#that i can easily see becoming a family favourite during holidays

[mikimeiko]

Next Goal Wins (Taika Waititi, 2023)

#next goal wins #taika waititi #very nice #no it's not as good as hunt for the wilderpeople or boy #and it feels a little uninspired in the first part #but then it picks up and it's a good spors movie #that i can easily see becoming a family favourite during holidays #films 2024 #i made this #i just want a tag for the things i personally put out into the world

[majesticwren]

being in love with MJF headcanons:

✨friends to lovers✨ dynamic - may you be aware of it or completely oblivious just as Max is, this thing would be going on from and for forever. slow burning, pining and bittersweet. you'd possibly be childhood friends. the kind of friends that met by chance, maybe during a class assignment or at a b-day party, and just stuck together. but you might as well have met recently, the bond between the two of you would be the same.

you'd be the kind of friends that finish each other sentences as you speak.

you'd order each other food just because you know exactly each other taste.

one of you would message or call at the same time as the other is checking their phone only because you tend to think about the other, or miss them, at the same time.

no one ever wants to play the mr & mrs game with you because you two are annoyingly unbeatable. and you always team up. like always. even when you are with someone else.

you rock at giving each other the best presents. birthdays, christmas/hanukkah, random events, they are perfect every time. there's no competition. if you had been involved with someone else at the time, this particular event had caused problems in the relationship. no partner likes to be outshined by the person who is supposed to be "just a friend".

on this note, in his private life, Max is absolutely terrible at remembering dates, events or even appointments. unless it involves you. not that he had been involved much, but when he had been, something like this would never be easily forgotten or ignored by his partners.

you spend so much time together. like an impossible amount of time. you are so used to it that you move around each other's houses like it's your own. not only that, in each other house you've got a spare toothbrush, phone charger, some clothes and your favourite pillow - just in case. you've got each other spare key and the freedom to drop unattended.

you are so used to spending time together being apart for more than a few days is painful.

and with Maxwell's job happens often.

but you get invited to follow him as often as possible.

you are his number one supporter, of course, always. and you must enjoy wrestling just as much as Max does. you have to be careful saying you've got other favourite wrestlers though, especially if they are Max's colleagues in AEW because he can be jealous.

he is jealous regardless.

never once he liked one of your partners and every time it wouldn't work out he would arrogantly say "I told you so", offering one of his cocky smiles, never realising no relationship ever worked for either of you because you were basically involved with each other.

see the thing is, Max is completely emotionally unavailable. He is totally terrified of getting attached to people, which makes him a prime example of the avoidant type - which makes him a walking red flag.

he stuck with you though.

your friends don't like him. they know your relationship with the guy isn't healthy but trying to get you away from Max is impossible.

his friends, instead, adore you just cause they can tell what you mean to him. but getting him to realise as well is impossible - he's just dumb and blind.

and it goes without saying you are basically part of each other's families.

it's tradition for you to spend the holidays with Max's family and more often than not, whenever there's a family gathering, you are also invited.

he has definitely brought you as his plus one at more than one wedding or bar mitzvah.

ever since you danced to fallingforyou, by the 1975, that has become your song. you both listen to it thinking about each other. but you're just friends.

everyone knows you are completely and desperately in love with each other, but you got so good at pretending you were only friends you had no ears for any of it. both of you.

you'd be the kind of friends that are actually a couple in everything but the sexual aspect of things.

he is that kind of guy. he likes to fuck around without getting involved. that's the way he likes it. every relationship he had has been brief and without strings.

that's the way he feels safe and in control.

you know well about all of his conquests and are extremely good at hiding how much it hurts that his choice, in the end, is never you. you are only friends after all.

he doesn't consider the possibility of being attracted to you. not because he is totally unaware of the fact that deep down he is, but because getting there with you would possibly mean ruining what you have.

as already noted, he is big, dumb and blind.

he'd never admit what he feels for you because the fear of being rejected petrifies him.

and you wouldn't do anything to change it either because of a similar fear. to lose him would mean to lose your sun.

you are the kind of friends that hold hands and cuddles, even in public. Max often has his arm around your shoulders and you, naturally, have your hand in the back pocket of his pants. in crowded places, where sits run low, you sit on his lap with ease and zero embarrassments.

you are even used to kissing each other on the lips. not so regularly to be something you are used to, but it is not uncommon either.

you had never fully made out though, that falls into sexual stuff.

you don't do it often. it's generally more of a goodbye thing you do when you know you won't see each other for a long time - just in case.

it all started as a bet someone had thrown and both of you were so stubborn to prove to be just friends you did, in fact, kiss.

And then you kept doing it. softly though, like keeping a secret.

deep down you both know it means something. it leaves behind an undertone of guilt and desire that you both can't shake.

but you are just friends.

a/n1: these headcanons are g/n and can suit anyone. it is absolutely compatible with mjfxadam cole if you like. because it's so totally canon you can't tell me otherwise but i've decided to focus on mjfxyou in general.

a/n2: i've dreamed about mjf and this dynamic last night and couldn't take it out my fucking mind all day. had to write it down. I can't afford to fall into another fanfic - even when this could totally be one and I am cheeky and I've left out all the best parts - but I also do not have time to throw myself into another project and I'm notorious for struggling finishing fics :')

a/n3: don't ask me what this brainrot is. I do not know. don't hold me accountable. sorry about the typos. as I said my brain is rotting away. bye ✨

a/n4: i've fallen into another fic - this is now happening, find it here

#mjf #maxwell jacob friedman #mjf x reader #mjf x you #maxwell jacob friedman x reader #mjf imagine #mjf aew #adamjf

[kyndaris]

Hot Airing over Antiquity

Despite our chances of soaring over the Cappadocia region in hot-air balloons being dashed by the poor weather, we still had one last opportunity in Pamukkale. It might not have caverns and deep gullies, but it was still impressive to hover over the ‘Cotton Castle’ in all its limestone glory. And also take in the ancient city of Hierapolis via air.

Nothing screams adventure more than looking upon an ancient amphitheatre from above. Or, you know, running the risk of dropping your phone and losing all evidence of your overseas trip. But, I hear you, dear reader, say, it’s all about the experience, right?

Wrong! Here in the internet age, if there are no pictures, it’s doubtful it even happened. And even WITH photographic proof, editing software makes it easy to question EVERYTHING. Coupled with the fact that I hate taking pictures of myself? Why, it could be easily claimed that I stole all my photos from Google.

I didn’t, of course (what kind of travel blogger would do that), but it’s something easy that detractors can claim. Not that I have any detractors. My little corner on the internet is rarely frequented and when it is, it’s mostly by people I already know in real life. Which is exactly how I like it!

Regardless, the trip up in the air was quite smooth. We were up in the air and I didn’t even feel a thing. Best of all, we didn’t crash land. Nor did we become a ball of flame that hurtled to the ground in a fiery explosion. I might not have liked being bombarded by fossil fuel natural gas every time the pilot fired up...well, the fire...but I am thankful for getting an opportunity to take to the skies and look down at all the unworthy ants crawling down beneath me.

Delusions of grandeur, thy name is Kyndaris!

Once we landed, we packed hurriedly into the minivan and headed straight back to our hotel. And it was here that I bid a silent farewell to my Malaysian ballooning companions. I might not have gotten any of their names but I did overhear most of their conversations as they called family and friends while riding up in the balloon. And while I was very tempted to make my known in at least half of their calls, I resisted the urge.

So kind of me! So magnanimous!

All right. I think that’s enough self-aggrandising from me. Back to detailing my actual exploits while on holiday.

After returning to hotel, I went back to the room that I shared with Popo and readied to luggage to bring down to the coach. Then it as off to actually explore Hierapolis by foot. Or, more technically, as a chauffeur for Popo and her friend as I drove around on a modified moped.

The name, Hierapolis, is Greek in nature and according to the information board that I took at the site, means ‘Sacred City.’ It was presumably founded by one of the successors of Alexander the Great. In 188BC, it was passed into the hands of the Kings of Pergamon before becoming one of the wealthiest cities during Roman times. At the sight, there was plenty to see including a ruined temple of Apollo and a statue dedicated to Pluto, or Hades. I only recognised him because of the three-headed guardian to the Underworld, Cerberus, that stood at his side.

The city also featured many iconic Roman buildings including baths, gymnasium and theatre. I certainly knew that my 17-18 year old self would have been leaping for joy if I’d visited then, giving my interest in Ancient History and, in particular, the Flavian period of the Emperors.

Young children might be able to tell me in excruciating detail about their favourite dinosaurs. I will respond with my own rant upon my supposed subject of expertise - the Julio-Claudian emperors and the Flavian dynasty, which followed after Nero and the Year of Four Emperors.

History aside, it ought to be known that despite being the Sacred City of antiquity, Hierapolis was abandoned following an earthquake in about 616 AD that left only a few crumbling buildings in its aftermath. Despite this, there are signs of Seljuk presence in the ruins. Which would indicate that people had still frequented the site up until 400 years after the devastating quake.

But because of that, the city was almost pastoral in appearance with swaths of green covering the ruins. What made Hierapolis so special for us, though, was the ‘Cotton Castle’ that the city was built atop on. Layered all in white, the city was favoured with warm thermal waters that bubbled to the surface and which were rich in minerals. Over the years, it had covered the cliff tops in a layer of white limestone. And even in this modern age, those thermal waters continue to gurgle, which Popo got to enjoy by dipping her toes in.

There was also a swimming pool with sunken columns at the city that visitors could pay to enter.

Talk about taking advantage of what mother nature has given you! I however, simply enjoyed admiring the scenes of Europeans floating in the warm waters before inspecting the adjacent museum where displays of old pottery and statues could be seen. There were even carved reliefs depicting the coronation of Septimius Severus, a Roman Emperor, by the Goddess Nike and one that saw Dionysus, the Greek God of Wine and Debaurchery, partying hard with nymphs, centaurs, satyrs, the cherubic Eros and Pan.

After drinking in our fill of the city, we had a quick lunch in what felt like a communal cafeteria that stunk of oil before heading back on the road. This time we were headed westward to the Aegean Sea! Kusadasi, here we come!

#turkiye #hierapolis #hot air balloon #Roman emperors #Pamukkale #Cotton Castle #travel blog

[midnightsconspiracy]

Her Knight In Shining Armour

Her Knight In Shining Armour - @midnightsconspiracy

Summary: You’ve told your daughter stories of the valiant Sir Voight, but what happens when she finally meets her hero

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1518

Requested: Yes!

'Can I get a Voight and singlemom!reader? Maybe she just started working in Intelligence and she has a little girl and her daughter adores Hank? Coworkers to Lovers?'

A/N: This turned out so much better than I imagined. And thank you to the person who requested this who waited till my requests opened again for me to write this.

Masterlist

You knew the step up from being a beat cop to detective would be difficult, and not just for yourself personally with the extra workload and hours, but also for your little girl. Being away from each other was always difficult enough, and now with the longer, more unpredictable hours of intelligence, it would make it even worse. Since it was just the two of you, spending time together was so important, wanting to make sure she felt loved and cherished, despite her father leaving her to feel otherwise. But it was part of the job and this was an amazing promotional opportunity you had been given, something that you'd been working towards even before you had birthed your daughter. And you knew she would understand, being the most kind and considerate child you'd ever met, but that still didn't seem to make the ache in your heart any better. At least with the extra income you'd be earning you would finally be able to afford the dream holiday that you two had always fantasised about going on, and the smile that would grace her face would make it all worth it.

Once your first day had passed though you no longer felt the nerves you'd had previously, going home to tell Hannah all the child-friendly details you could remember. Her favourite part had been the story of all the people in the district, making up little characters out of everyone based on their positions and personalities. And just like you, her favourite character in the whole adventure seemed to be the valiant knight, Sir Hank Voight. A brave and noble man who would do anything to help protect and serve his kingdom and the people in it.

He had been the most helpful person during your transition upstairs as well, explaining anything you didn't quite understand at your own pace, without sounding rude or condescending. There were many a day where you would stay behind after everyone else had gone, getting him to help you study for the upcoming detective's exam that you were so desperate to pass the first time. And he happily did so, not caring that it ate into his evening, much rather seeing one of his member pass than spend his nights alone. He was just overall the most perfect boss that you could ask for, allowing you to fully immerse yourself into the team and avoid that awkward newbie phase that you so dreaded. And with so much time that you spend together, you hoped he would consider you more than just someone who worked under him, but rather a friend, just as much as you considered him one.

Today's workday had seemed like any other, a murder case where the victim had been no one of notoriety, but despite this, you had still solved it promptly and with the utmost reverence. And now that you were home, in your little happy bubble of playing with Hannah and telling her glamorised stories of the day you'd had, you finally felt relaxed and content with the life that you now led. Entranced in the little bubble of satisfaction you'd created, you hadn't heard the doorbell ring, only being alerted to someone else's presence after Hannah had already let them in. Looking up from your place on the floor, you spotted Hank in the hallway, conversing with an enamoured looking Hannah. Going out to join them, you learned on the pillar that connected the rooms, smiling at your daughter's reaction at meeting her hero in real life, watching as she retold the stories she'd heard a million times before. Although you were slightly angry at her for letting someone into the house without your permission, you would get over it, especially as the person was someone you both liked.

"Hannah, give the man a break will you," you piped up finally, trying to get Hannah to stop babbling and let the man get a word in edgeways. She had obviously been so overwhelmed by his arrival that she hadn't let him explain his reason for the unexpected visit.

"Sorry Mommy," she replied back, coming over to hug your legs and give her infamous puppy dog eyes, just to make sure you were angry at her. Stroking over her hair to assure her you weren't, you turned to your guest, a confused look on your face, wondering just why he'd shown up so late after hours.

"I didn't mean to interrupt your evening, I came bearing news. But, that can wait, I want to know more about Sir Voight." Looking up at you with a cheeky glint in his eye, Hannah came bounding back over to him, continuing on about the stories of the chivalrous knight.

And that's what she had done for the rest of the evening, bringing him into your living room to show him the toys she'd all named after your colleagues. It was a little embarrassing at first, sitting at a distance from the two of them, her exposing all the fables you told her over the weeks. Especially when she started talking about his one, flourishing the story a little in his favour in hopes it would make him like her more. But in reality, it just made you seem like a schoolgirl, telling everyone just how brave and handsome her crush was. Although you hadn't told Hannah those things yourself, it didn't mean you hadn't thought of it in your own head, just admiring him from afar. He was a good man and one that you truly saw yourself with especially after all the time you'd spent together. And the way he was with Hannah only exemplified this, your fantasy of a perfect little family becoming more vivid. When you really thought about it, it seemed a little creepy, imagining him as the man of your house. But in reality, it was only because of the scar Hannah's father had left behind, never allowing you the chance to have a proper family unit.

Time had flown by as you remained in your own head, looking over at the clock to see that Hannah's bedtime had been over an hour ago. Luckily for you, she was tired herself, allowing you easily excuse yourself to bring her up to bed. All the playing and excitement had worn her out completely, and as you went back downstairs to where Hank waited, you remembered why he was here in the first place, some big news.

"Sorry about her, she gets a little over-excited sometimes," you explained nervously, scared he would think of you differently now that he knew of your stories.

"No, no it's ok, it's nice seeing her happy. Plus she tells me your a very good storyteller," he replied, smiling at your nervous disposition, just happy that he was getting to spend extra time with you and finally meet the girl you had talked about so much.

"Yeah, sorry about that, she just wants to know about work sometimes and I don't know how to tell her in a child-friendly manner." Trying to reason with him, you attempted to make yourself look as normal as possible, still thinking he'd assume you were crazy for it.

"I think it cute, plus Sir Voight is pretty impressive," he stated, showing you just how much he didn't mind your storytelling antics.

"I guess he is." And as much as you wanted to hide your little crush on the man, your cheeks gave you away, blushing at his confession.

"Oh and the news, I just got the email this evening, you passed the exam. Congrats Detective Y/LN."

A smile burst across your face as he revealed the good news, you hadn't even expected to pass thinking you'd failed after taking it let alone receive the good news tonight. In your excitement, you threw your arms around him, hugging him tightly. Because of your sudden movements, he didn't react quick enough, causing you to pull away equally as quickly surprised at your own affections. Once again you'd embarrassed yourself.

"Sorry I didn't m-mean," you said, retracting your arms, making yourself as small as possible. But instead of reacting how you expected him to have, he bought you back into his arms, whispering another congratulation into your ear. At that you moved your arms to circle his neck again, getting lost in the warmth of his affection. Pulling away slightly, he stared into your gaze, a smile playing on his lips.

"You deserve this Y/N, you really do," he said, placing his hand onto your cheek and stroking comfortingly. Leaning forward he finally went to kiss you, pouring out every emotion you'd both had bottled up since you'd met. And neither of you would have stopped if it weren't for the sudden interruption, Hannah appearing at the top of the stairs, captivated that her mother and hero were kissing.

"Are you and Sir Hank finally together now?" She asked, causing both of you to laugh at her sudden question. Looking at each other to confirm the answer, you both came to an agreement, yes, yes you were.

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

Taglist: @mileika @redpoodlern @chazubagi @scarletsoldierrr@cindydoll2 @anotherfan07 @one-sweet-gubler @yosoynicolexo @prettypsychoinpink @mollyc70 @maisie20

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#chicago pd #chicago pd imagines #chicago pd x reader #one chicago #hank voight x reader #hank voight #hank voight imagines

[writingsbychlo]

rapp-ed around your heart (01)

word count; 19,578

summary; stan and Irene have decided that mitch needs. a little downtime, and he’s pretty moody about it, until you put him in his place.

notes; this is the beginning of what is going to be a six part series, all based on the road. I really hope you guys like it, it’s about healing, and finding purpose.

warnings; none, really. mitch is moody, but what’s new?

The South East

“Whatever it is that you think I did, I am taking zero responsibility for it until you have proof.” Mitch announced his innocence loudly from the second he stepped into the office, and Hurley simply glared at him from where he was sitting on the other side of the desk, and he flopped himself down until the comfortable chair to wait for his latest bollocking over disobeying orders, being reckless, having an attitude, or whatever it was that he was about to be reamed for.

“That fact that you immediately have to defend yourself is a reason enough for me to be doubtful in your conduct, Agent Rapp.” He recognised that voice, rolling his eyes a little bit letting his lips flick up at the sides in amusement as the stoic face of his superior came into view via video chat, and Hurley leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms.

“Irene.” He nodded, eyes flicking between the pair, and brows shooting up as he waited. “So, why exactly am I here?”

“You’ve been working with us for almost three years now, and you’ve been working yourself hard since the incident in Ibiza, which would make it four years since you last gave yourself a break.” His heart clenched a little at the painful memories that flashed behind his eyes, but it was nowhere near as bad as it had once been, and he crossed his own arms, raising his shoulders and dropping them back down in a shrug.

“Your point?”

“The point is, Mitch, that we look after our agents. You are taking a break. A long one.” He let out a groan at the woman’s words, beginning to spew denial and complaints from the second he had processed the words, wiping a hand over his face and shaking his head in denial, but the slamming of an open palm down onto the table was enough to silence him as he looked up at Stan.

“Listen, this isn’t entirely altruistic. We aren’t sending you on a holiday to let you have fun in the sun in the Bahamas. You are going to wear yourself out, and one day you will fuck up in the field and that will cost lives of other agents, and a hell of a lot of civilians.” He huffed, glaring at his superiors in silence, and Stan smirked a little at finally getting him to shut up. “You don’t have anything to live for, Rapp.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Hurley held his hands up, and Irene rubbed her forehead with a sigh, mumbling under her breath about the subtlety of men. “What we mean, Mitch, is that you’ve spent so long throwing everything into work and revenge, that you don’t have anything anymore. Work is important to you, I get it, but it can’t be everything. You have to have something that motivates you, something that inspires you, makes you wake up in the morning, or else you aren’t fighting for anything.”

“What happened to ‘never let it get personal’, huh?” His words were pointed in sharp and bitter tone at Stan, a vicious stab at him for the tactic he’d once used to whip him into shape emotionally, and the older man didn’t even flinch.

“That was when you were unstable, but you’re one of our best agents now, and you train the recruits. When your anger was out of control, anything you latched onto becomes your primary focus, but now you have nothing to guide your direction or give you a purpose.” She sighed, and he slumped back into the chair a little bit.

“What, and you think two weeks in Europe is going to make me a new person?” He snorted at the thought, picturing himself in a striped shirt and a beret, with a curled moustache when he came back and an affection for pastries.

“Actually, you’re staying in the country. Start you up easy, and all.”

He wasn’t sure what to say anymore, and he didn’t see the point. Life felt drained of colour and entirely pointless, the only things that gave him joy were knowing that he was keeping others like him safe, people who hadn’t yet undergone the life-changing trauma he had getting a chance to skip over it and enjoy a life he didn’t get to have.

“My niece, she’s going on a little road trip. I talked to her, and she’s agreed to take you along with her.” Mitch was entirely unaware that Stan even had any family, but he dropped that in favour of searching his brain for an excuse not to go in a cramped car with a complete stranger, but he felt like he was short-circuiting, mind coming up a total blank as he was filled with white noise. The smirk Stan’s face was enough to piss him off even more, but he bit his tongue and waited to be dismissed, he could always come up with an excuse between now and then. “You’d better go and pack, she’ll be here in an hour.”

“Wait, what? And you didn’t think to tell me until now?” He seethed, standing in his seat, before watching between the two higher-ups who were staring him down for his outburst. “Can I be dismissed, or what?”

“Yeah, you can go, but you better be ready by the time she gets here.” He was already out the door before Stan had even finished speaking, the words being shouted after him as he left the door wide open, spite to make him stand up and close it himself, and he heard it slam shut only a second later. He enjoyed the easy recruits all but jumped out of his way in fear as he stormed across the courtyard, stomping up the outside stairs to the top floor of the dormitories, the floor that had been reserved for him and him only, the single perk of staying on to advise being getting to have his own space rent-free, even if it was a little small and cramped, with every little privacy from the group of people constantly moving through in the lower floors.

There was a bag under his bed, the one he usually used when being sent away on an assignment, and he dragged it out with his foot, dumping it on the bed. Opening up various drawers and cabinets, he shoved a collection of jeans and shorts, jumpers and t-shirts into a bag, enough clothes for about two weeks, and enough underwear and socks to match.

Laying out a fresh set of clothes for himself, he stripped off the ones he was currently wearing, dumping them into the laundry basket that he could throw into the washer before leaving, and have one of the interns clean up and leave outside his door for when he returned.

The water took a good minute or two to warm up, and so he busied himself with swiping his toiletries and cosmetics into the bag too, before stepping into the shower and letting out a low groan as the scalding water washed over his skin as he stepped under it. Dirt and grime washed away into the drain as he thought about the training he’d been taking part in during the day, cuts and grazes along his back stinging at the temperature, but washing away every ounce of blood and dirt, cleaning the wounds for him as he washed himself off.

His hair was washed too, until the water was running clean as his muscles had eased, the tension slipping away with every deep breath he took. Not only did he let the physical dirt drain away, but he allowed the water to take away the impurities he felt in his chest too, the way his angry moods and stubborn hatred for the idea of leaving were carried away into the drain.

The fear, however, that stuck around. The overwhelming anxiety that came just at the thought of not being busy. Mitch liked to work himself into the ground, he wanted to be sure that he woke up in the morning with things to get straight into, and he wanted to be so tired at the end of the night that he didn’t have time to lay awake in the dark.

It was no longer the flashes of Katrina on the beach that came up behind his eyes, that was a pain he had acknowledged and processed, breaking it down until he was able to move on, but he was haunted by a life he never got to live. When he was younger, he was such high aspirations, and he mounted for a future he would never get. He missed the thrill of playing lacrosse, or the excitement he got at the idea of experiencing something new, or the adrenaline rush from forcing himself to do something that gave him a little scare.

Everything felt numb now, like the world was in black and white, surrounding him with the buzzing of white noise as everything fell away into the background. It felt blurry, and out of focus, and he felt disassociated from his life, and so when the chance came around for him to fall right into that void and get lost in his insecurities, he wasn’t exactly jumping at the opportunity.

When the water finally began to run cold, he switched it off, stepping out and towelling himself dry, before picking up his watch and checking the time. Fastening the device onto his wrist, he had just enough time to run through his laundry and grab a snack before leaving, and his stomach rumbled at the thought of the smoked ham and aged cheese sitting in the main fridge, a roll that he could place it within, and his mouth salivated a little in excitement. Tugging black jeans up his legs and a forest green henley over his head, he was grateful for how tidy his space already was, before grabbing at his favourite sneakers and tugging them onto his feet. It was a little cold for his liking, and so he swiped the first jacket he could from his closet, a slightly too big leather jacket with only one rip in it, that could easily be hidden if he didn’t stick his thumb through it, and it was enough for him.

He grabbed at the laundry bag, swinging it over his shoulder before peeking his head out of the door, and flagging down the first recruit he could find. Dropping the bag into his arms, he smirked as the man looked between it and himself, scurrying away seconds later with the strict instructions to wash it, dry it, fold it and leave it outside his door for when he came back.

He patted himself down, checking for keys wallet and his phone, doing a final sweep to check he had everything, before he was setting off, locking the apartment as he went. His first call was the kitchen, stopping in to make the sandwich he had promised himself, before taking a bite out of it and hiking his bag up onto his shoulder, and making his way back through the cabin.

Rounding the large property, he could see a vehicle already pulled up, a storage box on top that was open, and his supervisor was leaning against the back of the large car, a cigarette in his mouth as he listened to a woman just out of his view chat excitedly, but he could hear his voice as he made his way over. It was clearly one of the CIA vehicles, one he was so used to riding along in, and he momentarily wondered about how you’d gained permission for it, but the almost unnoticeable patched-up holes along the side and scratches told him that it was a decommissioned one that had seen better days before being shot at during field days.

The closer he got, the more he could see. Slightly shorter than he was, the girl was wearing a flowy dress and a cardigan, ankle boots covering her feet and sunglasses sitting up in her hair as she showed off a large map to her uncle, one that he didn’t care for, but he seemed to grab both of their attentions as he shuffled over to them.

“Rapp, just on time.” Stan broke, his voice already going colder just from interacting with him instead of the girl he called family, and Mitch simply rolled his eyes.

“Oh, lighten up, Uncle Stan.” The girl was far too positive for his liking, especially while he was still angered over the entire situation, but he tried to be polite, shaking her hand when she offered it out to him, and gave him her name. She moved a little, trying to show him the large map as she attempted to redirect it so that he could see, and he dropped his bag to the floor, finishing his sandwich and sticking his hands into his pockets. “I got some places marked out, but is there anywhere in particular that you want to see, Mitch?”

“I couldn't care less where we go.” Your smile faltered a little, and he almost felt guilty for it, but you were shrugging him off only a second later, and he had to admit to himself that he was more than eager just to get on with this trip so that he could get it over with, the soon you both got on the road would be the sooner he could call this ridiculous holiday off, and the sooner he could come home and get back to his regularly scheduled timetable of running himself into the ground to avoid his thoughts.

Stan took the initiative to pick up his bag and place it in the open compartment above the car, before licking it shut tightly and double-checking it was all sealed up, before the older man was leaning down to press a fatherly kiss to the top of your head as you folded the map away. “You ready to go, Mitch?”

Your tone was a little cooler as you spoke to him, but still held no venom, and he simply nodded, making his way over to the passenger seat, all of the windows along the car blacked out, and he at least appreciated that privacy. Letting himself in, he stared right ahead, ignoring the scenery as he slumped into the plush leather and strapped himself in, crossing his arms and glaring at Stan as the man put out his cigarette and beaming sardonically at him from outside the windshield.

You were only seconds behind, hopping up into the vehicle with more pep than he thought possible, and getting yourself settled, before starting up the car, and dragging him away from the life he knew, on a ridiculous attempt to fix what he already knew to be broken, in his opinion, beyond repair.

It was an uncomfortable silence for at least an hour, only the humming you made along to the playlist that was ringing out softly within the car, your tapping at the steering wheel with your fingers to particularly catchy beats, and the attempts at small talk you’d given up on somewhere between fifteen and twenty minutes into your journey. He was upset, and frustrated, and absolutely did not ‘want to play the number plate game’ with you.

