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booksforevermore13 · 3 years

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Nine days (at long last)

Summary: Harry wants to propose to Ginny, but it turns out to be a lot harder than he thought. In the end, it takes nine days.

A/N: Huge, huge thanks to my awesome teammates Autumn, Ashleigh and Hannah for looking through the fic! I had a lot of fun writing this (after ditching another one I wrote) but in the end, I'm glad it turned out okay! Read it on Fanfiction or AO3 if you prefer!

...

"Mate, if you're waiting for the right moment, this is it."

"I know."

"Like, now."

"I know."

"She's looking at you, mate."

"I know."

"It's now or never."

"I know," Harry hissed, glaring at Ron. Consciously, he glanced at her again, standing between Bill and George and laughing as George spoke, and, if he hadn't chosen today as the day he proposed, he'd have been laughing along with her. But her eyes were on him, and then not, as her gaze turned to George and she laughed and Harry found himself immediately missing her gaze.

"I know what the problem is," Ron announced and Harry looked at him, arching an eyebrow in question.

"What?"

"You," Ron pointed at him, "are going to propose to her," and then pointed at Ginny, "my sister. My only sister."

"I know who I am going to propose to, Ron. Get to the point."

"The point is that I," he declared, "am her brother. It doesn't fundamentally work for me to tell you, my best mate, to marry my only sister. That… that's like violating the brother's code."

Harry rubbed his forehead, glancing warily at the glass of whisky in Ron's hand. In the short span in which Hermione had gone to help Mrs. Weasley with the cooking, he'd downed more than he would have with her around.

"How much have you had to drink, Ron?"

"Enough to be disgusted by the two of you simply looking at each other. You act as if you've never seen her before, Merlin."

"Oh, god, Ron, she's looking at me again."

The last time he'd been this nervous was back in his sixth year and that was when he and Ron had been dolts of the highest calibre. When he looked at Ron again, he was shaking his head in exasperation.

"Yeah, why is that, Harry? Did she find out you've been staring at her for the last ten minutes?" Ron hissed and Harry glared at him.

He clearly wasn't expecting Ron to give him a sharp nudge to his ribs, and when he did, Harry found himself a lot closer to Ginny than he was before. This time, when he turned, Ron nodded excitedly at him and when he looked at Ginny again, this time, her eyes were already on him.

"Hey," he found himself saying as he walked near her. George leaned over to say something to Bill but stepped away as Ginny turned on them, and they put their hands in the air, grinning.

"Hey back," Ginny said as he neared, and if he hadn't been so secretive these last few days, he'd have thought she'd figured it out.

For a second, he wished he hadn't chosen the Burrow to be where he proposed. nine days before Christmas, too. It was a time when everyone in the family was there, and the extended family too, and the Burrow became so crammed up that they slept on the couches and conjured tents outside. Harry loved it, but given the time, it might not have been his ideal choice for a proposal.

But the Burrow was and had remained the place where he had the most good memories, the best ones, with the people he loved and who loved him back, and in the end, he'd figured this to be the right place. The best one.

"You want to say something to me, Harry?" Ginny asked, and Harry realised with a jerk that he'd been staring.

"I do." He coughed and patted his coat pocket, searching for the box. "It's uh… very important."

"Yeah?" Ginny smiled and stepped forward, putting her hands around his neck. Consciously, he could feel eyes on them, but focused on Ginny, the slight smile on her face, her flaming red hair falling in waves down her shoulder and when he looked closer, the tiny flecks of golden brown in her eyes.

Where in the bloody hell was that box?

"You look beautiful," he stammered, searching his jeans for the box. He'd told her that before, but in the heat of the moment, complimenting her was the only thing coming to mind. He checked his coat pocket again. He was sure he'd had it while talking to Ron. He'd felt it.

"Harry." He heard Ginny say his name and looked up at her to see her chuckling."What is it you want to say?"

"I… uh…"

It wasn't there. The bloody box wasn't there. Harry brought out his hands from his pocket and with one hand, brushed back some of her hair behind her ear. "It's nothing," he found himself saying. "Just uh… want you to know how much I love you."

And that if I could find that ring, I'd get down on one knee right now.

Ginny laughed and if Harry could have bottled that sound and got drunk on it every day, he would have. "Where's this coming from?"

"Nowhere," he said hurriedly. Goddamnit.

Harry could see she was trying not to laugh. "What's going on, Harry?" Ginny asked, and Harry stilled.

Should he tell her? Without the ring? Harry looked at her, taking note of every small detail, even though he'd done it a thousand times before. The sprinkle of freckles around her nose, the golden brown flecks in her eyes. Her face was so close to him that he could smell the sweet fragrance of the sherry she'd been drinking and Harry knew that if anything, she deserved a perfect proposal. So, he shook his head and waited a moment longer. Then he kissed her.

If there were any groans from the audience, he didn't notice, nor did he care about the fact that he was kissing her in front of her brothers, who'd threatened him more than once for the mere feat that was dating her. No, instead, he cupped her cheek to bring her closer, one hand lost in her hair.

When they finally broke for air, and she looked at him with that knowing smirk on her face, Harry couldn't help but kiss her again.

"Have I ever told you," he said breathlessly, "that your hair is really soft after you wash it?"

And she laughed, and Harry felt a surge of disappointment because after all the talk of right moments, he knew that if he could do it, he'd do it now.

When they finally turned, the crowd around them had left, all except for Ron looking disapprovingly at him, Hermione who'd come back during the commotion and who was now shaking her head at him in earnest, and George with a rather bored look on his face.

"I thought it was going to be interesting," he said, and then shuddered. "Instead, all we got was a very public display of affection. Merlin."

And as Ginny laughed beside him, Harry couldn't help but blush.

Try another day, it was.

…

Harry shivered as he stepped inside the Burrow. It was two in the night and the silence he entered was almost jarring. Pots clanging, Victoire crying, Teddy's excited voice from the living room, George and Ron laughing in the backyard, Ginny screaming at her brothers; it had become a comfort to hear it. Now, however, silence.

He welcomed the warm gust of air as he closed the door behind him, shrugging off his coat and jacket, keeping his boots on the mat. He'd not expected a call from the Ministry that night. Two nights before Christmas, and they'd spotted Mulciber in a Muggle village, and he'd had to go in. They'd not anticipated anyone else, but when they Apparated there Mulciber had not been alone.

"Hey," he heard a voice and turned around, a smile on his face before he even saw who it was.

Ginny was sitting on the couch, a tub of ice-cream in her hand.

"What are you doing up?"

She shrugged. "I had a very strong craving for blueberry ice-cream," Ginny said and Harry laughed.

This was not the first time he'd come back home to see her up. Harry'd never said it, but it was comforting, coming back home at three in the morning to see her licking off ice-cream right from the tub. He'd sit beside her and she'd open up a tub of chocolate and they'd eat it until it melted.

Harry sat beside her on the couch.

"How'd the mission go?"

"Rough," he replied, not bothering to lie. Ginny knew him well enough to catch his bluff.

"What happened?" she asked, and he could hear the distinct concern in her voice, the fear in her eyes.

"Nothing major. Avery was hoping for a tussle when we went in. There were a dozen of them, five of us. Took us by surprise."

He felt her still beside him and looked at her, smiling reassuringly.

"Was anyone hurt?"

"No. Bruises, stuns, splinches, nothing that'll stay."

"And you?"

"I'm fine."

She sighed, and Harry leaned against her, too awake to feel sleepy, yet completely worn out. He felt Ginny move under him and then her thumb rubbing circles on the juncture between his thumb and his index. He smiled absently, closing his eyes in comfort.

"You know," Ginny said softly, "George and I, we scrounged up a T.V today, televelly something."

"Television." Harry smiled absently. She was offering a distraction, and Harry was glad she was. He needed one.

"That," Ginny chuckled. "We fixed it. Well, Hermione did and then we found this… this… some moony…. moovyon it."

"You mean, a movie?"

"Yes, that," Ginny said indignantly and Harry laughed and pressed a kiss on her forehead. "Anyway," she waved around her hands, "I found a movie on it, and it's the same as a book I read when I was young. Frankenstein."

"You've read that?"

Ginny nodded, and then got up, squeezing his hand as she did and then rummaged under the table for something. She walked behind the sofa, and hauled up a large cube like thing, covered by the black cloth. Harry watched her in confusion as she took out her wand and charmed a table mat into a socket, and then took off the black cloth.

"Wait, you really found a T.V?"

She looked at him, an eyebrow arched. "You thought I was joking?"

"No," he said, and Ginny smiled.

She rummaged around a few more minutes, conjuring up things, fixing wires into sockets and then sat down beside him, a remote in hand.

"Don't look so surprised, this is all Hermione," Ginny said and pointed to the screen "I thought this was a mirror."

Harry had to hold back a laugh before she peered at the remote and pressed a button and he whistled as the screen came to life. Ginny wiggled her eyebrows at him and then pressed a few more buttons, and as fast as the screen had lit up, a black and white series of images appeared on the screen.

"I know, I'm brilliant," Ginny said, smirking at him.

"Damn right.'

She turned her gaze to the screen and he followed her. Frankenstein. He knew the movie. He didn't like it. Harry had seen it last at the Dursleys, and he, quite frankly, hadn't been big on a movie which showed someone creating a monster and then dying at the hands of the said monster he created. It was terrifying for him.

He didn't say anything, seeing Ginny's face. She was excited and happy, and seeing her like this made it a little more bearable for him, but he was positively miffed when he saw the monster being created and right on the edge of covering his face when it killed its first victim.

It was all well and good until he saw the man talk to the creature, and that was when he knew he was done.

"Ginny," he said breathlessly, "hey, Gin?" and as Ginny turned to him, he didn't know if he should have laughed or jumped around the living room thrice.

He turned his face in embarrassment, as Ginny looked at him and promptly started laughing, her laughter echoing in the room before Harry pressed his palm on her mouth and her voice was muffled. She quieted down, but he could see her glinting in the dimming light of the fire.

"Merlin, sorry," Ginny chuckled, "I shouldn't laugh."

He tensed again as the monster in question roared.

"Gin, this movie, it's really scary, seriously," he said quickly, "but you're enjoying it so I'm trying not to cover my face the whole time, but- WHAT IS THAT?"

"It's a classic!" Ginny laughed. "Merlin, Harry, take a chance. What harm can it do?"

"Oh, I took a chance. Fifteen years ago. I don't see how people find this," he pointed at the screen, "this scary, murderous movie where everyone dies as a cinematic masterpiece."

Ginny was still laughing and Harry's ears were now a bright red, and he couldn't have been more embarrassed.

When Ginny finally switched the T.V off, he couldn't help but sigh in relief.

"How," Ginny said and he shook his head, knowing what was to come, "can a person like you, who fights Death-Eaters on a daily basis, be scared of a movie?"

Harry tapped his forehead in exasperation and Ginny laughed.

"God, you're adorable."

She leaned forward, kissing him and then moving away, but Harry held onto her waist, bringing her close to him. Perhaps now was the right time to do it, he thought. Maybe he should take out the ring now.

There were only them here, she was in his arms, he could just take out the ring and ask.

But what if it was too early? What if she said no?

Harry looked at her, and Ginny leaned forward, her hands around her neck as she kissed him and Harry wondered how long it'd take for him to gather the courage he so direly needed. In a way, this was more daunting than the monster Frankenstein had created.

But then he heard a noise, a clicking noise, and a smell of something burning, and they broke off, Harry still holding Ginny close to him, alert for any signs of danger, when they saw it.

The socket was smoking. Bloody smoking.

"Shit!" Ginny cursed, and scrambled up, Harry behind her, and before Ginny could touch anything, Harry wrenched out the socket.

"Oh, shit," Ginny repeated, seeing the blackened metal. "Oh, Merlin, no."

"There goes our Frankenstein," Harry mumbled. And my proposal.

Ginny glared at him.

…

Christmas was every bit as wonderful as he had imagined it. As he had imagined it every year. No, the right word wasn't wonderful. It was happy.

Harry, by now, was convinced that Christmas was meant for the Weasley family.

A strong gust of wind blew and he smiled as he heard Ron's voice and then a cracker burst and then Mrs. Weasley yelling.

"Hey." He heard Ginny behind him and turned.

"Hey back."

"A change of colours, I see?" Ginny asked, looking at his sweater. Consciously, he tugged at it, then looked at her.

"I think Mrs. Weasley ran out of red yarn." He smiled, brushing the golden yellow snitch on the hem of his sweater. It was blue this year, and Harry had been surprised when he'd opened the package, but it had essentially been one of the best gifts he'd got.

Ginny walked near him, slipping her hands in his. They were hands which knew how to hold on and yet simultaneously set you free.

He was going to do it.

"Gin," he started, the weight of the ring in his pocket reassuring. "I have to ask you something."

She nodded and Harry continued. "I… I love you. It's no secret. I… you are… I love you so much. It was and has always been… you." He waited, out of breath, but he wasn't going to stop.

"You love me like I'm the person who actually deserves your love."

"But you are the only one who does," Ginny said, and Harry, for a moment, couldn't help but wonder what he'd done to deserve her.

Momentarily, he looked down, taking out the box, but when he looked up again, his eyes widened. This time, Ginny was holding a box too, identical to his, and her eyes were shining.

"What… h-how?" he stammered and Ginny laughed.

"How do you think?" she said, "Didn't think I'd know you were trying to propose to me for the last nine days now, Harry, did you?"

"It was supposed to be a secret!"

Ginny laughed, and Harry laughed too, though he was a bit disgruntled by the fact that she'd known the whole time. Maybe he wasn't as smooth as he thought he was but it was a mystery to him how she had known.

"Where did you find the ring the first time you lost it, Harry?"

Harry gaped at her, and chuckled unbelievably. "How?" he said, then chuckled again. "With Teddy."

"Yes, well, he showed it to me before he gave it to you. Clearly, he knew the ring was meant for me."

This time, Harry laughed out loud, and her hand still in his, he brought her closer to him.

"And if that wasn't enough, my hair being soft essentially gave it away," she said with a smirk.

Harry kissed her on the forehead, and then on the lips. He frowned as Ginny drew away, but it turned into a smile, as he saw her opening the box.

The ring inside was identical to his, the only difference being the vines running along its length. He took out his ring from the box, holding it beside hers, flowers and vines side by side.

When he looked up, Ginny's eyes were shining with tears. He knew his were, too.

"So," she said, "will you marry me?"

Harry laughed, and then gently put the ring on her middle finger.

"Only if you marry me, too."

And Ginny laughed, and cried, and he thought he did too and in the end when her lips collided with his, he knew it had been worth it.

In the end, he was glad he'd waited nine days.

...

#fanfiction #hinny after the war #ron being supportive best mate and brother #hinny #hinny fanfiction #fluff #romance #humour #harry potter #ginny weasley #ron weasley #george weasley #bill weasley #christmas #nine days #written for the quidditch league fanfiction competition #hinny proposal #harry/ginny

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pwarkluv · 4 years

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❝ let me adore you ❞ - hrj

huang renjun x reader | fluff | 1.8k words

WARNINGS | lowercase is intended, slight angst if you look hard enough, college au, friends to lovers au, non-idol au, like one curse word (in the story and in the author’s note so does that make it two?), mutual pining lol, unbelievably fluffy, whipped!renjun, artist!renjun, oblivious!reader and lowkey oblivious!renjun because would it be a f2l without that?

SUMMARY | when you’re his perfect model and the girl he’s been crushing on for the past three years but we don’t talk about that.

AUTHOR’S NOTE | inspired by “adore you” by harry styles. i thought this would fit for this idea hehe :P but don’t get me wrong, renjun would be a little shit as your best friend (even though he loves likes you) but there are moments where he absolutely adores you such as this.

you were completely engrossed into the book you were reading, head laying on renjun’s lap as you two settled on his bed in his college dorm. one hand was softly caressing your head while the other held a pencil in his hand, sketching the finer details of the model he’s sketching.

his model.

his fingers rushed to capture each expression, nose scrunch, and gasp you took as the plot progressed, shocked at the turn of events in the storyline.

❝ i get so lost inside your eyes, would you believe it❞

the way your eyes scanned each line, the vibrant color it held, and the fire behind it as you approached the climax of the story. renjun was mesmerized.

your eyes were one of the hardest things for renjun to draw accurately, for he never liked how it looked. he just always thought that it never looked right.

however whenever he shows you one of the (many) portraits he’s made of you, you’d always reassure him saying it was a literal copy of your face which somewhat eases his worries.

renjun couldn’t tell when he first fell for his best friend.

ironic isn’t it?

the lonely art kid just so happens to fall for the only girl he’s ever been friends with, the only girl he’s ever felt so at home with. just one day he woke up and saw you only to realize you were his whole world.

it was a little scary to be honest. he has never felt anything like this for anybody before. yeah there was the love he felt for his handful of friends, the love he felt for his parents, the love he felt for art.

but his love for you? it was a much stronger and intense feeling than his love for all those things. in his heart, you were everything.

❝ you don’t have to say you love me, you don’t have to say nothing ❞

but he couldn’t tell if you liked him back, let alone love him.

he couldn’t tell if the way you held his hand in your sleep whenever he drives you two back home from the school library, was something platonic or was your way of showing your feelings towards him.

he couldn’t tell if the fond look he sometimes catches you give him whenever he laughs was because he was your best friend or because you genuinely loved his laugh.

he couldn’t tell if the reason you always act a little distant whenever you spot him talking to the girl he’s tutoring was because you were jealous or something else.

and it killed him not knowing. it killed him having to act like some platonic close best friend when all he wants to do is kiss you.

❝ you don’t have to say you’re mine ❞

you’ve had a crush on renjun even before you two became friends.

you remember seeing him back at your high school, always in towards the back of his friend group. you remember how ethereal he looked whenever he was focused on one of his drawings, his tongue poking out a bit as he struggled to perfect a small detail.

you remember the day you became friends, how flustered both of you were. for him it was because he was talking to a girl and for you, it was because you were talking to the boy you’ve been staring at for the past eight months.

you weren’t watching where you were going and bumped into renjun, his hot coffee spilling all over your chest and lowkey leaving a small burn. his eyes widened in shock before becoming an apologizing mess. from then you guys hit it off.

you two then graduated and surprisingly went to the same college where you were now as best friends.

best friend

the two words sounded bitter in your mind and you hated knowing he wasn’t yours. you hated knowing he might fall for another girl and then he won’t be around you as much. you hated it.

but what you hated the most was not knowing how he felt. much like renjun (though you don’t know that), you could never tell if the sweet gestures were because he was your best friend or because he liked you.

you tried being obvious. you always hold his hand whenever he sleeps over, you always make sure he sees you staring at his beautiful face at least once or twice a week (you’re not that bold), you always try to make it known how painfully jealous you were whenever you saw him and that girl talking in the halls.

does he buy your favorite snack every morning before you meet up to walk to school because you were that good of friends or because he felt something for you?

does he call you beautiful whenever he draws you as a friend or as a lover?

does he always cuddle with you during your annual friday movie nights as a platonic thing or because he liked the feeling of you being in his arms. you sure did. being in his embrace, all snuggled up was what made you feel at home.

❝ honey, i’d walk through fire for you ❞

renjun then focused on your lips, his favorite thing about you as a person and his favorite thing to draw. whether it be portraits of you or just your lips in general, it always made an appearance in his sketchbook.

renjun dreams of them, wanting to know how they felt against his. wanting to know if they were really as soft as they looked, wanting to know what your cherry lip balm taste like.

his heart quadrupled in size as he watched you pout, clearly reading the sad part of your book. renjun had to stop himself from chuckling a bit to not disturb you, to not disturb the beauty. his hand was still running through your hair and you hummed a bit, leaning into his touch to let him know it felt nice.

renjun forced himself to look away, trying to not go red at how adorable you were. blinking rapidly, he focused his attention back to his drawing in an attempt to sketch out the layout of your mouth.

he was doing well until all of a sudden he heard a sniffle.