Eventually, his curiosity took over, and he turned to face you, sighing a little for emphasis in what seemed more like a huff, and you glanced over at him from your place behind the wheel.

“So where exactly are we going first?”

“Oh! We are off to Fort Monroe!” You were still too peppy for his liking, and he hummed discontentedly under his breath, before nodding along and twisting to stare back out of the window, this time, looking dead ahead instead of to the side. He almost felt like a petulant teenager, slumped in his seat with a frown, arms crossed and being unnecessarily huffy, the same exact attitude he’d had all those years ago when his parents had sent him away to boarding school. “I was thinking we could go to the beach, maybe?”

He grunted at the thought, and you chuckled under your breath a little, glancing back in your mirrors and slowing for only a second to allow another driver to overtake you, before your attention was back on him.

“Not up for the beach? That’s cool. There’s a restaurant I kinda’ wanted to try, but we can do anything, really. I don’t have much of a plan for it. Just some ideas. I marked out some places around here that seemed cool.”

“A road trip of Virginia, how thrilling.” He rolled his eyes a little, his anger only bubbling up further at the cheery laugh you let out in response, looking over at him.

“I mean, I thought we’d start out easy for today. We’re already halfway through the day, it wasn’t worth getting anything big.” You shrugged, and he turned to look at you for only a second, cringing at the next song that came up, and he did not hesitate in lifting his finger to press skip on your phone as it sat in its stand on the dashboard. “We move down towards Florida over the next week or so, taking it in a slow build, getting to the road so much can be hard on your stomach, but the drives are divided up pretty nicely.”

“Florida?” You grinned, nodding at him, taking your eyes over the road for only a second. “How long is this road trip?”

You glanced over him curiously, your confusion at his statement melting away only a second later, before you were grinning in a way that made his stomach flip with nerves, unsure as to whether he actually wanted to know that answer. Instead of answering him, you reached over to the glove box with one hand, opening it up as the drawer fell open into his lap, and you fished through to find the old-fashioned and large paper map, slamming the storage compartment closed again and dropping the paper onto his legs. “Uncle Stan didn’t tell you the whole truth, did he?”

He grabbed at it, unfolding the large paper. He expected a zoomed-in version of the coast you were along, maybe a little more, but it was a map of the entire country, a red marker drawn along, lines connecting at least thirty dots along the way, and his jaw dropped, trying to add up in his head how long this trip would be, simply with driving and minimal stay time, and he realised he was looking at months of travel here.

“What the fuck?” You jumped a little at his outburst, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from the paper before him. “This is one of those road trip things, right around the fuckin’ country! It’s going to cost a fortune in motels alone!”

You shook your head at him as he folded it down enough that it could sit flat, and you jabbed your thumb over your shoulder, causing him to turn and follow the motion with his sight. “We aren’t staying in that many motels.”

He almost felt stupid for how he’d missed it before, but the backseat was flattened down with a mattress laying over from the trunk to reaching almost all the way up to the seats, blankets and covers mixed with pillows, general amenities sitting around the edges, the largest portable phone charger Mitch had ever seen sitting on the floor, and he felt like the tiniest bit of hope he’d had toward this trip just flew out of the window, and at this point, he wasn’t even on control of the complaints that began to pour from his lips. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

“What?”

“I found out this fucking morning that I have to traipse around the goddamn country with a fucking stranger, and now you’re telling me I have to sleep in the back of a car, doing shit I don’t want to do and sending my money in places I don’t want to go to, all for what? Nothing, that’s what.” He ran a hand over his face, a highly agitated noise leaving him. “Fuck this.”

You let out your own growl, the first sound of anything other than pure glee that you had released, the car jerking roughly as you spun off onto the side of the road, throwing the vehicle into park and turning to him. His eyes widened a little with the fire burning in your glare as you turned to look at him, sunny expression turned sour.

You weren’t willing to let him ruin your trip, this venture meant the world to you, you had been planning and saving up for more years than you could count.

“Listen, Rapp.” You hissed the name out at him, with more venom than even your uncle ever had, and he felt a little intimidated at the sudden rage that had spiked up within you. “This is my road trip. I planned it, I initiated it, I bought the car and saved for fuel, and did all the research. You think it was my dream to have a tag-along stranger jump on board? No. Especially not one with the general etiquette skills of a fucking pebble and the manners of an ex-con with a diagnosis in psychopathy and anti-social disorder.”

He opened his mouth to retort, feeling almost a little intimidated, shrinking back into his seat as you took a deep and steadying breath, closing your eyes for a second as you tried to reign yourself in, before you were looking at him again, before he could even think of anything to say in reply.

“Look, my uncle told me he wanted someone to come with me, someone who needed a little peace and quiet, and something to brighten up an otherwise dismal life. He told me about you, and I happened to think that this road trip would be just as good for you as it will be for me, so I said yes to you coming along. I’m not scared of my uncle, Mitch, and I’m not scared of Irene either. They aren’t my goddamn superiors, and I’m not letting you ruin this for me, so if you keep up this killjoy attitude then I will put you on a bus home, I don’t care where we are in the country. Got it?”

He gaped a little, before swallowing thickly, nodding his head, and letting himself acknowledge the guilt that was creeping up within him. Logically, he knew it wasn’t your fault. You weren’t the one that insisted he go on holiday, you weren’t the one that set him up with months of duty, and you certainly weren’t the one that had caused him a lifetime and a half’s worth of pain all crammed into the last decade, and yet he had been taking it out on you. Clearing his mind, he cleared his throat, mumbling an apology which you were quick to accept, before setting the car back off into motion.

It was awkward and tense, and he knew he’d already fucked it all up, and the two of you had barely been on the road for two hours, but he forced himself to relax a little, listening intently to the song playing, and relaxing in the seat. Uncrossing his arms and letting them sit in his lap instead, his head pressed into the rest behind his head, and he watched the scenery sliding by.

“So, that terrifying glare and scary, angry brow thing is genetics, then?”

You looked at him for only a second, easing up a little from your rigid pose, and laughed lightly under your breath, shrugging a single shoulder. “He taught me everything I know.”

He felt a little better at having broken the silence, and instead opted to open the map back up, studying the stops carefully, as you pulled off of the highway at the first sign guiding you towards ‘Fort Monroe’.

To say Virginia had been an uncomfortable situation of you both would be the understatement of the century. Small talk was fractured and strained, and you had no idea what you were supposed to talk to him about, and you had figured he was feeling the same way about you. Instead, you had busied yourself with mumbled about the different things you were seeing as you wandered around the Nation exhibit of Fort Monroe, and then moved on to dinner.

There was no longer the looming tension of the argument waiting to break out, and in his defence, you could see that he was at least trying to be better, but the pair of you hadn't exactly hit the ground running when you’d started out, and it was having a staggering impact on everything else that was going on for the pair of you.

He had opted to sleep upfront, leaning the passenger seat as far back as it could go, and accepting the blanket and pillow you’d offered him, shuffling every few minutes for almost an hour before he had finally settled in his seat, and you were grateful for the reprieve, before finally being able to fall asleep yourself.

Sleeping that first night seemed to hit that refresh button for you both, because when you woke up, he had already been awake, but he’d mumbled a ‘good morning’ to you when he heard you stirring, actually putting down his phone to turn around and look at you when you sat up. He had shown you the google maps version of the guide that he’d downloaded for you both, to add a little extra navigation, and inform you about roadblocks on your routes, and other such information that you may need.

After sorting yourself out, a change of clothes, and finding a rest stop to freshen up at, you were back on the road, a far more positive atmosphere shared between you both as you set off on the fairly short drive which covered the rest of the distance between where you’d stopped in Virginia, and making your way down towards North Carolina. Your first stop was Crabtree Falls, wanting to take a little break as you got yourselves used to the amount of driving you were going to be doing, and opting to check out the Museum of Natural Sciences to stretch your legs out and get a little bit of fresh air before you were on your way again.

When you arrived, it wasn’t overly busy, no crowds and queues and masses of tourists, and you were grateful for the reprieve, and the fountain of things to talk about with the man beside you so that conversation didn’t have to feel as forced.

The second you stepped inside, you were in awe, glancing up at the beautiful glass dome that the floors all circled around, balconies overlooking from the upper layers, and you took a minute to appreciate the ornate workings of the decorations that were up and about, before a nudge on your arm caught your attention.

Turning to look at the man beside you, his hands were tucked into his pocket, but his elbow was brushing yours, before he nodded his head stiffly towards one of the signs before you both. “They have live animals. Wanna’ check out the snakes?”

“Only if we can look at the big whale skeleton first.”

He nodded his head, the two of you gathering your tickets, and grabbing a map to guide yourself around, unfolding it before the both of you and pointing out the various things you wanted to check out. You did not take it in order, wandering from the top of the museum to the bottom, several times, neglecting to follow the numerical path that had been laid out, but choosing to simply follow the numbers of things you wanted to look at each time you got curious about someone else.

The uneasiness between you both had fallen away somewhere between the butterfly enclosure and the ‘Mountain Cove’ exhibit. The feeling that you were just waiting to blow up at him again the second he began acting out of line once again had faded away, and the borderline silence he had allowed you to suffer through when you’d first arrived had changed into small comments and subtle attempts at conversations that varied between the attractions you saw, all dependent on the sights you were seeing, and just how much it caught his attention, but you certainly weren't complaining.

By the time you’d left, you had a large plushie of a dinosaur under your arm, and a smile on your face, and Mitch seemed fractionally less tense than you had seen him since this trip had begun.

You had a simple dinner, the two of you simply choosing to get by on a drive-thru meal that you could eat as you began the trip down to Georgia, a truck stop in mind that you could use for stopping at, as well as sleeping and cleaning yourselves up some more. Your third day had a dismal start, one of your tires popping from a particularly rough pothole in the road, the impact giving you a headache from the jerk of the car before you’d pulled over to the side of the road, and hours had passed before someone had been out to change your spare tire.

You’d had to pull out the mattress and blankets from the back of the car, balancing it on the top of the vehicle to stop it getting dirty just to be able to get to your tools and more than half of the day had passed you by before you were getting back on the road again, your plans ruined and your mood on the floor, at least five hours worth of driving still ahead of you, and the day had been lost entirely by the time you’d been able to get everything back to the way it should be.

It was quiet as you drove along, nothing cheering you up as you stared out at the open roads, feeling dismal about what had already gone wrong in your trip, the entire outlook making it feel like this was going to be the prediction for the whole trip, and despite your best efforts to be positive, the bad day had put a downer on your mood.

“So, tell me what this playlist is about? Because there’s songs from the sixties, and songs that are on the radio now, all mixed in together, and I have yet to hear the same song twice.” You were a little startled at him initiating the conversation, and you could hear the strain in his voice at actively starting a conversation that had no particular end place in sight, but you realised he was doing it purely for the purpose of cheering you up, and so your lips flicked up at the sides as you glanced at him. “It just seems wildly random to me.”

“Well, a lot of different genres and moods went into it.” He raised a brow at you to continue, seeming genuinely interested in the explanation, and you let out a little laugh at the thought. “Well, firstly you have your typical road trip songs. You know the ones. ‘Take Me Home, Country Roads’, ‘Sweet Home Alabama’..”

“Yeah? How about ‘Mr. Blue Sky’, and ‘Road To Nowhere’?”

“Of course!” You were a little happier now, this interaction with him being far more positive than he had been so far, and you rolled your shoulders, forcing yourself to relax as he hummed under his breath. “Then, there were just some of my favourites thrown in, like ‘Brandy’ by ‘Looking Glass’, and the ones that are just typical summer songs. ‘Shotgun’ and ‘Budapest’ by George Ezra, obviously.”

“Obviously.” He mocked, and you couldn't contain your grin as you looked over at him, that being the first piece of sarcasm that hadn't been a somewhat cruel jab towards you.

“Then, there are some of those songs that you can’t help but tap your feet and sing along to. You have to have a couple.” He sighed, muttered a ‘suppose so’, but there was no heat behind it, and quiet took over you both once again, the next song seeming to click into place as a way to end the conversation, and you cleared your throat a little, refocusing on the road. Maybe four more songs, five if you’d stopped paying attention at any point, had passed by before he spoke again, and you waited patiently as he formed his words.

“So.. there’s a random place on the map in Georgia, where are we going tomorrow?”

“There’s this little town called ‘Covington’, and I want to check it out.” He made a vague sound of confirmation, before he was pulling out his phone from his pocket a little awkwardly, and tapping his fingers at the keyboard on the screen, seeming to focus on whatever he was seeing for a good few minutes.

“It looks kinda’ boring. It’s just a regular town, I don’t see the big deal.”

“What, so you’ve never seen The Vampire Diaries?” You gasped falsely, and he clicked off his phone, shuffling a little in his seat and shaking his head, a motion you caught out of the corner of your eye.

“The what?”

“Oh, you need to add it to your list. It’s one of my favourite shows, and this is where it was filmed!” You were filled with enthusiasm just at the idea of getting to talk about it, and he huffed out in amusement at the idea of it.

“Vampires in Georgia, I thought it was supposed to be Transylvania? Isn’t it a bit too sunny in Georgia.” You felt your mind a little blown at how much there was to unpack in such a simple sentence, giggling as you sifted through your thoughts.

“First of all, it’s filmed in Georgia, but based in Virginia. There’s a lot you don’t know about modern vampires.” You had a falsely judgmental tone at his words, feeling your chest warm at the chuckle you managed to elicit from him.

“You’d better fill me on all this vampire shit before we get there, then. You only have a few hours, better get to it.”

Seeing the town in all its glory was the kind of experience that never could have been described to you, and if it had been, it would be nowhere near enough to amount to the way you felt. You weren’t sure how many photos you’d taken, your phone spending the majority of its time on the camera as you took a range of selfies and photos of everything you were seeing. You saw everything you possibly could, leaving Mitch to sit with a coffee in the gardens for an hour as you took the ‘Vampire Stalkers’ tour, before you’d wandered around Covington Square and pointed out different landmarks to him.

He had even offered to take a picture of you in front of the clock tower, and while he wasn’t exactly the most enthusiastic photographer, you were grateful for the offer, because it had felt like an olive branch between you both. You had described scenes and painted pictures for hi as best you could, and despite knowing you were going a little overboard with your passion, he had glazed over a little, no longer responding but simply choosing to nod and hum occasionally, throwing in the kind of replies that were able to pass for any kind of agreement, and you had fizzled out soon after that.

Instead, you’d offered to show him the Mystic Grill, the restaurant catching his attention from the second food had been mentioned, and he perked up a little as he agreed. You took pictures in front of the signs, forcing him to get into a picture with you, and he scowled at the camera as you sat on either side of the neon sign, before getting yourselves inside and settled at a table.

It was exactly how you’d pictured it would be, rustic and peaceful, a country theme that seemed aged and well worn, but you adored it no matter what, and the menu only made you fall in love with the whole town a little more. By the time you’d made your way back to the car and found your next place to stop, changing into your pyjamas and taking turns to change for bed in privacy as the other watched the car, you had made a promise to yourself that you would be visiting again one day, no matter what.

You were settled in the back, and he was once again slouched in his passenger seat, but this time when you’d said goodnight, he made a tired sound of acknowledgement in response, instead of the usual icy silence, before rolling onto his other side and settling into his sleep.

Georgia marked a change in the dynamic between you both, nothing extreme, but the two of you had shifted from mildly irritated passengers to mere acquaintances, and the overwhelming feeling that you’d made a mistake by agreeing to take him on was washing away, to be replaced with indifferent emotions aimed to him, and hope for your journey. This trip meant the world yo you, and you couldn't deny that you’d struggled to fall asleep the last few nights as sadness and fear crept up on you that it was all going to be ruined if you couldn't enjoy a single moment of it without Mitch putting a negative fog down on every happy moment you had.

But, he was showing a change. He was trying, he was putting in the effort to at least not be the complete and utter twat you’d taken him for when you’d first met him, and the man who had done nothing but complain for two straight hours before you’d put him in his place was showing no signs of reemerging. As long as he kept his negativity and pessimism in check, then you could find it within yourself to simply enjoy your trip the way you would alone, as though his presence wasn’t going to be one to affect you, he was simply another presence on the road with you, like the SatNav or the music.

You spent a second day in Georgia, unable to have chosen between the Natural Science museum, the Aquarium, and the botanical gardens. It had been an earlier morning, and for the first time so far, you had woken up before Mitch had. He seemed equally as surprised, pleasantly enjoying the fact that for the first time in God knows how long that he’d slept in. No alarms, danger, or blaring horns for training. He didn’t have to be up to do sprints around the woods or an intensive workout that would leave his entire body screaming out in agony by the end of the day, only to have a full day forced upon him next time.

He voices such things to you in the streetside coffee and pastry shop that you’d stopped at for your brunch, after having a walk around the botanical gardens, something that had been more than soothing for the both of you.

The flowers, the sights, the ornate placements and decorations, with buzzing bees and butterflies, a beautiful eco-system that was preserved and protected within a society that often allowed nature to be turfed over for infrastructure, and it was one of the most beautiful sights that you had ever seen. You touched soft petals, and felt your face heat up when a butterfly had landed on your forehead, your eyes crossing as you tried to look at it and cheeks aching from your grin, and through every thought of his own, without being asked, Mitch had snapped a picture for you so that you could preserve the moment forever, and sent it to your phone only a second after it had flown away.

Filling up on warm pastries and taking a to-go cup of herbal iced tea with you as you chose to walk through the little town centre and window shop, before making your way to the aquarium, while he offered to take over on the driving from you, for the fair few hours drive down to one of the favourited sunny spots in Florida, before you had found the building, and all thoughts about anything other than seeing the pretty fish had slipped from the front of your mind. Only after the two of you had entered, paper band sealed around your wrists and told to follow the green arrows, did he divulge to you that he had never actually been to an aquarium before, a fact that made you positively outraged, in a way that made his lips flick up at the sides a little as he watched you dramatically mourn for his loss of fish observations.

You had taken your time, showing him everything and telling him just what you loved about the scenes, the way the lower tunnels lit up with blue as fish swam overhead, and the way the larger ones like stingrays and little sharks would come right up to the glass, getting you closer to the predators than you ever could be, and yet being entirely safe, as the rehabilitated animals continued with their life, enjoying the safety of their home. You allowed him to take pictures, and made him take one himself, standing with his hands shoved in his pockets as he stood in the middle of the tunnel that changed colours, the first one being his usual stoic and emotionless expression.

The second shot, though, was one that you sent to yourself just to be sure that it wouldn't be deleted from existence, because it was far too precious to lose. In the second, the tunnel was between blue and red, a deep purple shade with a pink edge was cast over the man, making shadows appear across his face, the look of awe standing out as he stared up, the largest shark they had swimming directly overhead in the picture as he stared up at it, and at that moment, there was nothing in his life, except the astonishment at the creature that had passed over him.

He thanked you when you handed him his phone back, nodding his thanks to you as he paused on the second, not bothering to spend too much time focusing it, but not deleting it either, closing his camera app and holding the phone tightly in his hand. He was more conversational for the rest of the trip, the photograph unlocking something within him, and he managed to ask you simple questions about why you liked museums so much, and if you liked zoos too, as well as reading the information plaques aloud each time you reached one. The night had rolled around sooner than you would have thought, and the two of you grabbed ice cream cones from a small cart nearby, eating them slowly as you walked towards the car.

“I always wanted to swim with dolphins, y’know.” He shrugged a little, taking a bite out of the mint ice cream on his cone, and you hummed as you licked at the simple chocolate one you had while considering your options.

“You’re only, like, twenty-five. You still have time to do cool things like swim with dolphins.”

He glanced over at you, pausing in his steps for a second, and for a moment, you thought he might open up, that he would reply to you, let you in a little bit so that you could try and find a way to help him heal, but he simply shrugged, and your hopes caved in on yourself, a little quiet falling between you both again as those walls that had been slowly crumbling down seemed to build back up to twice the height they had originally been, keeping you sealed out in the cold from ever getting know him. Once he had finished his ice cream, he was reaching around behind himself, rubbing at his lower back carefully, but his features never even changed, though it wasn’t the first time you’d picked up on it.

“What’s up with you? You’ve been messing with your back all day, trying to stretch all subtle-like.”

“Backache.” The word was grunted out, and you sighed a little at the cold tone he had resorted back to, feeling like for every step forward you took with him, you were taking three steps back.

“Well, for the past three nights you’ve been sleeping in a car seat. Why don’t you take it easy, lay down while I drive?” He shook his head as the two of you approached the vehicle, and you rounded to the driver’s side, leaning against the door and giving him a pointed look.

“I’m perfectly fine, I’ve dealt with worse pains before.”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to now.” It was a standoff between you both, and you reached out to place a hand on his arm, before deciding against his, swerving around him to tap on the tinted windows of the backseat. “Why don’t you lie down on the back, and I’ll drive. I’ll take it real slow, so you don’t get thrown about.”

“You’ll wake me up when we get there?”

“Yeah.” He hesitated at your assent for only a second, before he was dipping his head a little, and making his way around to the trunk of the car, allowing you to open it up with the car keys. Kicking off his shoes, he took them with him, his body flopping into the mound of cushions and pillows, and eyes already sliding shut the second he had, the door closing behind him as you got into the front. As promised, you drove slow, moving the pair of you down towards Florida, the night passing you by as you listened to your music so quietly that it wouldn't bother him, and in you slow pace, you were able to avoid disturbing him, the quiet tosses and turns he made causing you to glance back every so often.

Sometimes he was on the verge of being awake, blinking his eyes open a little in the darkness, to take in his surroundings, before adjusting his positions and laying back down. The darkness of the sky had been blossoming into pale pastel shades by the time you saw the entry signs for Orlando, and you could have cried with gratefulness as the journey came towards an end.

You were tired, having stopped once or twice to bolt into somewhere and grab a coffee, but you needed sleep, and as soon as the offer for such a thing had made itself known, you were more than happy to take it. The hotel felt like a godsend, the morning crawling on in as the sun rose up in early hours, the sun still a while off actually breaching the horizon, but the darkness of the sky was beginning to lighten at the horizon, and you were desperate to get some sleep.

You went to check in first, locking the car securely for the man, before registering a room with two beds for you both, opening the box atop the car to pull out your smaller bag, just enough clothes and provisions to get you through the morning until you were both awake again, before you were opening the back of the car once again. You weren’t sure how to wake him, perfectly aware of how jumpy he might be, and if he accidentally lashed out in shock, there would be a chance he wouldn't forgive himself for it, even if you told him it was okay.

Settling to place a hand on his ankle, you shook him gently, and while he awoke with a startled jump, he soon gathered where he was, letting out a little groan as he sat up, rubbing at his eyes tiredly, and shaking off his slumber.

“How long?”

“About seven hours.” His eyes widened a little as he looked at you, before shuffling forwards to swing his legs over the edge of the car, and he tied his shoes on a little as he took in the area around him. “I booked us in already, and got stuff, but I’m pretty tired, so I’m about ready to crash.”

He simply nodded, reaching out to take your bag from your shoulder and swinging it up onto his own, before grabbing the keys from your hand and locking up the car. The pair of you shuffled through the lobby, one groggy and one exhausted, before leaning against the walls of the elevator as you found your room. You simply dropped the bag on the floor, kicking off your shoes as he pulled the curtains closed, before sealing the door and crashing onto your separate beds.

It was a restless sleep, your mind not even dreaming as you refreshed yourself from the long day followed by a long drive, the time taking its toll on you, and you slept in later than breakfast and almost missed lunch, but you felt like a brand new person when you woke. You weren’t sore or achy, and the crabby mood you’d felt creeping up on yourself before the rest was washed away, and the excitement of knowing that you had the rest of today, plus at least two more days without any long drives was something you were more than excited for, and you stretched yourself out across the mattress, stretching out your limbs properly for what felt like the first time in years, before flopping back onto the bed with a cheerful smile.

The hours had ticked by, the sun rising high up in the sky and you were grateful for the thick curtains that were keeping out the rays out once the heat had begun to rise. It was hot, practically scorching, and you knew it would have woken you up - if not burned you - through the window had they been left open.

“Good afternoon.”

You jumped with a little squeal, completely forgetting where were and who with for one small and blissful moment, and you sat yourself up on the bed, embarrassment flushing you when snapped to sit up straight, and he snorted out a laugh that he muffled behind his hands when he watched you do so. His hair was still dripping wet, but he had changed his clothes, and the rest of your bags had been brought in from the car too. “Well, you’re in a good mood.”

“I slept well and went to the gym, of my own accord, with no interruptions. The last time that happened, I was a new college graduate.” His brightened expression faltered a little as he thought about the memories flashing behind his eyes, before he was stepping towards a covered dish on the counter. “I woke up a while ago, and I made it down in time for breakfast. I brought you some fruit and a croissant.”

“You’re like a whole new person today.”

He swallowed thickly, but quickly handed it over to you as you brushed messy bedhead hair away from your face and to take the dish from him, sitting cross-legged on the mattress as he settled on his own. “You did something nice for me, so I’m returning the favour.” You weren’t too sure how to reply, and you didn’t want him to ever feel obligated to you, but you did want him to be able to trust you with small and simple things, and so you were willing to let it slide, this time.

“I’m going to take it easy today, but you’re free to do whatever you want, take the car, or anything.” You waved a hand at him as you uncovered the bowl of freshly chopped fruit and a pastry, choosing to begin picking at the slices of apples and strawberries first.

“What are you going to do?”

“Oh, some laundry, I only brought a couple of weeks worth of clothes, so when we get somewhere with laundry rooms, I’m going to take advantage. Wash the bedsheets, too, keep everything fresh and cosy.” You bit into the flaky treat, catching the crumbs first before they fell away into the bedding. “I also want to take a nice bath. A hot bath. Washing up at rest stations hasn’t been all that amazing.”

He chuckled, nodding his head a little instead, and mumbling an agreement to you for your statement. “I’ll hang around and help out. It’ll be good to have a day without having to do anything, we can get on with things tomorrow.”

You studied him for a second, the look shared between you both sparking something that almost felt like an understanding, like a bond of something other than hostility or impassive civilship, before offering him a genuine smile. “Wanna’ take all the washing down, and then watch a movie later?”

“Can I pick the film?”

You scowled at his bargain, but nodded, and he wore a victorious look, and you finished up your food, the rumbling in your stomach settling down as you found yourself satisfied. He sat with you while you ate, and the silence wasn’t exactly easy going but it wasn’t the same tension that made you squirm in your seat as you thought of anything to just break the silence or get away from.

He helped you strip down the sheets in the car, and fill your bag, carrying everything into the hotel and setting it all off in the laundry. You plugged the portable charger in to spark back up, and you had your bath, spending a long time soaking in the hot water and letting your fears slip away.

It wasn’t exactly the beginning you had hoped for, or the trip you had dreamed of for so long in your mind, but this was different. You didn’t mind company, in fact, when you thought about it, it was probably nice that you weren’t going to spend so long alone, and getting to share the experience with anyone as you travelled around the country was better than being lonely, but every time Mitch shut you out and built his walls back up when they crumbled even the tiniest amount mad you feel colder and more isolated than if you’d never had a companion with you on the journey at all.

He was an enigma, sometimes he seemed almost like he was happy to be there, and other time, you and the trip seemed to be the bane of his existence, and you couldn't place exactly what it was you were doing that made him open up each time, or what it was you did that made him lock right back up tight.

By the time you’d snuggled down into the bedding, he’d managed to set up the TV and somehow found Netflix, logging himself in as he scrolled the options, a bag of popcorn out on his chest that you really weren’t sure where it was from, but he nodded his head in the direction of the fresh stack of laundry ready to be taken out to the car, and you found your own bag sitting on top. Leaning across to swipe it from where it was, you were quick to rip it open, the salty-sweet smell of freshly buttered popcorn drifting up into the air.

He had somehow managed to find ‘The Vampire Diaries’, a wicked glint in his eyes as he looked at you, lips twisted up in a smirk when he hit play, a blush flooding your cheeks as the opening scene came on, and as much as you adored the program, even you could admit that it was cheesy. You marathoned the episodes back to back, listening to his little commentary when he fell into his comfort zone a little more, and it wasn’t until late into the night that the two of you fell asleep, the ‘still watching?’ question still glaring on the screen when you stirred in the morning.

Your first full and energy-filled day in Orlando was bringing you a bouncy and peppy mood, that was surprisingly not shot down the second the man awoke, he simply groaned as he looked at you pulling open the curtains, before twisting to bury his head under his pillow and flipping you off.

“C’mon, Mitch, get up!” You sat on the edge of his bed, and he nudged his leg out in an attempt to push you from the mattress as he mumbled something indiscernible into the bedding. “I had an idea today for something that I think you’ll be into..”

Your voice was higher, almost singing the words out as you tried to tempt him, and he removed the pillow, huffing before turning to look at you, and while his face was entirely blank. You’d like to think you were able to understand the subtle twitches of his lips and eyebrows by now, and that he was a little less unreadable than he liked people to think, and so you were not perturbed by what may seem angry on the surface.

“I was thinking we could go to the Kennedy space centre for the day. It seems like something you’d want to do.” He sighed through his nose, but didn’t take his gaze away from your own, and you smiled a little, shuffling up the edge of the bed a little closer to him when he sat up in his pillows, wiping at his face and blinking into the morning light, yet to speak. “Was I right?”

He looked away, rolling his eyes a little, but a small smile twisted on his lips instead of the frown you’d been expected. “Yes.”

“Ha! I feel successful!” He snorted at your statement, using his knee to push you off the edge of the bed so that he could stand up, walking straight past you and into the bathroom, the door slamming shut before you had time to start telling him about all the cool things you’d read about online, but you didn’t care, because the two of you were already off to a good start, and you were determined to keep that same vibe going for the rest of the day.

Turned out he was taking a shower, a fact you discovered after lingering around for a good five minutes before he returned, and instead, you busied yourself with getting ready, the warmer weather of being sown somewhere with warmer temperatures, and you settled on wearing a lighter sundress, standing in front of the mirror in the room to braid your air when he finally emerged again. He had shaved, neatening up the messy scruff that had begun to grow out on his chin until it was in a more tidy scattering of hair along his jaw. One hand held the towel that was wrapped around his waist while the other grabbed at a pile of clothes, and you pointedly avoided looking at him in the reflection of the mirror as you focused on the movements of your fingers.

When he came back out, a black t-shirt that only reached halfway down his biceps, and sticking to him with bits of water, and a pair of blue jean shorts on his legs that brushed just above his knees, a jacket hanging over his arm for later in the night.

“Wow, you actually look like you’re on holiday, first time yet.” He rolled his eyes, dropping his head a little and running the towel over his head until it was merely damp instead of dripping wet. When he stood back up, strands were spiking up in random directions, the look of it making you laugh at the thought of it drying that way, and you tried to hide the noise, but he raised his brows at your snigger anyway. “Your hair is sticking up in all random directions.”

“Doesn’t matter, nobody cares, anyway.”

“Yeah, at the farm, maybe!” You stepped towards him, swinging your own plaited hair over your shoulder and out of your way. “When you’re all sweaty and covered in dirt after ten minutes, but you’re on your own time now. What if you want to take a picture and you look like you’ve been electrocuted?”

He simply sighed, but you could sense the amusement that washed over him as he caved, running a palm along the top of his head to try and push it flat, making it look like it had been badly gelled, and you placed your hands on your hips, biting on your lower lip to avoid the cringe you wanted to make at the sight.

“Can I just-” You took a little step forwards, and he hesitated, brows pulling together a little, and shoulders tensing up, but he gave you a single stiff nod and allowed you to enter his personal space. Reaching up a hand, you tried to style the slightly wet strands a little bit, quiffing them up just enough to look good while taming all the strays, and when you were appeased, you pulled your fingers away, humming to yourself with pride.

“Are you satisfied now?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.” You stepped away from him, moving across the room to grab your purse, and he was holding the door open by the time you were ready to go.

“I’ll drive. I’m feeling a lot better.” You fished through your bag for the keys, dropping them in his hand as you both reached the elevator, and in return, he handed you the room key to seal away in your bag.

“You think they have those big floppy hats anywhere? I want one.”

“What are you talking about?” He pushed the lobby button, leaning against the wall and pushing his hands into his pockets, before fixing you with a quizzical look when you turned to face him.

“You know, those big sun hats. That celebrities where so they don’t get recognised.”

He shook his head, fixing you with a heatless glare as he pursed his lips. “If you buy and wear one of those hats, I will go home and face your uncle’s wrath of my own accord. I am not being seen with you in one of those.” You gaped at him, before letting your chuckle best through, and he had the decency to grin a little to himself at his own jab.

“They’re stylish!”

“They’re hideous is what they are.”

He mumbled his response as the door dinged open, rebuking your insistence on the ‘staple fashion’ item as the bickering continued on, all the way through the parking lot until you reached the vehicle, and he held the door open for you as you climbed in, slamming it shut on your argument that if it was good enough for Sarah Jessica Parker in ‘Sex and the City’, then it was good enough for you. Unfortunately, he wasn’t having any of it, ignoring you with a smirk as he started up the car, and cranking the music up so loud you winced, just to drown you out.

You took the hint, choosing to change the topic, hoping to keep him engaged in what was by far the longest conversation the two of you had participated in, in which he was actively talking with you in return. All of your conversations before this day had been mostly you talking to him, spilling every thought that passed over your mind just to stop the awkwardness from creeping back in, but today, he was chatting back. Whether it was playful arguments, subtle insults with no hostility behind them, or even just chit chat, he was taking an interest, and then, it felt like the two of you might be able to enjoy your trip, if it was anything like this.

From the second you had pulled up, he had been just as gentlemanly, and you swore you saw a flash of excitement pass over his eyes as the two of you bought your tickets, the key to unlocking him a little bit and tempting him out to being less than just a robot for the CIA may lie in his hobbies and interests, should you somehow be able to coerce him into acknowledging that he has some.

Your first stop had been to plan your visit, the two of you leaning over the touch screens as you read about each attraction, checking out a site map and trying to choose your way around. You had signed up for a bus tour, one that still had two hours until your allotted space, and so you busied yourself with the ‘Heroes and Legends’ exhibit, and the ‘Race to the Moon - Apollo Centre’, he had actually looked happy, willingly allowing you to take pictures for him in front of various things, and even standing beside you in a few as you forced him to take pictures with you when you found a good shot in front of the fountains and the rockets.

Sending them both off to your uncle as proof that you hadn't dropped him off at a bus station and fled, he soon replied, asking if you were sure that was really Mitch, or whether you’d just grabbed another shaggy and mood stray man along the road by mistake. He had let out a full-bellied laugh at the comment when you’d shown it to him, before tucking your phone back into your pocket.

The whole day seemed to fly by too fast, the bus tour crowding the two of you in, but neither of you had to drive so you were more than happy, and you had wrestled yourselves to the seats at the back, each of you by a window for maximum enjoyment of the experience, before you’d finished the day by reading everything you could, and exploring every miniature exhibit in the ‘Now and Next’ section, being completely awestruck by words you didn’t understand.

By the time you left, you both had a NASA themed jumper, as well as a shirt to send home for Stan, and a sticker decal to put onto your laptop, your purchases happily swinging by your side in a paper bag with the logo printed across the front as you made your way back to the hotel room.

The temperature had dropped a little, and you were in half a mind to get your jumper out and put it on, but you wanted to wash it first, unsure of how many people had already touched it before buying it. Your conundrum was brought to an end when warm fabric was draped over your shoulders anyway, his fingers brushing yours as he reached down to take the bag from your hold so that you could push your hands through the jacket he had given you.

His other hand was tucked in his pocket, eyes fixed ahead of himself as you walked the distance back to your car, but you nudged him with your elbow a little once it was wrapped around you and you were warm, giving him your friendliest and gentlest smile a little when he was forced to turn his sights on you.

“I think there might yet be hope for us to be friends, Rapp.”

“Lucky me.” He muttered, tone dripping with sarcasm, but he lifted his elbow from where it was folded against his body, allowing you to loop your own arm through his and move a little closer to him as you fell into step beside one another.

It was on your final day in Florida that everything seemed to go wrong, blowing up in your face for reasons that you didn’t even understand.

You were red in the face and entirely exasperated as the two of you stood in the carpark, your hands on your hips and his arms folded over his chest as you stared one another down. The air between you both was all but crackling with rage and unresolved anger, and you weren’t even sure where it was all coming from.

You didn’t exactly have the whole day, already having repacked the car and sorted out the sleeping zone in the back, just trying to decide what to do with the small handful of hours that you had to fill while it was too hot to begin a seven and a half-hour drive to Alabama for your next pitstop. He had no ideas what he wanted to do, absolutely none, saying he was just happy to do whatever, and so you’d suggested taking a trip to Daytona Beach, which seemed to be where his issue had started. Somehow, the simple suggestions had deteriorated into a row, people staring at you both as they walked past to get to their cars.

“We’re not going to the fucking beach!”

He was all but seething, and you wanted to stomp your foot like a petulant child in your frustration, but resisted the urge. “You’re not in charge here!”

“I don’t care, I’ve done all the stupid shit you wanted to do every other day!” You felt a little wounded at the insinuation, and you were sure that the hurt had flicked over your face because he seemed to flinch back a little bit at your change, before you stepped back, swallowing thickly and pressing the keys into his hand. He looked between the metal bundle in his palm and you, silence taking up between you both where raised voices had been only seconds before.

“Fine, you don’t have to go to the beach, but I am. Just drop me off and then go and do whatever you want to do for the day, and come back for me a few hours later.”

He gave you a look that made you want to scream, bursting out with rage, but you bit your tongue and resisted the urge. “What, do you expect me to just drop you off at a random beach and leave you there all day? Alone, when anything could happen?”

“Oh, relax. I won’t let Stan have your head if anything happens, you won’t get the blame for my mess.” It was his time to look a little hurt as you spat the words at him, before pulling open the passenger seat door, hopping up yourself and peering back at him. “Just take me to the beach, Mitch, I’ll be fine.”

He groaned, stomping around to his side of the car and making sure to slam the door extra-aggressively as he got in. This time when he turned the music up, it was to purposefully ensure neither of you would speak, and you fished through your bag to check that you had anything in order to busy yourself from the ruined atmosphere between you both. What had been so positive only a day ago felt like it had been shredded and burnt, and the everlasting anger that cooked you from within felt like it had been extinguished, only to come back as a raging inferno today.

When you finally saw the palm trees melt away into white sand and blue sea, you felt your nerves ease a little, relaxing into the car seat as he pulled up he car, fingers clenching the steering wheel, and you opened the door, hopping out and releasing a happy sigh at the smell of salt, fried food, and the sound of waves lapping at the shore.

“Are you really doing this?”

“Yep. You can just pick me up in a few hours. Call me when you’re back at this spot, and I’ll come and meet you.” With that, you slammed the door on him, not looking back as you began your journey down toward one of the little beach huts and stalls to find a bathroom to change in, and somewhere to buy an ice cream. It took a minute before you heard the car pull away, and you were certain he’d spent that time cursing you out and muttering insults about you that only he could hear, but you didn't care, because you wanted to sunbathe, and so you were damn well going to.

With an ice pop in one hand, and your bag in the other, you wandered across the sand barefoot, shoes in your bag with your clothes and towel tucked under your arm, freshly shining with suncream and a swimsuit clad on your body as you wiggled your toes in the soft grains and searched for somewhere to set yourself up. A couple of stray beach umbrellas were still free, and so you were more than happy to claim one of them, making your way over as you wicked at the drips of juice escaping from the frozen treat, and dumping your things down into the sand gleefully.

Rolling out your towel under the shade, you straightened it out before turning and sitting down on it as you finished up the lolly in your hand and sealed the wooden stick into the front pouch of your bag to dispose of later. You replaced it with your sunglasses and your phone, sitting comfortably on the cotton and looking out around yourself at the people surrounding you, and snapping some photos of the beautiful sight that you could print off and frame when you eventually got home.

The flapping of another towel, spraying a little sand up onto your legs beside you made you turn to look, a pair of legs in your view as somebody came to sit beside you, and you squinted at the owner of said appendages as they sat down beside you. Your eyes widened a little bit as a recognisable mop of hair came into sight, and you pushed your glasses up onto the top of the head as he sat down, tugging his shirt up and over his head to discard of it to sit with the rest of his things, a pair of swimming trunks he absolutely wasn’t wearing before on his legs, and they seemed somewhat familiar to you.

“Did you just buy those?”

You reached out to poke at his thigh, the silky blue material shifting under your touch, and he granted at the feeling. “I didn’t own any.”

You merely nodded, waiting for him to expand, but he didn’t and so you placed your glasses back on and settled down onto your back, feeling a little better at not being alone, even if his mood was sour, but it wasn’t going to affect your experience, not even a little bit. “So, what are you doing here?”

“I couldn't just leave you at the beach alone. It’s not safe.”

You turned your head to look at him, finding his legs stretched out before him, hands resting behind his body to support himself, and staring out with a distant look on his face as he watched the waves meet the shore, coming in all the way from the horizon. Something about the rasp in his voice and the tuned out look on his face made you feel a little guilty, and you popped yourself up on your elbows. “It’s just a beach, Mitch, I’ll be totally fine.”

“Yeah, well, the last time I was at a beach I got shot.” The realisation of his hatred of the location made a chilling coldness shoot along your body, from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, but he shrugged, giving you a glance out of the side of your eyes. “But, you want to go to the beach, and I don’t want to leave you, so we’re at the beach.”

You swallowed thickly, looking at him for a second, and watching as he took a deep and steadying breath. Sitting up a little more, you moved around the pole of the umbrella, perching yourself half on his towel and half in the sand, your thigh pressing to his as you seated yourself next to him. “Thank you.”

You whispered the words, but he turned to look at you, giving you a nod of the head as he watched you, whiskey brown eyes staring into your own as the tension between you both melted away. Rather than pushing your body away from his own, he shifted his arm to rest behind you back for support, before snapping his attention over to his bag. “I brought you something.”

“Yeah?”

“To say sorry for shouting at you. I’m not great at apologies, but I figured it would do the trick.” He produced a slightly crumpled but still pretty woven hat from his bag, and you laughed loudly at the sight as he reached up to push it down onto your head, the rim brushing his hair when you both settled back to look out at the ocean. The floppy hat on your head made you heart race the gesture making you warm up from the inside out. “I’m not going in the ocean.”

“That’s okay, you can stay with the stuff when I swim later.” He hummed under his breath, but twitched a little at the idea, and you pulled your legs up to your chest, reaching back across for your phone. “I’ll stay where you can see me, so you know nothing’s wrong.”

“Thank you.” You barely caught his response, and you weren’t sure what he was thanking you for; whether it was the simple act, the acknowledgement of his trauma, your forgiveness for his behaviour, or perhaps all three, but you just gave him a smile in response, the two of you finding a harmony one again as the waters of you friendship settled back out from the pebbles you’d thrown only a couple of hours prior.

He never moved from the towel, but he did watch you swim in the ocean, and he took pictures with you, and he looked after your stuff. He reminded you to reapply your sunscreen, and he laughed and joked with you after the two of you had moved on from the weight of your makeup conversation, and you decided that today had been even better than yesterday, because while you thought you’d been knocked down and your almost-friendship had ended, he had helped you up and confirmed that there was definitely hope between the two of you, there was a friendship forming.

After you had finished on the beach, you used one of the outdoor showers to wash yourself off of sand and salt, dipping back into a stall to change back into a simple sundress, treasuring the new hat on top of your head as he watched you, before you’d set off on enjoying the falling temperature before setting off on your journey. You had hotdogs for lunch, and walked along the pier, and even stopped in at some of the little gift shops, your arm linked with his as you went along, before finally getting to the car as the sun began to lower on the horizon, and the cool breeze was enough to make you shiver, the car no longer feeling like you were sitting inside an oven when you got in, but instead being a comfortable warmth to travel during the night in.

You weren’t too sure when it had happened, but you were certain that you had fallen asleep sometime after passing the signs for splitting off for ‘Lake City’, and you had woken up with a blanket tucked over your body that you were certain hadn't been there before. You stirred a little bit, a whine escaping you before you could stop it as you felt your muscles stretching and joints popping a little.

Mitch turned to look at you, his face neutral, a pleasant change to the scowl you were used to seeing, and the simple change had smoothed out the creases along the sides of his mouth, or the wrinkles on his forehead from the constant look of anger and irritation he had when he was at the farm with your uncle, and your hand itched with the urge to reach up and brush a finger over the place where the lines had once been.

“Sleep well?”

“I did, actually.” You snuggled down into the blanket a little more, muffling your yawn as you tried to shake yourself awake, despite the darkness still occupying the sky. “How long was I out? Do you want me to take over?”

“About four hours, there’s not long to go now. I was going to wake you soon anyway, I wanted to stop off for some coffee, and there’s a place up ahead. Is that okay?” You simply nodded in reply, and he returned it with a curt gesture of his own, before looking back to the open road, and reading at the signs that flashed by. You were more than happy to adjust into your morning, finding yourself taking a little longer to wake up than usual, because for the first time on this whole trip, you had felt truly comfortable in the presence of the man beside you.

No anxiety or anger was taking over, you were pushing down frustrations at his attitude and biting your tongue to stop from lashing out, but you were instead relaxed and happy, eyes fluttering a little as you tried to keep yourself away, rubbing at your eyes and sitting up a little straighter as the car began to slow down, pulling off onto a side-lane as the neon lights of a diner and truckstop just behind the trees made its presence well known to anyone travelling on the highway.

Finding a parking space was easy, one a decent distance away from everyone else, the car safe at the back as you hopped out, and you were begrudging to shed the blanket from your shoulder as the cooler air swept over you, arms wrapping around yourself instead. It wasn’t actually all that cold, but going from the coziness of sleep haze and blanket wrapped tenderness, to standing on your feet when you’re barely stable in the middle of a truck stop car park was a different story.

“Cold?”

The car flashed as it locked beside you, and you nodded a little, but forced yourself to peel your arms down from being wrapped around your body to sit at your sides. “I’ll be fine once we get inside, I was all snuggly under my blanket. Thanks for that, by the way.”

He offered you a flick of his lips in return, patting his pockets for his wallet and finding it in the front pocket of his hoodie, adding the car keys to it, before making his way over to you. Slinging an arm over your shoulders, you were curled in a little closer to his body, as he guided you across the lot, eyes peering around suspiciously as he took in everyone and everything he saw, from the placement of the car to the smokers standing outside and blowing clouds of smoke up into the air, his CIA training never letting up as he instinctively observed and memorised the area as best he could.

You were correct, the second you got inside the doors of the diner, warm air washed over you, and you let out a hum of contentment at the feeling, his arm dropping from around you as the two of you found a booth, settling in on opposite sides of it. You had a large mug of black coffee in your hands only minutes later, a large order of a breakfast meal at the all-hours kitchen felt like a god-send, and you blew the steam from the top of your mug as you watched Mitch stir creamer into his mug.

“So, can I ask a question?”

“I would love it if you did.” He rose a curious eyebrow at you, and you rose a single shoulder in a slightly embarrassed shrug, before taking a sip of the warm drink and letting out an inaudible moan into the drink, already feeling rejuvenated just from the first taste. “You don’t talk to me much, it would be nice to become more like friends on this trip instead of strangers.”

He ducked his head a little, and you worried you’d crossed a line, but when he looked up, he almost looked happy, and you brightened up yourself just at the sight. A smile from Mitch Rapp felt rare, but you were receiving one right now, and you were basking in the glory of it. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a friend. I’d really like that.”

“So, what was your question?”

“I wanted to know what the fuck we’re doing in Alabama.” His words were blunt, and you couldn't help the sharp laugh that left you, his eyes twinkling at the sight, before he was chugging almost half of the contents of his mug in one.

“It’s more of a stop off, really, to stretch our legs. Otherwise it was, like, a ten-hour drive, and I tried to split up most of the long drives as much as I could.” You shrugged, swilling your drink a little before taking another long sip of it. “I found this store that sells lost luggage, and you never know what kind of cool things we could find there. It’s like thrift shopping but even more obscure shit than thrift shops have.”

“Sounds fun.”

“We can get back on the road by later this evening, but I was also thinking we could stop somewhere and get a drink if we have time. There’s a bar that’s called ‘Rattlesnake Saloon’, I think, and it seemed fun. It’s only like a four-hour drive from where we’ll be down to New Orleans, so we can get it all done by the end of today.”

He agreed silently, and you took that as your queue to stop your internal monologue, the progress the two of you were making was too much to risk him backing out of if you overwhelmed him by talking non-stop just to fill the silence, but it seemed that he had different ideas; “How do I not know about you? I’ve been around for years, now.”

“I don’t come around so much. Uncle Stan comes to see me every Sunday for dinner, he updates me on everything, he just doesn’t like me hanging around over on your side, because if he’s off with trainees, he doesn’t really trust them not to get distracted.” It was a vague answer, but Mitch nodded like he understood, and made sure that he caught your eye as he tried to find his next words.

“For the record, if you did ever want to come around, I would like to see you.” He offered a smile, and you grinned into your mug, thanking the waitress as she placed down the meals before you both, cutlery soon following it, and your stomach rumbled slightly as the smell of the delicious plateful reached your senses. “So, when you say he updates you on everything, what kind of things do you know?”

“Oh, do you mean about the CIA black ops divisions, the Orion team specifically, or are you asking what I know about you?” His eyes widened a little, before he let out a deep breath, nodding his head with a small laugh that was masked by his sigh. “You’re surprised.”

“No, I’m relieved. I didn’t want to have to hide anything from you.”

You weren’t too sure how to reply, so instead you busied yourself with your hashbrown, the two of you falling into casual conversation between bites of food as you ate, opting to change the conversation to something a little more lighthearted, you were the main focus of the conversation, no matter how much you tried, you didn’t get through to him, he didn’t share much about his past, the things you didn’t know, but that was okay, because he was asking about you, and at least putting the effort in to get to know you. Another two cups of coffee were in your system before the sun was beginning to make its presence known, and the two of you decided that the rest of the journey was due to be completed. You took on the drive this time, and while you had insisted that it was okay for him to sleep, he opted against it, snoozing a little bit keeping up the conversation.

It seemed that the heavier weights of conversation had come crashing back over you both once you were back on the roads, dust kicking up behind you both as you continued on your adventure. The lost luggage shop was fun, the two of you seeming to shift through everything in that store, the hours passing far more quickly than you could control. You left with a pair of wireless and soundproof headphones, and a purple plaid jacket that Mitch said made you look like a lumberjack, and if it was three sizes too big and super baggy? Well, that was just even better.

He himself left with a new sports watch, his last having bee smashed by a recruit during a fight, and a pair of sunglasses with blue-tinted lenses that made him look like he was something from an intense spy film, the scowl and his body language only adding to it, and you couldn't help the picture you took as he did, showing it to him, and he’d quickly agreed with you.

As it turned out, despite how long you’d spent in the little store, you did have time for one drink at the bar you’d found, taking pictures of everything from the drinks to the cowboy style to the creative cliff top overhead, staring up at it in awe as you watched the nature from above grow over the top. You grabbed a quick bite to eat, to soak up any excess alcohol, before the two of you were on the road once again, with you excitedly singing along to the music as you drove, and Mitch poking fun at your driving, the light-hearted humour carrying you all the way along on the shorter drive towards Louisiana.

It was the asscrack of dawn by the time the two of you arrived in New Orleans, having swapped over on the driving a good two or three times, despite the tiny drive that it was in actuality, but you’d stopped a couple of times along the way at several little gift shops, and once to take a walk along the edge of a sweet little lake just outside of New Orleans, Lake Pontchartrain, the two of you watching as the sun came up over the water glittering across the slightly rippled surface, and you had found yourself once again tucked under the man’s arm, this tom daring to loop your own around his waist as you walked, and when you stopped, only detaching when you got back to the car for the final piece of the journey.

You had to admit, it was nice for you too, to be able to make a friend that understood everything about your life. A friend who understood that sometimes you would temporarily drop off the radar, and why you lived in the middle of nowhere, and why social media wasn’t exactly a big thing for you. It was nice to feel understood, and helping Mitch rediscover who he was was without the pain and suffering of his past and his job, was helping you to discover who you really were, and helping you work through some of your own issues.

You’d always been the most important thing in your uncle’s life and so he’d done his best at any given time to make sure you got everything out of life, but being so closed off from the world had made it difficult for you to get to know the social nuances of other people, and so you and Mitch were a learning experience for one another at the same time.

Your hotel was on Bourbon Street, because as you had so eloquently pointed out mid-yawn when he’d asked you ‘if you were serious’, you had confirmed that yes, you were very serious, because there was no what that you were going to come to New Orleans and not stay on Bourbon Street. You checked in and found your two beds, barrel even remembering to pull the curtains closed as you both made it through your nighttime routines, scrubbing at your teeth with minty toothpaste and changing into pyjamas, before crashing on your beds without another word other than some mumbled goodnights.

It was your alarm clock that woke both of you up, a shrill ringing that you’d forgotten you’d set and hadn't turned down, wanting to get up and have a shower before you got on with your day, and the sleepy man had glared at you from his bed, rolling over and face the wall as you snickered behind your hand. Sweet-scented shampoo and a very bubbly soap had refreshed you entirely, snapping you into your morning and giving you the wakeup call you had so desperately desired.

He was still in bed when you emerged, your clothes already on and simple skincare for the day completed, and your hair was still damp, but you weren’t willing to let the day slip away. “Mitch, get up!”

“No.” You barely heard him, before he was pulling the covers up and over his head as you yanked open the curtains, and he groaned out at the motion. You made your way over, standing on the edge of his bed and kicking at his legs from above, to which he promptly kicked back. “Go away, I thought this was supposed to be holiday hours.”

“It is a holiday! But I only have this room for two more nights, which means we only have three days in New Orleans, and I want to get some of the signature pastries from Café Du Monde before they sell out of the freshest batch!” You teased, and his messy bedhead poked up above the blankets.

“Pastries?”

“Freshly baked beignets.” You said, a sing-songy tone to your voice, and he sat up a little further, noticing that you’d caught his attention. “Little fried fritters, in powdered sugar. You can get coffee too, and fruits.”

He stared at you for a long minute, before seeming to crack, and he shook his head. “Fine, let me shower first, and I want a lie in tomorrow.”

“Deal!”

You watched him go, the bathroom door slamming at the water started up, and it took him about as long in the shower as it id for you to dry your hair, and the second he’d pulled on a change of clothes and prepared himself alongside you, he ruffled his hair dry on a towel, tipping it towards you for you to sort the strands, and he gave you a false glare for the giggle you let out at the action. Sifting your finger through his hair, you flattened them down into a reasonably decent smile, but not without making a comment about how he needed a haircut, to which he promptly shut down as he pushed you a little out of the way and headed to the door.

It was a short walk to the café, a warm breeze washing over your legs, even though it had barely reached midday yet, and as promised, you had been served the freshest of the pastries that the two of you could get, Two portions between you both, and several cups of coffee, you also split a fruit bowl, nibbling on the juicy treats as you chatted. You bought a box of the coffee to send to your uncle, taking it home forever as you collected it up, as well as a couple of the mugs that caught your eye, and Mitch had even purchased one for himself, brushing his finger over the lettering and the logo on the front as he purchased his first real souvenir of the trip.

Your next stop was the post office, the man shooting you a quizzical look as you went, browsing through boxes and shipping labels, before gathering up all the supplies that you needed.

“I figured we could box up and mail all out souvenirs and purchases back to my Uncle, and he can collect them up and keep them safe, so that they don’t all get lost or damaged in the car, and we don’t get overwhelmed.”

“If I send something back to be kept safe, your uncle will give it to the recruits to play soccer with before we get back.” He teased helping you carry all of the shipping items you’d purchased out of the door and back onto the street, the sun now shining down warm and clear from above.

“Send it all in my name. If we box it all up together, it gives me an excuse to see you once all this is finished, when we get home.” You spoke the words earnestly as you made your way back to the hotel, to spend the better part of a few hours wrapping, labelling and shipping it all, and he turned to look at you, face a little unreadable.

“You don’t need an excuse.” You were a little frozen once again, the lines between comradery and friendship between you both becoming blurred, but you still weren’t sure where you lay with it, and then his face split into a teasing look. “Unless I’m sick of you by then. I may have to hide when I hear you’re coming over.”