“y/n are you oka-”

you bursted out in tears, quickly sitting up from your position as renjun panicked.

he cupped your face in his hands, worry evident in his look as he saw the tears flowing down your cheeks.

“y/n, baby, are you okay? what happened?” renjun asked worryingly, his drawing long forgotten on the other side of his bed.

you shook your head and pushed it towards the crook of his neck, finding comfort in it. renjun forced his heart to beat normally as he focused his attention on you.

not knowing what to say he immediately wraps one arm around your waist and the other on your hair as he pushes you to sit on his lap, letting you cry out whatever the hell just happened. his hand soothingly stroked your hair, wanting you to calm down.

so you cried. you cried for a good five minutes on renjun’s lap, wanting nothing more than his warmth and loving embrace as your mind thought about the ending of that book.

after you let it out, you quickly felt embarrassed and turned red as you lifted your head from his neck, not wanting to look at the clearly worried boy you’re sitting on.

you pushed yourself out of his lap but his firm grip on your waist kept you in place. you already knew he was gonna demand some answers as you placed your hands on your face in an attempt to hide yourself.

“are you good? you had me very worried over there.” renjun’s free hand went to move your hands from your face as you fought back, chuckling a bit at how red you’ve gotten.

you whined a bit as an answer, wanting nothing more than to disappear off the face of the earth. you literally just had a mental breakdown over the ending of a book in front of the dude you’ve liked since your second year of high school.

“y/nnie that’s not an answer~” renjun teased, happy to see the tears no longer on your face.

though he didn’t show it, his heart broke at your sad expression and malfunctioned a bit, not knowing what to do. he only hugged you and stroked your hair because that’s what he saw in those soap dramas he and his grandmother used to watch as a kid.

his hand went up to your face again, successfully removing your hands. “now tell me what’s wrong princess.”

renjun didn’t know where this sudden confidence came from, calling you two nicknames in the span of ten minutes. but seeing you flush in response all the more fueled it.

your heart sped up at the nickname but you cleared your throat as you whined a bit.

“but you’ll laugh at me junnie!” you pouted, poking back at him by calling him a nickname as well.

renjun’s eyes widened at the sudden jab but laughed it off because of your cute pout. your lips were all he could think about.

now’s not the time renjun, he mentally scolded himself as he reassured you he wouldn’t laugh.

your glossy eyes met his as you explained.

“he fucking died jun, he died!” you cried out, face going back to his neck as renjun stiffened in shock.

you were crying because a character died?

he couldn’t help but laugh as his arms came back to your waist to engulf you in a hug, laying you both down a bit as he laughed.

you could feel the vibrations of his laugh since you were on his chest which caused you to hit him on the arm in embarrassment.

“you’re so mean to me.” you huffed, refusing to look at the boy you were on. you once again attempted to get off his lap but renjun was quick to tickle you as a defense.

“it’s cause you’re too cute y/n!” he chuckled as you squirmed on his bed, laugh talking and begging him to show mercy on you.

“renjunnie no no i’m sorry!” you laughed out as you wiggled on the foot of the bed, arms failing at protecting your middle from renjun’s evil fingers.

the boy looked at you with an evil glint as he continued to tickle you, watching in amusement at your feeble attempts to stop him.

you suddenly pulled him down, causing him to land right in front of you, his arms keeping him stable from falling on your face.

you two froze, lost in each other’s eyes. the close proximity between you the two of you both made your hearts race and in the spur of the moment renjun asked, “can i kiss you?”

❝ just let me adore you ❞

you nodded and leaned up a bit to meet him in the middle as renjun finally learned the answers to all his questions.

for your information, yes your lips were as soft as he thought.

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youcouldmakealife · 4 years

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SOTW: Bryce/Jared, Elaine; celebratory mood

And now that we’ve all had a few hours to read the latest part of IJ(aoe), here’s the story of the week, for the prompt: Bryce and Jared just being cute and domestic

This takes place early in the latest part of IJ(aoe), and is summed up in three sentences there, Jared simply stating he gets to have a chill day with Bryce and Elaine.

From a ‘hurryuphurryupSTRATEGYSESSIONquickquickquick’ pace (the last part spans approximately two months) it didn’t make sense to have this as a full scene, so thanks to this prompt, Bryce and Jared can celebrate a first round win and get laid before Playoff Willy comes in to be all Playoff Willy.

Jared wakes up at ten-forty five — the latest he’s gotten up since the postseason started — to a kiss to the forehead, a cup of coffee handed to him, the immediate awareness that the Nucks did it, they’ve got at least another round to battle through. As ways to wake up go, it’s pretty fucking great.

“Didn’t want you to mess up your schedule,” Bryce says. “But if you want to go back to sleep—”

“Nah,” Jared yawns. “Thanks.”

Jared takes quick shower, goes to get more coffee, and finds Bryce and Elaine in a very messy, disorganized kitchen. It did not look like that when Jared got back from Oakland last night.

“We’re making you a celebration brunch!” Elaine says.

That is very sweet, but the problem with that is that neither Elaine nor Bryce is a very good cook; Bryce just doesn’t bother, so Jared’s the cook when they’re together, and when Jared’s gone Bryce does a mix of delivery and a meal service that follows his nutrition plan. In Vancouver it’s also been a mix of delivery and a meal service that follows Jared’s, when Jared isn’t cooking for him and Elaine.

Jared tries to think of a nice way to salvage breakfast without offending either of them. “Can I help?” he lands on.

“Oh but it’s for you,” Elaine protests, but Bryce just says, “Sure,” and Jared takes over egg and turkey bacon duty and sets them on toasting and buttering and cutting up fruit, Elaine deciding to give herself an extra duty, pouring them sparkling wine and orange juice.

“It’s not even noon,” Jared protests.

“You have the day off,” Elaine says. “Celebrate!”

There’s something about alcohol with breakfast that hits Jared very differently than alcohol with dinner. And even then he knows he’s a lightweight, but it’s very much magnified after two mimosas that went straight to his head. He feels very — tingly, and also Bryce, on his laptop at the end of the bed, is too far from him. Jared would preferably like Bryce on top of him. Or under him. Or beside him. Just closer.

Some of that leaves his mouth.

“You’re drunk,” Bryce says, sounding delighted about it.

“I’m tipsy,” Jared says. “C’mere.”

Bryce, obedient as always, lets Jared drag him on top of him.

There is maybe some slightly drunk — okay yes, Jared is drunk, whatever — and possibly a little giggly making out, which turns into slightly drunk and still giggly handsiness, and Jared hopes Elaine didn’t come upstairs at any point because the handsiness ends exactly where you’d expect, with some very pleasant sex and an equally pleasant nap.

Jared wakes up a little dry-mouthed, headache-y, a bottle of Gatorade already on his bedside table, like Bryce maybe did as well, or at least has more experience in this department. He chugs it, goes to find his husband, who’s sitting at the kitchen table with Elaine, scrolling through Skip the Dishes trying to figure out what to order for dinner, the Marcuses all done with that cooking business now.

Jared hooks his chin over Bryce’s shoulder, adds his two cents — he wants something substantial, he feels like skin and bones right now, the grind of the season working him down to his rookie weight. They get complete junk food and eat it in front of a movie Jared half watches — it’s one of Elaine’s favourites, and Jared and Elaine do not have the same taste in movies — and Jared would feel a little guilty about it if it didn’t taste so damn good. Whatever. He needs the calories.

“Hey,” Bryce says when Jared steals a few fries — he didn’t order any, and Bryce, who’s taking a few weeks off before he even considers summer training, gets to ignore his diet a bit — and then, completely undermining himself, tips the fries closer so they’re easier to steal.

Jared does not deserve this man.

He glances over at Elaine, wrapped up in her movie, tucks his cheek against Bryce’s shoulder, stealing a couple more fries before he settles in, comfortable, dozes through the rest of the movie — playoffs are exhausting — waking up, again, to a kiss on the forehead before Bryce nudges him up to bed.

#fic snippet #SOTW #jared matheson #bryce marcus

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blushing-starker · 4 years

Note

hiii darling!! saw you were a bit desperate for smth sweet and good so!!💗💗

i’ve sent this prompt to jae before, but i still adore the idea of little peter being in daycare and developing a fever! and daddy tony brings him to daddy stephens practice where he works as a family doctor. and so lil peter gets examined by his own daddy and cries in the cutest and most heart aching way when dada gives him an injection to bring down his fever🥺🌡

but tony comforts him of course!

“dada had to do that so you’ll feel better, baby.”

“i’ll see you later today at home, petey. i’ll bring you something yummy from the store, okay? now, go along with papa and cuddle loads with him till i get back home. that’s doctor dada’s orders.” - raf🐇

here you go! The first part while I crank out the second part. I know you read it already but I wanted to at least post it. Thanks for sending me the ask dear! I really appreciate it! 💓

It starts on Monday in the sandbox during recess. Peter doesn't really hang out in the small park right next to the classroom, prefers the cool temperature of the library where Miss Maria often turns a blind eye to his antics involving a screwdriver and the dismantling of any electronic device he and Ned can get their hands on. MJ, just a year older, is halfway sure the librarian purposely leaves old toys on the lowest shelf, but she isn't a snitch and it's, don't tell anyone though, fun to spend time watching the two boys figure out a way to pry open clocks.

His daddies are overjoyed their boy is like them, enamoured by how things work and how they could improve such things with the minimum of resources. In fact, Tony cried while talking over the phone with his mother, eager to tell Maria how her grandson replaced the wheel of a car the daycare was about to throw out in a few days. Peter, ever vigilant, had run to his daddy, afraid he was hurt or sad. He'd thrust the car into Tony's hand to make him feel better and Stephen's absolutely ridiculous husband sobbed harder while nearly suffocating their child in a hug. Maria sent Tony's old engineering kit from when he was a child and their Kleenex ran out the minute Peter wandered over to poke at it.

Stephen shouldn't tease Tony too much. After all, the doctor spent more time bragging about his little boy's intelligence than he did discussing his patients’ conditions. And maybe, just maybe, he sobbed in the bathroom when Ned came for a sleepover and loudly proclaimed his best friend had comforted another classmate when they fell and hurt their knee. Apparently, Peter had sent Ned to warn Miss Wanda while he calmly explained that all they had to do was elevate the area, clean with soap, wrap a Hello Kitty bandaid on the wound, get ice on it and be attentive to any signs of fever.

The whole thing was exactly, word for word, what Stephen had told Peter when his boy tripped on the sidewalk and roughed up a knee. Tony found him sniffling while cleaning out old anatomy books that suspiciously appeared in Pete's bedroom the next day.

They don't talk about it. But now the whole family has a bet on what the young boy's profession will be.

Yes, his daddies are happy he's shown an interest in their fields of study. Yes, they want him to explore and learn and have fun with different subjects. Thing is, they also know how important it is for a child to go outside and play with others. An intake of vitamin D was very good for a growing boy.

(That's bull, they would have gladly given ten thousand toys to Maria Hill for her to leave around the library so the trio could dismantle them. But then Miss Wanda cornered them in the hall and told them that no, Peter also needs a bit of sun and some interactions with people besides Ned, MJ and Shuri, a girl from another group who also liked the library. They begrudgingly agreed.)

So Monday morning after waffles drenched with too much syrup Stephen chooses to ignore are devoured by two sets of grabby hands, Peter’s daddies gently suggest he spend a few minutes playing outside with the others.

Peter pauses, screwdriver in midair and toy car set down on the table with careful movements. There's a little furrow between his brows, so identical to Stephen's that Tony wants to kiss both his boys for being the cutest people in the world. He refrains from doing so because ‘Peter needs to know when we're being serious, Tony, and that means no kisses during serious conversations’.

“Have,” oh no, their boy is chewing his lip, abort mission, abort, “have I been bad, dadas?”

Tony accidentally rams his elbow into his husband's ribs when pouncing on Peter and Stephen is very close to considering divorce. “No! No, baby, you've been good all month. Promise. Daddy and dada just want you to get a bit of sun, play around with the others for a few minutes and then sneak off into the library.”

“ Tony, that isn't what we agreed, oh Christ. “ This elbow jab was on purpose. Stephen stumbles out his chair, muffles the curse words against the kitchen counter while his horrible partner cradles Pete's face and presses kisses all over the boy desperately trying not to stab his daddy with the screwdriver.

“Don't listen to dada, you can spend five minutes out and then visit Miss Hill.”

“ Who? “ That scrunch is back and Tony loves Peter more than anything in the world. Well. No, he loves kissing Peter more than anything in the world. The boy giggles, reciprocates as much as he can until Tony cheats and tickles soft skin under a cotton sweater.

“Miss Maria, Tony. They call her by her first name instead of the last name. I'm getting some ice. Jesus, do you sharpen that thing?”

------

He can be a good boy. He's a good boy. Five minutes outside. Peter can be outside while Ned’s in the bathroom and MJ heats up her lunch for the day.

(Ned and Pete had the daycare mac and cheese; their bestie preferred homemade pizza.)

It's not that he dislikes the park; it's a cool park! There are slides and hiding spots and swings and trees for shade and the wheel that they're only allowed to be on if the teacher's controlling the speed. But the library is always slightly cold and full of adventure.

Sometimes they read a Star Wars book series laid on the floor in a circle with blankets and pillows Miss Maria brings them. If the trio feels tired, Shuri invites them over to the movie area her friends have set up with Disney films queued up. When their spirits are higher, electronics prepare to be dismantled.

Still. He can be good. And, besides Flash who doesn't really get along with him, all of Peter's classmates are nice and fun. The only problem is where to spend, Loki!

Peter runs to the sandbox, jumps over the bridge to a slightly odd looking Loki that's waving his hands in a general ‘no, don't run at me, slow down’ motion. He's too excited to not tackle the teenager that helps Miss Wanda during recess by entertaining twenty kids with wild tales full of magic and wonder.

Hands that never warm up that much immediately curl around a small body and there's a weakened chuckle buried in Peter's fluffy hair. “Hello, little puppy. Odd seeing you without your two companions. Odd seeing you at all, really, since that cute nose of yours is always buried in a toy or book.”

Pete smashes his face into a soft shirt, loves how safe Loki makes him feel with his hugs and hair ruffling. He likes Thor, too, although he prefers the younger brother a lot more. Which Stephen says is a bit unfair since the only reason Thor can't hang out with him as much as Loki does is because the blonde trains during recess with Sif and the others in the wrestling team.

Loki can change his voice a lot; a gift very few have, Peter's grandma once mentioned, and even fewer people use it well. Miss Wanda tries to take them to all the school plays so they can cheer on the others and break routine, but the first graders are very adamant on which theatre kid they love most. Thor's brother could paint the air and make even the most boring speech exciting to hear. Peter was obsessed, dragged his daddies to every play Loki was in and pleaded for a picture afterward. Not that he had to ask for long; the youngest of three would often take multiple shots with Peter before anyone else could even come close to him.

You could say Pete was Loki's number one fan. Which meant he knew how to distinguish between Loki's voices. After the face smashing ritual, he peeled away to squint at cheeks too pale and eyes too red. Relatively tiny fists curled around black cloth.

“Are you hurt, Loki?”

“Not at all, sweet puppy. I'm just sick. Thor and I went back home on Saturday and we seem to have caught a cold. Which is why it's probably better you don't stand so close, wouldn't want you getting sick. My parents decided we should stay home, but I left one of my books here, the one about Viking stories, remember, last Friday and came to pick it up. “

He remembers the book, a heavy thing with a leather cover and wolves drawn on pale paper every few pages. The story about Thor dressing up and tricking the giants is Peter's favorite. Imagining his Thor wear a bride's veil tends to make him giggle.

“So I can't have a kiss?” He pouts, peers at Loki through dark eyelashes, even wobbles a pink lip when it looks like he won't get what he wants. It works as soon as tears cloud his eyes. Like daddy, like son.

The teen sighs, leans down to plant a single kiss on Peter's forehead when a classmate nearby falls into the pit, sand goes up Loki's nose and the dark haired boy sneezes all over Peter.

-------

It takes an hour for him to start sniffling and complain about cotton in his head. Thirty minutes after that, Ned catches him wiping a runny nose with a sleeve. Said sleeve is completely drenched in less than a class’ duration. Miss Wanda calls Tony in to pick his boy up during a midday meeting he couldn't care less about as soon as the teacher says ‘it looks like a cold and he shows symptoms of a fever’.

He probably breaks ten driving laws in the span of fifteen minutes, but that's insignificant when you're friends with Mayor Rogers and your husband fixes up the arm of one Mr Rogers-Buchanan. Tony crashes into the principal's office, deflates with relief when he sees principal Fury teaching Peter how to unscrew a cabinet infamous for being creaky.

“And now I spray a little oil so it doesn't make the weird noises?”

“ That's right, now we take the can, spray just a tiny bit, like I showed you, that's good. Remember to always have a paper towel nearby in case it drips. Those are some very nice pants you have on and I'd hate to see them stained. “ Peter sticks his tongue out, carefully dabs under the oiled up hinge, motions a fond looking Fury to hand him the screwdriver, and gets to work.

Tony leans against the doorway, shushes his friend and Peter's godmother, Nat, when she comes in with coffee for Fury. They stay there, take it all in and realize Pete's growing up. They also realize they might win the bet.

“Ow! Gosh darn it, pinched my finger while getting the cabinet adjusted.” Fury sucks his finger, is probably running through much darker curse words in his head when Peter gently plucks his finger out and presses it against the cold side of a water bottle Miss Wanda most likely gave him to help the fever.

“Ice helps the inflammation, principal Fury. If it doesn't go down, and I don't think it will cuz this is just cold and doesn't have any ice in it, you should eat a snack and take some medicine. “ Tony swears he's never seen Fury more proud or pleased than in that moment.

“Your daddy tell you that, Peter?’

“ Oh no, sir. Daddy can't really, uh, his mind is too busy thinking about building robot bodies to think about human bodies. Don't tell anyone, but grandma says she saw him put butter on his elbow after he knocked it on the door. “

“Really? How old was he? Maybe he was small and didn't know any better.”

“ That was last week, principal Fury. Dada's the one that taught me all about the human body. Daddy couldn't figure out our medicine cabinet with an instructions manual and a Youtube tutorial. “

Tony clears his throat while Fury’s busy howling against the carpeted floor and Natasha cackles on her way to the infirmary.

“Hey, baby. Daddy's here to take you to dada’s.”

#peter parker #tony stark #stephen strange #ironstrange #starkerstrange #little!peter #daddy!tony #dada!stephen #awesome facial bros #my writing #rafni bunny

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vikingsarememes · 5 years

Text

Pairing: Y/N x Ragnarssons

summary: you and your mother are visiting her best friend Aslaug in her country house as a Christmas tradition! you get reunited with your childhood friends; Ubbe, Hvitserk, Sigurd and Ivar, too many good memories and they’re definitely more dramatic than you remember

warnings: light bullying

word count: 2712

A/N: this is a little messy but hopefully it will lighten up your holidays! requests are pretty open so feel free to do that, but nothing smutty though, I personally believe I’ll suck at writing smut, oh and Merry Christmas!

Your mother and Aslaug Lothbrok had been friends ever since you could remember, you were raised with ِAslaug’s boys as one of them, you were treated as a family, your father died when you were an infant while Aslaug’s husband disappeared shortly after her youngest son was born, Christmas was a lonely time for both women, that’s why they made it a tradition to celebrate it together even though time sent each in a different path.