“Oh, shut it.” You jabbed your elbow at his side, his training making it easy for him to duck and swerve out of the way in time, which only resulted in a large grin taking place on his face. “By the end of all this, you’re going to be missing me like crazy. You’ll be calling and begging me to come and hang out with you.”

“Sure thing.”

You had just about made it in time for the post office, the woman a little perturbed at not being able to close up fifteen minutes early, but you’d left a healthy tip in the labelled jar beside the counter for her, knowing that the number of boxes labelled ‘delicate’ to all be shipped a good few states over was a hassle for her, but she completed it without complaint, and you couldn't have been more grateful.

It felt like a task taken off of your plate, leaving you both with a worry and stress-free evening to spend in New Orleans, quickly settling on getting the full experience, and going for a few drinks at a jazz and blues bar. Neither of you had to drive, and so you were able to indulge in a few more drinks than you had so far, your hotel only a short walk from the bar you’d chosen.

Bourbon Street by night was alive with energy, buzzing with excitement and thrill, and you could feel the atmosphere lifting you up onto their level, the idea of people getting to live here and experience it everyday making you prickle with a little jealousy, but you knew it was only as special to you now because you’d never experienced it before, that it was a rarity and something to be treasured, not envied.

The buildings were a mix of modern and ancient, still holding their beautiful French architectural designs with the balconies and the stylings of their decorations, but being lit up with neon signs that gave the entire road an ethereal kind of colourful glow. You felt pulled in every direction, not wanting to miss a single thing, and the pictures you took with the bright backdrop had been breathtaking. Blues and pinks and yellows, all glittering from signs above and around you, the kind of vibe that felt surreal while you experienced it, and made you wonder whether it was all just a dream when you thought about it later that night, laying in bed as your heart still raced.

New Orleans was beautiful, and your second day had only been more fun.

“I have a plan, Mitch!”

“You promised me a lie in!” He growled, and you took a seat on the floor beside his bed, placing your arms across the mattress and balancing your chin atop them, waiting for him to surface from the disturbance of the covers when you did so, a small giggle on your lips when you felt him shuffle, before glaring at you when his eyes finally met your own.

“I did give you a lie-in! It’s midday!”

He huffed, reaching out for his phone on the nightstand and almost smacking you in the head with it when he reached back, barely being able to duck in time, and from the look on his face, you couldn’t decide whether or not he'd done it on purpose. As though he hadn't believed you, his eyes widened as he checked the time to see that you weren’t lying to him, a few minutes fast twelve, officially making it the afternoon, and he groaned under his breath, running a hand over his face.

“Do you want to sleep longer?”

He gave you a pointed look, as though to say ‘duh’ without actually speaking the words, and you offered him a small smile, ducking your head again when he shifted to put his phone back down, placing his head on his pillow and closing his eyes once again, shutting you out in silence. “Give me, like, another hour and a half.”

“That’s cool, I’ll come back and get you later, we can go for dinner!”

You shuffled away from the bed, backing away across the floor as you took your hands from the mattress, standing up again and brushing off your pants of the dust and dirt it had collected when you’d sat down. A hand locked around your wrist, honey-brown eyes peering up at you, narrowed and curious. “Where are you going?”

“I want to go and check out all the places they filmed any and all scenes that had a Mikaelson in.”

“Another TV show tour?” He mumbled, letting out a low breath as you nodded at him excitedly.

“I would almost be surprised that you hadn't seen ‘The Originals’, but you haven’t watched ‘The Vampire Diaries’ either, so I’ll let you off.” You teased, and he rolled his eyes, hugging his pillow a little closer to his chest, his cheek pressed into it.

“Vampires aren’t my thing. Plots always suck.”

“Woman don’t watch the shows for the pl-” You paused, looking at the cheeky flick of his lips as you gasped. “Did you just make a vampire pun?”

“Yep.”

“It’s like I’m meeting a whole new person.” His eyelids shifted a little, and you could’ve sworn he’d actually rolled his eyes at you with his eyes closed, which isn’t something you would have put past him.

“Give me another half an hour, then, and I’ll come with you.” He sighed, turning away from you and waving a hand at the curtains you’d opened as his face scrunched up, and you closed them once again, the fabric barely doing anything to hide the light in the room that was coming from the bright sun sitting high in the sky.

“You don’t have to.”

“Yeah, but I want to.” He mumbled, and you nodded your head, taking a seat beside his legs on the end of his bed when he shifted them to the side and dragged the covers out of the way, letting you sit and wait for him as he snoozed a while longer, and you took the time to go through the list of places you wanted to visit. While you were well aware that not all of the filming was actually done in New Orleans, there were definitely a handful of places that you could see, and you were all but exploding with anticipation at the chance to do so. “What are we doing tomorrow?”

He sounded like he was barely present for the question, somewhere between this land and a dreamscape, but you turned to look at him anyway, despite knowing he wouldn't be looking back. “No plan, just figured we could go with the flow, or whatever.”

“We could go check out the ‘LaLaurie Mansion’, could be fun.” You gasped, staring at him in pure shock, and he cracked a smile at your reaction, stretching a little as he rolled over. “What, you’ve never seen American Horror Story?”

He was using your own words against you, pushing himself up to sit as he blinked into the light a little, and you shook your head to clear it, before grinning at him with a smile you didn’t even want to prevent. “Looks like you do know how to have fun, after all.”

He stuck his tongue out at you childishly, retracted his leg up the bad and you weren’t quick enough to move, being sent into a pile on the floor with a yelp as you were removed from the mattress, and he hummed in victory as you lay on the ground. He stepped over you a second later, looking at you on the floor with a smirk before swiping up some clothes and his toothbrush from the bag of his toiletries on the side, and switching on the cold tap to splash some water on his face.

You were practically pulling him out of the room ten minutes later, knowing that he was purposefully dragging out everything he did, changing his shirt three times just to make you wait, and with both hands on his forearm you’d dragged him all the way to the main door of the building before releasing him when he finally stopped dragging his feet and digging his heels in, laughing at your eager desperation to get on with the day as it approached one o’clock, and you still had things to do.

Tucking yourself under his arm to keep out of the way of others on the busy street, he adjusted you a little, his hand hanging over your shoulder as you pulled up the map on your phone for you both to see, covering your own eyes, as the sunglasses he’d purchased from the luggage shop in Alabama sat on his face.

“Thanks to someone changing his outfit like a diva, we lost a whole bunch of time.” You mumbled, his laugh rumbling up beside you.

“Fifteen minutes.”

“A whole bunch of time.” You nudged him in the side with your elbow, feeling him raise his hand from your shoulder temporarily to flick your ear, and you rubbed at it absentmindedly while looking at the directions on your phone. “Figured we could walk from here to the Lafayette Cemetery, it’s only an hour's walk, but our tour isn’t until five tonight, so we can take our time and check out other stuff while we go.”

“We’re taking a tour of a cemetery?”

“Yep!” He gave you a look like you were far too cheerful about the prospect of walking around a graveyard for a while, but you purposefully ignored looking at him. “First up, St. Louis Cathedral.”

You took photos in front of the beautiful building, the sun lighting up the exterior until it almost looked as though it was glowing, and it all seemed all the more natural that it did, a blessed appearance taking over your photos. You explored that end of the French Quarter in detail; visiting a Voodoo shop, even backtracking far enough to go to ‘Boutique Du Vampyre’, taking your time going around the store, checking out everything within the colourful and quaint little gift shop, the crowded building feeling out of place in the elegant and organised streets, like you’d stepped into an entirely new place when you’d walked through the door.

You listened to music and dropped change in the cases, cups and hates of almost every street performer you came across, and tried snacks from every street vendor you reached, sharing out the treats between you both as you made your way along, stopping at any and everything that caught either of your attention. You ended up with more photos than you’d expected, leaving you with a rapidly filling camera roll, hours worth of work when you finally got home and were able to sort through them all, printing off your favourites to build into a large photo album, ensuring that you’d never forget even a single moment of the trip.

After your tour of the cemetery, learning more than you thought there was a history to be had, and getting a chilling vibe all the way through, the two of you had settled on the Delachaise Wine Bar for your dinner, sampling different glasses and sharing them out as you filled up on french fries and bread rolls, before making the slow walk back to your hotel, seeing everything once again on you return, but this time by night.

The day had passed faster than you’d expected or hoped for, and yet, it was filled with priceless memories, the late hour making everything seem entirely new and different from the ay it had in the day, everything you passed seeming like a new building, signs lit up with glowing lights and the cheery and upbeat music from the day had taken on a lower and more sensual tone, changing with the mood as the early evening turned to night, seeing you off into your hotel with a smile on you face and a head full of thoughts that you’d never forget.

“So, I did a bit of research.” You started, and he turned to look at you, lowering his phone for a second from where he’d been taking photos, his attention now on you, waiting quietly for you to continue. “Turns out, that whole iconic witch’s walk in that one episode is outside of a restaurant and bar, and it’s only a few streets over. It’s called Vacherie Restaurant, and I made us a booking.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” You were waiting with bated breath, hoping you’d made the right call, your suspicions being confirmed when his face cracked with a bright smile, and you let out a relieved sigh.

Much like he had spent the entire day with you yesterday exploring the sets and shooting locations of one of your favourite TV shows, you were now doing the same for him, the two of you wandering around the end of the French Quarter you hadn't yet gotten a chance to explore, taking in everything before you. Your first stop had, of course, been the LaLaurie Mansion he’d been so excited about, the man having been the one to wake you up this morning, pulling you from one end of the bed to almost falling out of it, hands on your ankles tugging you down the mattress until you’d been giggling and kicking at him as he dodged you, prompting you to get up so you could make the most of your third day.

It was only a short walk, the two of you grabbing to-go breakfast from a little caf�� to eat as you walked, coffee and a breakfast burrito in your system waking you up considerably as you prepared yourself for the day. Neither of you had all that much of a plan, some quick googling as you walked had done wonders, however, guiding you through the already crowded streets as you made your way towards your various destinations.

Some were closer and some were further, the two of you working to create a list of your destinations, making your day a little easier to navigate. You were due to be on the road again by tonight, already having repacked the car and checked out of your hotel, but you were armament to spend as much time soaking up the sun and walking around as you could, before you were back on the road for a long drive up to Texas.

“So, when are we booked in?”

“I figured we could go for a late lunch, before we see the house they used for the academy, since it’s down in the Garden District, and we have to head that way anyway to get back on the main road.” He nodded, before he was reaching out to you a little, holding up his phone.

“Want to take a picture with me?”

You put your own away as you agreed to the request, his arm wrapping around you as he held up the device away from you both, positioning you to be able to see the house in the background, a smile on his face as you beamed brightly at the camera and squinted at the sun.

“I used to record and photograph everything, you know. I loved it, keeping a hold of my memories and all the moments that mattered, but for the last few years, there hasn’t been anything worth remembering, so I stopped.” It was a heavy confession, and you weren’t too sure what he was expecting from you, whether he was looking for comfort, or simply to get something off of his chest, but heat crawled up his face and made his cheeks tint pink as he looked at you, waiting for a response.

Instead, you wrapped your arms tightly around his waist, pulling him into you as his arms hung at his sides, your bodies pressed together in a hug, and you felt the way he stiffened underneath you, you laughed muffled as your shoulder pressed into his chest. It took him a minute to respond before his arms were wrapping around you lightly, holding you in return as his cheek pressed into your hair, and then, he was squeezing you like his life depended on it.

Only for a second, but he let his walls down, and then he was letting you go, breath rushing back into your lungs from where it had been squeezed from you, and his face was even redder than it had been, eyes shining a little, but he didn’t have his defensive stance or aggressive expression. His shoulders were slumped and he seemed relaxed. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Mitch.” You hooked your arm through his, immediately soothing the tension building by asking if he wanted to stop by the patisserie shop you’d passed by on your way over here, getting a whole boxful to take with you in the car to snack on as you drove across the country to your next state.

You visited the ‘Marie Laveau: House of Voodoo’, before moving on to taking a wander around the St. Louis Cemetery to look at the crypts, before going for your lunch. It had consisted of thrilled discussions about everything you had done, comparing and swapping photos as you ate, and talking about the bits that you’d personally found the most enjoying. It wasn’t just the time in New Orleans that you discussed, but you managed to force him to open up about the rest of the trip you’d taken so far, the things he had fun doing even if he hadn't been willing to admit it at the time.

With full stomachs and smiling faces, you’d piled back into the car for the first time in days, upon making the walk back to the hotel parking lot. It was almost strange, having spent so much time on your feet and using the vehicle as little as possible, opting for you to drive the small distance down to the Buckner Mansion, the final location used as you drove along, through the Warehouse District and down to the Garden District, mitch taking pictures out of the windows as you went.

After his confession, which neither of you had risked to speak of again, he seemed like he was finally accepting that it was okay for him to live his life, and to admit that he was having fun, actually wanting to take photos and record the sights he was seeing, to relive them once you’d left and gone home.

You couldn’t go inside, but you could walk around the garden, peering inside as you leaned dup to the windows, and taking pictures on the steps up to the front door, talking about all the scenes that you could specifically pinpoint, and making the most of it, before having to leave as the lower light began to fade and the night came in, ushering out the warmer temperatures as a cool night breeze came in.

You flipped a coin, deciding who would do the first half of the journey, Mitch calling heads as it came spinning back down towards your hand, and that side had been the one facing upwards at you both when you’d both studied it, the man cheering to himself, even though you insisted it wasn’t much of a prize to have to drive for several hours in the dark when he’d rather be sleeping, but he was just happy to have won something.

Houston was your next destination, hoping to reach it by the time the morning rolled around, the shift between you both in New Orleans only making you happier about the rest of your journey to come.

#mitch rapp #mitch rapp x reader #mitch rapp/reader #mitch rapp american assassin #mitchtober #mitch-tober #mitch month #mitch rapp x reader smut #mitch rapp/reader smut #dylan obrien mitch rapp #dylan obrien american assassin #dylan obrien x reader #dylan obrien x reader smut #dylan obrien/reader #dylan obrien/reader smut #dylan obrien #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien imagine

[badacts]

the water is rising/i’m too tired to swim

There was nowhere else on Earth like Smallville. Or, for that matter, off of it.

Of course, little but the high holidays and complete disaster seemed to bring him back here these days. Sometimes he had to wonder whether regular adults felt the same as him, living so far from the places they’d grown up in. That aching wonder at being able to come home, with the overlapping whisper of a sense that that home couldn’t last forever.

Disaster made Clark Kent more introspective than Christmas, it turned out.

Bruce, who had stripped down to the suit baselayer with a pair of Clark’s sweatpants pulled over top, was leaning against the railing of the porch. He appeared to be watching the sunrise, though Clark suspected that was a front for him staring into the middle distance lost in thought. Clark would swear part of the reason the man kept the lenses in his cowl down during League meetings was to disguise the difference between his absent thinking expression and the force of his focus.

“How’s he doing?” Clark asked, voice kept low. Ma and Pa would be up soon anyway, but after the late night they’d caused it was the least he could do.

“Lantern is fine,” Bruce replied. His only tell was a tightening of his knuckles on the railing, there and then gone.

“And you?”

This earned him a look. “Any word from Diana?”

“She’ll be here by tonight with news. But we have our orders.”

“Orders.” Bruce’s expression was one of immense distaste. “We have a round table for a reason.”

“That’s what I’m usually telling you,” Clark replied, just as he normally would, and then winced. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” 

Now Bruce’s face had gone still, an indication either that he was angry or that he genuinely had no idea what Clark meant. Clark, used to treading that particular line on the side of caution - at least in this one respect - felt his eyes becoming inexorably attracted to his feet. Being back home turned him into an ashamed eight-year-old too easily.

“I should have been prepared,” he said. 

Because he should have been. He should have known. Of all the temptations and causes, there were few other things Hal Jordan would like to throw his life away for with that particular degree of abandon. This had been Clark’s problem, and he should have been able to solve it without ever involving either of these two men, with their particular idiosyncrasies.

Just - kids were a hotspot for both of them, even kids from far-flung planets being trafficked across a variety of civilisations that just so happened to include the human ones. Bruce had long accepted that it was more reasonable to live for children, not die for them, but Hal hadn’t got that memo yet.

“You can’t possibly imagine that I’m angry with you.”

“I,” Clark began, and then stopped. To be honest, he hadn’t really imagined that Bruce wasn’t.

Bruce turned to look at him more fully, coolly assessing. The huff afterwards was indecipherable. 

“Bruce-”

The man had turned back to the horizon. He said, “Clark, have I ever struck you as the type to make excuses for Green Lantern?”

Clark stepped up and leaned against the railing next to him. “There was never any danger of anyone accusing you of favouritism, certainly. Well, not towards Hal.”

The huff this time was definitely shaded with amusement. “Lantern can take responsibility for his own mistakes, Kal. He doesn’t need you falling on your sword for him.” 

It wasn’t a mistake, Clark didn’t say, because he didn’t need to. But Bruce’s anger would translate as it liked to - Clark had known him for long enough to know that.

“Well, what’s a mission without the post-mission pervasive guilt,” Clark replied, an attempt at humour. Because it was Bruce, it didn’t fall flat. That was one thing about the man no one who didn’t know him would guess - humourless he may seem, but he was capable of poking fun at himself. Or maybe it was just because he knew Clark well. 

It was Hal’s bloody victorious smile that had done it, he thought. Or maybe it was Batman’s sudden anger, alien from beneath the cowl which usually presented only the cold judgement of old god. That fierce protective anger usually reserved for Robins, in a situation where there were no Robins to be found. Or that Clark hadn’t known that Green Lantern might be a focus of it, hadn’t known there was anything there to know.

It wasn’t that it didn’t make sense. It’s that he hadn’t considered it, not once. 

“You boys need to get to bed,” Ma said from the door. She was folded warmly into her dressing gown, the one Lois had got her for Christmas a few years back. “Don’t think I don’t know you’ve been up all night.” Her cool hand settled on Clark’s back, like it had from the time he got tall enough she didn’t have to hunch to do it.

“I’m always up all night,” Bruce replied, with a lilt of amusement at himself.

“Well, maybe in those cities that never sleep, that works. Out here, if you don’t sleep with the sun, you won’t get through a day on the farm,” Ma replied. Her other hand pressed to Bruce’s back, there and gone. “You look exhausted.”

“Well, if I need to help milk cows later,” Bruce conceded. It was entirely possible that he had no idea Ma and Pa didn’t keep dairy cows on the property, and hadn’t since their last gentle old house cow had gotten too old to calve. For a man with a seemingly encyclopedic knowledge on many topics, his practical knowledge of farming was limited to desultorily prodding at the inner workings of Pa’s old truck.

“Off you go,” Ma ushered, shooing them into the house like a woman her size shouldn’t have been able to. “I’ll wake you if the world is ending.”

“Not if I hear it first,” Clark said.

*

Bruce retreated to the guest room, feet soundless on the rugs along the hall floor. Martha was right enough, that he needed sleep. As irritating as it was to need it now in particular, he could concede that there was little place safer than Superman’s family home while Superman was in it.

Hal was curled on his side in the guest bed, though he twitched and roused at the sound of the door opening. “Mmff. Hey, baby.”

“Lantern, it’s me,” Bruce replied brusquely.

“Nothing wrong with my eyes,” Hal said. He moved under the duvet, and then hissed out his breath. “Unlike my ribs, fuck.”

“Give me a pillow.”

One incredulous brown eye focussed on him from amidst said pillows. He seemed to have placed them strategically, though Bruce wasn’t sure when.  “Over my suppurating corpse.”

Of course. Bruce picked up his cape from the pile of his gear in the corner and spread it on the floor beside the bed. There was at least a thick rug, some kind of synthetic shag.  

“The fuck are you doing?”

“Sleeping,” Bruce replied. “You ought to do the same. You’ll be coherent enough for a strategic meeting later.”

“That’s a funny way to describe you and Clark arguing in the kitchen while Diana watches and laughs internally,” Hal said, “But it does explain a lot about your personal approach to injury recovery.”

“It’s just a concussion.”

“If you could tell yourself from six hours ago that, I’d appreciate it.”

Bruce wore that like the censure it was meant as. He knelt down on the rug, though it made his spine complain and his hip crack audibly. Another shade of embarrassment. At least this one was in front of the team member most likely to understand human fallibility. 

Hal heaved a gusty sigh. “Just get in.” 

“What?”

The single eye managed to convey challenge as well as the rest of the man tended to. A hand pushed the blankets back.

“It’s a double,” Bruce said. The Kents clearly didn’t have many guests visiting who measured over 5’8”.

“We can snuggle,” Hal replied.

“With those ribs?” Bruce asked, but conceded. The floor had never looked tempting, but it failed to even begin to measure up against a bed with Hal Jordan in it. 

“Unbelievable,” Hal muttered as Bruce slipped in beside him. The mattress was body-warm where he’d sprawled across it, and a touch too soft. It rolled them into the centre together, something Hal seemed eager to take advantage of. Wary of bruises, Bruce allowed himself to be nudged onto his back with Hal’s good side belly-down on him, head cupped into his shoulder.

Once settled, Hal let out a momentous sigh. “Nice.”

“I live to serve.”

“Well, that’s not true, but okay,” Hal said into his shirt. “You scared the fuck out of Clark.”

That’s not at all how Bruce remembered the situation, but it seemed cruel to contradict someone with a head injury. Also, Hal’s good arm seemed to be trying to wriggle between Bruce’s back and the mattress, and it was distracting.

“He thought you were going to produce kryptonite from some orifice and rip his stomach out his nose,” Hal continued. “You told him it wasn’t his fault, right?”

“Of course,” Bruce replied. “I told him it was yours.”

Hal huffed a laugh. “Actually, it’s yours, if anything.”

Bruce looked down at him. After a moment, Hal’s head rolled so their eyes met. There was amusement on his sleepy face. “You really shouldn’t’a started going out to fight gods and aliens in leather and kevlar. Or you shouldn’t have slept with me. One of those two things.”

“Guess which one I think it is.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’ve got regrets. Well, so do the rest of us, you’re not special. And, might I just add-”

“I’m not sure I could stop you.”

- you still ended up in bed with me right now.”

Bruce sighed through his nose, looking to the ceiling. “There’s only one spare bed.”

“You could have shared with Clark. It wouldn’t be the first time, right?” The tone was distinctly lascivious. Hal shouldn’t have had the blood content for that quite yet, but it proved his healing capacity if nothing else. Bruce felt an expression of distaste cross over his face, but doubted Hal could see it from his position.

“This is purely for practical reasons,” he said, like there was anything in his life he’d done out of practicality. And like he didn’t have an arm around Hal’s shoulders, curling him close. 

“Sure, pull the other one,” Hal said, “It’s got an alternate reality where we somehow managed to only ever fuck once on it.”

“The regret gets stronger every time you open your mouth.”

“As if.” To prove his point, Hal gave him a lazy grope. “Did you share those regrets with your-”

“Shh,” Bruce interrupted. He removed Hal’s hand, though not with any particular degree of firmness. 

The truth of the matter was that Bruce was not in the habit of lying to himself - he was firmly of the belief that that particular habit, more than any other, got one killed. And perhaps the best he could expect was dying in a manner of his own choosing, but if he got to pick, being surprised by something he’d willfully ignored was not the way he would go.

He’d known since that night that it was never something that he’d do just the once. Case in point: Hal Jordan wouldn’t let it happen that easily. 

He’d also known that it was a problem. A personal problem. One that didn’t start or end in the bedroom. That had also proven true.

In the quiet, Hal had settled. His breath was warm on the skin over Bruce’s heart.

“You feel so good,” he mumbled. “How do you always feel so good?”

Bruce had been wondering the same thing. He just held back tighter.

#batlantern #halbruce #hal jordan #bruce wayne #clark kent #dc #how many times did i CHANGE TENSE y'all #my fic #batman #green lantern #title from drown by martin garrix

[sweetsubharry]

hiiii, do u have any fic recommendation for highschool aus?

Hiya! 💕 yes I do! It’s one of my favourite classic aus :) Just as a warning! There’s 36 fics under the read more tag so it’s a longer style post! I hope you like these! and just in case no one reads it at the end I’ll say it up here too! Make sure you read the tags and stay safe!

I was also unsure if any set in hogwarts counted? or any with a/b/o elements so I left them out but if anyone wants those too just send in an ask :)

You Can be My Cliche by DreamWeaver14

Basically Lou and Hazza are best friends and Louis is jealous and overly protective... But it all works out in the end once Lou and Harry have movie night. SMUT

Free with You Tonight by sunniskies

Harry's 16 and sophomore, Louis is a senior and his best friend, but somehow Harry's not sure that's enough anymore.

Essentially, high school au fluff involving first kisses and Niall mixing bad drinks.

A Real Work of Art by lululawrence

“I don’t understand,” Liam said for probably the fiftieth time in ten minutes. “You have to explain again how this is a bad thing.”

“Leeeeyummm,” Harry whined into the phone as he leaned his head onto his desk. “I felt like this year was my year for getting his attention, you know? That senior year I would finally get Logan Thompson to realize I exist! But he’s in almost every single one of my classes, Li. How am I supposed to survive that?”

“Easily,” Liam answered, with the same matter of fact tone his voice always took when Harry was in one of his fits. “He doesn’t know you exist, so it shouldn’t be a problem. Right?”

Or the one where Harry calls on an old friend, the super popular Louis Tomlinson, to help him change his look to capture the heart of Logan. Things only mostly go as planned.

into another (another) serotonin overflow by mercutionotromeo

Harry wants this year to be different - wants it to be the year that he finally gets over this stupid crush. He’s going to uni, he needs to decide what he wants to do with his life.

Instead, he’s deciding what he wants to do to Louis Tomlinson.

Or: Sweet first time sex wherein Harry's adorably awkward, Louis is achingly cool, and Harry rides Louis wearing his jersey.

My love, he makes me feel like nobody else, nobody else by SilverShadow1

Harry was invited to a high school end-of-term party where he's ready to let loose, get drunk and perhaps regret his choices, or not.

OR

The one where Harry screams, 'Daddy!' at a party and what follows is the best night of his life.

Kiss me by carebearlarrie

Where Harry does a TikTok challenge and kisses his crush (Louis) ft. sweater paw Harry.

Because We Can by KrisStylinson

Harry's the bizzare new kid who likes flowers too much, Louis' the epitome of punk who's not as smooth as he seems. Those two things shouldn't mix as beautifully as they do.

A nice, long journey through Harry and Louis' intersecting lives, starting with the day they meet in high school—including meddling friends, a Styles-Tomlinson family Christmas, a first time, and a couple's holiday in Paris.

You're Still The One I Run To. by brooklynbis

Harry's favourite weather by a mile was snow. There was something about the cold flakes of snow that was just so peaceful. The few times he had experienced snow, everything just stopped for a few days.

There was one thing Harry hated about the snow, however. Having to try and get home in it.

________________________

AKA it snows and Harry and Louis get stranded at college. Fluff and lots of cuddling ensues.

Way to Your Heart by fallenflowercrowns

High school AU, where Louis is in a band and Harry likes to come to the rehearshals for no particular reason. Punk Louis with a lot of tattoos and everything. Shy Harry with an angel face and not many friends. Strangers to lovers. Quick sex in the rehearshals' room (just handjob or blowjob) Happy end.

Harry pines but is oblivious, Louis is a punk with a big heart, Ziam shag behind everyone's backs and Nick is actually not in love with Harry.

All I want for christmas is you by Tita

The one where Louis is a pining punk, Harry is the school’s sweetheart, and a miss sent text at a Christmas party turns out to be the best possible present.

Can I Walk Your Cute Face To Class by orphan_account

It's Harry's first day of High School and he's nervous. He meets Louis.

Or

They meet and they have lunch together but they don't actually eat anything. (and it's not because I forgot that's what people generally do during lunch.. not at all)

Touch by kotabear24

Harry's shy and virginal with a past, new on the football team; Louis' the (experienced) popular star of the team and Harry's new mentor.

All I Need is Oxygen (and You) by lululawrence

There are only two ways to navigate Bloomfield High School: become popular or make yourself invisible.

With the help of his best mate Niall, Harry’s introduction to high school hadn’t been half bad. Despite being a “bandie” – the lowest of the low in the ancient hierarchy of high school –Harry had somehow managed to survive freshman year relatively unscathed. So naturally, Harry would have been perfectly happy to resume his position of invisible trombone player number four for the remainder of high school. But one day something drastic happened, something that would change the course of Harry’s entire existence (probably).

It was the last football game of his freshman year, and the band was back in the stands after performing a rousing rendition of Bloomfield’s alma mater during half time. Harry was gracelessly wiping the slobber from the mouthpiece of his trombone when he saw him.

Louis Tomlinson.

Or...a High School AU where Harry is a bandie and Louis is the epitome of cool, so naturally, Harry must find a way to get his attention and win his affections.

I don't care where we go, just keep me close by Eversincefiveboys

Louis has to go on summer camp and he absolutely doesn't want to because he is 16 and too old for this. Then he meets the boy with the curls and the dimples and suddenly he doesn't want this camp to be over 

Maybe it's All Part of a Plan by promisingstyles

Christmas High School AU. Harry is sick, Louis talks way too much and much too fast. They meet in the toilets. 

I made a map of your stars by brightbluelou   

Harry does not have a crush on Louis Tomlinson. Yes, Louis is very pretty and funny, and Harry may have had more than a few inappropriate thoughts about him, but he certainly doesn’t like him. (Except for the fact that he totally does.) or, Harry is the shy boy in the back of the class that no one really notices. Louis is the loud, outgoing football player that everybody likes. 

All Part of the Plan by alwaysinmyheartlarry   

Harry Styles is a member of the marching band who has an insane crush on Louis Tomlinson--the amazing senior who plays on the varsity football team at school. 

We’re on Fire Now (And I Could Burn in it All Day) by orphan_account   

“Thanks, Harry.” His voice is as soft as silk when he replies and Harry is so tempted to kiss him there and then, but would feel too much like he is taking advantage of Louis’ vulnerability in that moment. “Now let’s bake some fucking cookies.” He removes his hand and Louis lets go of his wrist, laughing. “Hearing you swear is so wrong. It’s like an angel punching someone in the face. It just doesn’t fit.” Harry gasps in mock offense. “I’ll have you know I swear all the time. I’m a right rebel.” Louis laughs again, bright and beautiful, and Harry smiles down at him.

or

A shameless high school AU where Louis is a footballer, Harry is a photographer, Liam is blissfully unaware and Niall is his usual self.

first position, the mood is set by hiswittlehands

Louis bites down on his lip. "You...god, they look so good on you. Shows off your arse and your...your thighs, Haz." He runs his hand along the skin there then, relishing how soft and pliant it is even with all the muscle. "They shouldn't have even let you play. Should, should have sent you straight home for...fuck, indecency or breaking the dress code or summat."

Or, I literally have no idea what the fuck I just wrote but it involves dodgeball, short shorts, and thigh fucking.

(i didn't mean to) fall in love tonight by zouisclimax

Harry texts him back a thumbs up emoji before leaning forward and throwing up again. He groans, but stands after he’s done, wiping his mouth with toilet paper, and flushing the toilet.

He washes his mouth out as best as he can before steeling himself and heading back to class, trying his best not to cry. He tells himself that there is no point in worrying when he doesn’t even know if there is anything to worry about yet.

He still feels sick.

[or, the American boarding school AU where Harry's infatuated with Louis and one night flips his whole world upside-down]

falling for you, i can't keep away by hegotthedagger

Harry wants Louis really bad and Louis might want him just as much.

I see the love light in your eyes by larrycaring

For as long as Harry can remember, Louis has always been his best friend.

There are a few constant things in Harry’s life: his family, this town he’s grown up in, and Louis.

He had his other friends, of course, but Louis had always been and still was the person that Harry was closest to. Maybe it was due to the fact that they live next to each other, and that, since the first night they’d talked, when he and Louis shared a conversation on their conjoining roofs, they instantly hit off, and a friendship developed. Or maybe it was that Louis was always so cheeky, almost the opposite of Harry, but it complimented Harry’s slow and thoughtful way of life perfectly. Either way, it just kind of happened.

or an AU where Louis and Harry are very much in love. Featuring football & late night rendezvous.

Translation of the fic in spanish by @lachrimose_: click here (wattpad) In russian by Hewassixteen: click here (ficbook)

You Have Bewitched Me, Body and Soul, and I Love, I Love, I Love You by Storyofmythigh

Harry is quiet. Louis isn’t.

Louis hates reading. Harry loves words.

They find a way.

Don't Stop Thinking About Tomorrow by 1Diamondinthesun

Harry spends most of his time in an empty house or a lonely darkroom, dreaming of leaving his small town for art school. He's invisible to most people. And then Louis Tomlinson sees him. Life will never be the same.

Or, the American high school AU loosely inspired by She's All That.

Kiss me (this feels like falling in love) by Ambros

- Five times Louis wanted to kiss Harry (and one time he did).

In This Light by kiwikero

Harry gets a position on the school yearbook staff, which is fine until he falls in love with Louis Tomlinson through the lens of his camera.

❤ For Effort by FallingLikeThis 

When Harry Styles lets his team down during gym class, resulting everyone having to run laps, he expects the worst. But the backlash never comes.

Harry's crush, Louis Tomlinson, may or may not have something to do with that.

Last First Kiss by Kikacat

High School AU in which Harry is outed and can't work out why no one seems to care, whilst also dealing with his crush. Super supportive family and friends. Trigger warning for some of the social media comments Harry receives. If I've missed any tags, let me know

let me get your heart racing by orphan_account

Even asleep, Harry finds himself so hooked to this boy. It’s crazy. Months ago, Louis wouldn’t have noticed him. He’s just an ordinary guy, so that’s no surprise. And Louis... Louis is everything.

Harry leaves immediately.

or a highschool au where Harry's sure that Louis will never fall for him, and where he's also wrong.

i’d burn this city down to show you the light by you_explode

Harry's a sheltered rich kid and Louis's a punk with a heart of gold. They meet when Louis breaks into Harry's house, Harry obtains an instant and all-encompassing crush, and they spend the summer falling into a whirlwind romance.

put your head on my shoulder by wayfared

Niall gives Harry until the end of marching season to either a) make a move on Louis Tomlinson or b) get the fuck over him. Either is easier said than done. Basically, your High School AU with a drum beat.

My Only Sunshine by DontLetHimGo

Harry and Louis have known each other since the start of everything.

When Harry is only a few weeks old, and Louis is two, the older boy is immediately intrigued by the little person in the carry cot. Jay knows that it will be difficult to keep her son away from her best friend's little boy.

Completely unaware (you make me smile) by deblond

Five times everyone thinks that Harry and Louis are dating (and the one time they are).

it's kinda hot in here by ballsdeepinjesus 

“Is that a moth on your stomach?”

or nerdy harry is hiding some stuff under his dorky clothes and louis fucks him in a locker room

we should get jerseys, 'cause we make a good team by ellisaco

Harry's not very good at football, but he's aces at cheering Louis on.

Youth Meant to Be Beautiful by Turtles

Highschool AU, Louis is the footy captain and Harry is a cheerleader. Cliche ahoy!

every december (your star lights the sky) by larrystomlinsons

Louis needs a date for the Christmas dance and Harry is the wingman that has feelings for him.

The Birds Still Sing by orphan_account

The thing is, Louis thinks he already knows Harry's secret. He just doesn't know how to tell him he knows.

every december (your star lights the sky) by larrystomlinsons

Louis needs a date for the Christmas dance and Harry is the wingman that has feelings for him.

Stay safe and read the tags guys!! ❤

#larry stylinson #larry #larry fanfic rec #larry fic #larry fic rec #larry fanfiction #larry stylinson fanfiction #larry stylinson fic rec #fanfiction #bottom harry #top louis #Lottie fic rec #ask lots

[thepandapopo]

Promises - A Sylvix 2020 Holiday Fic

Summary:

When Felix learns that Sylvain has never had the chance to truly enjoy the Yule holiday (or any holiday for that matter), he makes it his personal mission to correct this injustice.

OR

Felix just really wants Sylvain to know that he's loved. What better way than to melt down his favorite sword into an engagement ring?

Posted for A Very Sylvix Holiday 2020

Warnings: N/A. Rated T for vague mentions of sex. 

Sylvain/Felix #Sylvix  Fluff | Proposals | Family/Found Family #sylvixholiday  4300 words https://archiveofourown.org/works/28086762  I hope y'all like my sylvix holiday oneshot! As usual kudos, likes, and RTs welcome :) I hope I can share a little joy with all of you this holiday.

It was no secret that Sylvain and Felix grew up together. In fact, it was something that the older boy liked to remind their mutual friends every chance he got how adorable little Fe used to follow him around like a lost duckling, clinging to him whenever something or the other inevitably made his eyes mist with tears.

But in all his years growing up with Sylvain, the full force of Sylvain’s absolute joy over the Yule holiday never really came up until the year after the war ended, only a few months into his official ‘move in’ to the Fraldarius castle and the freedom that came from saying a long overdue fuck you to Margrave Gautier, whom – Dimitri assured – was on the fast track to being unseated so that Sylvain could finally take over and begin peace talks with Sreng.

“You’re acting like you’ve never celebrated Yule before.” Felix deadpanned as he watched his boyfriend (and new housemate) string tinsel along the hallways, complete with a mistletoe at every door.

Instead of a reply, Sylvain merely stuck his tongue out at him in an eerily reminiscent way that made Felix’s head spin with memories of two younger children in days long past.

He never really got an answer as to Sylvain’s strange behavior.

The Yule holiday season came and went, and it was only halfway through the next year on a sleepy summer morning that Felix learned why in one of their rare early morning pillow talks.

“What do you mean your family didn’t celebrate holidays?”

A warm huff of breath tickled the hairs atop his head, “it’s exactly like it sounds, Fe. My family wasn’t exactly the type to sit around a dinner table and chat amicably. The only time we celebrated was when we were with company or if my father wanted to rub elbows with other nobles and sniff out a marriage candidate for me.”

Felix is very glad that his face is buried in Sylvain’s chest so that he can’t see the fury in his eyes or the way that his eyes scrunch against a familiar sting when the truth squeezes his heart in a death grip.

His arms must also tighten unconsciously because just as soon as Felix makes some absent calculations on how long it would take to ride to Gautier and castrate Sylvain’s father, the warm strong arms around him are pulling him in tighter in reciprocation and a large hand tangles itself into his unbound locks.

“It’s fine,” Sylvain mutters, lips moving in a whisper across Felix’s forehead. “After all, I’ve got you now, don’t I? Holidays are for spending time with family at home and you are my home, Fe.”

Well, fuck him three way to Ailell if the fool isn’t right. Sylvain’s home is with him, here in Fraldarius castle. Here in his room, in his bed, and in his arms.

And fuck it all even more if Felix doesn’t make every holiday from that day forth the best damn holiday Sylvain has ever had to make up for his lost childhood.

Which is exactly how Felix finds himself standing in front of the stall of his favourite blacksmith in Fhirdiad later that year on the first snowfall of the season.

(It is very important that he does not go to a blacksmith in Fraldarius for this particular task because Goddess forbid Sylvain catch wind of this secret order and bother him about it.)

The weight slung across his hip is a familiar one – the well worn scabbard an extension of his own body and the sword sheathed inside a friend that carried him through the war, but more importantly, also the savior of Sylvain’s life too many times to count.

It only seems appropriate that it continues to accompany them throughout their future together.

“Lord Fraldarius!” The blacksmith greets heartily when he ducks under the entrance flap. “Or should I say Your Grace, now?”

The heat is sweltering inside, but it is easily overshadowed by the thrill and excitement of seeing the wide assortment of sharp blades strewn about for display. But alas, that is not what Felix is here for and he cannot bring home any evidence of what he is up to.

“No need for formalities, Than. Just Felix is fine.”

“Well then, young master Felix, what can I do for you this day? Another sharpening? Or perhaps a new blade?”

It’s all very tempting, but that’s not the reason why Felix has laden his gold purse with a hefty sum before coming here today.

“Actually, I was hoping you would be able to take on a custom request for me…”

----

It takes exactly 53 days before Than finishes his order just in the nick of time when Sylvain and Felix travel to the Kingdom capital with an invitation from Dimitri to spend the holiday with him, Byleth, and basically every other friend from the war that he can send a missive to.

It’s easy enough for Felix to slip away to the blacksmith’s once again while Sylvain is busy catching up with Ashe who chatters non stop about the booming success of Dedue’s Duscur cuisine, much to the embarrassment of the quiet giant who looks like he is torn between wanting to change the subject and basking in the praise of his ‘close friend’ (Sylvain snorts at that one because anyone with eyes can see how smitten Dedue is with the archer and vice versa).

It’s even easier to conceal the little velvet box underneath the layers and layers of wool that protect him from the bitter winter winds that Faerghus is known for.

What isn’t easy, is dragging Dimitri and Annette away to tell them his intentions because the last-minute invitation from their King throws off his entire original plan.

“Oh Goddess! Felix, it’s beautiful.” Annette gushes and peers at the silver band nestled snugly within the ring box cushions.

He’s not too sure about beautiful – there are other things more fitting to the word, like the very man he wants to give this ring to – but he does know that it is breathtaking in its own simple way.

The silver shines brighter than any gem and catches the light no matter which way it is turned. Etched onto the surface of the band in delicate handiwork are swirling lines weaving the symbols of Fraldarius and Gautier together to become something wholly new, something wholly Sylvain and Felix.

“There’s more.”

Gently, Felix pulls the ring out to show his two soon-to-be accomplices the detailing on the inside.

“Don’t bend it,” Felix glares a warning at Dimitri as he places the ring on the outstretched palm of his king.

“I promise I will not,” Dimitri chuckles, but Felix can hear the nervousness buried underneath in a way that only an entire lifetime of friendship can uncover. Regardless, the boar does not close his hand or pick up the seemingly tiny ring dwarfed in his palm, choosing instead to rotate his whole hand so that him and Annette can peer at the graceful cursive inscribed on the inside.

In Life and Death

“I…” Felix swallows the lump of emotion in his throat before continuing quietly, “I had it made from the sword that I used throughout the war.”

Both of his friends gasp at his admission, the crackling fire in the hearth flickering shadows across their faces that twist their face into a deeper shade of shock.

“But Felix,” Annette chokes, “You loved that sword. It was your favourite sword.”

Beside her, Dimitri nods emphatically, “I believe the very words you had said were ‘I will take this sword to my grave’.”

“You carry it around everywhere whenever you travel.”

“Indeed. I have rarely seen you without the familiar scabbard by your side.”

“You literally visited the blacksmith every moon during the war to make sure the blade was upkept.”

“The number of late nights you’ve spent sharpening-“

“Enough.” Felix hisses at them. “I get it, already.”

It’s another heartbeat of silence before he can muster up the courage to verbalize the emotions that are currently running through him; that have always thrummed in his veins whenever Sylvain is by his side.

“It’s… it’s because of how important that sword was to me that I wanted to re-forge it into something that I could give to Sylvain.”

Golden eyes turn down to the floor and Felix has to fight the visceral urge to scuff his boots against the floor like a boy who was just caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Or in Felix’s case, with his hand on his father’s ceremonial swords mounted high above the fireplace, requiring both him and Glenn to even reach it.

“He still thinks I’m going to disappear someday and become a mercenary.”

It stings to say out loud, but it’s the truth and Felix will be damned if he ever becomes so much of a coward that he cannot even face the facts in front of him.

A shaggy lock of blonde hair falls from Dimitri’s half updo as he shakes his head. “I’m sure Sylvain doesn’t think that, Felix. You told him that you had decided against that and he believes you.”

But that’s not how Sylvain is. Felix knows that even if Sylvain tells him that he believes that Felix is here to stay, there will always be demons and ghosts lingering in the darkest corners of his mind, whispering poisonous words and you’re not worthy of love’s in his heart.

“He does, but I know him. He’s still scared; I want to give him this to prove that our promise is more than just dying together.” It is more. It is so much more. “It’s… it’s about living together, too.”

Felix does not elaborate further because he doesn’t need to. Despite Dimitri technically being his oldest friend, Sylvain was always his closest and it is no secret that Felix would fight a hundred wars just to see him happy. In fact, fighting to rebuild a world where crests no longer ruled over everyday life was one of the biggest reasons why he had fought to begin with.

He wanted to build a world where Sylvain was free to be… just Sylvain.

Turns out fighting an entire imperial army and a whole legion of crazy cultists is a lot easier than arguing with Sylvain’s demons.

“Oh Felix,” Annette sighs wistfully, “He’s going to love it.”

Felix certainly hopes so, because if he doesn’t, Felix is not only down one extremely well crafted blade, but more importantly it proves that maybe Felix doesn’t know Sylvain as well as he thinks he does.

Dimitri nods his assent, “It suits you both. Even if he didn’t, which I find impossible, he will love it simply because it is coming from you, Felix.”

If his self discipline was ever in question, it is long cleared based solely on the fact that Felix is still standing here under the awed gazes of his king and irritatingly fond friend despite how much every vein in his body screams at him to run literally anywhere else, just to get away from their scrutiny and out of the limelight. But his purpose in dragging Dimitri and Annette away is twofold and he has merely completed the first part of his goal, leaving the second most important bit still hanging in the air.

Taking a deep breath, Felix fills himself with the same steely determination that he brings whenever he steps on the battlefield.

“I’m going to need your help.”

----

Felix hates balls. But Sylvain likes them, and Felix likes making Sylvain happy so somehow Felix always ends up going to them.

Will you dance with me, Fe? Sylvain always asks with that stupidly blinding smile that makes Felix’s heart feel three times too small for the amount of love he feels for the man. And even though he wants to say no, there isn’t an ounce of will in him to actively go against something that clearly means so much to Sylvain.

Each time without fail Felix ends up being twirled around on the dancefloor to the lilting notes of a waltz – or maybe it’s the quickstep? Not that it matters since Sylvain’s leading is graceful enough that even Felix can keep up.

Which is exactly what he banks on.

“Come on, Fe! You owe me a dance still.” Sylvain tugs the flute of champagne from his hand, slipping his own calloused fingers through Felix’s and drawing him gently towards the open floor.

In the sea of Faerghus blues and whites, Sylvain cuts through the slowly diminishing crowd of the Yule ball like the blazing dawn of a new day tugging Felix along by his heartstrings.

He must make a face, because soon enough he’s being bombarded with pouty honey browns and Felix is drowning and completely at the mercy of the man before him.

“Just one.” Felix huffs. He has to put on a show of his usual reluctance after all. Otherwise Sylvain will start to become suspicious.

Sylvain winks like he’s in on a big secret, “just one.”

(They both know it won’t be just one.)

From across the room, Felix nods subtly to Dimitri who is following them with watchful eyes, and immediately, the King disappears to put into motion their grand master plan. If all goes well, Annette should also be on the move rounding up all their friends and entreating the small string quartet to play a half dozen more songs, just enough for the remaining stragglers to retire for the night at the encouragement and behest of Dimitri, before ending the evening with one final song request.

Felix barely has enough time to quickly run through the rest of his plan in his head before warm hands circle his waist and tug him closer into a lungful of citrusy bergamot and earthy pine.

The weight of the small box in his pocket is heavy, but the way Sylvain’s eyes melt into warm chocolate and the encompassing warmth of belonging make Felix feel like he’s walking on air. The world falls away to nothing around them and Felix knows with a surety borne from walking alongside this man for his whole life, that Sylvain is also here in this moment with him.

I love you.

I want to spend the rest of my life with you.

I never want you to feel lonely ever again.

His heart is pounding but Felix does not know if it’s from nerves or from the suddenly overwhelming need to let Sylvain know just how much he is loved.

Steps flow into more steps, and yet it feels like no time at all passes before the world comes back into focus as the first lilting notes of Felix’s requested song (communicated by virtue of Annie) fill the room.

As planned, the hall is almost entirely empty now save for their close friends who loiter around the sides. A flash of bright orange in his periphery tells Felix that Annette is busy running proxy and filling their companions in on the plan.

Goddess knows what Dimitri is up to. Though Felix has a sinking suspicion that the stupidly soft-hearted boar is probably sniffing away happy tears somewhere behind a glass of sparkling cider.

The music swells and that is Felix’s cue.

“Sylvain.” He doesn’t dare speak any louder, lest he break the spell that they are under.

Hazy brown eyes focus slightly, even as Sylvain gives a distracted hum in response.

“I…” Goddess, why are words so hard? “I… I know that you never got to enjoy Yule or any other holiday really when you were growing up.”

“Hm?” Now he has Sylvain’s full attention. “Felix, are you still thinking about what I told you in the summer? It’s fine. Really. I have you now and that’s all that matters.”

“But it’s not okay,” Felix grouses out, still dancing. “It’s not okay that you were robbed of happiness so early in your life. It’s not okay that you never understood what it was like to be loved until we basically beat it into your thick skull at the academy.”

Insulting Sylvain is definitely not how Felix wants this to go, but he relaxes a little when Sylvain merely laughs, “that’s one way to tell me you love me, Fe.”

“I do.” Felix says, almost defiantly as he raises his gaze to meet Sylvain’s stunned one. “I love you more than you know and more than you believe, and it’s because I love you that I promise that I will make up for all those years that you should have been happy – I’ll make every year better than the last.”

It must look so odd, Felix thinks, how the more determined and steelier his face gets, the sappier and lovestruck Sylvain’s expression becomes.

“Fe,” Sylvain’s breath washes over Felix’s face as he presses a soft kiss to his lips. “You already make me so happy. Everyday with you is worth everything I’ve gone through and more. I truly… I truly don’t deserve you.” When Sylvain pulls away, there is a sad smile tugging at his face and a distant part of Felix wants to smack it right off.

“You do deserve me.” Felix snaps. The music is slowly dying away now and his voice comes out louder in the growing silence of the hall than he intends, but his heart is beating a mile a minute and there’s no stopping now, and so Felix decides to hurl himself headlong into the deep end.

“You deserve so much, Sylvain. So much more than I can give you, but I’ll be damned if I don’t at least try.” Felix pulls them to a stop in the middle of the dance floor and gathers both of Sylvain’s much larger ones in his.

He doesn’t dare look up at the love of his life, but their lives are so entwined that Felix can picture with crystal clarity the look of growing confusion and wide eyes that is surely adorning Sylvain’s expression.

“Sylvain Jose Gautier.” Felix likes the way the name rolls off his tongue, but he would like it even better if there was another name added to the end. “You are the biggest fool I’ve ever met. You throw yourself into danger to protect those that you love, yet you never consider yourself worthy of love in return.”

Felix builds enough courage now to look up at Sylvain to see the startled wild confusion grow in his eyes.

Eyes that widen even further as Felix sinks down to one knee with his hands still cradled in Felix’s left, as his right reaches into his coat pocket to pull out a simple velvet box.

“I know,” Felix swallows the lump in his throat and tightens his grip on Sylvain’s hands which are now physically trembling, “I know that you’ve never thought that you would be happy. That you deserved to be happy. But I want to prove you wrong.”

There are tears running down Sylvain’s face now as his mind finally puts the pieces together and the reality of the situation fully dawns upon him.

“I never want you to feel like you aren’t loved ever again. I never want you to feel lonely or like there is no one out there who has your back. I never want you to feel like your life is conditional and that you have to cripple who you are just to be accepted.”

Goddess. Sylvain truly is an ugly crier. Blast him for looking so handsome anyways even with his nose scrunched up and fat crocodile tears leaking from the corners of his eyes.

“I love you, Sylvain, and I want to spend the rest of our lives proving it to you, so will you marry me?”

The beat after the metaphorical ball drops is painfully long, but when time resumes again, Sylvain’s knees buckle beneath him and he collapses in a sobbing heap, his body leaning into Felix like he is touch starved and Felix holds the warmth of home in his arms.

“You-“ Sylvain’s voice is hoarse as he chokes the words out through his tears, “You… want to marry me? Marry me?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to.”

(Across the room, Dimitri has to hold Ingrid back from throwing a cup at Felix’s head)

“But, it’s me! Felix, I’m a mess. How could you ever want someone as broken as me?” There is desperation in Sylvain’s eyes, but it is wild, like Sylvain himself doesn’t know if he’s desperate for Felix to just take this last out he’s providing or to reassure him that yes, this is really happening and yes, Felix really wants to marry him.

“You idiot.” Felix huffs fondly, reaching up a pale scarred hand to gently thumb away the nonstop tears on Sylvain’s face. “I’ve wanted you since we were children. I will never stop wanting you. You might be a mess, but you’re my mess.”

Felix withdraws his grip slowly and finally opens the velvet box clutched in his hand. He doesn’t hear so much as feel the sharp inhale from Sylvain as he reveals the glittering silver ring nestled in the soft cushion.

“Do you remember the sword that I carried with me throughout the war?”

Sylvain scrubs his eyes and nods, “Yeah. I remember. Why? What happened-“

Brown eyes widen almost comically again and Sylvain stares at the ring with his mouth agape.

“Felix. Felix, don’t tell me…”

“If this doesn’t prove how serious I am, then I don’t know what will.”

“But Felix, you loved that sword.”

Felix doesn’t even pause to think before he retorts, “You truly are a fool if you think that I love a sword more than I love you.”

Felix does not expect for Sylvain to burst into sobs again, but rather than the irritation that he’s sure he would have felt under different circumstances, the only thing Felix can feel right now is warmth and love blooming in his chest.

“Sylvain,” Felix feels a small smile tug at the corner of his lips as he brings his hand up to frame Sylvain’s tearful face, “will you marry me?”

The crooked wobbly smile that graces Sylvain’s face next is one that Felix will remember for the rest of his life. It is the same one that he’s seen only a handful of times, but he knows what it means and Felix swears that he will dedicate the rest of his life finding ways to silence the demons and bring out that smile again and again and again.

“Yes.”

----

Neither of them remembers much of the celebration after Felix slips the ring on Sylvain’s finger.

The rest of the night passes in a blur of bottles upon bottles of champagne (the good stuff, according to Ashe who may have had a peek in the cellars) and laughter and congratulations.

But most importantly, it passes with Sylvain being surrounded by the people who have risked life and limb for him, and Felix hopes that this is at least a decent start to spending the rest of his life making his future husband happy.

---

It is only much later that night in the aftermath of rumpled sheets and whispers of pleasure that Felix succumbs to the incessant voice at the back of his mind, itching to ask what he already knows but wants reassurance of anyways.

“Did you… was this Yule better than last year?” His breath ghosts over the red hairs on Sylvain’s chest, stirring the owner to shift away ticklish and shuffle so that he can look down at his fiancé.

“Yeah, it was. It was absolutely wonderful.” Sylvain’s voice is quiet when he answers. Quiet enough that the sincerity of it strikes Felix through the heart and stirs the butterflies in his stomach. Above him, he can feel Sylvain’s muscles shifting as he examines his new engagement ring in the moonlight and Felix pointedly does not point out the fresh batch of tears that well up in Sylvain’s eyes when he finds the inscription carved on the inside.

Felix nods his head once in a jerky movement, the abruptness a stark contrast to the curl of satisfactory success blooming in his gut. Good. That’s one year down and an entire lifetime to go.

“I keep my promises, you know.”

He doesn’t need to say it, but the part of him that is finely tuned into the entity that is Sylvain tells him that these are words he needs to hear regardless of how difficult they are tripping up and out of his mouth.

“I promised that I would make up for all those shitty years that you never got to celebrate properly.”

Sylvain huffs a laugh into his hair, “well, you’re off to a strong start. I believe you also promised me that you would make each year better than the last.”

He’s teasing, but Felix hears the small sliver of shy hope that toes the open space between them timidly, almost as if the fool didn’t just hear him say that he keeps all his damn promises.

It will be a long and hard battle before Felix can officially claim victory over Sylvain’s doubts, but he’s no stranger to war and this is one that he already knows the outcome of.

“I will,” Felix whispers into a sweet kiss, “I promised.”

---

It comes as no surprise that Felix stays true to his word.

Either Felix is the most brilliant strategist in all of Fodlan or Sothis herself watches over them, for in a fortuitous twist of fate, the next Yule seasons brings Sylvain and Felix a beautiful baby girl that they lovingly name Sophia Gabriella Fraldarius-Gautier.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX Please follow me on my Twitter if you want to know my fic progress, when I put up new content, and sneak peeks!