Every year, you’d speed a weekend at the Lothbrok’s country house, all the boys would fly and drop whatever they were doing and go there, and this year was no different.

You and mother arrived, knocked on the door, Aslaug was the one to open it, she immediately greeted you both with a hug “Elvi! My dearest friend, you are finally here! Y/N! Look at you! You grew into becoming such a lovely woman! Come in, your rooms are ready if you want to rest and the boys are already here” she announced after both of you entered the house, Aslaug was ridiculously rich, and the country house showed that well.

Aslaug and your mother instantly ignored your existence and headed to the kitchen to catch up with each other, while you put your bags aside then headed to the living room, where you could hear loud screams, laughter, and noises, once you set a foot in the room, it went soundless, the four boys looked at you as if they saw a ghost, “uh… Hi?” you said uncertain of their reaction.

“Y/N?” Ubbe asked confused, perhaps a year could change someone more than they think “of course it’s Y/N! Who else could make us go quiet like that” Hvitserk rolled his eyes and got up, he walked to you and hugged you “it’s been so long! We almost forgot you existed” he chuckled and his brothers followed, hugging you one after another, welcoming you among them “excuse us for not recognizing you, last year you had glasses on and braces!” Ubbe clarified and you rolled your eyes “thank you for reminding me Ubbe” you scoffed.

You sat down on one of the empty couches “so… Y/N tell us! How’s New York treating you?” Ivar asked curiously “very well, I’m a photographer for TIMES magazine now, and things are great, I love the city, it’s not as beautiful as it is here, not as calm but it has its own beauty, you guys should visit me there someday! I’ll take you to my favorite spots and introduce you to amazing people!” you beamed “any boys we should beat?” Sigurd grinned “No, unless you count my colleague Karan, he’s an asshole, but other than that, I’m as single as I could ever be” you explained, Ivar laughed, while his brothers looked at each other as if they just heard that they were nominated for an award.

֎֎֎֎֎֎֎֎֎֎

Aslaug called you in as her and your mother prepared a table, it was time for dinner, the five of you took your usual seats, the ones that were decided ever since you were children, Aslaug and your mother excelled themselves this year; turkey, pumpkin pie, ham, a feast made for ten at least, you wondered how you’d finish all the food but then Hvitserk started eating.

Small talks filled the air, mostly your mother asking about the boys’ life now, Ubbe’s been married to a woman named Margrethe, she ran away and returned after many months but he divorced her, Hvitserk had been the same player he is, Sigurd was discreet, no one knew what’s new with him, and Ivar moved out of his mother’s house and he’s seeing a physician to treat his ongoing condition, he can walk now, with the use of crutches, of course, last time you saw him he used a wheelchair.

“And this woman, she knocked on my door in the middle of the night and stripped! She said she wanted to get back at her ex! I closed the door and went back to eating the chicken legs on the bed!” Hvitserk exclaimed the others laughed, Aslaug and your mother seemed more interested in whispering between the two of them.

“It’s so unlike you to refuse a woman brother!” Ivar noted as he picked a piece of turkey meat in his fork and ate it “I love women, yes, but no one can interrupt my binge eating after midnight on a weekend! It’s the holy laws of my household, besides, there will be next times, don’t worry about me, I’m quite charming” he smirked and sipped some wine.

“Excuse Ivar, he’s nineteen and hadn’t gotten laid yet, he doesn’t possibly understand pussies can be replaced” Sigurd mocked, everyone but Ivar laughed and with that, you knew it wasn’t a dinner anymore, it was a warzone “I doubt you know more than I do Sigurd” Ivar responded, he was angry you could tell, even if he hid it well behind a calm tone and a fake smile.

“I know my dick works, can you say the same?” Sigurd replied, seeming offended by Ivar “Jesus Christ Sigurd! Enough! we’re trying to eat!” Ubbe finally said and their little conversation died like that, an awkward silence fell upon the table, besides the whispers of your mothers of course.

֎֎֎֎֎֎֎֎֎֎

The five of you decided to sit and watch a movie, like the good old days when you used to be children, it was night and you were bored, after all, Hvitserk brought a popcorn bowl for everyone, Sigurd took responsibility for the drinks, while Ivar set up the movies mode on the television while you and Ubbe brought the blankets and pillows for everyone.

“We are not watching Ready or Not Ivar! It’s Christmas! We will watch a Christmas movie!” Ubbe bickered, “just because its Christmas doesn’t mean we have to watch some romantic bullshit with tacky writing!” Ivar protested “I thought we were watching a comedy” Hvitserk pouted, “we agreed we’ll watch a musical!” Sigurd said annoyed.

With that everyone started arguing and screaming at each other, as much as you love these boys, you hated it when that happens, you took a deep breath then whistled, grabbing everyone’s attention “we’ll watch the lion king, and that’s final, it has horror aka Scar, Comedy aka Timon and Bomba, Romance Simba and Nala, and of course amazing music!” you listed and didn’t wait for anyone to complain, one thing you remember clearly about the boys, they’d leave their differences aside for a good Disney Classical gem.

No one said anything during the film, all of you were so concentrated, and even though you saw the movie thousands of times, you all cried at the sad parts, laughed at the funny parts, and awed at the lovely parts, Hvitserk finished his popcorn before the end of the first half, he then started stealing from everyone else’s, you ended up sharing yours with him since you couldn’t really finish it by your own, it only made him last for another thirty minutes.

֎֎֎֎֎֎֎֎֎֎

After the movie was over, and the crying had stopped, you all decided to revive an old Christmas ritual of yours, which is playing spin the bottle, thanks to Hvitserk you already had an empty bottle to spin, the five of you sat in a circle, and Ubbe span it first.

The bottle’s neck stopped on Sigurd and the bottom on Ubbe, Ubbe was to ask, and if the person didn’t want to answer they must drink a shot of vodka that was already prepared by you, Ubbe snickered a little “Sigurd, my little brother! What should I ask you?” he said thinking, even though part of you suspected he already had something in mind “Sigurd when will you bring us a man to the house?” Ubbe asked with a wicked smirk, rumors have it, Sigurd was gay but no one can confirm it “why? You’re not man yourself you need a manlier man?” Sigurd replied playing dumb “he’s asking whether you are gay or not” Ivar jumped, Sigurd rolled his eyes and took a shot.

Next, it was you and Hvitserk, your turn to ask him “how is it even possible that you don’t get fat? You eat so much!” you said “is this a question or a personal assault?” he frowned “a question man! I need your diet tips” you answered “well, I move a lot usually, not now but back in my place it’s not rare to see me running around the house screaming at three in the morning, I just move a lot, also sex helps lose weight” he shrugged.

Later it was Sigurd and Ivar “how come you’re a spoiled brat at the age of nineteen?” Sigurd asked him, mainly to piss him off “because mother was disappointed enough by the time I was born and she wanted to make sure I wouldn’t end up an annoying turd like you” he replied with a grin on his face that declares he won this round of sarcasm.

“Ubbe, tell us, who’s the mysterious woman you’ve been texting whenever you had a chance?” Hvitserk asked when it was his turn to ask a question “oh, it’s no mysterious woman, it’s Torvi, we are sending dog memes to each other” he responded “Bjorn’s Torvi?” you asked shocked, almost as shocked as everyone, the four of you exchanged a look, Ubbe looked at you all confused, letting a what but no one answered.

And for the final spin, it was Ivar’s turn to ask you a question “Y/N, tell us, now that you are a lovely grown woman, which one of us would you rather date if you have a chance?” he asked with a prying look on his face “well Ivar, you are mean, Hvitserk’s head on the cloud all the time, Sigurd is basically a bully, Ubbe is too old for me, so that leaves me with no one unless you guys have a secret ideal brother?” you grinned, the four boys were left speechless.

֎֎֎֎֎֎֎֎֎֎

You all agreed to ditch the rooms and have a sleepover in front of the TV, you agreed on watching Lilo and Stitch’s two movies until you fall asleep, Sigurd and Ivar went upstairs to their rooms to grab few things, Ivar hated the stairs, you know that cause he kept cursing with every few steps he took, you also heard the sound of something falling but no one really paid any attention.

Later, the blue-eyed rascal returned, holding a blanket and another pillow, with a big grin on his face “why are you smiling?” you asked as you were the first to notice something was up, “what? Can’t I be happy for a change?” he replied, he can of course, but you were familiar with this mischievous smile too well “no, not really, what’s up?”

“I just saw Sigurd roll down the stairs” he chuckled, his brothers looked at him as if it was the most normal thing ever, Ubbe quickly got up and went to check on Sigurd while Hvitserk just sighed and focused on the screen instead.

“You bastard! What’s wrong with you? I told you to hold me!” a shouting, angry, injured Sigurd stormed in “I can’t, I’m nothing but a useless cripple remember?” Ivar said giving him the most innocent look ever while Sigurd glared at him non stop.

֎֎֎֎֎֎֎֎֎֎

You were the first to wake up, you went to the kitchen and prepared coffee for yourself and everyone else, Ivar followed next, the two of you sat and ate your breakfast together, it was quite nice, Ivar was a nice guy when his brothers weren’t around.

“So… tell me about the physical therapy, is it actually working?” you asked, he nodded “yes, it’s extreme though, I thought I’ve experienced all kind of pain but apparently I’m wrong, nothing is more painful than taking your first step, I could hear my bones cracking, that’s why the physician had to give me those braces and stings attaching my bones together” he explained, Ivar was okay to tell you about this kind of things, he trusted you enough to know he’s in pain.

“I’m sorry you had to go through this,” you said comforting “it’s alright, I can walk now and It’s not as painful as it used to be, I’m almost numb in the legs anyways unless I try to use them” he shrugged, Sigurd woke up next, he came to the kitchen and poured himself coffee in his mug, he took few sips “numb in the leg you say?” he snickered and spilled the rest of his coffee on Ivar’s leg, Ivar didn’t say much but you knew this hurt from his facial expressions even though he was hiding it well.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you shouted and ran to Ivar, helping him get up “what? He feels nothing! He said it himself!” Sigurd bickered “you can be such an asshole sometimes” you muttered and then you took Ivar to the downstairs bathroom, helping him clean up.

The skin was red from the heat, you reached for the first aid box in the mirrored cabin and treated his burn “I’m okay Y/N, you can stop worrying” he mumbled, you rolled your eyes “you’re welcome” you said sarcastically.

֎֎֎֎֎֎֎֎֎֎

You spent the whole day playing video games, or watching the Lothbroks play video games, or fight over video games, all but Ubbe who was deep in his phone, after a while, Hvitserk decided he’d lay his head on your lap and play sims on his phone instead, so it was only Ivar and Sigurd and you knew this would escalate sooner than it should.

“Would you play with my hair? I’ll share my stash with you” Hvitserk suggested, you nodded and started playing with his blond braids, he enjoyed it, then you decided it would be for the best to ignore Ivar and Sigurd this time, and get involved with the elder brothers.

“Why didn’t Bjorn and Torvi come?” you finally asked Ubbe, he shrugged, “Torvi says Assa is sick, that’s why they can’t make it on the road, Bjorn thinks it’s best to skip and go to Lagartha’s this year instead, it’s closer” you were really looking forward to meeting Bjorn, you weren’t very close but he was eye candy, you had a crush on him growing up.

Nothing serious but you simply liked looking at him, Ubbe knew, he’d always teased you about it, but this time he didn’t, he knew you’d tease him about Torvi if he does.

֎֎֎֎֎֎֎֎֎֎

“For christ’s sake, Hvitserk slow down on eating! This is no manners!” Aslaug shouted in the middle of the lunch after her son ate his second plate “I’m hungry” he protested, “maybe if you ate slower, you wouldn’t be this hungry!” she argued “oh come on Aslaug! Let the poor boy eat, he’s a developing boy!” your mother giggled “he’s twenty-five, he passed the level of being a developing boy instead he’s a food monster!” the two women laughed.

Hvitserk brushed them off and moved to the dessert instead, your mother’s famous krumkake, one that no one could resist or hate.

Ivar and Sigurd exchanged hateful glances every now and then, but they didn’t say a word to each other.

֎֎֎֎֎֎֎֎֎֎

You and your mother decided to leave in the evening, your brother, Havard was visiting tomorrow with his wife and two children, so you had to be home to prepare a meal and gifts, your mother and Aslaug spent what seemed like forever saying goodbyes, the uber driver hated you both for the delay.

The brothers said their farewells, already missing you, you invited them to your photography exhibition next month, you thought it would be a good idea for them to see your city, especially since they thought New York was nothing more than trash, they all promised to come.

You both got into the car and the man drove you to the airport “It was good seeing them no?” your mother asked, you were looking through the window, you wanted to stay there longer but your stupid brother had to ruin this for you “it was” you mumbled.

tags: @youbloodymadgenius

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aaniiki · 4 years

Text

Something I wrote for @jimmyneutronfan4life I’m realizing how horribly out of practice I am, but I hope you still like it. I used some of my own headcanons.

Rating: K Word Count: 3182 Pairing: Jimmick

Nick kicked his skateboard up and caught it in his hands as he reached the end of Jimmy’s driveway. The sun had just begun to set and cast an orange hue over the neighborhood. He exhaled sharply as he walked up to the door, giving a quick look around the area to see if anyone was around, stopping momentarily at Cindy Vortex’s bedroom window. She was nosy. If she saw him there, she would surely ask about it the next day. Luckily for him, her curtains were drawn shut and her house seemed silent. He knocked a few times on the front door and waited for what seemed far too long until it was opened for him.

“Oh, Nick.” Jimmy stood in the doorway, a plate of food in hand and dressed in comfy sweats. He seemed momentarily confused until a light sparked behind his eyes in realization. “I’m sorry, I lost track on time. Come in.” He stepped aside, allowing Nick to cross through the doorway and into his home.

Nick looked around. Funny, he hadn’t stepped foot in Jimmy Neutron’s home since that party he’d thrown when they were in elementary school. As far as he could remember, not much had changed. “I’m glad you made it.” Jimmy spoke up behind him.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” Nick asked with a chuckle, leaning his skateboard up against the wall beside the door. Jimmy said nothing, just smiled softly. At that moment Nick realized the house otherwise seemed lifeless. “Your parents are out?”

Jimmy took a bite of the food he was holding. “Date night,” he answered. “They left right before you showed up. Gotta keep the romance alive, I guess.” He finished with a swallow.

“I guess.” Nick repeated. He actually thought that was kind of sweet. His parents didn’t do things like that, at least as far as he knew. They were just content with each other’s company, but that was about it.

“I’m sorry, do you want anything?” Jimmy asked, gesturing to his dinner. “There’s more than enough in the fridge.” Nick peered into the plate. Grilled chicken, veggies, some kind of brown rice and a orange sauce. No doubt a little kick of spice to it. Looked appetizing, but he was feeling antsy.

“No thanks,” he answered with a hand up in protest. “I had something on the way over.” If you want to call a questionable empanada from the gas station down the street ‘dinner’. Jimmy only shrugged and didn’t push further. He placed his dinner down and held a finger up to Nick, implying he’d be back in a minute. With that he ran up the stairs and head to what Nick could only assume was his bedroom.

He was alone. Nick felt an uncomfortable tightening in his chest. It was an unusual, kind of irritating feeling. He wasn’t used to it. Letting another deep exhale escape him, he began an unsteady pace around the living room. He stopped when he reached the fireplace, which clearly hadn’t been used in some time. Framed pictures of the Neutron family decorated the mantle, spanning across years. They documented family outings and holidays, but most were Jimmy with various trophies and ribbons he had won from different contests and science fairs. Nick could not help but smile. They all seemed so normal. So happy. A true ideal of the all-American family. He had wondered how nice it might actually be to get a little closer to this family.

The sudden slamming of a door and the hurried steps down the staircase jerked Nick from his train of thought. Jimmy approached him, out of breath and handed him a small plastic case with the words Day of Vengeance II written sloppily across the top. “Here it is.”

Nick had almost forgotten why he even came here in the first place. Earlier in the week he’d somehow gotten caught up in conversation with Jimmy, and learned that, when he wasn’t inventing something ridiculous and possibly dangerous, he was able to use his state of the art technology to access impossible to find media and rip them on DVDs. He looked down at the disk and smiled. “This isn’t supposed to hit theaters for three more weeks.” He looked up, and met Jimmy’s gaze. “It’s really cool of you to do this for me, man.”

“It’s no big deal.” Jimmy shrugged, feeling a little bit proud of himself. Someone like Nick had been impressed with something he had done, and that doesn’t come around very often. “It’s actually fairly simple to hack into video feed from the Korean film festivals. Especially since they went from physical film to digital.” He laughed a little and raised a brow. “Nothing is ever truly offline anymore.”

Nick felt his breath catch in this throat and turned away, slipping the case into the pockets of his worn leather jacket. “Well, thanks.”

Jimmy’s expression faltered a bit, and he looked down at the floor. “I hope you enjoy it. I’ll have to give it a watch at some point.” The tone is his voice softened to sound almost sad.

There was a moment of silence between the two boys. Why does he have to use such a sad tone? Nick’s heart beat was singing in his ears. With a loud throat clear, he spoke out “if you’re up for it, we can watch it together.”

Jimmy’s head immediately shot up. “Right now?” A genuine smile spread across his face. Nick’s heart skipped.

Keeping composure, Nick relaxed a little and removed the disk from his pocket. “Totally. If you’re not busy causing chaos in that lab of yours.” Shaking his head, Jimmy took the disk from Nick’s hands and gestured to the couch for him to have a seat before starting it up on the television.

The sun had completely set at this point, and the TV was the only source of light. Nick could barely see as Jimmy came to the couch and sat beside him. “I was also able to get the deleted scenes and director’s commentary,” Jimmy started, reaching for his food he’d set down earlier. “If that interests you.”

It didn’t, but Nick wouldn’t tell him that. Something about his eagerness and unbridled joy made it hard for him to do so. “Thanks.” He sat back into the couch, the leather of his jacket making noisy friction with the fabric.

“You can take your jacket off.” Jimmy never took his eyes off the screen, but somehow still sounded very inviting. Nick obliged and threw it on the adjacent chair. The movie had only been on for a little over ten minutes, but to Nick it felt like days had passed. He wasn’t even fully paying attention. He could hear Jimmy’s light chewing and occasional soft chuckles when something funny had happened. The earlier feelings of slight paranoia crept back in. What if Jimmy told his friends that he sat alone in the dark with Nick Dean and watched a movie? Seems innocent enough to some, but not to Nick.

“Hey, Neutron…” He began, almost whispering. He felt a slight sweat begin the break. “Can you…” He adjusted himself and sat straight up. At this point he had Jimmy’s full attention. “Can you not tell anyone I was here tonight?” No matter how he thought about it, there was no way to request that without sounding like a complete jerk.

Jimmy froze. His features softened and he looked down at his lap. “Oh.” It wasn’t what he was expecting, but he should have. “That’s fine.” His response was short, and he looked back up trying to seem unbothered. No such luck.

A sudden pang of guilt washed over Nick as he saw how Jimmy reacted. “It’s nothing personal, it’s just-“

“No, I get it.” Jimmy cut him off, holding a hand up in his face. He raised his voice a little in defense. “I guess hanging out with me would damage your image.”

Jimmy’s words spat out like venom. In that moment Nick felt so unbelievably small. It’s true that he had managed to carry the cool and popular status all the way through to the beginning of high school. Even in a completely new building with dozens of new classmates, he never had any competition in that area. It wasn’t even something he tried to do intentionally, but it always just happened for him. He didn’t share many classes with Jimmy, considering the obvious gap in academic excellence between them, but he still considered him a friendly acquaintance. The fact that Jimmy thought of him as nothing more than an image to be kept honestly really hurt in that moment. He understood, though. At least, he tried to.