#A Very Sylvix Holiday #sylvix #Fire Emblem Three Houses #fire emblem #fire emblem 3 houses #sylvain jose gautier #felix hugo fraldarius #felix x sylvain #SOFT FELIX #emotional sylvain #proposals #found family #holiday fic #fluffy goodness #popo writes #sophia gabriella fraldarius gautier #Sophie AU

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, notquiteascrazy!

For @notquiteascrazy​. I hope you'll enjoy it Lex, I tried to stick to your likes as much as I could!!! Merry Xmas, darling!

Read On AO3

*****

The air was thick with snow and the smell of roasted chestnuts and marshmallows, and Alec was staring out from the window of the subway that was taking him home.

He sighed in relief thinking about the fact that at least for the Christmas week, he had a job. At least he wouldn't be forced to stay home alone, drinking a beer and eating a microwave heated pizza, and thinking.

He couldn't go home, not this festivities, not after having left his family business shoving his car and house keys on his father’s desk, shouting that the price was too high for his mental health, seeing all his family's eyes widen in disbelief, because Alec had never said no to anything. Never a quarrel, never an argument, never a sign of disappointment. Anything.

He had endured through high school and university, studying something that made his stomach twitch in disgust still he brought home the best grades, the best results, the best graduation a parent could have ever asked for.

But working more than twelve hours per day for it? It soon became too much to bear.

After two years of sleepless nights, pills, too much coffee, and the beginning of panic attacks, he'd decided to quit and leave that horrible life he crazily had thought he could force himself into.

Sometimes he would say to himself that maybe he hadn't tried hard enough, that maybe if he'd resisted a couple of months more, it would have become a routine, but he was aware that that could have never happened.

Alec hated numbers with all his heart, since he was a kid and that really wouldn't do in his family. For centuries, the Lightwoods held a huge business accountant studio that worked with the most outstanding industries, firms of the country, and even some others abroad. He was the eldest, he was supposed to be the heir. But he wasn't. He'd never been, and he never would be.

Izzy, she was the right one. Strong, sharp, determined, assertive and good enough to bring the best out for the family business. She was, and Alec loved her so much. He loved her fierce steps along the corridor when she was angry at someone, the way her voice turned sharp and hard on the phone when she discovered something she didn't like, the way her decisions were quick and always right.

He, instead, had always loved crayons and pencils. He loved the feeling of wood between his fingers, the smell of paper whenever he bought a new sketchbook, the rustling sound of his sleeve or his arm when it slid on the paper, and the brush of the pencil lead as it traced lines that gave life to the images that filled his head.

He wanted to become an artist, to go to an art school and then to an academy of arts, but he never had the courage to ask, never dared to hope, Alec ended up letting the days flow by until it was too late.

So there he was now, living alone in a one-room apartment in the outskirts, shifting from one temporary job to another. Apparently, he was "too much" for every position he applied for.

Too qualified, too experienced, too well paid, too grown up, too tall, too clumsy, too smart, too handsome, too… everything.

Izzy and Jace promised him they would come to visit during the holidays, but Alec knew that his family’s Christmas celebrations were something that they couldn't escape from that easily, with relatives, colleagues and business partners coming from all over the place and staying there until the late hours.

He dropped off the subway and walked home, grabbing a kebab along the way.

He switched on the kettle and slumped on the small couch he opened to sleep in at night, covering his legs with a blanket, patiently waiting for the little electric stove to heat the small room, picking up his phone and texting his siblings he had found a job for the Christmas’ month.

He stood and grabbed the kettle, pouring the boiling water into a mug filled with tea leaves, letting the steam soothe his icy red nose and warm him up. He looked outside the small window at the snow silently falling on the buildings.

He opened the bed and threw himself on it, still clothed. He took his sketchbook and started drawing, staring at his hand gently swaying on it, until he fell asleep, his head dropped on one side of the pillow, his hand clutching the pencil, as the Christmas lights and decorations glimmered on his black locks.

Magnus strolled into his office, his eyes shadowed, his beard a little longer than usual, his tie hanging loose around his neck, as if he hadn't the time to fix it properly.

"Are you ok?" Raphael asked him, a worried look on his face.

"Yes. No. I'm definitely not. It's been the worst night I had in years. Max has thrown up six times to the point his face turned green and I spent the night on the phone with Cat trying to figure out how to stop it and making him drink small sips of water, so he wouldn’t be dehydrated. I'm... fuck , I need another coffee, Raphael," he stopped and crashed on the huge armchair behind his long desk.

Raphael went to the coffee pot and filled a cup, putting some cream in it.

"You could have taken the day off you know? You're the boss here. No one is checking if you come to work or not."

"Are you insane?" Magnus glared at him as he sipped his coffee, it's December, the mall is going to be full and I have to check everything and I … I…"

"You don't want to be alone, I know."

Magnus' expression turned sad and distant. He sighed deeply, staring into the void.

"Probably not," he added, "Anyway, let's get back to work, is everything fixed? The extra decorations, the elves, the little presents for the kids coming and...oh my god, Santa? Have you found him?"

Raphael nodded smiling.

"Your kind of guy to be honest, dark, tall and handsome."

"Ah, stop this Raphael. He's gonna be dressed in a Santa costume, a huge pillow on his belly and a white long beard. Also…you should know that Mr. no one  has become my favourite kind of guy."

"If you say so,"  he smirked.

Magnus stood up and left the cup on his desk, waving his hands in the air, dismissing whatever Raphael wanted to argue back.

"Anyway, let's go and see the elves, I'm curious," and he opened the door, gesturing to Raphael to follow him.

Alec woke up earlier than usual, waiting like twenty minutes for the water to warm and finally shower.

He knotted the towel low on his waist, cursing the cold wind that crawled from underneath the gaps in the window’s frames and went to the sink, grabbing his razor to shave. He stared at his image in the mirror. Why was he even shaving? He was about to wear a long white beard for a week. He brushed his knuckles on his stubble and smiled. It looked good on him. His father never wanted him to grow a beard. He used to say it made him look scruffy and that wouldn't go over well with their clients and partners. But now, who cared anymore? He put the razor back in the drawer and went to the stove to make some coffee. He dressed up slowly,  and ate some toast, while chatting with Jace.

The subway was full of people going to work, some of them dressed in their grey and black suits and he felt relieved; he didn't miss that life at all. He took his sketchbook from his backpack and started portraying their faces, the worried and the sad ones, the abandoned lover and the happy newly wedded one. All of them in their morning run to face the day.

The receptionist stopped him as soon as he entered.

"I'm Alec Lightwood, ehm, Santa Claus…"

"Oh, yes Mr. Lightwood, you're a little early, but since you are already here you can go to the locker room and change. Here's your costume."

She was staring at him, a goofy smile on her face. As he walked away he heard her murmur to the other lady next to her that it was a pity to cover all that glory with a Santa's costume.

He chuckled and took the elevator.

The pillow on his belly was soft but huge and it made him uncomfortably hot, and the faint beard itched a bit on his neck. He wore the heavy boots and realized he was already covered in sweat. It was going to be a very long month.

He entered the Children's Land and spotted the man who interviewed him last week. He was standing next to the most enchanting creature Alec had ever laid his eyes on. He stood frozen in the middle of the large hall of the toy shop, just staring, until Raphael noticed him.

"Oh, there you are! Magnus, he's our Santa Claus," he said and pulled Magnus from his wrist toward the tall red and white figure.

"Alec? Oh, can I call you Alec, right? This is Magnus, the real boss here."

Alec was glad to be disguised when Magnus fully turned to look at him. The man was strikingly beautiful, probably just a little older than he was.

He extended his hand and Magnus mirrored him, shaking it for a split second that to Alec seemed like an eternity.

"Strong grip," Magnus said smiling, "perfect for Santa. Also, your height is just perfect. Let me hear your voice, have you practiced lowering it a bit?"

Alec nodded and was about to let him hear his best Ho Ho Ho , when Magnus' phone rang.

"Cat? How is Max feeling? Better? Oh, thank god, he needed some good sleep. Any fever? No? That's good."

Alec knew he shouldn't have been listening, but he just couldn't help it.

Of course he was married. Of course he had a kid and a beautiful wife waiting for him at home.

He was jolted out of his thoughts when Raphael suddenly asked him to follow him toward the big wooden sleigh they had put on the right end corner of the shop.

"This will be your place. You will have a big jute sack behind where you’ll put the letters and a basket full of candies and lollipops for the kids after they have told you their wishes."

Alec listened and nodded.

"Can I make a little drawing for them? Just a sketch of their name or favourite hero?" he asked.

Raphael looked at him amused.

"You can draw?"

"Yes, I'll be quick, I promise."

"Of course you can Alec. It will be an amazing surprise for all of them."

Alec turned and saw Magnus talking to his kid on the phone. His face was soft and he was smiling as if the child could see him. His mind went back to an image of a younger Robert smiling at him. He felt a rush of longing for those days when he was exactly the son their parents had dreamed of. Responsible, always on track, confident, always in the right place at the right moment.

While they were happy, he was overwhelmed. The more they grew proud, the more he was ashamed of himself. The longer they seemed sure of who he was, the further he didn't even know where to begin.

He spun and found Raphael looking at him, brows up to his forehead.

Fuck! He realized he had been staring at what was technically his boss.

He scratched his fingers on the back of his neck trying to think about something good to say and justify his weird behaviour.

"Ahm… he's good with children...not many men are … ehm… it's kinda rare I mean…"

Raphael delighted in the embarrassment he glimpsed in the young man in front of him, and waited amused until Alec fell silent with a frustrated grunt.

Raphael took pity on him and finally laughed, wholeheartedly.

"Yeah, he is.  They love him before he even starts to speak and he can convince them to do whatever he asks. They're kinda spellbound ."

"Yeah I know the feeling."

Alec’s cheeks reddened a bit and he closed his eyes cursing himself for talking without filters, realizing what comment had just left his mouth.

"I mean," he tried, "I know the feeling of being spellbound."

Raphael turned around a little  smirking, “Yeah, he has this effect on everyone he meets."

Alec walked toward the sleigh, checked the basket filled with sweets and sat down, adjusting the pillow on his belly and stretching his legs. He knew they would be bent until late that afternoon. He was glad he hadn’t shaved that morning, otherwise, his pale and delicate skin would have been scratchy in the evening.

He took his sketchbook from his backpack and the crayons, the beautiful watercolour ones that he received on his last birthday from Izzy and Jace, and set them on his left side.

Raphael instructed a couple of photographers where to position the cameras and searched for Magnus again, leaving the last decision up to him. He was the best organizer but he really lacked any sense of aesthetics, which, instead, Magnus was overflowing with. The man was fixing the red berry and frosted pine cone garland on the railing of the stairs, fully concentrated on the task.

"Magnus? Have a look here," he said, "our Santa's sleigh is ready. Just waiting for your last touch.”

Magnus revolved toward the voice and stared for a moment at Alec and the setting, his gaze so intense that Alec felt the urge to divert his eyes. Magnus moved slowly toward the sleigh, bending near the footboards to fix the fake snowflakes and the pine branches.

His movements were slow and graceful, the back of his neck was flexing sinuously following the motion of his hands and fingers, and Alec couldn't keep from staring. His nails were painted in a dark green polish, matching the colour of the spikes in his faux hawk. He was elegant and extremely professional, but there was something sensual too in his overall outfit.

His eyes were stuck to Magnus' fingers that were now fixing the red velvet cloth and cushions on the sled.

"You like the color of the polish or my rings?" Magnus asked abruptly without turning his head and Alec rolled his eyes, because of course he wasn’t able to do anything without being noticed.

He didn't know what to say because, honestly, he liked them both, a lot.

Magnus must have realized his embarrassment because he resumed his talk without even looking at him.

"I picked the dark green this morning because it matches the beautiful colour of the pine needles and also because it matches perfectly with the burgundy red suit I am wearing. The rings...well, they are just a sort of second skin, I never remove them, not even when I sleep or shower."

Alec remained still and silent, lost in Magnus' voice.

"I don't bite, you know. You're allowed to answer or say something," Magnus added seriously, just before bursting into the softest laughter Alec had ever heard, "I'm just teasing you, I was joking."

Alec smiled behind the white soft beard, "Both, I like them both," he whispered.

Magnus stopped his movements and finally raised his head to look at him. He was kneeled on one leg, looking at those hazel big eyes standing out from the furry grey brows. They shined like two emerald gems.

Magnus then stood up and leaned toward Alec, grabbing his white fluffy collar and adjusting it around his neck, next his palms swept over his shoulders and tugged at the fabric a little, to make it adhere to Alec's shoulders. They were broad and straight. The last touch was reserved for his hat. He fixed the pom-pom and then his fingers curled up the mustaches above Alec's lips.

He cocked his head and took a moment to check what he had just done, "Now you're perfect, the perfect Santa. Raphael is the best at making real what I have in mind."

"Raphael knows so well what the boss likes," a voice replied.

"He's right," Magnus said to Alec smirking, "he knows me so well. Ok now. I know he already told you what this whole Santa's thing is about, but I will remind you anyway. Kids will queue here, you will take them on your lap and have a little chat, then ask them for a wish, pick up a candy, and offer them to take a picture with you. Remember the pictures are for free, it's  just for the joy of the kids, and…"

"And while they are waiting for the print I will make them a little sketch."

Magnus frowned.

"Raphael told me I could. I'll be quick, I promise."

"You draw?" Magnus asked.

"Yes."

"As long as you don't make the people wait too long, I think it's a wonderful idea. Keep the last one for me, ok?"

Magnus turned to Raphael.

"Let the kids come. We're ready for the magic to happen."

Alec's first week flew by quicker than he had imagined. He enjoyed talking to the kids and smiled at the incredible, sweet, improbable desires they shared with him. He gave them the sweets and a quick sketch; an animal, a toy, a star, a word, something he made just for them.

Raphael was amazed by how quickly Alec actually sketched. The queue was flowing regularly and no clients complained about waiting too long. Their Santa smiled and laughed with the kids and he didn't seem to become annoyed or bored.

Alec always listened with the same attention, always gave the children space and time to talk, enjoyed their sense of wonder, comforted the sad ones, knew how to deal with tantrums and tears, and never missed to give an encouraging smile to the parents waiting.

In that week, he fell asleep happily after such a long time.

Working at the mall turned out to be very exciting and interesting. Alec had always been fond of people, even if he wasn't very talkative and extroverted. He mostly loved to observe them, the quick glances between the ones in love, the farewell and welcome embraces, the arguments and the tears, the gazes lost in nowhere, the grandparents holding the hands of the kids, and of course, the kisses.

In the days he spent there, especially at the times his shift started and finished, when the mall was emptying, he loved watching Magnus interact with his employees. He was struck by how different Magnus was from his father.  

Magnus was always the first to arrive and the last one to leave, he always had a smile for everyone, he paid attention to all their needs, and always found the right words to say, supportive, encouraging, and caring. He brought coffee and sweets, he offered them lunch and then sat eating with them, laughing and having fun, and whenever he could, he would help them.

There was something in that man that had Alec yearning for his presence whenever he wasn’t around, that had him staring at him when Magnus wasn’t noticing, admiring him. He was beautiful inside and out.

"His wife must be so happy," he absentmindedly said to a cleaner one night as he was helping him pull up all the trash bags. Wei was the oldest one at the mall, and Alec had become his friend. He loved to listen to his stories and his memories, and got his fill of wisdom every day. Alec opened up to him like a father, sharing his personal life, his dreams and his sorrows. He remained with him long after his Santa’s duty was over, listened and helped along the way.

"Who?" said the man.

"Mr. Bane."

Wei stopped moving and cleaning, putting his mop on the floor, smiling at Alec.

"Magnus?"

Alec looked at the old man and smiled, hoisting up two other bags.

"Yes, Magnus."

The man looked back at him, pensively, and then talked.

"Magnus isn't married, and never has been. If you are referring to the fact that he has a child, I will tell you a story worthy of this time of the year. Tea first," and he went to the counter of the locker room and poured some in two cups, handing one to Alec.

"Three years ago, Anne, a young girl that worked at the bookstore, died unexpectedly in a car accident. She was the mother of a two-year-old boy, named Max. When Magnus heard that the social services were searching for a place for Max to stay for the night, he offered to take him home with him, and never left him since then. He applied for adoption, since he was the closest thing to family for that girl and her boy and since he was raised in foster care…"

The man looked at Alec, an unreadable expression on his face, something between awe and seriousness.

"I hope you'll have the chance to know him better, Alec. Magnus is one of the kindest souls that tread on this earth. He's caring, gentle, soft, selfless, he holds a special place in his heart for each of us. He knows all our histories, he never misses a birthday or an anniversary, he covers our shifts when we need a day off and no one can replace us. He's so incredible, that he's almost unreal."

He stood up and took the mop again, "I have noticed the way you look at him."

Alec swallowed, his cheeks getting crimson, "I… I don't…"

"There's nothing to be ashamed of, he doesn't deserve to be alone," and he bent to grab some empty bottles.

"Leave that to me," Alec said and was quickly on his knees to collect them.

"You're just as kind as he is," Wei said and threw some paper cups in the bin.

Alec remained with him, and they talked until Wei had finished cleaning.

"Your dad will understand sooner or later," he said putting his coat and scarf on.

"He might, but he'll never forgive me," Alec sighed.

"He will understand one day that there's nothing to forgive Alec, you don't have to apologize to anyone for giving voice to your true self, he will understand, believe me. Just give him time."

Alec nodded as they went outside and decided to take a walk. He looked up at the grey thick sky, thinking about Magnus.

He opened his drawing book and checked all the sketches and portraits he'd made of Magnus while he wasn't watching. It would have been really nice to know him better, but December was almost over and he did not even have the chance to present himself.

He exhaled. In another life, maybe.

On his part, Magnus realized he was always finding an excuse to go to the children's store. There was something in that Santa that drew him closer, even if he had never seen his face. The way he moved, his soft, tender voice, the way he got lost in his drawing, and the way he answered the kids. Raphael always made jokes about the fact that he should go to the locker room and have a closer look at the man, but Magnus always dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

As Christmas approached, Alec noticed that Magnus was often around and he never missed the chance to draw him on many different occasions.

“You should show him," he heard Raphael say behind his back as he peeked at the sketch Alec had just made of Magnus standing beside one of the Xmas trees of the mall, sipping from a coffee cup, absorbed in reading, his brows furrowed, his lips curled in concentration.

Alec suddenly felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him.

"Magnus loves beautiful things, and your portrait is amazing, you really should," Raphael stated as he walked away.

Alec closed his sketchbook when a loud thud tore him out of his thoughts. He rushed and found a crying kid on the floor, his knees up to his chin, a thin rivulet of blood on his wrist.

Alec knelt beside him, his voice soft and tender, "Hey, it's all right, I'm here. Can I have a look at your wrist?"

The boy raised his head and found Santa Claus kneeling beside him, asking him to have a look at his injury. He looked around confused, not really knowing what to do, until his eyes rested on another man standing behind his back.

"I'd let him if I were you, his touch might be magical."

Alec looked up and saw Magnus looking at him, gently nodding, encouraging him to go on. So he took the boy's hand and lifted his wrist to have a look at it; then he took out two small packages from his right pocket. He showed them to the kid.

"What's your name?" he asked softly.

"Tom," the boy whispered.

"Okay, Tom. Now I will wipe your wound and disinfect it, it won't burn or hurt, I promise. Then I am going to put a magical Santa patch on it, how does this sound? Will you pick up the drawing while I clean it?"

"Mr. Bane…" Alec started only to stop when Magnus stepped in.

"Magnus." Magnus corrected.

"Magnus can help you pick one, if that's all right?"

The boy smiled and nodded.

Alec passed the small box to Magnus and for a moment their eyes locked. Magnus smiled at him, wide and open, and his gaze softened as their fingers softly brushed, and Alec felt something cracking inside of him, like an egg breaking to let a new life peek through.

He made quick work of the little wound, covering it with a candy cane-shaped patch.

"Now,” he added, “since you have been really brave, why don’t you follow me to pick some candies out from my basket near the sleigh?"

"And I will go and search for your parents," Magnus added, "remain here with Santa."

Later that evening, he was putting his black coat on ready to go home when he heard someone coming.

"Who are you?" Magnus asked, looking surprised at the handsome man standing outside the locker room.

Alec turned and saw him, he seemed almost in a rush. He was about to answer, but he realized he couldn't breathe.

“You don’t look like a thief, so, care to tell me who you are?”

"I’m Santa. I mean, the guy dressed as Santa. My name is Alec," his voice came out barely a whisper.

"Pardon?" Magnus asked him, almost not believing he had heard well.

Alec swallowed as he felt those chocolate eyes scanning him from his feet to the last of his black locks.

Magnus blinked as his heart skipped a beat. Damn Raphael, he was right.

They both remained silent as the veil was raised, staring at each other as their hearts were fluttering.

Finally, Magnus extended his hand to him, "Actually I was searching just for you."

Alec grabbed his hand and squeezed it, his grip strong and certain, "Why?"

"I wanted to thank you for today. The way you acted with that boy…,"

"It was nothing...”

"You turned a bad event into an amazing one, one he will remember for all his life. Plus, you didn't have to, and you did anyway. This says a lot about the kind of person you are, and I never take such things for granted."

Alec was still holding his hand, stuck in a sort of trance. When he realized that, he retracted his palm, "I'm sorry, I need to go…, my sister is waiting for me outside…,"

Magnus nodded.

Alec adjusted the scarf around his neck and moved toward the exit.

"Ah, Alec? We are having a small Christmas party on the 24th, after the mall closes for the clients, why don't you come? It's an open party, we all bring families or partners…," he stopped, waiting for Alec to say something.

"I'd love to, yes, thank you. See you tomorrow," he left and headed to Izzy's car, his heart racing, his head a bit spinning.

Izzy needed just a glance to understand, "Are you ok?"

Alec looked at her and licked his lips, twice, "I don't really think so."

"What's wrong?"

He pressed his fingers at the corner of his eyes, exhaling, "Fuck, Izzy, I think I've fallen in love."

"And what's so terrible about it?"

Alec looked back at her, almost desperate, "He's the owner of the mall, beautiful and sexy as fuck, smart, and kind, and...what do I have to offer him?"

"Yourself, Alec. And believe me, it's not something you easily find around nowadays." She turned the engine on and drove him away.

After the last bowl of popcorn was over, Max was almost asleep against Magnus' chest.

"Dad?"

"Mm?"

"You were happy tonight when you came back from work, did something happen?"

Magnus kissed him on his head, gently, "Maybe, yes. I was thinking...We have a special Santa this year, do you want to come and make your wish?"

"You'd let me again?”

Magnus nodded and heard Max hum happily.

In that last week, Magnus found every excuse to be around Alec, and Alec always welcomed him with his bright eyes and his soft smile. The more Magnus stayed with him, the more he felt the desire to know him better. Magnus found himself thinking about which books Alec liked reading, what kind of movies did he watch, or what was the food he wanted to eat on a snowy night.

Magnus really wanted to invite him for a drink, but it was Christmas week and Max was at home with Cat the whole day, waiting for him to come home. That was what being a father was about. Putting Max first, every time, and Magnus knew not many would want a committed relationship with a lone parent.

Christmas Eve was really busy. Alec was searching for Magnus, but he never showed up. He wanted to see him one last time, since he’d decided not to show up to the party. He wanted to thank him for having made this month the best he had in years. All the customers had almost left when he spotted him at the end of the queue, holding a little boy in his arms, and chatting with him.

Max was the last kid of the day. Magnus knelt, putting him down and letting him walk toward Alec, to make his wish for this Christmas.

He knew that Max always asked for one thing, no matter if it was Christmas or if he was blowing his birthday candle, or watching a shooting star. All the others Santa had always given him silly answers, -- this is not a thing you can ask Santa, or this is a thing you should ask in your bedtime prayers, or Santa brings only toys-- , leaving Max always sad and deluded.

Why was he expecting Alec to give a different answer, he didn’t know.

As Max came closer, Alec opened his arms and pulled him up on his thighs, looking at him.

“And you are?”

“Max. Dad said you are a special Santa, so maybe you are the one who can finally help me with my wish?”

“I’ll do my best. What is it?”

"Can you bring my mum back?"

Alec felt like he had been slapped by a cold hand right on his face, as his eyes filled with tears.

He raised a hand and caressed Max’s cheek, staying silent as some seconds passed by, conscious of the other pair of eyes that were staring at him, aside from Max’s.

Alec thought carefully about the answer and then he started talking, “I wish I could, Max, but I can't. There are many things that happen in life that we can’t turn back or change, no matter how much we’d want or try to. Your mum has passed now and this means she can't come back, but there is something you can do about this. You can find her in the small things of your life, in the scents that remind you of her, in the melody she used to sing when she lulled you to sleep, in the words of a story she used to tell you at bedtime, in the way your smile probably looks like hers, and…,” he raised his gaze to look at Magnus who seemed visibly touched by his words, "... in the love your dad is giving you. In this way, it will be as if she never really left you. I know you miss her presence, her touch, and her voice, but if you close your eyes and search into your heart, you will find her there.”

Max looked intensely at the man in front of him, processing the words, serious and concentrated, then his face brightened in a sunny smile.

“Dad was right, you’re the best Santa I have ever met.” Max replied as he looked between his dad and Santa. He may not have his mom’s warm hugs anymore but Max did have his Dad’s embrace and bedtime stories. “Thank you Santa. I think you’re right.”

Alec let out a startled laugh as he held the candy basket out for Max, “Now, any other wish I can help you with?”

“Is there something you wish to have back and can’t, just like me?”  Max finally asked, picking up a candy cane.

Alec inhaled a sharp breath, “Of course there is.”

Max smiled and looked up at Alec, “Then come and spend Christmas with us, so you can tell me.”

Alec cleared his throat, “Leave a plate with cookies and a mug of hot chocolate, and I’ll see what I can do, ok?”

Then he kissed Max on his head, picked his sketchbook and drew a big comet on it. Giving it to the kid he told him, “Never stop believing Max, the best things come to us when we less expect them. Merry Christmas.”

He stood up, tearing another sheet from it, walked toward Magnus who was still kneeling and staring at him, handing him the drawing, “This is for you.”

Magnus looked at his portrait on the paper. He wanted to say something, but voices and laughters were coming from the hall of the mall, signalling that the Christmas party was about to begin.

“Magnus, Max?” they heard Raphael call.

Alec stepped back, grabbed his pencils and went to change his clothes, leaving Magnus and Max there.

He felt his heart aching at the idea of leaving without a word, but he knew that going to the party would have only meant to feel even worse when he had to say goodbye. He dressed up and before leaving he put a drawing next to the locker of each of the persons he had met and worked with, in those days.

“So you’re not coming,” he heard Wei say.

He turned, his eyes were red with unshed tears, that he wasn’t ashamed to show. “It would only be worse later. I’m already lost. I don’t want this to be out in the open, and if I ever get in there, with him, with them, I won’t be able to disguise it. Thank you for being my friend and confidant while I was here,” he told Wei as he hugged him, “Watch over him and make sure he’ll give his heart to someone worthy. Say goodbye to everyone, it’s been an honour working here.”

He patted the man on his back one more time, and then made his way out, deciding to walk home and let the snowflakes wash away the tears that were streaming down his face.

At the party, Magnus was trying to get distracted, but his mind was fixed on Alec, on the way he answered Max, and on the way the boy had seemed to want Alec in their lives.

Maybe he was the right one.

He would have asked him out, if only the man would show up, but he didn't, and Magnus had lost his hopes.

He was standing next to the bar, drinking and staring into the void.

"Drinking to celebrate or to forget?" Wei asked him.

"Neither of these, just drinking and enjoying the two days of rest we have ahead of us."

The old man hummed and took a glass himself.

"It seemed you were searching and waiting for someone who didn't come," he said, “Alec went away."

Magnus frowned and then exhaled, his voice turning sharp and bitter, "Ah yes, I call it the lone parent effect. It never fails to strike."

Wei looked at him, savouring his cocktail. The man looked to be weighing something in his mind before he spoke.

"He went away because he has feelings, and feared that these weren't reciprocated."

Magnus put down his glass on the counter.

"Who told you?"

"He did, just before leaving. And that's not the only thing I know about him."

Magnus shook his head, smiling, feeling his heart expand.

"Sit here with me and let's have a talk, Magnus."

The morning sun hit Alec right in the eyes and he cursed himself for not closing the curtains enough last night when he’d come home. He remembered feeling sad and being a bit tipsy, after stopping along the way to have a couple of beers.

He wasn't really used to drinking, so he always ended up confused and hobbling, until there was a couch or a bed to fall into.

Alec got up and stretched his arms and legs, staring at the thick snow already covering the roofs, and still falling from the pearly grey sky.

Jace and Izzy were out of reach for a couple of days, trapped in all those pompous meetings his parents always held at their place.

He put the coffee pot on the stove and took a pan, opened the fridge and looked at the watch. Nine o'clock. It was going to be a very long day.

He toasted some bread and cooked two sunny side up eggs, and put the plate on the table. He was scrolling his phone while eating, chuckling at the secret pics his siblings were sending him, before taking the still fuming cup of coffee, and going back to the couch, opening a book.

After a while he went to take a shower and then warmed some other coffee before getting dressed.

That's when he heard the doorbell ring.

He quickly put on a thorn old sweater he used at home and a pair of loose sweatpants. It must have been the old lady on the first floor, she knew he was alone.

He opened the door, threading his hand through his already ruffled hair and lost all his capacity to think and speak when he saw Magnus and Max, hand in hand, standing on the threshold of his small apartment, on that Christmas morning.

He wanted to say something, but didn't know where to start from. Magnus was looking at him, a shy smile on his face, a doubtful look in his eyes, as if he was sorry for showing up without calling him first.

Luckily Max was there too.

"So your real name is Alec?" the boy asked him.

Alec looked at Magnus, asking for silent permission, before nodding back.

"Me and dad had a talk about Santa," Max giggled, "he says that mall Santas are only interns right now. Like high ranking elves! Now I know why no one could help me, but at least, your words were honest, and we are here for a reason," and he elbowed his father on his leg.

Magnus seemed lost for a moment, trying to find the right words, then looked at Alec and said, "We were wondering if you would come and spend these two Holiday days with us. Our home is big enough and we have a spare room."

Alec looked at him and shrugged, incredulous.

"I want you to come, Santa Alec, please."

"And you?" Alec asked Magnus.

"I would love to. I would love to know you better, if you'd let me."

Alec smiled and it felt as if the sun had ripped through the clouds, even if it was still snowing, "I would love that too."

Magnus winked at him, "So that's settled. We will wait for you in the car while…"

Alec grabbed his wrist, pulling him inside.

"I'm sorry I didn't invite you in, I was… distracted. If you both don't mind the small place, I have some warm coffee and I can make you a hot chocolate Max."

As they sat on the couch, Alec warmed the coffee and prepared the chocolate.

The radio was playing in the background -- It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas --, Alec looked at Magnus intensely as he handed him the cup, and maybe, from now on, life was really beginning to look a lot like something they had been waiting for, for a long time.

#notquiteascrazy #malecsanta20 #*fic20 #*gifts20

[autodiscothings]

What does Kolyat really think of Ori’s shopping habit?

Interesting question, because this opens up further questions on how both view money- they’re both oddly on the same page, and on the opposite sides of it.

Kolyat is practical now, though he had a year of reckless teen spending (once Thane’s first care package came in.) It’s thanks to his father he’s never had to taste poverty at any stage of his life; when Thane worked construction, Kolyat remembers there was still food on the table, and he was kept warm and dry- even if it was in a one bedroom apartment in the city. Thane’s wetwork eventually brought in the big money; it paid for Kolyat’s school education when he walked away him, and after the Illuminated Primarcy took their taxes on the (above board) schemes, the inheritance he would receive at 21 was still sizeable. When money gets that big, it comes with its own accountancy firm and three ring circus. Kolyat knows enough to have some investments of his own and regular contact with his accountant, a volus who dealt with his father and understood the blood in the ledger. Even if the credits are leftovers from Thane’s accounts, Kolyat has to understand how to manage them. His father left him with oddities -legal and not so legal- he is still dealing with years after his death, like a shipping crate of elcor modern art he has to have valued and auctioned off, even if the money goes to charity.

He is weary with dealing with it all, almost a constant job if he lets it be one. Kolyat doesn’t view the investments and inheritance as his, but a leftover he has to sort out for his father- weird elcor art and all. He donated a lot to the Kepral’s Fund, but a part of it Kol did keep- the apartment on the Citadel, for one. It’s in perpetuity, but to a point; he only has the place for his lifespan. Kolyat is thankful for the nice volus that deals with most of it, so he can concentrate on his life in C-Sec; to a point, obviously- he still has to make decisions.

Oriana, on the flip side- she might have been born into Lawson’s wealth, but never got to experience it as a child. Despite how I draw her, despite the assumption she was born privileged, Ori was brought up in the immigrant quarters of Nos Astra. Her adoptive family were shabbily middle class: her father composed a jingle once a year for the CNN radio or the occasional ad soundtrack, sometimes worked as a tutor for ‘Human Music & Culture Studies’ classes for bored rich Maidens; her mother worked in software engineer for a pharmaceutical company, the main breadwinner. 

Ori grew up knowing that every credit was very much earned, and that times got tough. It’s why the gifts from her ‘guardian angel’ stand out; Miranda Lawson paid for her violin, her private lessons. A little bit here and there, to help out her sister.

Ori knows money opens doors, and that clothing ‘maketh the man.’ Her childhood in Illium was a place that judged you on what you wore and what (asari) family you came from; she then went to university in a human colony that did the same. Bekenstein might have had an excellent school for engineering and innovation, but it was also full of pompous nouveau riche who thought their money shined brighter.

Ori has been schooled in knowing that money doesn’t exactly bring happiness, but it brings a certain muffled blanket of carelessness, a shield from the shit of life. She hates wearing obvious branding, like the rich of Bekenstein did- awful shows of gauche spending and terrible taste. Even her college crush was flippant, in the way trust fund babies are.

Ori’s parents left her with a little, but taxes consumed a fair amount. Henry Lawson’s gift of inheritance gave Ori a very large amount of money, even after the Alliance seized his assets. She refused to touch it; Miranda persuaded her into keeping some, but Ori was sickened at the thought of owning blood money. Instead she talked Miranda into creating a fund for the victims of Sanctuary, for the families left behind. Ori still struggles with the paper work for it; the thought of handling anything relating to Lawson makes her sick. 

The Upper Ward apartment she mostly uses as a storage room belongs to Miranda; Ori’s wage at Kellams pays enough to keep her on the Citadel, just enough for her spending habit. She does eat into her savings, though- far more recklessly than Kolyat does. Somewhat ironic the man who lives in three pack t-shirts and workout gear is the richest out of them; Kolyat dislikes spending on anything, actually- eating out, bar crawls, skycar taxi rides. His C-Sec wage is enough for him- his biggest expense is the damn cat.

Ori genuinely loves well designed clothes, and buying them. To her, it’s structural engineering for bodies, an artform in itself. She experiments with colours and silhouettes, evident in her make up too- Henry Lawson found it very distasteful, as if purple lipstick ruined his creation. Wipe that grease off you face, you’re not a dockside whore.

Because Kolyat knows money -even through observation- he sometimes knows when Ori lies about her spending. She can be flippant- I got this on sale, oh I know the designer, it’s loaned- but not too heavily, not Bekenstein levels of pretence. Once she climbs the ranks at Kellams and networks more, the clothing she wants comes easily, even if she has to give it back to the stylist the morning after. (Gala clothes/jewels are often on loan from the archives!) 

The stickler comes when they get older and want to buy an apartment together. Kolyat is okay with a joint account, but only for expenses/bills- it won’t pay for her shopping habit. Ori’s spending and her carelessness regarding her possessions (his perception, not reality- she’s messy, not reckless) becomes an issue for him, one that she rolls her eyes at and deals with. In turn, she asks him to live a little more- they can afford the restaurant, the holiday, the extension to the kitchen. What’s the problem? Let’s do it.

This is quite an essay I know, but I think money and the attitude you had during your upbringing shapes how you deal with it as an adult. Ori’s spending habits is a reaction to it; She says it’s part of her work, that she has to fit in or use fashion as a weapon, but a part of her loves clothing. Not in the gaudy Bekenstein way, but in that she sees it as a form of expression. It’s important to her, too- a slick of purple lipstick, as an act of defiance.

Kolyat does know this of course, despite his grumblings. He gives her something extra special in their first apartment together- the spare room meant for their office is now a walk in closet.

It becomes the cat’s favourite place to hide.

#this is a literal essay #asks and prompts #kolyat krios #oriana lawson

[studiopoprocks]

Fluff alphabet with Hawks??? Yes please

Hawks/Keigo Takami Fluff Alphabet

*in adudible screatching* Hawks/Keigo Takami is probably my favourite character in the whole BNHA universe!🧡❤️🧡❤️

A - Affection (How do they show how much they care in their day to day lives)

Hawks would say that he’s really into extacagent things, like adventurous anniversaries, and getting you the same number of roses at the age you are for your birthday. But that’s cuz he doesn’t realize how amazing he is in everyday life. He thinks about you constantly, which always leads to a text on your well being of some sort. Sometimes he’ll even fly over to your work during his break just to see you. On the off chance he has a day off without you, he’ll bring you lunch, then follow you throughout work like a lost chicken puppy.

B - Before (How did they act before the relationship/ what was the relationship like?)

Hawks had always been a tease, so he flirted left right and center. Unknowingly to you, he had stopped flirting with everyone else except you. He seemed the exact same from when you were kids, but when a coworker pointed it out that’s when you started up. It was only competitive flirting until you two started dating. Afterwards it seemed like all his flirting turned into normal compliments, and went so much deeper then his old ones.

C - Comfort (How they act when their S/O is sad)

You try your best to be strong around hawks, he’s dealing with so much that you don’t want to be a burndon. So the first time he notices your sad, it’s a big shock. ‘Hey, don’t cry’ he’s so quite that you’d bearly noticed him come in. He’d just hug you, burring your head in his chest as he uses his wings to rub your back. He won’t pressure you to talk, mostly because his mind is racing, trying to figure out what happened. The next few days, he’s so lovely dovy just because he wants you to having something good in everyday.

D - Dawn (What are mornings like?)

You tend to wake up in a curtain of wings. It’s definitely your favourite way to start off the day, as you lazily brush your fingers through the red feathers. They are surprisingly warm, so you usually have to manoeuvre the blankets off of you somehow. By this point Hawks would already be awake, but he’d pretend to be asleep so you two could keep cuddling. Then you both need to rush out of bed, because you spent too much time laying there instead of getting ready. Just like every other day

E - Embarrassed (How does their S/O make them flustered? How do they return the favour?)

You’d bet money that Hawks goal in life was to embarrass you. He especially likes to do it when you’re not expecting it, like last month at the hero gala: He introduced you as his ‘love dove’ to everyone, then proceeded to comment on how cute your red face was. However, you were the one laughing when you pretended to whisper, and instead kissed him right infront of Endeavor.

F - First date (Were did you go and what did you do for your first date together)

Your first date was more like a competition. ‘Aww did ya miss me?’ ‘You wish. You’re the clingly one Hawks.’ ‘Sureeee, if I was your boyfriend, you’d have a hard time staying away.’ ‘I’d be a way better girlfriend then you!’ ‘Wanna bet?’ ‘Oh it’s on bird brain’ and this you too spent the next couple hours doing super classic dates. Going for coffee, a horror movie, and going out to eat afterwards. Needless to say, you both won.

G - Gentle (How Gentle are they with their S/O? Or do they like to rough house with them?)

Hawks won’t hurt you, but he won’t treat you like you’re made of glass either. Most of the time, he’s very soft with you, aside from the rougher kisses. However he’s developing this evil thing where he’ll throw you up in the air as your flying with him. It’s never for too long, but you screamed so loud that another pro came to check up on you too.

H - Habit (What do they repeatally do in the relationship?)

We all know Kei’s wings are strong. But Hawks has this habit of wrapping his wings around you, and not letting you go. So being unable to deal with the strength of his wings, you’re kinda stuck. The worst is when he’ll fall asleep like that, and you’re in desperate need to use the washroom or something, and you. Can’t. Move. You’ve talked to him about it before, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the hugs.

I - Intreating (What do they find fascinating about their S/O? And vise versa?)

He loves how interested you always are. As curious as a kitten he likes to say, before caving and telling you all about his day. For some reason you find his day facingating, and just how he lives his life. Hawks never understood it, but he loves the way you listen so intently to his stories, and give your own opinions. Especially on your borderline conspiracy theories on the LOV.

J - Jealousy (How easily do they get jealous, and how do they deal with it)

Honestly Hawks doesn’t get jealous, he fully trusts you and he doesn’t want to be an overbearing boyfriend. He does however, get self conscious when you seem to be enjoying another mans company. So expect him to give you his famous hug from behind, and quite a bit more attention then usual. He’ll talk very politely with you and the other guy, he just wants to be in the picture, beside you.

K - Knick Knack (A random momento they still have from their S/O)

You had found a cute pair of bird earrings, that sat ontop of a little red heart. You had to buy them right away! But instead of wearing them like you were supposed to, you turned them into little pins. It was simple, you just replaced the backs. Hawks almost cried when you game him one. He called it you, and you had him. You never see him wearing it, but he keeps it in his pocket, pinned to the back as to never loose it.

L - Location (Favourite place to go on dates)

Anywhere high up, duh. It’s nice and relaxing, and neither of you have to deal with fans. 9 out of 10 dates you’re above the clouds at some point. The other ones are you two going out to KFC, or anywhere with gooood chicken. But by far his favourite dates, is going to this family run chicken place, then heading on top of his agency’s building, and having a picnic while looking at the clouds.

M - Movie (What cliché movie trope has actually happened in the relationship?)

Childhood friends to lovers. Keigo and you were kinda friends when you were little, he liked to tease you a lot, but he never took it too far. But like all cliches, you two had been split up around the beginning of middle school, and only reunited once he was the number 2 hero. You could tell right away that it was him, because the first thing once he saw you was a flirtatious joke.

N - Nickname (What do they call their S/O?)

What He calls his S/O:

‘Love Dove’

‘Chicky poo’ What can I say, he loves his bird puns

‘Cutie’ likes to use this one in interviews

What his S/O calls him:

‘Kei’ confuses everyone because not many people know his name

‘Undercooked chicken nugget’ this comes up a lot more often then you’d realize.

‘Loveable goof’

O - On Cloud Nine (How they act when they are in love/ Is it obvious to everyone around them?)

This boy wears his heart on his sleeve. Of course at the beginning of your relationship, he had to act as though you two barely every talk. However there were many people who speculated you two because of how so dam obvious he was. He won’t realize how close he is, or how long he’ll be staring for, but once you mention it he goes stone cold. It’s kinda scary how quickly he can hid his feelings.

P - PDA (Do they like showing off their s/o, or are a little shy to kiss in public)

Your relationship had to be under wraps, as much as it broke Kei’s heart. If he could tell the whole world, he would. You both however, do end up going public after one of his fans starts bad mouthing you, and he shuts them up by kissing you right infront of everyone. Now he’ll talk about you any chance he gets, especially in interviews.

Q - Quirk (A random ability they have, that’s helpful in a relationship)

Due to his goofy nature, he can always make you smile. Of course if you want him to, he’ll listen to your problems with open ears. However sometimes you’re just in a funk, and he’s the guy to bring you out of it. From puns, to tickling, to complimenting you, nothing is off the table. He hates seeing you sad, but being the thing that makes you smile always warms his heart.

R - Rearly (Something they love to do, but it doesn’t happen often)

Absolute favourite thing in the world is when you preen his feathers for him. It basically feels like a more intimate massage, and is probably the most relaxed he will ever be. You always cover every inch, making sure every feather is cared for and properly in place. Sadly it takes so long, and really tires your arms out. So Hawks only gets this special treat on holidays or if he’s had a particularly rough day.

S - Special (Something that only them and their S/O do together)

Late night flights. When ever one of you needs a break, you dress in comfy cloths and jump out at window. Hawks will fly you above the clouds, and casually fly as you two talk together about whatever is on your mind. Anything from heart felt conversations, to jokes, to full out make out session. It’s a special thing you do for eachother, that high up in the clouds, there are no distractions, and no stress, only eachother.

T - Together (How often do they spend time with their S/O?)

Even through so much of his time is taken up by hero work, or dealing with the LOV, he still somehow manages to make lots of time for you. It’s likely because he skips out on a lot of his hero duties, or Dabi doesn’t want to listen to the boy rant about how he misses you. It’s actually really sweet that he makes sure to spend at least a little bit of time everyday with you.

U - United (In which way does the relationship become a whole? Marriage?)

Hawks likes to put up a front, he has to for the public. In the beginning of your relationship, he found he was even doing that with you. You knew something was up, and just wanted him to come to you in his time of need. It will be hard, but once he knows you genuinely love him, flaws and all, you’re relationship will sky rocket. He won’t keep any secrets, and will never put up a front for you, you could see through that anyways.

V - Value (What do they treasure the most in their relationship?)

Definitely the Truth and Honesty. He’s finally found someone who he can be 100% himself with, without the fear of being judged or ridiculed. Around you he can lower his guard, and the walls built around his heart. He honestly never thought he’d find someone like you, but now that he has, hell amber let you go.

W - Wish (What do they hope will come from the relationship?)

Keigo just wants a happy life with you. He wants to grow old, and not have to deal with the stress of hero work. He’s had to prioritize all of the world, but honesty he doesn’t want that weight, if he could choose, he wants to prioritize your relationship. He’s dreamt of being one of those old couples who still go on coffee shop dates, and brings flowers for eachother. But for now, he just has to wish.

X - XOXO (Favourite types of kisses and hugs)

Hawks adores hugging you from behind, while his wing encase you together. It makes him feel like he’s protecting you, and that you’ll never disappear. This position also traps you in his assault on your face. He’ll kiss any part of your face as long as it’s in his reach. Forehead, cheek, nose, mouth, he loves them all. He’s such a goof.

Y - Yearning (How do they cope when they're missing their partner?)

With how busy Hawks is, he takes being away from you very well. It’s almost to the point where you feel like he doesn’t care that much. However all those negative thoughts melt away the second you step foot into your shared apartment. No matter how many times you’ve told him not to fly in the house, he always zips right to you. Picking you up and half cuddling you, half flying you to a comfortable spot.

Z - Zeal (Will they go great lengths for the sake of the relationship? What kind?)

Like I said, he wants to grow old with you. He’s even physically told you that he’ll live for you, and keep doing his best for you both. Of course he’s lazy and if you ask him to get you a drink when your closer, no way. But if you asked him get you something when you’re actually upset, or in pain in some way, he will fly anywhere in the world at a drop of the hat.

#hawks is best boi #hawks x reader #hawks #x reader #bnha x reader #boku no hero headcanons #hawks headcanons #keigo takami #mha #bnha #my hero academia #fluff alphabet #fluff #request

[coupsnim]

20 questions 🌼

I got tagged by @delicatecy​, thank you célia!

1. what do you prefer to be called name-wise? my real name is quite peculiar and I learned to love it as I got older - however, if you look it up on facebook together with my country you can easily find me. so I usually go by izzie, that’s how my friends and family call me anyway ahah

2. when is your birthday? 18th april

3. where do you live? switzerland (not to be confused with sweden)🇨🇭

4. three things you are doing right now? working (way too much), learning german, and waiting for christmas holidays ahah

5. four fandoms that peaked your interested to be honest I try to avoid fandoms so it’s quite hard to answer this question - I believe I need to include harry potter, since I’ve been a fan for decades; doctor who was the reason I created my first tumblr account (but I haven’t watched it in ages) and I guess kpop as well? like I consider myself a fan of some artists, but not necessary part of the fandom (sometimes there’s just too much drama going on)

6. how has the pandemic been treating you? well, it has been hard - I got my master’s degree in february and quarantine started in march, so it made looking for a job a nearly impossible task. at first staying at home was fine, since I finally had time to relax, but as the months passed my anxiety got worse and worse. eventually I started working at the beginning of november, but I had to move to a city where I barely speak the language and all my colleagues work from home, so it’s been quite lonely. luckily I have many friends that live nearby or I can go back home during the weekend to see some familiar faces 😌

7. a song you can’t stop listening right now xs by rina sawayama and ah! love by seventeen

8. recommend a movie 'love actually’ since it’s christmas time ahah or ‘37 seconds’, I found it by chance on netflix and I really enjoyed it

9. how old are you? 26 (basically a fossil on this site) 👵

10. school, university, occupation, other? as I said before, I got my master’s degree on february in translation and technologies, now I’m working as a project manager for a translation company

11. do you prefer heat or cold? I love cold weather, I even sleep with my window open in winter because I really hate feeling hot or sweating

12. name one fact that other may not know about you I used to be really good at singing, I was part of the conservatory choir when I was a child and we won many awards - but unfortunately now my voice isn’t as it used to be

13. are you shy? I don’t know, it depends? I tend to be quite reserved at times, especially if there’s a lot of people around (I don’t like being the center of attention) but I can easily interact with strangers or people I just met

14. preferred pronouns? she/her

15. biggest pet-peeves? rudeness and ignorance

16. what’s your favourite “dere” type? I don’t know, sorry ahah

17. rate your life from 1 to 10, 1 being crappy and 10 being the best it could be 6,5/7? it’s not the best period of my life, but I still consider myself super lucky - I have a beautiful relationship with my family, my parents in particular, I have friends that are always by my side and always support me in everything I do, a roof over my head, now a job that I enjoy so I can say that I’m satisfied with my life as it is right now

18. what’s your main blog? @marghaerita

19. list your side blogs and what they’re used for well, this one is of course for seventeen and @ljinkinim is my multifandom account

20. is there something people need to know about you before becoming friends? I don’t know ahah just write to me if you want to, I’m not that bad once you get to know me ahah

tagging: @ourseokmin, @scoupsy, @defgyus, @soonhoonsol (sorry if you’ve already been tagged!) 🌼

#tagged #thank you again célia!

[mymelodyheart]

Forget Me Not Chapter 3 ~Frankly Speaking~

Lallybroch always made Claire's heart lighter, and no matter where her travels took her, it was still home she looked most forward to. Her inheritance from uncle Lamb enabled her to travel, which he inspired in her when she was a child. Forever grateful to Brian and Ellen for taking her into their family, she offered part of her inheritance from her parents and uncle, to put towards the restoration of the hotel. Despite Brian's initial unwillingness to accept Claire's gift, which was deemed totally unnecessary, she had insisted on end until they had to finally succumb. She had been too stubborn to let go of the matter, and told them, she'll never wholly be part of the family unless they accepted her contribution. Now home at last and soon working for the family business, she couldn't be any happier.

"That was bloody gorgeous," Claire gushed, grinning at Jamie, as she cleaned her plate, eating every morsel of the Raspberry Mille Feuille with relish, including the garnish meant for decorative purposes. It was a favourite treat that Jamie had made, especially for her homecoming.

"Watch yer language, young lady!" scolded Ellen gently, her disapproving look quickly turning into amusement as she watched her foster daughter finished the dessert with enthusiasm.

Claire's penchant for swearing was acquired from time spent with her uncle Lamb at archaeological sites during summer holidays before he died. No amount of admonishment nor threats of her mouth being washed with lye soap by Ellen put an end to the habit.

"Sorry ma...everything was just so delicious," Claire apologised in a muffled voice, mouth still full with pastry and raspberry. "Absolutely fabulous homecoming - I'm so terribly spoiled. I should go away more often. And Jenny, the Beef Wellington was divine. I don't understand why you don't want to work in a restaurant. You're a fabulous cook, and you can give Jamie and Willie a run for their money with your talent," Claire said, her eyes twinkling as she winked at her foster brothers.

Jenny smirked feeling pleased, as she had always taken pride in feeding and taking care of her siblings. She hoped one day when she and her fiance Ian Murray are finally wed, she would have many children to take care of. "Did ye hear that, laddies?" Jenny eyed her brothers. "Good thing I didn't join the family business and become yer head chef. Not that Murtagh isna doin' a fabulous job, but home-cooked classical dishes are still the best, instead of those fancy cooking ye lads learn at yer swanky school."

Everyone on the large family table laughed, and Claire sat back and watched in contentment as the quibbles, banter and sallies carried on. Even Geillis had joined in with the raillery, and she was glad her friend mingled easily with her family with no awkwardness. That's not surprising though, as hospitality and conviviality were what the Frasers were known for whenever guests graced Lallybroch.

Ever since stepping into the threshold of the Frasers home earlier, Claire was engulfed with familiarity and belonging, but somehow, she couldn't shake the feeling that somehow something had changed. It didn't take long to figure out what was different - she knew it was Jamie. He was no longer the gangly and ungainly lad that left Lallybroch for France six years ago. Although they had kept in touch regularly, it was the first time they had seen each other in years.

When Claire first laid eyes on Jamie at the platform of the train station earlier, her breath had hitched. She was caught unaware of how much he had physically changed. He was broader, taller, and his body gym-honed, as a result of his daily workouts. Claire had always known Jamie liked to keep fit but seeing the result of his discipline was another thing. She was flummoxed by the newfound awareness of him as a man and how devastatingly handsome he looked. Although he had held her in his arms before in his brotherly way when they were younger, somehow being held by him at the train station was different. The feel of him was conflicting with her childhood memories, and it made her confused as unfamiliar sensations arose in her. Now, more than ever, she was conscious of everything that was Jamie, and every time he looked directly into her eyes, strange flutterings sprouted from her belly causing her to feel warm and tingly all over. 

At one point during dinner, she had unconsciously glanced at his lips as he sipped his wine, noting the few days' bristles of his beard, and she allowed her mind to wonder how many girls he had kissed. When her gaze eventually went to his eyes, she was mortified that he caught her staring. Looking away in embarrassment, Claire mentally scolded herself for thinking such things, and she thought, how appalled Jamie would be if he knew what was going through her mind. She tried to dismiss the strange sensations triggered by his presence as silly musings of those of teenage girls'. But it was futile as he was constantly nearby and just like when they were younger, he was tactile and demonstrative with his affections.  Brotherly love, that's all it is and nothing more , Claire thought.

She was brought back from her reverie when her phone beeped and buzzed.

"No phones on the dining table...ye ken the rules, Claire," Brian reminded his foster daughter, throwing a stern look her way.

Geillis' prying eyes, having a mind of their own, wandered onto Claire's phone screen which was placed on her friend's lap. She saw the name, bold and clear as the screen was swiped to read the message. "Oooh, it's from Frank!" she announced inadvertently in a soft voice, but loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Frank? Frank Randall?" Willie glanced at Claire with an arched eyebrow. 

Claire felt the heat creep up her face, as she never told anyone, apart from Geillis, that she had been in contact with Frank ever since that one summer when they met for the first time since leaving school. She had been secretly in love with him for as long as she can remember and had arranged to meet up once she was back home.

Jamie leaned closer even though he was sat next to her. "Sassenach, why does Frank have yer number?"

"Are ye seeing a lad?" Brian piped in, now curious and attentive to the conversation, as Claire was the only one in the family who haven't brought home a special someone.

"Och Claire, ye're blushing, dear...so ye have a boyfriend?" Ellen joined in, beaming. "Ye should invite him for dinner so we can all get to know him."

"Ma! He was a prick back in school!" Willie blurted, giving Claire a disapproving look.

"Language lad!"

"So, is he yer secret boyfriend?"

"Sassenach?"

"Is it a date and if so, why is he no' picking ye up?"

"Ye have a boyfriend?"

Jenny didn't utter a word, but her head snapped back and forth, watching the interrogation like she was watching a tennis match. And Geillis' only answer to Claire's frown was "Ooops."

"I don't have a boyfriend, alright!" Claire snapped, sounding a tad bit terse than she intended to. "He's an English guy who went to the same school as Jamie and me, and we're just texting. I'll be meeting with him in the pub later."

Everyone was silent for a few seconds until Jamie spoke up. "Sassenach, I'll drive ye to the pub...it's getting late, and it's dark."

"No, Jamie, I can go to the pub myself. I'm a big girl now, and I don't need a chaperone. Besides, Geillis is coming with me," she replied impatiently, trying to hide her mounting irritation of being put into a spot like a schoolgirl caught doing something she shouldn't.