Jimmy took a deep breath, and realized that what he had said may have come out harsh. “Look, I know I’m not the most popular guy in school. So, no hard feelings. I promise.” His tone wasn’t the least bit convincing, but he refused to let his face show what he was really feeling.

“That’s not what I meant.” Nick responded in a soothing manner, trying to diffuse. He took in a sharp breath and ran his hands through his hair. “I know you know there’s been rumors about me…” His voice trailed off slightly, realizing he could never come back from what he was about to say.

Jimmy waited for a minute for him to continue, but nothing came out. He just shrugged. “Rumors?”

BZZZ….BZZZ

There’s no way Neutron didn’t know, Nick had thought. He must be jerking me along. “Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” His eyebrows furrowed as he maintained eye contact with Jimmy, trying to read him.

BZZZ….BZZZ

Jimmy shook his head in protest. “I honestly don’t know what you mean. Like I said, I’m not that popular.”

BZZZ…BZZZ

“Please answer that.” Nick pressed his fingers to his temples. He was starting to stress himself out. He watched as Jimmy dug his phone out of his pocket and read the chain of messages that had interrupted their conversation. He didn’t mean to peek, but he saw that they were all from Cindy. Or rather, ‘Vortex’ with a flame emoji next to her name. It could be a jab at the fact that she’s such a hot headed inferno. Or maybe she ignited a fire within Jimmy.

Something in Nick hoped for the former.

Without replying, Jimmy put his phone back in his pocket. “Just Cindy,” he confirmed. “She left her notebook here.”

Oh. That was all Nick could think. He felt a sudden knot in his stomach. “You guys hang out?” He wasn’t sure why he asked that. An urge came over him. Jimmy nodded matter-of-factly at that. He’d thought it was obvious that him and Cindy still held a decent relationship through all the years that passed. Cindy would come over around the times of big exams, and they’d hole up in the lab to study. They were still able to salvage something from the ruins of their romantic relationship that had ended towards the end of Junior Highschool.

“Are you working things out again?” Nick asked bluntly, turning away from Jimmy and pretending to watch the television that had still been going in the background this whole time. A chill ran over him once the words left his lips. I should mind my own business.

Jimmy laughed audibly, caught off guard at that. He shook his head and held a hand to his mouth to stifle more laughing. “Absolutely not.” He finally answered, in the most confident tone Nick had probably ever heard from him.

“Why not? She’s cute.” Nick replied, digging a playful elbow into Jimmy’s side.

“Well, you can date her.”

There was a silence. Jimmy felt the energy in the room shift almost instantly as soon as he said that. He looked at Nick who had sunk back down into the couch and glued his eyes back on the television. They had been talking all this time, so there was no way he was retaining what this movie was about. It was just noise at this point. He was afraid he’d said something wrong, and let it be.

“So you really don’t know?” Nick had finally spoken up again after several minutes. “You really haven’t heard any rumors?”

“I swear on my lab.” Jimmy could hear Nick’s breathing become heavier, but he sat patiently and waited for him to speak.

“You heard about what happened with me and that cheerleader?”

After a moment of digging through his memories, Jimmy recalled a moment in time where Nick was regularly seen hanging around a pretty blonde cheerleader. Emma was her name? Heather? Jimmy couldn’t remember. He’d never really spoken with her, but he also never thought anything of it. Just Nick being friendly and popular with the girls, as always. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen Nick around her much lately. “Sort of,” he answered, more like a question.

“She was a friend,” Nick began, “someone I was really close to. I cared about her a lot.” His sentence seemed to trail off, but then he noticed that Jimmy’s striking blue eyes were glued to him. “She wanted something more and I wasn’t interested, so I turned her down. Things escalated and she started a rumor that I-” his breath caught in his chest. His face turned hot and he felt his fingers trembling in his lap. “That I’m…into dudes.”

Though it felt good to get out, there was an uncomfortable stillness in the air. Jimmy never took his eyes off Nick, and he could feel them burning into the side of his face. “Why’d you turn her down?” Jimmy’s voice was serious, and curious. Nick felt in that moment that he was being studied, and he kind of hated it.

“Not my type.”

“Well, what is your type? Now that I think of it, I’ve never seen you with a girlfriend.”

Why is he looking at me like I’m one of his stupid experiments? Nick wasn’t sure how to answer that. He didn’t think Jimmy would be this invested. “I don’t know.” It was a lackluster response, but he was afraid of divulging too much.

"So...are you?" Jimmy's words filled the empty void of space between them in the darkness.

"Am I what?" The end of the sentence shot out sharply.

"Are you attracted to men?"

That was it. Nick's entire being felt like he'd been hit head on by a truck. It was a question he'd been struggling with for a while now.

“Whatever, dude.” Nick couldn’t think of anything else to say. He felt utterly defeated. He leaned back into the couch, as far away from Jimmy as he could manage without falling off.

“You brought it up.” Jimmy answered in a small snicker.

Studying his face, Jimmy could tell more and more that Nick was embarrassed and vulnerable. It was a heavy topic to put out in the world, especially to someone he didn’t know all too well. He felt a little pang of guilt in his chest for pushing. The only thing he could think to do was extend a hand out to his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. Nick tensed up at the feeling of Jimmy’s hand on him. “You can tell me, you know.” Jimmy knew everything. Behind every rumor there had to be a little bit of truth, he figured.

“Hmm..” Nick only mused gently and slouched in his seat, almost collapsing into his own body out of sheer embarrassment.

“You can trust me.” Jimmy initiated, trying to lighten up the palpable tautness in the air. “I know we may not be extremely close, but I hope you know I wouldn’t…” His words trailed off. He’d stopped dead when Nick moved his hand and placed it gently on his own.

“I need to work it out myself.” Nick’s voice was trembling. He refused to meet Jimmy’s gaze, and his cheeks were flushed. Good thing it was still somewhat dark in the room.

Jimmy didn’t pull away. If anything he thought it good to be comforting in that moment. “It’s nothing to be ashamed about, Nick.”

“I’m not ashamed.” Nick replied sternly. He really wasn’t. It was just a lot to handle in short time. He knew that his classmates may not be as accepting as Jimmy was right in that moment, and he didn’t feel like putting up with that for the remaining 3 years of high school. Even telling Jimmy was a risk, but he owed it to himself to let it out to someone. “I just want to be totally sure of myself before I say anything about it to anyone else.”

Jimmy decided it was best not to say anything. He looked down at Nick’s hand that was still positioned over his own and smiled. “You know, you’re still the coolest guy I know.” In a swift motion, he swapped places with Nick’s hand, earning a small gasp from him. “I don’t think any less of you.”

It was sincere. Nick knew that much. He felt his hand start to sweat a little under Jimmy’s touch, and drew it away. “Thanks, Neutron. I’m really surprised you’re not grossed out.” Nick gave a light hearted grin.

“Not at all. It’s perfectly natural and occurs in almost all living species.” Jimmy was practically giddy.

Of course he’d find a way to relate it to science. Nick caught himself smiling. He felt an indescribable heaviness lift from him. He’d shared something that had been weighing severely on his mind for a long time. He was supposed to just come here, grab a movie and leave. He probably would have just gone home and stew even further in his own thoughts.

“Hey, Nick?” Jimmy spoke, returning to his original crisscrossed position on the couch. “I really appreciate you telling me something so important to you.”

“Don’t get all sappy on me, dude.” Nick’s voice toughened a little, but he smile never faded.

“Did you completely lose track of what’s happening in this movie?” Jimmy questioned, turning to him with an almost cunning expression.

Nick only shook his head and exhaled. “I can just watch it at home.”

“Am I boring you?” Jimmy asked brazenly, already seizing the remote and stopping the film to return it to the first scene. Nick didn’t argue. He just sat back and watched as the opening titles flashed across the screen. “You haven’t answered my question yet.”

Nick looked at him quizzically. “Huh?”

“You said you didn’t pursue a relationship with her because she wasn’t your type. What’s your type?” Jimmy never bothered to look at him, but he knew Nick had turned impossibly red.

Without even noticing he had done so, Nick scooted closer to Jimmy to where they were almost touching. He casually swung an arm over the back of the couch and relaxed, feeling the most content and sure of himself he’d had in quite a long time. “I think you’ll figure it out.”

#jimmy neutron #jimmy neutron: boy genius #jimmick #fanfiction #my works

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noona-clock · 6 years

Text

Working On It - Part 8, Final Chapter

Genre: Teacher!AU

Pairing: Brian (Day6) x You

By Admin B

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, Oh, yeah, and I love you, Nothing’s Wrong

About Two Years Later

Honestly, you could’ve sat in your car for about an hour and just cried. Cried with joy, of course, because you’d just finished your very last final of dental school. You were officially done, graduating in just a few days.

It had been a long, difficult two years, but you’d done it.

Not without some help, mind you. A lot of help.

Brian had made it seem like it would be no trouble at all to help you out financially, but he had obviously been very optimistic. It hadn’t been easy; he’d had to make a fairly large dent in his savings, but he also hadn’t let you stop him. He had continuously made the argument that it would all be worth it in the end.

Plus, he’d ended up moving in with you and Sammy before the end of your first semester which had lessened the load quite a bit.

But now. Now, it was all over. No more classes, no more tests, no more practicums, no more tuition.

All you had to do was find a job.

Sammy had helped, too, of course. He’d helped you study as best as he could, and he never complained when you took your textbook to his soccer games. He’d even pestered you to contact your old work to see if maybe they would re-hire you as a hygienist, something you planned on doing tomorrow.

Truly, how could you have survived this on your own?

A very long, heavy sigh escaped your lips as you headed to your apartment, clutching your keys. Now that you were done with school, the urge to leave this tiny, old place was overwhelming; you could barely wait to find an actual house with a yard and a garage and privacy.

Speaking of, you figured you would get some for a little while seeing as the middle and high school were still in session; both Brian and Sammy would still be at school.

It would be nice to have some alone time, but... you’d been so busy the past two years, you were very much looking forward to spending more time with the two guys you loved most in this world.

You unlocked the front door of your apartment, letting out another sigh as you walked in.

But then you froze when your gaze landed on just the two guys you’d been thinking of. They were standing in the living room, and the apartment was filled with streamers and balloons and a big banner which read ‘YOU SURVIVED’ hung up on the wall.

“Wha --” you gaped, your brow furrowing.

All of a sudden, Brian and Sammy erupted into cheers. Sammy even blew a noisemaker while Brian threw some confetti into the air.

“What is this?!” you chuckled, setting your bookbag down and making your way over to them. You held your arms out and wrapped them tightly around Sammy (who was now a couple of inches taller than you - don’t get me started).

“You’re officially done,” Brian grinned, accepting your embrace once you’d finished hugging Sammy. “It’s time to celebrate.”

“Both of you are supposed to be in school!” you pointed out, trying to scold them but failing miserably.

“I got a sub for the rest of the afternoon and checked Sammy out early,” Brian explained with a casual shrug.

“We weren’t going to miss this momentous occasion!” Sammy cried before blowing the noisemaker again.

You leaned into Brian, one arm around him with your hand clutching the back of his shirt. You hadn’t been expecting to see them until later, so being greeted by their smiling faces right as you walked in the door? You were already a bit emotional from having finally finished school, but now you were simply overcome.

Brian squeezed your shoulders when he heard you sniffle, and Sammy blew the noisemaker yet again to try and liven the mood.

“What are we doing to celebrate?” you asked with a watery grin.

“Whatever you want,” Brian replied. “We can have a night in, we can go out, we can do anything your heart desires.”

“Ooh!” Sammy gasped. “Can we invite Jae and Dowoon over to play League of Legends?”

Brian let out a single, very amused ‘ha!’ “We’re celebrating your aunt, not you.”

“No, that’s fine,” you chuckled. “Invite Sungjin and Wonpil, too, we can have a little party.”

Brian had a solid group of friends from college, and over the past two and a half years, you’d gotten to know them pretty well. After you’d run into Jae and Wonpil at the movie theater, Brian had introduced you to Sungjin and Dowoon over lunch. They had quickly accepted you into their friend group, and you’d even introduced them to Sammy on Brian’s birthday that first year (you hadn’t been able to get him any presents, but you had thrown him the best party you could at your apartment).

And now, hardly a weekend went by when Sammy didn’t request inviting over his two favorite video game partners. You’d even asked Sungjin to stay with Sammy one weekend when Brian had insisted on whisking you away for a romantic weekend in the mountains. You’d basically been on the verge of a mental breakdown at that point; the stress of school and money had gotten to you, but Brian had successfully calmed you down in the span of two days. He had a way of doing that, actually. Making you focus on the positives to help you overcome the negatives.

It was just one reason why you loved him so much.

“Are you sure?” Brian asked as Sammy pumped his fists in the air and whooped victoriously. “I mean, they’re coming to your graduation party next weekend, you’ll see them then.”

“I’m sure,” you replied, trying to hide a sly smirk. You stood on your toes as Sammy grabbed Brian’s phone from the kitchen counter and presumably began to type out an invite text to Jae. You placed your lips close to Brian’s ear and whispered, “You can ask one of them to take Sammy for the night.”

Brian’s eyebrows shot halfway up his forehead. And his lips curved into a smirk to match yours exactly.

You could see it now: Jae would ask Sammy if he wanted to continue their video game back at his place, and while you knew this meant Sammy would stay up until almost dawn playing, Sammy didn’t know you knew. So he would think he was getting away with something, and you and Brian would have the place to yourselves to celebrate in a different way (if you catch my drift).

It was a win/win scenario in every possible way.

Except for the fact that Sammy would be gone. You cherished alone time with Brian, obviously, but you still missed Sammy when he wasn’t around. After almost three years of being his legal guardian, you realized it was sometimes kind of hard to remember a time when Sammy hadn’t been yours.

The two of you talked about his parents a lot, of course - Sammy’s counselor in middle school had urged him to bring them up at home since you were one of his only connections to his parents. But it had gotten to the point where you laughed more than you cried. You had more good days than bad days.

You’d gotten so close with Sammy these past three years, and he just felt like... yours. Like he was your son. And you knew your brother and sister-in-law would’ve wanted nothing less.

But anyway. Enough emotional talk and back to your current situation.

All four of Brian’s friends were able to come over, and the evening played out exactly as you’d imagined. Brian ordered about five pizzas for everyone, and Sammy was at a stage where he was eating so much, you honestly wondered if it would be enough.

Jae and Dowoon plopped right down onto the couch with Sammy and picked up a game controller. They would only set them down to eat and again later when it was time to leave.

Sungjin and Wonpil kept you and Brian company, talking about this and that, congratulating you on completing your degree finally, asking about your future plans. (Side note: you noticed Wonpil started to ask a question - “When are you going to --” and Brian cut him off. You tried not to think too much about it, but it was fairly suspicious...)

Once all of the pizza was gone and the sun had gone down, you watched as Brian shuffled to the couch and bent to whisper something in Jae’s ear. Jae nodded, winking conspiratorially at his friend before setting down his controller.

“Well, who’s up for continuing this at my place?” he asked, turning to eye both Dowoon and Sammy.

Sammy immediately spun to look at you with hopeful, pleading eyes, and you pretended to let out a ‘well, I guess’ sort of sigh.

“Sure,” you relented. “Just don’t stay up all night.”

Sammy sprung from the couch and ran into his room to pack an overnight bag as Sungjin and Wonpil began to clean everything up.

As soon as the door closed behind them about ten minutes later, Brian’s lips were on yours, and he promptly picked you up and carried you into the bedroom.

It had been a while since either of you had spoken. You were cuddled up in bed, and you were fairly sure Brian had fallen asleep. But when you turned over to face him, his eyes were on you, warm and curious as they always were.

“What is it?” he whispered, raising a hand and smoothing your hair back from your forehead.

You simply gazed at him for a few moments, taking in his handsome face while you had the chance. And then you whispered back, “Thank you.”

“For what?” he murmured before leaning in and pressing his lips to your forehead.

“For everything. I don’t think I can ever put into words how much it means to me that you --” You took a breath, already feeling the lump of emotion forming in your throat. “God, this sounds so cheesy, but you changed my life. If it weren’t for you, I would still --”

“You would’ve found your way here eventually,” Brian interrupted. “You didn’t need me.”

“But you came into my life at just the right time. I... I was struggling. I didn’t even know how badly I was struggling, but you helped me. I don’t know how I can ever repay --”

Brian stopped you with a kiss, and you knew if you tried to bring it up again, he would just keep kissing you.

So...

“No, really, I am going to --”

Your lips curved into a smile as Brian pushed you over onto your back, attempting to deepen the kiss through your grin.

Did you know your boyfriend or did you know your boyfriend?

You’d heard Brian and Sammy’s cheers as the dean read out your name and you began to walk across the stage to accept your diploma. Your cheeks warmed, and you lowered your head a little in embarrassment.

And then their cheers got even louder when you shook the university president’s hand and smiled for the quick photo op.

You knew they were proud of you, but did they have to be so loud about it?

When every single student in the auditorium had walked across the stage, you followed your classmates out, trying to keep an eye on your boys so you would be able to find them in the crowd of people.

As soon as you stepped out into the sunshine, you heard two voices calling your name, though one was saying ‘Aunt’ in front of it. You stood on your toes, trying to see over all of the graduation caps surrounding you.

All of a sudden, Brian’s arm shot up through the crowd and waved around. You began to weave your way through to get to him, your lips pulling into a smile as you shuffled closer.

“There she is!” Brian crowed the second he saw you. “The graduate herself come to grace us with her degreed presence.”

“Shut up,” you chuckled, your cheeks pink as you tilted your head to accept his quick kiss.

“All right, come on, picture time.” Brian slid his phone out of his pocket and waved Sammy over to you.

Your nephew came to stand next to you, putting an arm around your shoulders. You put your own arm around his middle as you held your black leather diploma envelope against your chest.

Brian took about a dozen pictures, instructing Sammy to hug you, kiss your cheek, look at you with fond pride - and by the end, he even had to instruct Sammy to smile.

“Come on, Sam,” Brian chuckled. “Look like you’re proud of your aunt, at least!”

“I am! I think it shows in the previous twenty pictures,” Sammy pointed out with a roll of his eyes.

“Okay, okay, fine,” Brian relented. “You come and take the pictures, then.”

So Sammy and Brian switched places, Sammy taking the phone while Brian took his place at your side.

Unsurprisingly, Sammy didn’t have to tell Brian how to pose in the pictures. He hugged you and kissed you and looked at you with fond pride and smiled all on his own.

“Okay, I think that’s good,” Sammy said impatiently after probably the fifth pose.

“No, just one more,” Brian requested.

Sammy groaned.

“Just one! It’ll be a good one, I promise!”

“All right,” Sammy sighed, lifting the phone up yet again.

You stood there smiling, waiting for Brian to put his arm around you or hug you or something. But you didn’t feel his touch. You only heard him say your name.

“Hmm?” you hummed, turning to face him.

But he wasn’t there.

Your eyes shifted downward, and the sight of Brian kneeling on the ground next to you made your heart stop.

Wait, not only was he kneeling -- he was also holding a small, black box in his hands, opened to reveal the most beautiful ring you’d ever seen.

You immediately gasped, your diploma envelope falling to the ground as your hands flew to cover your mouth.

Brian, meanwhile, was smiling as brightly as he’d ever smiled. Sammy was cheering, and you glanced over to see he still had Brian’s phone up, recording everything.

“Y/N,” Brian began when you turned to look back at him. “Will you marry me?”

Your eyes filled with tears, and you wasted no time in nodding your head.

Before you knew, Brian had swept you into his arms, holding you tightly and murmuring how much loved you into your ear.

And the ring was on your finger.