"I am?" Geillis sounded happy at the prospect of going to the pub. She had always loved going out.

Claire nodded to Geillis, giving her a warning scowl to zip it.

"Claire! Jamie is just offering to drive ye to the pub. We all know you can take care of yourself..." Willie joined in, asserting his position as the older brother.

"I was going to the pub meself, so I thought I'd drive ye..." Jamie added, the furrows on his forehead deepening.

"How convenient!" she muttered, regretting her reply immediately. Jamie had always been nothing but sweet to her and Claire wondered why she was feeling guilty that he knew she was off to see Frank.

"What's that supposed to mean? And why are ye upset?" Jamie asked.

"I'm not upset!" she retorted, giving him a pointed glare. In actual fact, she felt unsettled, and she doesn't know why she should feel that way. Her family was just curious.

"Yes, ye are! How long have ye been texting Frank?" Jamie remarked, his face devoid of any expression.

Usually, able to read Jamie's mind, Claire wondered what he was thinking. It made him harder to read when his gaze is so intense that she daren't hold them for long.

"Da?!?" Claire looked at Brian imploringly, looking for support. She daren't glance at Ellen as she knew there would be questions in her eyes. And the last thing she needed was having to explain to her family who and what Frank was.  It was no one's business!

Brian let out a sigh as he dug out his car keys from his trouser pocket and tossed it at Claire. "Here, lass, take my car. Right, lads...back off now. The lass is right. She doesn't need any of ye hovering about especially if she's seeing a boy...that's her affair. She'll tell us when she's ready."

Catching the keys, Claire quickly slipped out of her chair and went to Brian to give him a thankful hug and a kiss. "Thanks, da." And before anyone could say anymore, she quickly left the dining room, signalling Geillis to follow suit.

"Mind, if ye have too much to drink, call one of the lads or a taxi. Don't want ye drinking and driving..." Brian shouted after Claire.

"Aye da, will keep that in mind," she shouted back, mimicking his accent, as Claire ran up the stairs with Geillis in tow.

..........

Jamie felt like he was punched in the gut when he found out Claire was meeting Frank at the pub after dinner. What he thought of his adolescent infatuation towards his foster sister as long dead and buried, had resurrected in full force as something more astronomical and immense. It was no longer an innocent teenage crush with dreams of holding hands, gentle kisses on the cheek and sharing a tub of ice cream, but something more deep-seated that was awakening inside him. Perhaps, it had been there all along, and distance and absence had prevented him from dwelling on his yearnings. When he had held Claire in his arms at the train station, he felt a pleasant stirring, and he so wanted to bury his face in her neck and feel the thrumming of her pulse against his lips. Claire had pressed her forehead against his as she told him how much she missed him, and if Willie and Claire's friend hadn't been there, he might have been tempted to kiss her.

But then there's Frank.  Damn him to hell and back.  He should have gone back to where he came from after he finished school, but instead, his family had stayed, and Frank went to study law in Edinburgh. Claire would undoubtedly like that about him, her being an intelligent girl and all. If memory served him right, she had told him a long time ago, she preferred the tall, dark and handsome type, and now, Frank was an academic, to boot. To make matters worse, he was no longer the reprobate that he used to be. He was actually a nice guy, and after his pupillage, he was on his way to becoming a barrister and most probably a successful one too.

For as long as Jamie could remember, he and Claire had no secrets. Even when he was in France, and she, in Switzerland, there were nights when they would talk on the phone for hours on end. She never broached the subject about boyfriends or relationships in her life, and when he did ask, he had waited with bated breaths for her answer. Her response was always, "I haven't found anyone special yet." If he was perfectly honest with himself, he dreaded the day when Claire would announce she was seeing someone. So, it must have been Frank all along all these years. How could he compete with someone that Claire was wholeheartedly devoted to? But on the other hand, unlike Frank, Jamie knew her like the back of his hand; he understood her fears and weaknesses, he could tell when something was bothering her, and the world wasn't right, he accepted and appreciated her flaws as perfections and endearing, he remembered all her favourites and dislikes. And most of all, he wasn't going to stand back and let some English sod steal his Sassenach right under his nose.

Jamie looked at the grandfather clock as he heard a car parked on the gravelled driveway. It was past midnight already. As he hadn't been able to sleep, he decided to watch a movie in the family TV room, which was once their playroom when they were kids. He got up and poured himself a treble measure of whisky before settling once again on the sofa. He could hear Claire and Geillis giggling as they made their way up the stairs. Half an hour later, the door opened.

"Jamie?" Claire walked in, wearing one of his old shirt and thick, red woolly socks. "I hope you don't mind...I went to your room and took one of your shirts. I've never been a jammies person."

He smiled and patted the sofa next to him before getting up. "Fancy a whisky?"

Claire nodded as she padded over to the sofa and slipped under the quilt Jamie had been using to keep warm. It was a cold night, and he hadn't bothered putting the fire on. "What are you watching?"

"Just flipping channels...nothing exciting," he replied, handing Claire a tumbler with a double measure of Lagavulin, before settling next to her under the quilt. Jamie knew she liked her whisky peaty. 

"Jamie, sorry about earlier. I acted like a brat. I have no idea what came over me..." Claire started as she turned to face him, tucking her feet beneath her.

"It's alright, Sassenach." Jamie raised his glass. "Here, slàinte mhath  and welcome back home," he said softly. "So, how was yer night out?"

"It was alright...it was great to see a few familiar faces. I talked to Frank, but he had to leave early because of some emergency at home. We're meeting tomorrow morning again for coffee." Claire shrugged as she swigged her whisky with an audible gulp.

"That's nice. So ye still fancy the lad?" He was swirling his glass and looking into the oaky liquid.

"If you mean if I'm in love with him... I don't know...well, I don't think so. I thought I was, until tonight. I've grown up loving the notion of being in love, and when you're finally faced with the object of your fantasy, reality doesn't really do it justice, does it? But I do like him, and he's changed a lot. And he seems to like me, so we'll see how it goes. I guess I've changed... people change, you know...just like Frank."

Jamie let out a deep breath he'd been holding in for long. He didn't want to look at her lest he revealed the jealousy he felt towards Frank. "I've changed too ye ken, but at the same time, I'm still me."

"Jamie as I said people change and those changes are more noticeable, especially you haven't seen them for ages. But what I don't want to change is what we have between us...I think what we have is pretty special."

This time Jamie shifted from his position and turned to face her. "Aye, Sassenach, what we have between us is quite extraordinary. What I want ye to know is, what I feel towards ye and what I know I have with ye, will never change. I promise ye that. Best ye don't forget."

Claire smiled for the first time since walking into the room. She put down her tumbler on the coffee table and arms wide open, she beckoned, "Friends again?"

Jamie rolled his eyes as he reached out and gathered her to his side, laying her head on his chest before kissing the top of her head. "Sassenach, ye clown. Of course, we're always that. Now shall we watch a movie?"

Claire snuggled closer, pulling the quilt around them and wrapped her arms across Jamie's middle. "Alrighty, you choose as long as it's not a war film," she replied, settling in a more comfortable position.

Twenty minutes later, the door opened. It was Jenny. "Hul-loh, ye two. I thought I might find ye here."

Claire raised her head from Jamie's chest, drowsily. "Oh hello, Jenny, want to join us? Enough space on the sofa."

"Och no, I'm going to bed. I just wanted to ask ye both if you'd like to go out for dinner tomorrow night? Ian had Italian in mind. I've asked Willie and Geillis already, and they said they're coming. So what say ye two?"

"Sassenach, fancy Italian tomorrow and maybe bowling after?" Jamie asked, smiling as her head bobbed, realising she must have fallen asleep.

Claire nodded. "That would be lovely... sounds fun."

"That's fab, it's a date then. Good night ye two!" Jenny winked before closing the door.

By then, Jamie sensed Claire had nodded off to sleep as she let out a faint snore. He pulled her closer to his side, relishing in her warmth and the feel of her body so close. Jamie tried to concentrate on the film and dispel thoughts of what Claire's nearness was doing to him. He wished she didn't look so damned provocative, wearing only his shirt. Part of her appeal was that she was so unaware of her own allure and charms. As Claire shifted, muttering incoherently, Jamie knew he was on a very short tether, strained and taut, that was likely to snap any moment. He needed badly to refill his glass with a good measure of whisky but didn't want to disturb Claire's slumber. He was just at the point when he was getting uncomfortably strained when the door opened again. It was Willie this time.

"Oh, it's ye both, I thought someone left the lights on," Willie whispered as he noticed Claire sleeping on Jamie's arms.

"Listen, Willie, can ye do me a favour and carry Claire to bed. I have an awful cramp on my leg and can't stand. I dinna want to disturb her."

"Aye, nae bother."

Willie lifted Claire effortlessly in his arms before saying good night to his younger brother.

The moment Jamie heard the door closed upstairs, he quickly got up and poured himself another treble measure of whisky or maybe more, and downed it in one go.  Christ Sassenach, ye'll be the death of me!

#melodyheart #forgetmenot #Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser #outlanderfanfic

[suckasstakenames]

Okay now do all the other ones for tyde 😘

ALRIGHT ALRIGHT SHEESH

(I’m gonna copy n paste the hcs I did before so they’re all together n stuff (’: )

BRACE YOURSELVES ITS A LONG ONE

Tyde Headcanons:

1. Who makes the first move and how?

Token makes the first move. He’s quick to notice a change in Clyde’s behaviour and probably brings it up to him. Clyde’s most likely the one to develop strong feelings first but I think he’d refrain from making any moves because of their friendship, and I think Token will pick up on that (cause he’s a clever boy) and try and push it, perhaps even flirt with him just to make him more flustered 👀

2. Who is the most insecure and what makes them feel better?

CLYDE 100%. Attention and affection makes him feel better, comfort food, and being reassured that he’s a good person 😋 also soft Disney movies and movies about animals

3. Who is the most romantic?

Do I even need to say it? TOKEN. It doesn’t get any more romantic that him

4. Who can’t keep their hands to themselves?

Both of them for different reasons. Clyde is needy as fuck and lives for attention, and Token when he’s in a certain mood can get pretty touchy feely, like stroking Clyde’s hair or rubbing his back.

5. Who says ‘I love you first’?

Ooooo that’s a tough one……it could be either one of them. But I’m gonna say Clyde because I feel he likes to express his emotions no matter what, and one day he just blurts it out

6. Who would they ask if they ever had a threesome?

Kenny probably. Or, depending on his relationship situation, Craig. I think they’d prefer Craig from knowing him better though

7. What do they get up to on a night out?

Oh my god what DON’T they get up to on a night out? It’s mainly just Clyde being a bad influence and Token trying not to give in (and failing). They sing a WHOLE lot, do stupid dances together, and always drink more than they should. But Token is only ever like this when he’s with Clyde.

8. What do they like in bed?

Token likes to worship Clyde because he knows it makes him feel special. He’ll give and give and not expect anything back. I also think Clyde would randomly walk in wearinng some of Token’s clothes because he knows that drives him wild.

I ain’t gonna get TOO nsfw on main (I have a fair few hcs in that respect!) but I think they’d roleplay, but not seriously? Because they’re both massive dorks and will just laugh hysterically at each other and use THE cheesiest pick-up lines they can come up with 😭

9. What is the most embarrassing thing they’ve done in front of each other?

Clyde probably did something stupid infront of Token’s family like choke on his food when they’re out for a meal or something (K, Cori, I see u)

As for Token….idk?? Maybe he performed for the first time to Clyde on his own and got super embarrassed about that??

10. What two songs, two books, and two luxury items do they take to a desert island?

Idk probably a Post Malone song and a James Brown song PVGFDFGT

I don’t really read a whole lot of books???but they prolly both belong to Token (help me in comments rip) and as for luxury items, an instrument? or a game they can play together? actually they’d probably need something to play the songs on LMAO

11. What do they hide from one another?

Not a lot. Starting off as best friends had it’s perks

12. What first changes when it starts to get serious?

They both start losing their cool completely. They start acting awkward around each other, they start getting hesitant when they’d usually tell each other everything. The most simple interactions become much harder

13. When do they realise they should get together?

When it gets awkward enough to notice. When it truly starts to affect their friendship

14. When one has a cold, what does the other do?

Token goes into mom mode. Takes him in, wraps him up in like three blankets, puts on his favourite movies and tv show and will whip up a kickass soup to make him feel better.

Clyde will also take him in and run around doing stuff like going out and buying treats. He’ll get really defensive towards anyone else like “LEAVE HIM ALONE HE’S SICK” and he’ll always be worrying about whether he’s doing a good job at looking after him.

15. When they watch a film what do they choose and why? 

Usually comedies or some really dumb film that they can just laugh hysterically at. Clyde will have the last say because theres a chance he COULD cry if an animal dies or something.

16. When the zombie apocalypse comes, how do they cope together?

It’s basically Token who runs the joint, Clyde just follows along like a lil sheep. But they do learn new things together like how to properly kill the zombies. And while Token does the majority of the thinking, they help each other out equally.

17. When they find a time machine, where do they go?

back to a time when funk and jazz music were popular so Token can have a field day

18. When they fight, how do they make up?

They forgive each other SO easily, so it takes just a cuddle and both of them are fine LOL

19. Where do they go on their first date? 

Somewhere super casual, like their favourite diner or something

20. Where do they go on holiday?

Somewhere sunny, not a city but rather somewhere more set out from civilisation so they feel like they’re on their own

21. Where do they get nervous about going with one another?

Being in front of each other’s families

22. Where does their first kiss happen?

At a party when they’re both drunk

23. Where is their favourite place to be together?

I can imagine sometimes they just drive into the middle of nowhere at night and sit on top of a hill or something and just talk for ages? And when its cold they’ll take a blanket and just snuggle up

24. Where do they first have sex?

On Clyde’s sofa during movie night

25. Why do they fight?

usually because Clyde’s paranoid about something, or Token (rarely) loses his patience

26. Why do they need to have a serious chat? 

Because one of them is worried that they might lose the closeness they had in their friendship

27. Why do their friends get annoyed with them?

mostly during nights out because of how drunk they get together? But also because they can get too soppy

28. Why do they get jealous?

Spending too much time with another guy in their friend group

29. Why do they fall a little bit more in love?

Because of the fact that they’re not just lovers, they’re best friends, and they’ve spent their entire life together so that they can’t imagine how they’d cope without each other

30. Why does it work (or not work) between them?

Just gonna…..casually scratch out that bracket because there’s no way it won’t work

#some n/s/f/w mentions #GASPS FOR AIR #THAT TOOK ME A WHILE #tyde #sp tyde #south park tyde #token x clyde #clyde x token #asks #anon

[the-fox-populi-says]

I don't often write long personal stuff on this blog. But the past month I've been confronted with a very odd privilege I wasn't really aware of. Apparantly, I am a natural hermit. I was alone a LOT as a child. I always found ways to entertain myself. People have told me before they found it sort of odd and/or remarkable that I manage to get out of bed and do stuff every day, on my own, from home, despite not making much money of the stuff I do. I always sort of shrugged it off. I like making things. Occassionally I sell things. Not a very steady income, though. My partner's income makes sure I don't starve. Which I sometimes feel guilty about, but that's not the point here. I was aware of my privilege in that department already. No, this new one... is about self-motivation. About boredom. Whatever I may have expected this pandemic to reveal... this wasn't it. I fundamentally do not understand boredom.

I will try to phrase this in a way that doesn't upset people (I know this is tumblr, so it's probably futile, but still). This is not an accusation to anybody. This is a personal observation, a reality I've been living in, but never really noticed. Not to this extent, at least. People... need structure. I know that. I do too. People are social. I know that. I am too. But still I was not prepared to see this many people react this badly to isolation. If you're stuck with people you don't like, of course. If you have a teensy little living space with no balcony or garden, of course. If you're worried about your health or those of close friends/relatives, of course. If you are touch-starved, of course. If your job/business is at risk, of course. If you are already struggling with depression, an eating disorder, a disability or are otherwise dependant on people taking care of you, of course. If you're very extraverted and can't stand being alone, of course. If you're a huge workaholic/completely exploited so you have no idea what to even do with free time, of course. If you suddenly get like 5 times the responsibility/ work load/ risk exposure because of your job, of course. If you have no money to get materials to fill your time with, of course. If you have little means of connecting with others such as a working internet device, of course. But then I see people, close friends even, with no friends or family at risk, no personal (mental) health issues, a secure job, living with a loving partner, in a spacious home, who have hobbies, and a safe place to go outside, an online continuation of their job so structure is still pretty much there, often even have a work room/study so they can still sort of separate work & private, some of them are even used to working from home already... And they are still climbing the walls. These same people who always want to have holidays. Who always have lists of stuff they want to do and complain about a lack of time. Which they now have. They say they can't get motivated. They say they are bored. And, like... I get it. To a certain degree. This is a worldwide traumatic event. It's tiring, even if you aren't at the front lines. I'm also bummed that I can't derp through the city centre for fun like I'm used to. I hate being forced to use a desinfected shopping cart. I miss my gym, my favourite bar, and seeing my friends. I've had some bad days. But that's it- I'm just bummed. And they're just days, sometimes just hours, not weeks. It's an "ugh" not an "aaargh". And it doesn't get worse- It gets easier. As long as none of the other factors change, like someone I care about getting very sick (some were, or even still are, but none of them seem in immediate danger), or money suddenly falling away completely... I can easily last another 2 months before going mad. In fact, I've just comfortably settled in for the long haul. I got my hugs, my yard, my job, I can still get groceries- I'm good. A bit annoyed, but good. Not much actually changed... Except everyone around me seems to suffer from some real cabin fever, including my partner. Even my dad, Einzelgänger McNeed-no-one, seems grumpy.

And I'm just... baffled. Is it really that hard to stay motivated all by yourself, even if your basic needs are all met? Am I some kind of alien?? Do y'all not have projects? Hobbies? Books and games and movies you want to catch up on? Do you not feel like you're always months behind on everything? Do you normally not want to cram as much hours as possible in a day? Is it really that difficult to just do things? Even instant reward things? I'm no stranger to procrastination, or executive dysfunction, not at all, but... genuine boredom? I don't even understand how that WORKS. I can recall the last 3 times I've been legit bored in the last five years. They were all situations where I had to wait for something, yet keep alert the entire time. In any other situation, I can just set an alarm and retreat in my head. Or do a thing. Again- if your basic needs AREN't met (I'm not talking about a haircut, I mean like physical starvation) or if you're in some other stressful situation, including mental or physical illness/disability- yes. Absolutely. You're burnt-out, completely understandable. But if you HAVE a structure (a bit altered maybe, but still), HAVE somebody nice with you, HAVE non-risky job security, CAN communicate with loved ones- HOW. What is it that normally keeps you motivated, then? Do you need that specific an environment & rhythm to thrive, even if you often complain about it?? Explain it to me, please! I know we're dealing with global environmental catastrophe and this pandemic will likely cause a global recession on top of it, but- to me, at a certain point the amount of shit just becomes insurmountable and it doesn't matter much anymore if anything gets added. Who knows how I'll afford retirement. At this rate might very well not be able to afford clean water before that. We'll cross that bridge when (if) we get to it. Do whatever you can while you can, and that's enough. And making stuff is a great way to combat existential dread. I know that at the start of this, most people with anxiety functioned way better than the so-called normal people. Because a) they were used to navigating panic-mode, b) the social distancing took a load off and c) their brains went HAH SEE WE WERE RIGHT THERE WAS A THREAT! which I imagine must be sort of satisfying and relaxing. I figured this was the evolutionary benefit of anxiety. So now that cabin fever is rising, why do I not see more natural hermits being weirded out by everyone around them? Should there not be a decent group of humanity that keeps a level head during isolation? Has it become some social faux-pas to say you're personally not all that bad right now? Are you supposed to complain, even if you're fine?? Am I going to make myself some kind of outcast by posting this???

#what does the fox say #a lot this time apparently #corona virus #isolation #oppa hermit style

[incorrectvalkyrie]

Questions About My Original Character...

Kody “Kingdom” Ammirati 

What does your character’s name mean? Did you pick for the symbolism or did you like the way it sounded?

My character is named after a friend of mine who passed away a while back. The character’s nickname is a symbolism to how she sees rainbow six as her family. Growing up her father referred to his family as a “kingdom” and how he was willing to do anything to protect and support his family at any length. It was something that stuck with her

What is one of your character’s biggest insecurities? Are they able to hide it easily or can others easily exploit this weakness?

Kody’s only insecruitiy is that sometimes she thinks she’s not good enough and she’s pretty good at hiding it. Only Frost knows about it.

What would be their favorite physical trait about themselves?

Kody loves her eyes the most because it is one of the only things she has in common with her mother. Nice Blue eyes.

What are their favorite traits about their lover?

Kody loves Elena's mind and how it never stops coming up with ideas, always thinking. Also her voice, Kody melts everytime Elena starts talking (Especially when it's dirty)

Are they sexually confident or more of the shy type?

Kody is for sure a bit of both. To her her lover, she is confident while to someone she hardly knows, she can become a bit closed off and keep it to herself.

Do they have any hobbies that their lover finds unusual, odd, or otherwise annoying?

Kody loves to cook! Her mother and Nona taught her when she was young and she's really good at it! Elena finds it a tad bit annoying because the team forces her to cook all the time, taking away their down time.

Is there a catchphrase or sound that they tend to make a lot (likely without being aware of it)?

Kody tends to say “i suppose” or “perhaps” absentmindedly to things that are said to her, mira finds is cute

What is, perhaps, their biggest flaw? Are they aware of this or oblivious to it?

Kody’s love and her loyalty to her family and friends, she would do anything for them no question. 

Do they have a favorite season? What about a favorite holiday?

Kody love’s winter! She always loved the cold, the snow, and the hot coco after being out too long. Her favourite holiday is definitely Christmas, her entire family gets together and spends the week together. She can't wait to drag Elena with her. 

What is something that would make your character fly into a rage?

If anything were to ever happen to her family/friends she would lose it 

Is there some particular talent, skill, or attribute that they simply could not give up?

Kody would rather die than lose her cooking talent. It keeps her close to her Nona. 

What are your character’s sleeping habits? Heavy or light sleeper? Blanket stealer? One that always rolls onto the floor? Pushes their lover onto the floor? Sleep talker or walker?

Kody, when first falling asleep is a heavy sleeper but when closer to morning the lighter she comes. Kody tends to cuddle a pillow for some reason (she’s been doing so since a child) but recently, she tends to cuddle Elena more than a pillow.

Do they live alone or with family? How do they feel about their family/roommates?

Kody used to live alone before joining team rainbow and living on base but when she gets the chance she does stay over at her parents because why not?

Is your character the athletic type or more of a couch potato? What are some sports/games that they like?

Kody can be a bit of both. She loves playing ice hockey during the winter with her fellow JTF2 and spetsnaz, or playing some soccer with Capitao and the brits. Sometimes she finds herself sparing against Cav, hoping to improve her Jiu-Jitsu. Some days you’ll find her just being lazy on the couch watching the simpsons.

Does your character have dreams of getting married and/or having children?

Yes to both. Kody has always wanted to get married to the person she loves and have her own big family to share her traditions with

What kind of home would they want to live in? Where would they place this abode?

Kody has voiced that she’d enjoy just a simple home, if possible by her family. Elena has said she agrees but wouldn’t mind somewhere quiet and out of a city.

Would your character be the kind to get into fights? (physical or verbal) Would they be a good fighter or cave in rather easily?

Kody does have a tendency to get into fights, physical more than verbal. Growing up with five brothers she became good at fighting simply because brothers can be jerks 

Does your character like animals? What are some of their favorite animals? Would they want pets? 

Kody loves Dogs! She impulsively bought a dog and brought it home to hereford. Harry was not impressed and told her to get rid of it but the team complained and harry gave in and allowed the dog to stay. They named her Jellybean. 

What is one of your character’s biggest fears? How would they react when dealing with this fear?

Kody’s biggest fear is to die alone and i think to be in that situation she would probably go into a full blown panic 

What kind of tattoos, piercings, birthmarks, freckles, and other such unique physical features do they have?

Kody had her blood type, AB tattooed on her inner right wrist as soon as she joined the military. She’s not big on tattoos or piercings so she never bothered to get others. 

In their own words, how would your character describe what their lover is like?

“What’s Elena like? Elena is amazing! She’s so kind and patient! She is really like the mom of team rainbow, really stern and makes sure everyone is behaving. Huh? What's she like alone with me? Well, she’s quite dominate *laughing* She loves being in control, which is fine… she's kinda kinky y’know? But I love it, I love her!”

Is there something traumatic from your character’s past that greatly affects them even to this day?

When Kody was about six or seven, her and her mom were in a fire accident that almost killed them, kody often has nightmares about it but it doesn't affect her a whole lot but it does make her a bit more hesitant when she is around fire. 

What is their lover like sexually? How do they feel about their lover’s quirks, needs, etc?

Elena has quite a high sex drive that Kody enjoys a lot. Elena is into anything really and Kody is all for Elena’s needs, easily submitting to anything she wants.

What is one of the most courageous things your character has ever done for a loved one?

Nothing too big or serious but during a training simulation Kody jumped onto a paint grenade, taking the full damage, giving Elena the time to clutch the match.

If your character wanted to be alone, where would they go?

Kody would go somewhere pretty high up and quiet, so possibly the roof of hereford.

Does your character have favorite foods? (breakfast, lunch, dinner, dessert, snacks, etc)

Kinder Surprise chocolate! Kody loves that chocolate so much. When Elena notices something off she’ll go off base and buy her tons of kinder products to help her cheer up.

Is your character afraid of death? If they got to choose how to die, how would they want to go?

Kody isn’t afraid of death, she’s the kind to accept it with both arms open. If she had the option, she’d choose to be with her family and friends.

What kind of weather does your character like? Cloudy skies, rainy days, sunshine, etc?

Kody loves Thunder and lightning, no real reason but claims that it helps her sleep easier.

Does your character’s family affect your character in any way?

Kody finds that she has to prove herself to her father and brothers to find her fit in the family, but other than that her family is supportive and constantly keeping contact with her. They love her lots. 

Is there a particular event that would emotionally devastate your character?

If anything had happened to her family or Elena that she could have prevented. It would break her completely. 

Is your character the kind to hide their true emotions or do they wear their heart on their sleeve?

Kody wears her heart on her sleeve but she has a tendency to hide how she feels in certain situations 

 What is some random affectionate thing that your character always does to their lover?

Whenever Elena is in the lab working on new projects, Kody will always bring her a fresh cup of coffee and some snacks, then proceed to hug her from behind, kissing her neck softly. Elena adores it

Is your character outgoing? Would they be the leader of the friend group, or the quiet one that gets dragged along?

Kody is really outgoing and is easy to befriend everyone, though she can be quiet and be dragged out of her comfort zone to things with groups. She doesn’t mind though.

Is there anything in particular that would ignite your character’s jealousy? Or does your character not get envious?

Sometimes when Elena and Eliza are together, Kody can get a bit jealous but Monika assures her that there is no need because Elena is interested in no one but her. 

What is something that your character has nightmares about? Are these frequent? Do they heavily affect your character’s mood?

One of Kody’s constant nightmares, besides the fire when she was younger, is one of her overseas on her last tour where her unit was part of an ambush that took out all of her unit but herself and her friend. They don’t affect her mood much, but she does get quiet and keep to herself. Elena is quick to notice this and will force her into bed and spend the day together watching movies and cuddling. 

How does your character and her lover confess their love to each other? 

One day Kody is just sitting in the lab watching Elena work and she just blurts it out without thinking, making Elena stop and blush. 

It takes Elena a few weeks to say it after the training sim where Kody takes the paint frag. Elena rushes to her and pulls her into a heated kiss in front of everyone, telling Kody that she loves her afterwards.

When does their first hook up happen?

Their first hook up was as strangers when they met at a bar, neither of them counted it as their first time. Kody says it was when Elena dragged her into Meghan Castellano’s room and slammed her against the door and called her an over exicted puppy before Fudging her into a crazy mess. Elena merely comments “She had it coming, and i have no regrets.”

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If you have other questions you’d like feel free to hit that inbox cause i will answer them..... Hope you guys liked..

IncorectValk [:

#rainbow six siege #my oc character #Kingdom #Kingdom x mira #my stuff #original character