The past three years had been the most difficult, challenging, heartbreaking, and rewarding years of your life. You’d lost your grandmother and your brother, the only family you’d ever known. You’d struggled living paycheck to paycheck, your bank account going into the negatives too many times to count. You’d worried and cried and stressed more than any person should.

You’d lost a lot of things, but you’d gained Sammy. You’d gained a son - a wonderful, amazing, perfect son. And now you were gaining a husband. A wonderful, amazing, perfect husband.

Most people did it the other way around - gain the husband first and then the son. But you couldn’t remember the last time your life had been normal.

Maybe now it would be.

We’ll just say... you were working on it.

Epilogue I

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sellingmysoulforbts · 5 years

Text

You're having second thoughts about your career choice. BTS x Reader Reaction

Genre: mild angst, fluff. College AU. Gender neutral.

Warnings: strong language, self degradation.

as requested by @erraticsoul

A/N: I just wanna say that it is okay to change your career path. You're really young when you are forced to choose what you want to do for the rest of your life and we sometimes make mistakes. The most important thing is that you are happy.

Kim Seokjin

He was there for you, every single time you needed that extra support. This madness began when you started having trouble with some of the subjects that you had to take in college. Thoughts like 'how can I become a professional if I can't solve this simple exercise?' clouded your brain. Jin came on time only to find you crying over your homework.

"Tell me, how am I supposed to do this my entire life?"

"By giving your best, like I know you do, and if that's not enough then it's probably not what you should be doing" he would answer.

Then he proceeded to tell you one of his terrible jokes about the subject your having trouble with. Like if you weren't having it with chemistry he'd go "hey, are you made of copper and tellurium? 'Cause you're CuTe" and if that didn't work, he'd always come to you with a new plate he's made in class because he definitely a culinary arts major.

Min Yoongi

He was confused, like he didn't get how you felt at all. Since he was really young he new what his goals were and started working really hard to achieve them. You, on the other hand, have thought about every single career path, none of them seemed to completely fulfill you. Like you went from wanting to be a model to a rocket scientist in the span of two months, so you knew as soon as you filled that application form to enter college, with whatever career you had landed eyes on at the moment you weren't going to stick to it. Yoongi would try so hard to help you find something you like and would like doing for the rest of your life, just like he did.

"Okay, how about being a teacher?" He suggested one time.

"But I'll have to know the subject first, so what can I teach?"

"Never mind" he said.

He would just enroll you in a bunch of classes that have nothing to do with your current major, just to see if you'd like any of it.

Wanting to become a producer was his lifelong dream, the feeling he got every time he got a step closer was something Yoongi wanted you to experience as well, so he'd never give up on you.

Jung Hoseok

He would be the one to notice and call you out on it. Hobi was a dance major, so he had practice almost every day and you'd come, even if it was late or skip classes to see him. At first he didn't think much about it, and he appreciated the effort you were putting into the relationship, but then you stopped coming like once a week or just skipping a class to have lunch together and began coming like three times a week, and he would see you around campus with friends when he knew you had class.

"Hey, I saw you today walking out of campus" he said one day, after he was done with practice and you were still there.

"Oh, really? I didn't see you, I'd have said hi. At what time did you see me?"

"While you were supposed to be in class" he answered, trying not to sound mad.

"Yeah, the professor cancelled it last minute, so I didn't really have time to tell you" you genuinely thought he was jealous because you were hanging out with boys, but he wasn't. You'd you really be here so late if you were cheating on him? No, and he knew you would never, but he was concerned.

"And has he cancelled classes all week, and last one?" He inquired.

His tone gave away he was implying that you had been skipping class for the whole month.

"No" you answered softly.

"Is everything okay?"

"No" you answered again. He took your hands as a way to show you his support. "Why?" "I just don't feel happy anymore, like when I first got in I was so sure this was what I wanted and now I find it hard and I'm really stressed. I've been looking for other career options and I might change majors so I guess I lost interest and just stopped making an effort to pass" you shrugged, he kissed your hands.

"It's okay. We're still very young and I want you to do something that makes you happy"

Kim Namjoon

You. Felt. Dumb. You were having such a hard time in some classes, and not understanding anything your teacher said. At first you just worked a little harder and visited your professor to ask some questions, but seeing your classmates getting good grades or putting a minimum effort to understand, made you feel out of place and dumb, like actually stupid. Namjoon was an extremely intelligent human being, and that's no secret. He was an English major, and an outstanding student.

He was going to surprise you, you had been busy all week with schoolwork and he knew how hard you worked so he gave you your space, but it was Friday and he missed you like crazy. He didn't expect, when he walked into your apartment, to see you crying over your homework. Like actually balling your eyes out. Your brain was so chemically imbalanced at the moment that you barely felt arms wrapping around your sobbing form.

He managed to calm you down a little bit, and finally asked what's wrong.

"I can't do it Namjoon, I actually am incapable of doing it. I'm just a stupid piece of shit who can't even solve her homework. Why am I even trying at this point? I'm going to fail because my brain does not have the capacity to understand this subject" you basically yelled out and broke down crying again. He was so pained to see you like that and hearing that horrible things from your mouth broke his heart.

"Shh, don't say that baby, you are not dumb" "of course you'd say that, mister my IQ is 148, I only get As with minimum effort. I've being working on this thing for a week. A WEEK, and I can't do it. My teacher is sick of me for going every single day to ask him something." You were getting angry at this point, not with him but with yourself. Maybe throw in your parents as well for making you this way, but not at him, never at him, even though your words proved otherwise.

"Baby, look at me." He said. You shook your head embarrassed at your attitude.

He squatted right in front of you and took your face in his hands, dried your tears and smiled.

"You are not dumb, not because you have to work a little harder does it mean you're less capable of doing something. Besides, you're so far from stupid. When I look at you I see a wonderful human being, smart and kind, and that's what I love about you. Your perspective on the world, and your unique way of understanding things." He told with a sincere voice and that made you smile a little. "Also, I do put effort into my work but I like what I do so much that I doesn't feel like it, now tell me, do you like what you're doing?" He asked. " I don't know anymore" "okay how about this? Let's take a break right now, we go grab something to eat, we get back, cuddle, watch a movie. Just relax and not think about college for a while. And we can discuss this in the morning with a fresh mind."

Park Jimin

He was mostly sad, you didn't choose this for yourself, it was your parents dream. He would just try and comfort you, by hugging you and whispering words of encouragement. You were sad, angry and scared. You couldn't do what you wanted because your parents didn't support you but you also didn't want to disappoint them.

"I'm so sick of this Jimin, I don't think I can keep doing this." You said one day, you had to study for your upcoming tests but finding motivation was hard.

He couldn't fully comprehend your dilemma, his parents were super supportive.

"I know baby, but the semester is almost over."

"And then comes the next, and one after that, and on and on, not to mention the years ahead of me of working in this" you wanted to cry, just let out your frustration.

"Hey, how about, you start taking classes for what you really want, until you build up the courage to talk to them." He suggested. "I don't know I'm so scared." Your voice broke a little. His caring instincts kicking in immediately, so he hugged you. "It okay, I'm sure what they want is for you to be happy and have a safe future financially, that's why you're here, but you can prove to them that you'll succeed doing whatever you want, and I'm here to support you every step of the way. I believe in you, and besides I'm quite thankful to your parents for picking that for you or we might have never met."

"You're right" and with him by your side you had the motivation you needed.

Kim Taehyung

It was hard, Tae, your boyfriend, always seemed to have more free time, and enjoy his college experience way more than you did. He was one of the few things you were grateful for, during your time in college. The little study dates you had were like the only way to get you to open a book, and they were a 2x1 deal for him. Taehyung was an art history student and it required to read a lot so he could do his school work and spend time with you. You weren't irresponsible or anything but you started to wonder if you chose your career right, because the lack of motivation was really dragging you down. You were in the coffee shop you usually went with Taehyung to study just contemplating how you wanted your life to look in ten years, when he came.

"Hey" he said. "Hi" you answered still a little distraught. "Did you order?" You nodded in response. "Is everything o-" he started but you soon interrupted him "how did you know what you wanted to study?" "well my school took us to a museum for a school trip once, and I was fascinated by the art, but also intrigued as to what led the painters to do such masterpieces and I guess I got hooked on that. Why?" "I'm just not sure with what I'm doing,I never had a revelation moment so I just went with what sounded the least unpleasant at the moment" "Well how about we finish here and we can go find some counselling for you?" "You think I should change majors?" "Baby, when was the last time you felt happy and satisfied with your work and what you learned?" He asked and you grew quiet at that. "Exactly. What you do for the rest of your life has to be something that you enjoy and you're clearly not enjoying this." So you did just that, found help to discover what makes you happy.

Jeon Jungkook

I mean he would be kinda disappointed that you didn't told him first thing and that he had to discover it for himself. You were thinking and rethinking if you had made the right choice, so you turned yourself into a little help from the internet, trying thing from quizzes all the way to astrological birth charts, of course when he wasn't around.

As you were spending the weekend together doing homework and watching movies, he stumbled upon a word he didn't quite know the meaning of. He was studying animation, and taking classes for film production, but he was trying to do some homework for an English class.

"Babe, can I use your phone real quick? Mine ran out of battery" he asked. "Sure, what for?" "I just want to Google this word" he said and have you that bunny smile, you handed him the phone unblocked, not worrying in the slightest. He got it,and quickly clicked on the navigator, as he was about to type he peeked at your search history, things like 'how to choose your major', 'how do I know if I made the right decision','best careers based on your zodiac sign' that last one made him chuckle but he was generally preoccupied, because something was definitely wrong. He made a mental note to talk to you about it. Jungkook quickly made the research and completed his task. He then approached you, to give it back to you. You were just in the couch reading something, as he handed you the phone with a smile you sensed something off. "So, what's the best career for a virgo?" He wondered. It took a minute for it to click. "Kook…" you trailed of, not sure as to what to say. He sat down next to you. "Why wouldn't you tell me?" "I just- I was.. am so confused. I believe I chose what I did for a reason but now I'm not so sure and it been going on for a while. I guess I didn't want to bother you with stupid problems like that." You told him. He just shook his head. "That's why I am your boyfriend, so you can come to me with whatever is bothering you and we can fix it together cause we're a team, and it works the other way around too." "You're right, sorry" "It's okay, but promise me you will from now on" " I will, I promise" you smiled at him and he answered back "now that that's out of the way, let's find your perfect major" and with a kiss on your cheek, you then proceed to go through a lot of lists and quizzes a lot of websites suggested, together.

a/n: I’m so sorry this took so long but the scenario really hit home and I got distracted, anyways i hope you enjoy it and like it.

gifs not mine

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anonthenullifier · 6 years

Note

Do you think Tommy and Billy would ever given a tour of Stark Industries? I mean their Dad did technically help run it in a previous life.

Thanks for the ask! I don’t think this is what you were looking for, but it is the first thing that came to my mind after reading your ask. I do apologize if the characterization is off at all, I don’t usually write from either of the twin’s perspectives but it was the only way to do this story . Hope you enjoy!

“And now we move into what many consider the true heart of the tour,” a peppy smile goes with a peppy wave of her arms and the impressively uniformed pep in the tour guide’s step, “the hall of heroes.”

“Kill me now,” Tommy groans next to him, mood perpetually spiraling downward for the last hour, “please just blink me out of this reality.”

The field trip isn’t that bad. Well, it’s not great, but it could be worse, like the time they went to the wastewater plant and there was a leak. “This is the last room.” It is also, admittedly, the worst room to be in as children of Avengers. Being in a shrine devoted to worshipping your parents and family while surrounded by peers that already view you differently kind of sucks.

“We’re at Stark Industries,” Billy waits for his brother to make some sort of point, shrugging off the aggravation in his voice and inspecting the first generation uniforms of their parents. The plaque has an asterisk that leads the eye down to a note stating all uniforms on display are originals, graciously donated by the heroes except for The Vision’s (Billy frowns at the unneeded The) which is a replica due to the still unexplained power he has to shift molecules.

Tommy begrudgingly joins in staring at the uniforms, “This crap is not what we should be seeing. We’re not fucking tourists.”

“Language.”

Dad has been trying, and failing miserably, to curb impolite language, so when he is not around, Billy takes joy in turn-coating his allegiance and policing it. “Oh bugger off, traitor.” They both laugh at the loophole they discovered early on. If dad doesn’t realize they’re cussing, then they can do it freely, until mom stares them down, anyway. “I’m serious, I want to see the top secret stuff, not,” he flings his hands out at the post-Thanos uniforms, “this.”

They’ve listened to their grandpa wax poetically about his innovations, sat dumbfounded at the technical questions from both their dad and their other science minded relatives. There is so much more than old Iron Man uniforms and the ten different shields good ole Captain America has used to protect freedom. “Mom and dad are meeting us at the end, we could just ask-“

Tommy recoils at the comment, side-eying him the same way you would a person espousing mind control through frozen corn kernels on the street corner (though that actually ended up partially correct and led to a few months without corn in the house and deep, empty looks on their parents’ faces). “You trying to steal the funkiller crown from dad?” Hands turn Billy toward a small, gray door with a white and red sign stating Authorized Personnel Only. “You know the good stuff is back there.”

“No,” even if they can easily distract the chaperones and slip away from their classmates, it’s not worth it. “In less than a day, I get to go with Teddy on a houseboat.”

Tommy’s unempathetic stare is typical when matters of his relationship come up, “And…?”

“And I’m not risking it.”

Billy moves on to the current day display (all replicas), fingers tapping through the buttons on a screen introducing him to the training rooms and the Stark tech that is changing not just the world but universes too. Unfortunately the twin devil on his shoulder follows. “We won’t get caught.”

“We get caught 91.35% of the time,” a stat so graciously computed by dad three weeks ago when Tommy ran (literally) out and got them Taco Bell for lunch and then proceeded to proudly eat his chalupa in front of the teacher monitoring the lunchroom.

A scoff signals this fight is nowhere near done, “One, even dad admits his computation is flawed,” a margin of error assumed of plus or minus five percent for instances of misconduct that went fully undetected, “and two, that means we have a ten percent shot at success.” This is said as if ten percent is equatable to seventy five.

“Or we don’t and I have a hundred percent shot at a weekend without mom and dad.”

“Traitor.” Tommy shoves him out of the way, taking over control of the interactive display. “Yo display lady.”

A pleasant, lightly accented voice streams from the luminescent screen, “How may I help you?”

“Where are these rooms?”

A three second lag exists between the question and response, “Official training rooms are located at the Avengers compound, while beta-testing and highly complex simulations are housed here at Stark industries.”

Tommy stares at him, assuming this is somehow convincing. “No.”

“How many records are held by Vision?”

More silence and then the screen displays a table of dates and times, “Vision,” no The this time, likely because it was programmed by grandpa, “has eight time trial records across the two facilities.”

Another look from his brother implies this is all they need to know. Billy shakes his head. “And Scarlet Witch?”

The screen dissolves before providing new information. “Scarlet Witch has five records for time and three for amount of damage caused.”

“Go, mom!” Tommy is always more impressed by damage than time, something Steve has issues handling in their own training with the Young Avenger Initiative. “What about as a team?”

It’s to the credit of Tony’s programming that the AI understands the request in relation to the prior two questions. “Scarlet Witch and Vision, as a team, hold ten time records and eight damage records, including a combined record on training course Twenty Three, level of difficulty Wish You Were Never Born that has gone unchallenged for over eleven years.”

“Unchallenged.”

A smarmy confidence rests in Tommy’s eyes and finally the logic of his questioning clicks. “No way.”

Tommy glares at him before returning to the screen, “Where’s that course?”

“Course Twenty Three is located here at Stark Industries.”

There’s something infuriatingly infectious about his brother’s need to rebel as a means of satisfying his drive to surpass others. It’s so tempting to say yes, but Billy digs his heels in, refusing to go along yet again with one of Tommy’s plans that, though always fun, never have fun consequences and dammit, he wants to spend the weekend with Teddy. “Not a chance.”

Exasperation fills every inch of Tommy’s flail. They move on and the silence is nice, if not a bit unsettling. “Question.”

Billy makes sure his annoyance is firmly on display. “What?”

“Would you rather try and break their record or,” a lightning fast push spins Billy around, “watch Cody manhandle mom?” Mortification gnaws at his resolve, their classmate groping the mannequin from the brief time the Scarlet Witch wore a leotard and tights. It’s when Cody makes direct eye contact with them and starts pantomiming his intentions that Billy’s hands snap shut, blue energy tingling under his skin. “You take him down, guarantee that houseboat is gone.” An arm loops amicably around his shoulder, pivoting him towards the authorized access door. “We go see the good stuff and you have slightly better odds.” Billy is turned back to Cody, who has only grown more vigorous in his lewd gesticulating, “No houseboat,” and then back to the door as if there are only two options, “or a shit ton of fun and possibly a houseboat.”

Billy sighs and Tommy’s mouth tips into a beaming smile. “Fine.” Immediately his mind starts justifying the decision, an 8.65% chance not the worst odds in the world, plus, if they aren’t in the room when the prototype of the next-gen Iron Man happens to fall on Cody, then no one can point at him as the culprit.

Wordlessly they carry out the escape, Billy always taking on the role of distraction through subtle manipulations of perceived reality and Tommy gleefully vibrating his molecules to slip through the wall and open the door. “Let’s go.”

For some reason, he had assumed walking through the door would be like that one movie they watched, with the oompa-loompas, a door opening and a world beyond imagination appearing before them -flying suits, disappearing materials, explosions, scientists in white coats and blue gloves. Instead it’s just a hallway with beige walls and linoleum floors and doors lining the way. “So, what’s the plan?”

A thrilled, unconcerned lift of his brother’s shoulders drops their chances of success at least a percent, “Walk like we own the place and see what we find.” It’s sadly not his worst plan.

And walk they do, Tommy’s chest puffed out and arms swinging in casual authority. Technically, they sort of own some of the place, via dad’s stake in the company, so it’s not like they are being overly deceptive. Each hallway looks the same, making it difficult to track exactly where they are going, until they find another door stating Credentials Required and a face scanner affixed to the wall. Tommy doesn’t even hesitate in shimmying through the wall, so Billy follows, hands parting the space in front of him so he can walk through, closing reality behind him with some hesitation, certain there have to be cameras somewhere tracking them.

That concern is tossed aside because now they find the cinematic reveal, an open hangar in front of them with some sort of alien-esque ship on the ground and four floors of glass doored, luminescent laboratories spanning the reach of their eyes. “The good stuff.” This is far better than replica uniforms. “Let’s go find the simulation.”

“But look at this stuff!”

The self-confidence he had admired earlier also goes hand-in-hand with a tendency for fixation. “Yeah, I see it.”

Billy does his best to keep pace with his twin, who has a habit of speeding up his walk when excited while forgetting other people can’t move nearly as fast. That combined with Billy’s desire to peer into every lab space and marvel at the work, makes their trip stream by incomprehensibly. He thinks he saw a phasing suit, maybe a new particle generator, some sort of extraterrestrial looking staff, a portal to a mountain side, what he thinks might be a baby raptor, and also their grandma, who he usually loves seeing but pulled Tommy out of view before she could spot them. “Do you have any idea where you’re going?”

“Nope.”

“Fantastic.”

“Where are you going?”

The voice is instantly recognizable, one they’ve grown up hearing and it’s a little judgmental and a little bit amused. Tommy swings around and puts on the fakest innocent smile the world has ever seen. “Hey, Grandpa!”

Tony smirks, unconvinced by the tone of the greeting, but he isn’t angry, which is a good start. “How are my favorite rebels doing?”

“Great, on a field trip.” Billy is in awe of people like Tommy and Tony who can act so natural, can just ooze bravado and a sense of entitlement on a whim.

There is a nod and a contemplative droop of his goatee. “Seems you got lost.”

Tommy nods along, “Yeah, been trying to find our classmates, have you seen them?”

Now Tony chuckles, slapping his hands together, giddy at the lie but still showing no signs of annoyance or reprimand. “I have not, but I imagine they can’t phase through walls like you two can.” Billy, personally, wilts at the calling out, while Tommy shrugs again, matching Tony’s stance and attitude. “What do you two want to see?”

“What?” It comes out before Billy can catch it, surprised at the quick approval of their misdeeds.

“I asked what you wanted to see,” Tony stares at them, concerned he has somehow slipped into another language, “There has to be a reason you barged through my walls.” Learning to function in both the superhero world and just being a teenager with parents who have rules you don’t agree with, requires an ability to spot entrapment, certain phrases purposely worded as openings for waltzing right into admonishment. When neither of them take the bait, Tony acts hurt, a shake of his head and a pained, expertly acted, clutched chest. “I thought I was the cool, eccentric grandfather,” a smile threatens to wash away Billy’s anxiety as Tony continues in pantomimed betrayal. “Is it Thor? Would you tell Thor what you want? I mean, I don’t blame you, those gorgeous, puppy dog eyes are a killer.” A snigger from Tommy and all apprehension leaves the atmosphere, Tony’s toothy grin absolving all guilt of their sneaking around. “Seriously, what do you want to see? I’ve got a brand spanking new interdimensional travel lab, some Skrull-based camouflage trials, there’s a spaceship downstairs, Helen has an updated, palm-sized cradle.”

All of it, every last one is what Billy wants to see, but Tommy beats him to the request, “We want to do simulation twenty three, Wish You Were Never Born.”

Understanding dawns on Tony’s face, “Want to show the parental units up, huh?”

“Yep.” Tommy is close to vibrating through the floor.

“It’s really dangerous,” the mood darkens until Tony presents them a masterclass, uncaring shrug they’ve seen numerous times in his press conferences and Senate hearings, “but I’m not your parents and so it is my duty to aid and abet your delinquency.”

An ecstatic arm closes around Billy’s shoulder as they follow their grandpa down four different hallways and three staircases, emerging into a vast, utterly empty warehouse. “You all have suits?” Tommy whips off his sweatshirt to reveal the Stark crafted, green and white suit he always wears under his clothes, yanking his goggles from his back pocket and pulling them down over his face. Since this seems to actually be happening, Billy waves his hands, materializing his own caped suit in place of his jeans and t-shirt. “All right then, let me go upstairs real fast.”

The climb into the observation booth is agonizing under Tommy’s uncontainable excitement, his feet a blur as he warms up, running in place. “Quick disclaimer, boys,” they look up at Stark’s face through the window, “there are numerous things that can seriously maim you in this course, kind of why your parents hold the record, the whole made of vibranium slant your dad’s got going makes him uniquely qualified to handle a lot of this and your mom is terrifying as well, so together, magic.” A seed of doubt sprouts in Billy’s mind, yet it is not given time to be nurtured a, “Anyway, best of luck!” and then the room comes alive around them.

To say the difficulty level name is apt is a bit of an understatement. At any given time there are over a dozen different foes, and for each type of challenge, there are at least a dozen individuals within it. It ranges from laser guns, incendiary robots that look an awful lot like Ultron, replicas of the Black Order, phasing, flame wielding alien things, and Billy’s least favorite right now, microscopic, swarming jellyfish that blister the skin on contact. In amongst the chaos of fighting, he can hear Tommy cycle between “Shit, shit, shit,” “Oh my God!”, “What the fuck is that,” and maniacal glee. Slowly, and painfully, they take down the threats, sometimes combining forces to remove a particularly difficult foe, and sometimes splitting up to decimate the weaker challenges.

Looming over them is a very large clock, ticking away at their time and next to it, is the record of their parents. Their own clock continues, the numbers growing more similar to the goal and Billy assesses the surroundings, only taser faced bear-like creatures and giant bouncing orbs made of some sort of sticky, burning compound left. “Tommy!” His brother skids into view, mouth in a perennial smile and lungs heaving as he waits for the next strategy. “We have ten seconds, I say we vaporize.”

What seemed impossible is proven wrong, Tommy’s lips curving even higher as he fiddles with his goggles. “You hold them steady.”

“Will do.”

It’s a technique they birthed from their mistakes, the possibilities of their powers unknown and often discovered in embarrassing and unintentional ways. Like vaporizing soccer fields during gym class. Billy winds his powers around the last group of adversaries, wincing at the weight of their resistance as he adds more and more force to his hold. While he does this, Tommy runs a large circle around the bound creatures, legs pumping faster and faster with each lap until even Billy can’t track his position. That’s when it happens, a sonic boom that spreads through the warehouse, shoving Billy to the ground, puffs of smoke making the air murky, and then there is a “Hell yeah!” and the telltale sound of the buzzer their own training uses to signal success.

Tommy collapses on the ground next to Billy, “That was amazing.” All Billy can manage is a nod, lungs and body aching. “Do you think we did it?”

“Though impressive, unfortunately you were 8.65 seconds over.” Disappointing, but not bad. Far more worrisome is the unmistakably even English accent informing them of their failure.

Billy strains to sit up, glancing over his shoulder at the deep scowls of disappointment on his parents’ faces, next to the apologetic wince of Tony. “Fuck.”

“Language, William.” Tommy snorts and is met with a jab of blue to his chest.

Two strikes in less than three seconds and the houseboat is most definitely floating away, “Sorry, dad.”

“What are you two doing here?” This time it’s their mom, her accent thicker when she’s angry and currently it sounds like she just moved here from Sokovia.

A hand pats Billy’s arm, a reassurance that really isn’t helping. “The field trip was just so boring.” Nor is Tommy’s attempt at defending their choice providing any hope of bringing the boat back. “We just wanted to see stuff.”

The intercom clicks and they are presented with a predictably logical alternative, “You could have asked us after the field trip. You had shown interest in a more detailed tour the other night, hence the reason why your mother and I were meeting you here instead of at home.”

Billy flops his head to stare deep into his twin’s goggled eyes, “I suggested that.”

“Shut up.”

Another click and mom is back on the microphone, “We’ve been speaking with the Altman’s,” any last, clinging hope withers away, “they were really looking forward to having you with them this weekend,” the feeling is mutual, “they suggested a nice compromise.” He waits to learn what this is, worried if he asks it will harm any goodwill left. “They invited all of us along on the trip.”

Despair is far heavier than the physical toll of the course, and isn’t helped at all by the thumbs up next to him and the out-of-breath, “Yes, I love houseboats!”

#billy kaplan #tommy shepherd #scarlet vision #wanda maximoff #vision #tony stark #ask anon #mine #deathofink #replies #the maximoffs

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bgn846 · 6 years

Text

Something to Believe In

This little fic is for @ragewerthers I hope you enjoy it! The prompt changed a bit! :)

Link for AO3

SUMMARY: Prompto gets hurt in training and the boys discover he has never taken a potion before. They need a good distraction to take his mind off the pain.

Prompto looked on in fear as Cor massaged his temples. “Please don’t make me.” He begged again.

“I would never force you to do something you weren’t comfortable with Prompto but this won’t hurt, I promise.” Cor sighed through a frown.

Sparing a glance down at his ankle his heart rate started to go up again. Why on Eos had he done that stupid move? He was still in training; there was time to learn things without hurting himself. It had to be broken but he refused to let anyone touch it.

“I’m at an impasse Prompto, if you won’t let any of us help you then who should I call?” He asked.

“I have to tell him Specs, he will begin to worry that I don’t like him.” Noct lamented.

“Highness, we have all discussed this already and as I told you Gladio and I are both fine with you asking him. However if you don’t do something soon I will take control of this situation and ask him myself.”

“No. no. no. I have to do it, he will freak otherwise.” Noct sputtered as he sat on a barstool watching Ignis prepare dinner.

“He may freak, as you say, no matter who asks him.”

Sighing Noct buried his face in his hands. “Give me another week to figure something out, kay?”

“One week, Noctis and then I’m intervening.”

Gladio heard his phone ring and he dug it out of his pocket while walking back to his office. Answering it quickly once he saw the caller id, it was Cor, hopefully everything was alright.

“This is Gladio.” He answered in a rush.

“Are you able to come by the training center, I need you to pick up Prompto.”

“Sure, I can swing by, did something happen?”

“Nothing life threatening, just get here as soon as you can.”

The line disconnected after that and Gladio was left stunned standing in the corridor. Leave it to Cor to be vague and clear all at the same time.

Bastard.

Breaking out in a run he went straight to the training center. Prompto had only started basic crownsguard training two weeks earlier. By all accounts he’d been doing well so this phone call had him a little worried.

Cor’s waiting outside his office when Gladio rounds the corner. “You didn’t have to run all the way I told you it wasn’t life threatening.”

“That statement in of itself is not calming Cor, unlike you I haven’t gone to war so things like that don’t help me.”

“Fair enough.” He grumbled as he turned to go back inside the office. “I can’t seem to make any headway perhaps you could talk with him.” Cor guested towards where Prompto was laying on the office couch with one foot elevated higher than the other.

Seeing the blonde laying down with a clear look of pain strung across his pale features made Gladio’s heart sink. “Hey sunshine, what happened?” Prompto didn’t answer but pointed to his ankle instead. “Did you sprain it or break it?” This question unfortunately started the waterworks.

Prompto sucked back a sob and replied through his now streaming tears. “I –I don’t know but I’m afraid to touch it.”

“Can I take a look?”

“Only if you d--don’t touch it.”

Gladio knelt down and took a look, the ankle in question was clearly broken but it was hard to see much else besides that. Prompto still had his socks and sneakers on. “Can I take off your shoe? I can get a better look and then we can use a potion.”

“No!” Prompto shouted. “I don’t want to use a potion!”

This statement caught Gladio off guard. Using potions was second nature to him and hearing Prompto outright refuse made him pause. “What don’t you want to use a potion?”

“It’ll hurt and –and what if it doesn’t work and I need to use another one. What if it makes me lose my foot or something.” He wailed.

“Prompto potions don’t work like that; you have nothing to be afraid of.” Gladio tried to reassure the distressed blonde. Unfortunately it didn’t work.

Ten minutes later found Prompto being carefully lifted by Gladio bridal style. Normally the blonde would be far too self-conscious to be caught in such a position. His pain from the injury was taking precedent and made him forget his insecurities.

“Going to try and see if Ignis and Noct can talk him into taking one?” Cor questioned from the doorway.

“It’s my last option right now.” Gladio sighed.

“Sorry for being such a pain.” Prompto mumbled from where his head was smashed into Gladio’s shoulder.

“Kid you’ll be fine, I’ll see you for training in a few days in a cast or without, either way.” Cor commented with a small smile as they left his office.

“Can I get fired from training?” Prompto asked with a whimper as they headed to Nocts.

“No, listen you’ll be fine, try and relax.”

The trip up to Noct’s citadel apartment only took ten minutes and Prompto was shaking the whole time. Gladio was unsure if the pain was making him shake or just his nerves. They didn’t talk during the walk and when the door to the apartment came into view he could feel Prompto suck in a breath.

Knocking on the door the shield only had to wait a minute before Ignis answered. He immediately went into mom mode. Gladio told him what had happened and Ignis instructed him to sit Prompto on the couch. A footstool showed up and Prompto’s broken ankle was gently elevated.

“What the hell do you mean you’ve never taken a potion before?” Noct asked in disbelief once they’d all taken up a position near their distressed friend.

“Noctis, must you really be so tactless.” Ignis retorted from where he was kneeling on the floor examining Prompto’s ankle without touching.

“Sorry guys, I’m just scared I know it’s stupid but I can’t help it.” He confessed with a red face.

“There really is nothing to be afraid of blondie, it won’t hurt I promise.” Gladio offered from the seat next to Prompto.

“Highness?” Ignis interrupted. “I do believe now might be a good time to ask Prompto about that thing we were talking about earlier.”

“Really!? Now?” Noct huffed. “That is tactless!”

“No I think it would do wonders actually, why don’t you try.” Ignis requested again with a glare in his eyes. This time Noct seemed to pick up on his hidden message.

Ignis’ plan was already working, though Gladio had no clue what they were up to. He watched as Prompto stopped staring at his busted ankle and looked up at Noct with wide eyes. The prince was straddling the arm of the couch and seemed to be having an internal debate about something.

He turned a little more and placed a hand on Prompto’s shoulder. “Prom, so I need to talk to you about something important.”

“Oh gods, please don’t tell me I can’t be in the crownsguard anymore. I’m trying really hard!” He exclaimed with a frown.

“No! That’s not it at all! Prompto--.” The prince was beginning to lose his momentum this was a hard thing to just ask someone. Ignis saw the lag in conversation and cleared his throat. “Uh – so I wanted to ask you if you might be interested in being in a relationship with me.” Noct stopped talking and Prompto appeared to stop breathing.

“W--what?” He weakly stuttered a second later.

“A romantic relationship with me.” He paused. “And Gladio.” He paused again for dramatic effect. “And Iggy.” He finished with a determined look.

His last word had covered the sound of the potion bottle breaking over Prompto’s ankle. The blonde gasped suddenly and without thinking clutched at Noct’s arm.

Ignis opened his mouth to say something but Prompto cut him off. “That’s it! It didn’t hurt at all! Oh emm gee I’m an idiot.” He cried out as he hid his face with his hands. “Guys you didn’t need to distract me with that crazy conversation. Well I guess you did but still that was a bit extreme.” He rambled.

However the mood in the room was still dead serious. Gladio broke the silence a moment later. “Prompto, Noct wasn’t making that up. We’ve been dating for almost a year and decided to ask you if you wanted to join in.”

Prompto truly did shut down this time around. He kept opening his mouth to try and speak but clearly couldn’t find the words. After what felt like an eternity he finally uttered one word. “Seriously?”

“I’ve never been more serious about anything Prompto.” Noct responded in a whisper.

Gladio was starting to worry that they’d broken him for real. Prompto covered his face again and drew his legs up to his chest. He was crying again.

Shit.

This wasn’t good. “Prompto, hey it’s okay. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. We all like you and wanted to offer in case you were interested, we don’t want to upset you.” Gladio said in a pained voice. It was really hard to watch Prompto cry.

“Huh? What? No, I’m not upset.” Prompto quickly corrected as he lifted his head. “I think I’m --.” He looked confused for a second.

“Overwhelmed?” Ignis offered.

Nodding and burying his face again he focused on taking deep breaths. “I can’t believe this is happening to me.” He added though it was muffled from his current position.

“So you wanna give it a try?” Noct asked hopeful.

Prompto couldn’t believe the day he was having. First he screwed up in training and freaked out over taking a potion. Thinking back on that he cringed, it was really nothing to be scared of. Just like everyone had said it would be okay.

Second he’d gained three boyfriends in a span of like five minutes. That was insane. He’d always dreamed of Noct liking him that way but this was beyond his wildest expectations. Noct liked him and so did Gladio and Ignis!

Nothing had changed much after their admission to him but as the evening progressed Prompto could see subtle differences. They hugged a few more times than normal and their causal touches lingered. Ignis completed dinner without much fuss and afterwards the four of them piled on the sofa in the living room to watch a movie.

Surprisingly Gladio held out his hand first as an invitation. Prompto accepted since he had been dying to get a cuddle from the man for like ever. He sank into Gladio’s chest and practically swooned when the big guy wrapped his arms around his waist.

Looking over at Noct he was happy to see Ignis sprawled out on the prince’s lap. The advisor was busy smashing a pillow around to get it just right. He caught Prompto looking and flashed him a smile.

“I can’t believe this happened to me.” He whispered mostly to himself.

“Believe it sunshine.” Gladio’s low voice rumbled back in his ear.

“I call first dibs on date night!” Noct announced.

“Oh no, I’ve already claimed that spot.” Ignis murmured sleepily.

“How exactly did you do that?” The prince exclaimed.

“It’s true princess, you went to the bathroom and Iggy asked Prompto. So you don’t got dibs.”

“That is so not fair!” He huffed.

“That highness is what happens when you wait too long to take my advice.” Ignis responded with his refined accent. “To the victor go the spoils.”

#ffxv #ao3 story #ot4

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foxofthedesert · 6 years

Text

Arrow FF | Dinah x Laurel | A Christmas Miracle

Part 3 – The Dance (Click for AO3 Link)

As Dinah trails Laurel down the familiar amber-lit hallway, she has to remind herself that this is not her first trip to this particular Oak Forest complex. Seeing as Laurel lives smack dab between Felicity and Dinah, the convenience of her apartment made sense to conduct meetings of the anti-Diaz club Felicity formed while Oliver was locked up and which thereafter morphed into what Felicity calls ‘an unconventionally awesome three way Womance.’ Dinah also drops in to check on Laurel after particularly rough days, a gesture that while not received with praise is at least silently appreciated judging by Laurel’s tacit acceptance of her continued unannounced visits. There is a modicum of resentment from Laurel that occasionally boils over due to feeling unfairly criticized or annoyingly henpecked due to the wanton villainy that characterized her recent, although Dinah has learned how to assuage those flare ups with honeyed reassurances that she is only concerned because she cares. Usually that works well enough, and it when it doesn’t they just bicker it out until one of them invariably apologizes. Lastly, during their collaboration on the Ace Chemical case, work twice spilled over into Laurel’s home and saw them laboring into the wee hours of the morning double and triple checking critical details tucked away inside the mountain of associated files.

All of this means that Dinah a stranger to this sharp, stylish corridor, nor is she unfamiliar with the cozy confines of the abode lurking behind the door just ahead. And yet the tingling in her extremities and the butterflies fluttering around in her tummy would suggest otherwise. In the wake of their bonding experience at the shelter, the sensations being produced by Laurel’s proximity and their pending nightcap are not unlike those she experienced the night before her junior prom. Only then her date was a six foot two, one hundred ninety-five pound star athlete with whom she was utterly smitten; whereas now...well, at least the last part is accurate if her slightly humiliating reaction is any reliable barometer.

Get ahold of yourself for God’s sake, she tells herself as they approach Laurel’s front door, which displays a lovely ornamented wreath. You’re not sixteen anymore and this isn’t a date. Then she recalls Laurel’s anxious shifting as the invitation was posed, and how clearly it was meant as much more than a friendly gesture of thanks for her help at the shelter. Or is it? Hmm. Laurel certainly was acting like maybe it is, which is probably why I’m as big a bundle of nerves as she seems to be. Holding her hand when we left the shelter didn’t help matters, either. As Dinah remembers how right it felt when their palms meshed and their fingers wove together, she watches Laurel fumble for the key to her apartment with shaky hands, swear under her breath, then glance back sheepishly before returning to her task. The unmistakable hint of an incredibly fragile hope that flared through Laurel’s green eyes hits Dinah square in the chest. Jesus. Is this really happening?

Dinah gets her answer when Laurel finally slides the correct key home and pushes the door open, then hesitates in the doorway before offering a shy invitation that sounds nothing like the arrogant, flamboyant, dangerous vixen she first encountered on Lian Yu. Unfortunately Laurel recovers her confidence too quickly for Dinah to comment upon that brief display of vulnerability then flicks on the light and enters to reveal a sight no one who knows this Laurel Lance could have ever adequately prepared for.

Inside the apartment is a scene that would not be horribly out of place in one of the Hallmark Christmas movies Dinah enjoys indulging in during the Holidays. Festive trinkets adorn virtually every piece of furniture from little knickknacks like porcelain elves upon the bookshelf to dual poinsettias with ribbons attached to the wrapping on the vase on the entertainment stand next to the door all the way up to an exquisite nativity scene upon the coffee table that appears as old as it is gorgeous. Meanwhile a modest Christmas tree is tucked into the corner of the living room, neatly and conservatively trimmed featuring plain white lights and mostly silver ornamentation.

“I like what you’ve done to the place,” she says as she mimics Laurel in shrugging off her coat then depositing it, as well as her other unnecessary garments, upon the coat rack to the left of the door.

Laurel smiles over her shoulder, an attractive blush coloring her cheeks. “Thanks. I might have gone a bit overboard. This is the first year I’ve decorated since...” she trails off then, brows drawing in, an oppressive sadness dimming the light in her eyes as she is transported somewhere in her mind, to another time and place Dinah is not yet privy to. But as abruptly as the gloom descends, Laurel brushes it away with a shake of her shoulders and reattaches a wry smile to her face. “Well, let’s just say it’s been a long time.”

Wanting to ask about what went through Laurel’s head just a second ago and whether or not it has to do with Quentin, Dinah opts instead for a safer track. Some day she will get Laurel to open up to her about all she’s been hiding for so long under those impressive facades meant to distract from a secret anguish no one else seems interested in. Except for Dinah, that is, and not just due to the cop instincts that make her want to dissect criminals and villains to determine what makes them tick. She wants to know because it has been evident to her since she bothered to look past the jagged sarcasm, edgy goth wardrobe, and penchant for violence, she realized there was something significant there screaming to the heavens to be uncovered. Once she knew what she was looking for, it didn’t take a genius to figure out there is so much hurt being bottled up inside Laurel that needs to be vented if she’s to maintain this positive course correction she’s made. The problem is Laurel’s problematic lack of a support system makes any definitive progress unlikely in the near term. Who in her life would she deem trustworthy enough to permit voyage beyond the as of yet impenetrable facade? The answer is self-evident to Dinah. No one. Or not yet anyway. Dinah is trying her damnedest to be that someone since no one else seems interested.

With every one else important to Laurel life occupied with their own problems, such as Felicity and Oliver with their family and Team Arrow and all the peripheral shit that comes along with being the central figures of a Superhero outfit that spans multiple cities and Earth, or simply unconcerned about her welfare because they can’t let go of the past – ahem Rene and John – the burden of caring about and for Laurel Lance has fallen to Dinah alone. And that’s okay. She’s happy to shoulder it. Dinah has always been a caregiver. It’s one of many factors that drove her to focus her military training into a meaningful civilian service. That and Laurel, at least to her, is worth it. If no one else can see that? Their loss. She’ll take this exceptional, infinitely interesting woman over the banal choices for company daily served up to her on a silver platter.

“What got you in the holiday spirit if you don’t mind me prying?” she asks, following Laurel into the living room where her svelte hostess gestures for her to sit.

“Hold that thought and go ahead and make yourself at home while I go get the snacks,” Laurel says in lieu of answering immediately, then glides off toward the kitchen with her typical grace.

Dinah obeys like a good guest, and to keep from fidgeting occupies her hands by trailing her fingers over the smooth lacquered finish of the figurines composing the nativity scene neatly arranged upon the coffee table. The craftsmanship really is amazing, the precision unlike anything she has come across from her limited exposure to Christmas decorations. As a kid her parents opted to celebrate the holidays in a non-religious manner seeing as both were lapsed in the faith they were born into, her father the son of Southern Baptist preacher and her mother’s family ensconced firmly within Reform Judaism. But she had friends who made big to-dos about Christmas and often visited their houses to get a glimpse into a portion of modern life she was denied. She used to marvel at the ornamentation on display and wish she was brave enough to ask her parents to make some allowances. None of her friends had anything like this, though.

The manger is so intricate that she can feel imperfections in it as if it were real wood, the hay hundreds of individually constructed strings upon which a marvelously detailed baby Jesus lay, with ten tiny olive-tinted fingers clutching at the threadbare shawl wrapped round him. Mary and Joseph are almost as meticulous, in their period clothing with accurate complexions and features, as are the equally diverse wise men and the astonishingly life-like miniature lambs tucked in round the manger.

“My great-great-great-something grandfather made that in the 1850’s, I think,” Laurel says, having snuck back in while Dinah was entranced studying the figurines. A bit startled, she looks up to see Laurel rounding the couch with a tray in hand and tracks her progress as she continues on to deposit the tray carefully upon an unoccupied portion of the coffee table. “It’s also the answer to your earlier question. I mean, volunteering at the shelter this year got me thinking about when I was a kid and my parents would go crazy around Christmas. Nostalgia hit me hard, so I started browsing through some of the boxes of Christmas stuff Quentin never got around to unpacking and found this nativity scene carefully tucked away in bundles of padding. It’s exactly the same as the one my Quentin inherited, one of a handful of items that survived the family move from Germany after the war. Incidentally, apparently family origin is one thing that doesn’t really change between Earths where we have doppelgangers.” She pauses for a breath. “Anyway, I wanted to put it out to remember both Quentins by but it seemed silly to have just that, so I put up a few more. Which turned into a few more. Eventually...I looked around and this had happened. Oopsie.” To prove her point, she gestures around the apartment, its festive décor providing a merry backdrop to what Dinah hopes will be just as merry a night.

“Well, it’s absolutely gorgeous so I don’t blame you one bit for wanting to show it off. Or for going overboard on the rest,” Dinah says, savoring the information she has just gleaned. Not only does she now know that they share in a heritage that traces back to Germany before the Second World War and that family histories remain largely intact between multiple Earths when a person exists in each of them, but the most intriguing tidbit is that Laurel had a happy childhood at one point. So what went so terribly wrong to make her into Black Siren? Curiosity surges through her mind that she quickly tempers with a dose of reality by reminding herself why she’s here. “The whole apartment is really nice. I’m very impressed,” she adds, meaning it from the bottom of her heart. “Now that I know you have a knack for interior decorating, I’ll be blackmailing you into sprucing my place up for Hanukkah next year.”

Just because her late parents chose the path of unbelief does not mean Dinah has. There was a time she abandoned her faith, but since moving to Star City she has slowly been building up to the loosely-observant Reformist she is today. That means among other things that she attends synagogue whenever she can, which isn’t as often as she’d like due to her job, and eats as kosher as convenience and finance will allow. She has never been big on tradition, so she prefers to practice her faith in a casual way that appeals to her modern, practical, and privacy-oriented sensibilities. That said, her belief is as strong as it has ever been, strangely enough thanks to the woman from whom she just washed dishes and mopped floors until her fingers pruned up and her back ached like a bitch. If there was ever a sign from God that love and forgiveness possess a singular power to heal the heart, it has come in the form of her constantly evolving relationship with Laurel.

Ignorant of Dinah’s thoughts, Laurel chuckles at the jest she just made, which causes those amazing dimples of hers to peak out. “Can’t wait to see what material you break out to get me to do your bidding. I’m not easily blackmailed, you know.”

“I know. I happen to like a good challenge, which you most certainly are,” Dinah says with a wink that causes Laurel to blush for what seems like the hundredth time tonight.

“I’ve been called many things, but none with ‘good’ attached as a modifier. Eggnog?” Laurel returns as she gently picks up a mug of eggnog and offers it to Dinah, who accepts it with a grateful smile.

Powerless to resist the creamy goodness cradled in her hands, Dinah takes an experimental sip and cannot stop a moan of pure delight from purring through her chest. “Well, get used to it if this stuff is any indication of your talents.” She then breaks off the arm of one of the gingerbread men, snaps the hand off, then samples the dismembered appendage. Eyes sliding shut in rapture, a similar sound erupts from the depths of her chest. The cookie is more like something out of a professional bakery than an amateur oven. It is soft, perfectly chewy with a cinnamony and gingery flavor that coats her tongue with wonderfulness. “Christ alive, Laurel! This is divine.”

Not half as divine as those noises you just made, Laurel thinks, then chastises herself for what feels like the thousandth time tonight. She has always been hyper-aware of Dinah’s casual sensuality and absurd level of hotness, but lately her inability to curb that awareness has proven quite the irritant.

“Where’d you learn to make this?”

Dinah’s question causes Laurel to reemerge abruptly from the haze induced by that sinful moan. “I found it in my dad’s recipe book,” she answers, hastily to avoid any intensive scrutiny of her embarrassing biological response. “I mean, Quentin’s. Not that my Quentin wasn’t…that he didn’t...err, that he wasn’t...” A soft hand touches her to mercifully prevent any further verbal flailing.

Dinah’s gentle smile eases the mortification, but only just. “It’s okay. I know how much he meant to you. It’s not wrong of you to see him as your dad. He was. If any man ever loved his daughter, that’s the way Quentin loved you.”

Tears prick at Laurel’s eyes unbidden and she clamps down on her lower lip to keep from whimpering like some pathetic little girl. That age old cliché that time heals all wounds is nothing but a bunch of bullshit to Laurel when it’s yet to get any easier for her to hear how deeply this Earth’s Quentin Lance cared for her. The gaping, oozing sore his entirely preventable death left behind is a constant reminder of her unforgivable failures as a daughter upon two worlds. When her mother died in an auto accident and took her Sara to the grave with her, Laurel selfishly and foolishly blamed it all upon her father, who was behind the wheel, even though it was not his fault. A truck driver strung out on amphetamines to stay awake ran a light and plowed right into the passenger’s side. There was nothing anybody could have done, but that didn’t stop Laurel from berating her father at every turn until their relationship was in tatters and he could barely stand to look at her for fear of what she might say. When he was gunned down two weeks after her sixteenth birthday, six months after her Ollie died in the Gambit, she blamed him for that, too. Or at least she did until realization set in that all of the tragedies were ultimately her fault. Her parents had been on their way to pick up her from a silly after school program for advanced readers when that accident occurred, Ollie went on that trip with his dad because she was putting too much pressure on him to move away with her for college, and her father was killed interrupting a robbery while out buying ice cream for her because she emerged from the dreary foxhole of depression to actually interact with him for the first time in weeks.

Guilt over her role in those events ate her alive over the subsequent years. Haunted in nightmares, she was stalked from the shadows of her mind every waking hour of the day until she was reduced to little more than a deviant drug addict living on the streets, willing to do anything for a fix so the voice inside her head that sounded suspiciously like her dad would stop blaming her for their family’s demise. Becoming Black Siren cauterized that wound fairly well up til being Black Siren cost her the exceedingly precious second chance at deserving her father’s unconditional love. That day in the hospital, hearing Sara’s plaintive cries, feeling the blood rushing in her ears, unable to curtail the tears rolling down her face, tore it right back open again, as it has remained ever since. And the only person who has seemed to notice her silent suffering is Dinah Drake.

Miracle of all miracles….

As if sensing Laurel’s internal distress over her terrible comportment and her reticence to continue down this line of discussion, Dinah again proves her aptitude with regard to Laurel’s emotional and mental state. A pat of Laurel’s hand precedes returning her own to her mug, and she then adopts a more neutral posture and tone as she indulges in another healthy sip of the eggnog. After a satisfied little sigh, she asks, “So, what brought you to the shelter?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Laurel says, tone a bit clipped.

One day she will tell Dinah about the months she spent living at place just like the Carmine Kanigher Emergency Shelter. If her wildest dreams come true, she’ll finally be safe enough in a relationship with a woman who can handle the harrowing tale of a broken nineteen year old sexual abuse victim and heroin junkie who escaped her personal hell when S.T.A.R. Labs explosion bathed her battered body in Dark Matter in the midst of an agonized banshee wail. Beaten half to death, face a bloody mess, violated beyond reckoning, angry cigar-shaped burns seared into the small of her back and the back of her neck, in tattered clothes that hadn’t been washed in a month, she stumbled eight blocks in the dead of night until she spotted the little facility tucked in between a decrepit old apartment building and an anachronistic Catholic church that looked more like it belonged in Gotham than Central City.

As she stumbled across the empty intersection, her heart started beating uncontrollably. Two steps out a cold sensation corkscrewed up her spine and she stopped right in the middle of the street, paralyzed. Out of the blue she could feel his eyes boring into the back of her head, could smell the stink of vodka on his breath, and feel a grimy hand clamping down on her hips whilst the other snatched great handfuls of her hair with all the tenderness of a rabid grizzly. Panic descended upon her like a runaway train. Unable to think, reduced to pure adrenaline and fear, she used every last ounce of willpower to force her feet to move and raced as fast as her unsteady legs would take her toward sanctuary, heedless of the cars barreling down upon her from both lanes, horns screaming at the crazy unkempt lady on a suicide mission to figure out the chicken’s motives for journeying to the other side of the road. Only instead of a triumphant arrival, her toe got hooked on the sidewalk, causing her to face plant within a stone’s throw from what would soon become her only safe haven in life, fracturing her cheek and reopening the jagged cut on her lip.

Laurel can remember so vividly how she literally crawled those last five yards to the front door on her hands and knees, panting for breath and keening in manic desperation, can remember how her bare knees were shredded on the unforgiving concrete leaving behind erratic streaks of blood that took the staff four hours to scrub out the next day. How she got up the stairs and through the front door is not so clear, but she does recall smelling fresh popcorn the second she staggered inside, a scent to this day she associates with safety. She also remembers being greeted by the unbearably kind face of a woman not much older than she is right now, and how that same woman nursed her through the night so patiently and with such gentle care that she wept in her arms until she passed out.

That is why she was at the shelter tonight. To at long last pay it forward in honor of Emma Morrison and all of the other men and women who filtered through her shattered life during her brief stay at Central Covenant Emergency Shelter. After all they did to piece her back together into some semblance of a human being, a herculean feat Laurel still doesn’t understand how they accomplished, the least she can do is help out around the holidays at a place that is doing the same thing for people just like she used to be. People who have been chewed up and spat out by the world, whose loved ones have left them by choice or via the grave, who have nothing and no one to care for them during the one season per year everyone should have someone. Even a wretch like her.

One day she will tell Dinah all of this, because there hasn’t been any one else in her life since Emma that made her want to talk about her past, to air out her anguish, to vent her immeasurable pain. Dinah makes her want to, though, and not just because Dinah has proven herself trustworthy but because Dinah had the audacity to get to know Laurel for no other reason than for Laurel’s sake. Against all objective logic, Dinah chose Laurel, and continues to over and over again. Nobody else has done that since her Ollie and her Daddy died. So there will come a day she will sit Dinah down and divulge the ugly truth behind her radically abrupt spurt of holiday volunteerism. But not today. Especially not on Christmas. Talking about those dark days would sully something precious that has been building between them tonight. Something Laurel can already feel slipping away from her, which causes her to react with her typical knee-jerk abrasiveness.

Lids narrowing in accusation, she pins Dinah down with a cold stare. “You were the one who followed me there. Worried I was about to dive head first into the evil end of the pool again?” Still on the defensive, she squeezes the mug between her hands more tightly to rein in her flaring temper. She hadn’t meant to jump down Dinah’s throat, it’s just lashing out is her default response to emotional upset. Once she told Felicity empathy was a work in progress – well, it is one of many works in progress in her life, coping mechanisms included.

To her credit, Dinah does not take the bait other than to calmly reply, “Of course not.” A pointed look from Laurel, replete with an arched brow, inspires Dinah to amend herself with a shy shrug and cute shrug of her shoulders. “Okay. Maybe a little. Mostly I was curious. You pawned a very important case off on an A.D.A. at the last minute, so I thought I’d find out why.”

Laurel does not understand the reasoning. At all. “You have history with Martinez. I thought you’d be fine working with him while I took some evenings for myself during the holidays.”

For the first time all night, Dinah becomes visibly upset. Her nostrils flare, the muscles in her arms and shoulders tense, and her eyes narrow sharply. “Well, you figured wrong. We worked that case together for over two months, Laurel. You should have seen it through instead bailing on me!”

Taken aback, Laurel returns her mug to the tray. Of all the things for Dinah to get her panties in a wad about, it’s this? As far as Laurel knows, Dinah and Martinez get along swimmingly. They have worked several cases together since Laurel assumed her doppelganger’s duties as District Attorney and have only returned glowing praises about the other in both verbal and hard copy reports. Hell, they’ve even gone out for casual drinks a time or two and had a swell time, which irritated Laurel more than it should have considering she only recently retrieved her attraction to Dinah from the realm of impossible dreams.

Strangely enough, it was working on this case so closely that made her reconsider whether her assessment of Dinah’s sexuality was as reliable as she initially assumed. Maybe that’s why she’s so perturbed. Maybe she thought the same about me? I mean, I wasn’t exactly waving my bi flag for all to see. What if working this case together has opened her eyes the same way it has mine? What if…

Going any further down that road without context is so dangerous Laurel veers a sharp turn on the nearest on-ramp leading to attaining what she needs with a sudden desperation that is as terrifying as it is exciting.

“Okay...what’s this really about?” she poses, daring Dinah to try and finagle herself out of giving an honest answer.

“I just told you...” Laurel waves off Dinah’s sad attempt at deflection as if batting away a pesky fly. “Yeah, yeah. You told me why you were curious as to my so-called pawning off of the Ace Chemical case. I couldn’t help but notice, though, that you’re truly upset about it. And not for the specified reason. This has nothing to do with your investment in this case. Or mine for that matter.”

“Is that so?”

Dinah’s brows shoot up so sharply it feels as if they’re about to clash with her hairline. How did this conversation turn on her so quickly? She’d meant to get Laurel to confess that she dropped the case because her work at the shelter during the holidays had become too important for her to abandon, that she has finally found a purpose for that heart she’s kept so safely guarded with a charming misanthropy she wields like a sword and shield to repel any who seek entry. Only halfway through the sentence it turned into accusation as the abandonment Dinah felt – and yes, she knows that’s irrational; but Laurel makes her irrational, okay! – superseded that initial noble goal. Deep down, she knows Laurel stepping away from the case only hurt her because it meant they wouldn’t be spending any more late nights in each other’s offices or in Laurel’s apartment working into the wee hours of the morning. There would be no more sipping on coffee and chatting about sports during short breaks, no more furtive glances when they thought the other wasn’t looking, no more of their shoulders and hips brushing together as they huddled over a report they’ve both read a dozen times looking for potential weaknesses or loopholes in the prosecution the defense might exploit, and no more excuses to touch Laurel because she’s right there and available and one hundred percent engaged in their hypnotizing dynamic.

Dinah was aggrieved because she wants more of all that, craves it like a drug, yearns for it like a forlorn lover whose partner has been out of reach for far too long. She is afraid that without a legitimate professional excuse to continue this closeness they’ve developed it will wither on the vine and die before ever bearing fruit. And that hurts her, makes her chest and throat physically constrict and her heart ache painfully to the point she feels tears of sheer despair well up from within her very soul. If she cared to examine that phenomenon with any degree of conviction, she knows she would invariably uncover the root cause to be a four letter word that she simply cannot be the one to say first. There is far too much on the line for that, and not just for her but for Laurel, who has probably been hurt more than Dinah has.

And of course Laurel took the opportunity to, in a matter of heartbeats, dissect Dinah’s outburst and arrive at the same conclusion she has. Sometimes the woman’s perceptiveness is downright infuriating.

“From my point of view it is,” Laurel replies with complete confidence. All of the sudden, those spectacular green eyes lose all hints of vulnerability and instead resemble those of a hawk who has zeroed in on her prey. That prey being Dinah. Which sends a jolt of excitement through Dinah’s veins.

Refusing to back down an inch, Dinah harrumphs. “Well, then, since you’re such an expert in the subject of my motives, why don’t you enlighten me as to what they were?”

Laurel shoots her a warning glance that is not so much threatening as out of concern. Dinah doesn’t quite know what to make of it until Laurel responds, then she understands that the concern is for them both.

“You sure you wanna go down this path? ‘Cause there’s no going back once we do.”

Dinah has never been more sure of anything. Four hours ago she would have taken the out being dangled so tempting in front of her. But four hours ago she hadn’t seen Laurel disarmed of the sword that is her double-edged tongue and disrobed of the impenetrable armor that protects a soft underbelly Dinah would wager has been exposed for none asides from Quentin in a very long time. Four hours ago she hadn’t seen Laurel glowing under the adulation of people who clearly care for her as much as she does them. Four hours ago she hadn’t witnessed Laurel giving heartfelt hugs to homeless folks who weren’t the cleanest or the best smelling and engaging them with a mega-watt dimpled smile that actually reached her eyes as she wished them a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year and meant every last word. Four hours ago she hadn’t held Laurel’s hand and realized it felt more right in hers than anyone’s ever has – and that includes Vince. Four hours ago she was not ready to trust Laurel with her heart, because believe it or not she is not as strong as everyone makes her out to be.

But that was four hours ago. Now, things are different. Much different. In such an astonishingly brief window of observation she has seen Laurel express attributes she knew were there along just waiting for the right moment to be unfurled and has at the same time been given a glimpse at a potential future that is so beautiful it takes her breath away. All she needs is for Laurel to make the first move. And if that happens, Dinah is ready and willing to meet her halfway.

Until then, however, she has to maintain the pretense of ignorance, and not just for her sake. Like a skittish dog who has been ritually abused only to be rescued by some compassionate soul, Laurel will need to feel like she is in control of the progression of their relationship or she might panic and bolt. Some might see that as an obstacle they could not overcome, but Dinah is not one of those types. Pride within intimacy has never been her problem. Adaptability is her strength. Take charge or be submissive, so long as she is being shown proper love and respect she can cut either direction depending on the mood. With Vince she liked being a little domineering because he could take it. He had this sixth sense for when she wanted to wear the pants and when she needed him to take the reins. It seems that with Laurel, the sixth sense belongs to her. Maybe time will bear out a different result, and if so she is eager to experience the journey, but if not she is just as happy to be for Laurel what Vince was for her. Hell, it might even be the change of pace she didn’t even know she needed.

For now, though, she can just tell that she’s going to have to give a little bit more than she’s used to, bend a little more readily so that this new, fragile, incredibly thrilling development between them doesn’t break right out of the box.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she narrows her eyes dubiously. “Pssh. You act as if your theory is going to blow my damn mind or something.”

“Maybe it is,” Laurel says matter-of-factly, then softens almost imperceptibly. “Maybe it’s already blown mine and I’m just trying to make sure you’re ready for the fallout.”

Internally, Dinah is squealing like a school girl whose crush is just about to make her dreams come true. She has honestly not felt this way in so long she can’t remember the last time. Externally she utilizes her many years of training, both from the military and the police academy, to maintain a neutral expression.

“Don’t go pulling punches on my account. Not now. One of the reasons I like spending time with you is because you give it to me straight. So if you have something to say, say it.”

Laurel nods, then does not hesitate to accommodate Dinah’s command. “Alright. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Here she pauses briefly, inhales deeply, lets it out slowly, then squares her shoulders before launching into her speech. “So...I think that me handing the case off to Martinez means our collaboration ended earlier than scheduled. I think that hurt you, and way more than you could have predicted. I will concede that you might not understand why that is, exactly. Or if you do, you’re too scared to admit it.”

Getting hot. Keep going. Figuring Laurel might need a bit of encouragement to see this through all the way, Dinah decides to inject a bit of a challenge. Laurel always responds well to those…

“I’m not afraid of anything. Especially a loud-mouthed bean pole like you.”

Laurel’s grin tells Dinah her tactic worked like a fucking charm. She gets herself a well-deserved mental pat on the back as Laurel scoots closer rather than reeling away as most would.

“Getting defensive. I hit a nerve, I see. Don’t worry, you didn’t offend me with that cute little barb. In fact, you just proved my point.”

“Which is?” C’mon. You’ve come this far. Just a little further...

“That you like me.”

Score! 1-0 in favor of Drake. I’m liking the direction this is going more and more by the second.

To really sell her being utterly dense of what is going on here and that Laurel is the one in charge, Dinah furrows her brow in confusion. “Come again…?”

A daring hand hovers over Dinah’s arm, then a long finger begins trailing down the underside of her forearm, which is still bared due to her having neglected to roll her sleeves back down. The touch of tapered nail scores a line of fire into her flesh, leaving behind a trail of heat so intense Dinah would not be shocked to discover on the morning that the line has not faded. The thought draws her eyes down to the tattoo of a flock of birds on the outside of Laurel’s right index finger. The sight elicits an electric buzz low in Dinah’s belly.

Unbidden, she imagines lying on her side upon a reclined chair, Laurel sitting next to her and holding her hand as a carefully selected artist etches the finishing touches into a custom design upon the skin high up on her left rib cage – the side closest to her heart - that appears to be a laurel wreath bisected by a knight’s lance. The image does things to Dinah that cannot account for. Never before has she been stricken with the impulse to get such an intimately personal tattoo to join her Marine Corps insignia, as if she subconsciously is already harboring a desire to be branded as Laurel’s woman.

Shit! Dinah shudders as the image dissolves, leaving her excited and frightened and a little turned on all at once. Thankfully, her return to the present is timely, as she glances up just in time to receive Laurel’s languid response.

“You heard me. You like me. And not just because I keep it so real for you.” Lifting her finger from Dinah’s arm, Laurel slides her hand down until her palm slides into place against Dinah’s. Just like at the shelter, their fingers thread together as if designed to be mated. The expression on Laurel’s face then turns decidedly emotional. “You care about me. For me. Not just because I look like someone you used to love or am a useful ally because of my job, my kickass ninja skills, or my meta powers. In spite of all the hurt between us, you see something in me worthwhile.” She ducks her head, looks up at Dinah through her long lashes. “I can tell because it’s the same way that I care for you.”

Dinah exhales sharply as if punched, just without all the consequential pain. This is it. It’s really happening. All of the tension that has built up since their eyes met across the crowded cafeteria at the shelter has come to a percussive crescendo. On Christmas Eve of all days. Is this my present? Is this what I’ve waited all year for? All my fucking life for? And not even known it ‘til now? Hell yes it is! How she knows, she can’t say, nor would she at the risk of killing the magic. Some things are better left assigned to the mysterious and fickle hands of fate. And since said hands seem to be favoring her tonight, Dinah is more than happy to surrender this one without a fight.

“Laurel...are you saying what I think you are?” she asks after tipping up Laurel’s chin.

Knowing instinctively that this is the moment, the one that will define the rest of her life, Laurel braces herself and summons up every last ounce of her courage. For too long she has pined secretly over Dinah, often times secretly even to herself. There was ample reason, to be sure, but all of those seem to have been rendered moot by whatever Christmas magic is operating to give her the one thing she has wanted more than all else since an audacious, slightly self-righteous, lionhearted woman kept her from murdering a federal judge after she bared her heart on behalf of someone she will always love and was cruelly shot down.

That day Dinah saved more than the life of one heartless judge, she saved Laurel’s too. That was the singular event, the axial minute, the pivotal hour that made her believe she could actually make a go of this good guy shit the other Laurel draped around neck like a cloak of calling. Quentin had started her down this path and his death had kept her upon it by a thread most days. But if Dinah hadn’t gone out of her way when she didn’t have to and all but told Laurel she believed it was possible for her to be redeemed, none of this would be possible. Before then, a backslide was inevitable.

And so Laurel mentally buckles up and floors the gas pedal, if for no other reason than she owes Dinah the truth. Come what may.

“If you think I’m saying every time I’m close to you my heart starts racing like it’s going to jump out of my chest, then yes,” she says, investing her heart into her words as possible never before. She squeezes Dinah’s hand a bit harder, willing her to hear and understand that none of what she is hearing is bullshit, that every last syllable is being wrenched from the bottom of what’s left of her heart. “If you think I’m saying I think about you constantly, then yes. If you think I’m saying I’ve never met anyone like you who makes me feel all the crazy, amazing, scary things you make me feel, then yes. If you think I’m saying I daydream about what it would feel like to hold you, kiss you, and wake up with you in my arms, then hell yes to that, too. Truth is, I’ve felt this way for a while now. I think it started that day outside the Courthouse when you stopped me from doing something incredibly stupid. The way you looked at me…I couldn’t remember the last time anybody looked at me that way, and all I knew was I wanted more. These past few months, I’ve done everything I can to insinuate myself into your life because for whatever twisted reason, I’m drawn to you, and I just can’t seem to help myself.”

For an unbearable few seconds, Dinah says nothing, just sits there staring at Laurel while clenching her hand so hard that Laurel starts to lose feeling in her fingers. Dread rears its ugly head shortly thereafter.

Oh, God. Have I blown it? Have I scared her away? Did I read this all wrong? I’m gonna lose her. Fuck! No, no, no...

“Wow. I, uh...wow.”

When Dinah manages that breathless response, it doesn’t inspire much confidence in Laurel that the panic clawing at her chest and clogging her throat are an overreaction. At this point, addled as her brain is, all she can think of is that she needs to backtrack as quickly as possible and salvage their friendship.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...”

“No!” Dinah’s interruption is a mini explosion that startles Laurel so badly she jumps. “Just...stop right there. That was a lot to take in at once, but not in a bad way.”

The sensation of relief that washes over Laurel is nothing short of blissful. All of that anxiety might have been for nothing after all. If so, that means Dinah does feel the same as her. And if that is true, it means they might actually make a go of this. There is so much on the line here, so much to lose, that the thought is almost terrifying. Almost. An overpowering urge to kiss those hypnotically plump lips of Dinah’s is overriding all other considerations.

With her heart in her throat all of a sudden, Laurel runs her thumb along the back of Dinah’s hand and is pleased to see Dinah shiver in response. “Really?”

“Really.” Dinah smiles crookedly. “Turns out you’re a pretty smart cookie, Lance. Your theory may be more of a fact. Working with you on this case has been amazing. You’ve been amazing. And I know I shouldn’t, but I want to be close to you, Laurel. Closer, even. So much closer.”

That last bit is hardly more than a whisper, which Laurel hears clearly due to their heady proximity. A frisson of pure joy runs down her body because that is the exact same thing she wants. And not just metaphorically. Right now she wants to be closer physically, too, which has some of her old spunk reappearing.

“How much closer, Dinah?” she asks, eyes hooded, nostrils flaring to indulge in the scent of coconut and jasmine that is uniquely Dinah. She inches forward, drawing their heads and upper torsos ever closer. “‘Cause I’m pretty sure there’s some mistletoe in the vicinity I could scrounge up if I need to. You know, if you need an excuse to ask for a kiss.”

Dinah taps her index finger against her chin a couple times, feigning pretending to weight the need for such measures. “Hmmm.” Then she shakes her head gently as her lips slide into an impish smile. “Nah. Direct is more my style.”

“A woman after my own heart. Which, incidentally, is one of the many reasons I love you.” Laurel gasps aloud the instant that very heavy phrase slides off her tongue. She hadn’t meant to say it. “I...I‘m so sorry. That just slipped out.”

But Dinah does not appear shocked or appalled or angry or anything negative really. Instead, she is still smiling as she leans in, her head tilting a fraction as their noses nearly come into contact. They are so close now Laurel can smell Dinah’s breath, sweet with hints of gingerbread and eggnog, as she speaks. “It’s okay. No need to apologize. I liked it.”

“You did?”

“Mmhmm. Say it again, please.” An emphasis is added when Dinah nuzzles the tips of their noses together.

Laurel has never felt so warm and alive. And there is no way in hell that she would refuse that request, even if she had a gun to her head. She can think no better way to die than professing her love for Dinah Drake.

“Dinah.” She pauses, breathes deep, then opens up her heart and lets all of the repressed affection for this incredible woman spill out in three little enormous words. “I love you.”

Heart in her eyes, Dinah responds with every bit as much emotion. “Laurel. I love you, too.” She then nibbles her lip affectedly, head tilting a bit further. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes, you may. Any time you wish,” Laurel says, her heart thudding in her chest as though it has been replaced by a Pamplona bull.

Dinah does not waste any time. Holding Laurel’s gaze, she leans in until their lips are ever-so-lightly together, lets Laurel adjust and brushes them together from side-to-side until Laurel loses containment upon a high-pitched mewl that tears free from her throat, making her sound like a kitten being teased too long with the milk it so desperately craves. Lips curling into a smile, Dinah stops the teasing at last and seals their lips together. It’s their very first kiss, and it feel is so indescribable, so incredibly wonderful that Laurel’s brain short circuits. In that moment, she is reduced to pure sensation, from the tingling of her lips as Dinah gently sucks upon them to the fire coursing through her veins, burning away every last vestige of doubt, fear, and anxiety over whether or not they might be ruining something irreplaceably precious and over whether or not she will ever deserve however much love Dinah is willing to expend upon her. None of that matters when with one kiss

When Dinah pulls away a few seconds later, she hums in appreciation of what has just happened. And then her eyes begin dancing merrily. “Just for future reference, was that little Wesleyan promise you made my Christmas present? Infinite kisses?”

Laurel chuckles at the reference she actually understands. They don’t have The Princess Bride on Earth-2, which is a crime in and of itself, but thankfully Dinah was kind enough to introduce her to one of this world’s classic romantic comedies. Which was the reason she used that phrase. How Wesley felt about Buttercup is pretty much exactly how she feels about Dinah. Hopelessly devoted. Willing to do anything and everything for her. Willing to kill for her, and if she must, die for her. That said, now is not the time for such declarations.

“I actually was going to give you a Colt CQBP,” she says, smirking because she knows how much of a gun nut Dinah is. “But now I’m thinking I like your idea better.”

“Ooo! How did you know I wanted one of those? God, that’s so tempting. I think I agree with you, though. The kisses sound like a much better deal.”

Laurel reacts accordingly, hands going to her chest as if flattered. Because she is. Dinah turning down a gun for her kisses is a pretty big statement. Almost as big as Ollie rejecting a new, spiffier bow in favor of his wife’s smooches.

“Oh, my. I’ve got a sweet talker on my hands. Are you gonna make me regret...”

With a growl, Dinah interrupts the spiel Laurel was about to launch into about giving Dinah a brand new avenue of attack with which to get her way.

“Shut up, woman, and give me more of what I really want.”

“My God, you are so demanding.” Laurel caps off the comment with dimpled grin.

“And you wouldn’t have me any other way,” says Dinah, who then without warning surges forward to claim Laurel’s lips in a searing kiss with none of the tentative nature of the first.

After some indeterminate amount of time exploring one another on the couch with eager lips and combative tongues and adventurous hands, they draw apart reluctantly, their lips breaking contact with a satisfying smack. As she leans away from the sole source of her current inundation with unadulterated bliss, Laurel inadvertently glances up at the clock only to note that it is, in fact, five minutes past twelve. Christmas Eve is officially over, which can only mean one thing.

Reaching out with her left hand, she tenderly cups Dinah’s cheek. “Merry Christmas, Dinah.”

Burrowing into the embrace, Dinah’s answering smile is one for the ages. “Merry Christmas, Laurel.”

Which it most certainly is. In fact, it will turn out to be the most Merry Christmas Laurel has ever had. Until next year, that is, when she wakes up with a gloriously naked and happily sated Dinah sleeping soundly sprawled atop her. Or the next year, where she awakens to a very frisky Dinah kissing and licking up the length of her inner thigh and doesn’t stop until arrival at the Promised Land. Or the year after that when they are engaged and spend an unbelievably awesome Christmas with Sara and Ava back in 18th century at the winter home of the legendary Carolus Rex of Sweden. Or the year after that, the best yet, when her present is little stick with two pink lines.

Some might say Merry Christmas as a perfunctory salutation to friends and family, but not Laurel. She means it every time she says it. And how can she not? Dinah makes every Christmas a merry one for her.

#dctv #arrow #arrow fanfic #fanfic #dinah drake #laurel lance #dinah x laurel #laurel x dinah #aka Dinahmite!#or:#dinahsiren #christmas

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darthspideys · 6 years

Text

Looking back (t.h)

Type: Tom Holland x reader

Word Count: 2607

Summary: Months after you break up, you run into Tom, stirring up old memories

A/N: very long, and very angsty :)

On a warm spring day in central park, you and Tom Holland sat side by side on a bench. He had his arm around you, but the two of you didn’t say anything, you just sat enjoying the others company. For weeks the two of you had been going steady, even moving in together but you still enjoyed the small things about being together Like going back to the spot where you first met, just to sit and revel in what was your relationship. Not to mention it was great to get out of your stuffy New York apartment and get some fresh air.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Tom asked as you stared at the buildings surrounding the park.

“How happy I am.” You replied as Tom planted a small kiss on your cheek. “And it may or may not have something to do with a certain actor who’s in central park right now.”

“Even with me leaving?” He asked.

“You know what they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder. This is what you love, and I love you so I’m not going to hold you back. Plus you have to give those Tumblr fangirls something to watch or I don’t know what they’ll do.

“Perfect answer, I’ll try to remember that when you call me and beg for me to come home.” He smiled, pulling you closer to him.

“Another show of how much I love you.” You replied, snuggling further into him. “Somehow I feel like there is someone here somewhere taking pictures of us. Probably from Daily Mail, they seem fascinated lately.”

“They’re fascinated with anything that walks, has a significant other and has been in a movie or high budget Youtube Video. But don’t tell me you of all people aren’t enjoying the attention.”

“I see you’ve caught onto my vanity.”

“I caught onto it the first time I saw you look at yourself in a mirror, and keep looking for ten minutes.”

“Hey. I was trying to fix my hair okay? It’s hard to live up the curl reputation of the Tom Holland.”

“What?”

“I keep telling you, you have to go to Tumblr and search Tom Holland, you will be creeped out and laugh uncontrollably in the span of two minutes.”

“I think I don’t want to know.”

“Whatever you say.” You laughed, thinking about the things you had seen on Tumblr, you became so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t notice Tom scoot away from you and bend down slightly towards the ground. You turned back to him, “Hey, do you want to go get something to-?” Your eyes went wide, “Tom! Are you-?”

“Proposing-? Not exactly” He smiled up at you. He opened the palm of his hand and revealed a small ring laying on top of his palm, attached to it was a small chain. “It’s a promise ring its supposed to symbolize our commitment to this relationship so it’s not an engagement ring but it’s still pretty important.”

You loved Tom Holland. It was something that months before you had been proud to say but now, after everything, it seemed like something you had to keep to yourself. Something not so easily said after everything that had happened. It was months later and you were still living in your old apartment, sleeping in the now empty bed that used to hold both of you. The apartment that used to hold all your happiness, now empty except for your own loneliness.

You woke up one morning and did your usual getting up routine. Shower, get dressed, eat breakfast go to work. Only you didn’t know that someone else was going to intrude on your regular routine. You were a little late to work on the account of the fact that you had woken up in the morning and then laid down and fell back asleep. You hadn't even had time to eat breakfast you had just rushed out of the house, a cup of coffee in hand, rushing down the crowded New York streets, trying desperately not to be too late.

That's when you ran right into Tom Holland. The impact hit you suddenly, and you almost dropped the coffee before grabbing it right before it hit the ground. “Sorry..” You muttered quietly, compose yourself. You hadn’t even had a chance to look at the man you had run into.

“Wow, you're fast.” but you recognized that voice, immediately.

“Tom-?” You asked in disbelief, you hadn’t seen him in months.

“(Y/N)?” He replied, and the two of you stood there, staring at each other as a deafening silence hung in the air, even with the surrounding chaos of New York.

“I didn’t know you were in the city.”

“We’re filming part of Spiderman 2 here, but I’m off to London soon.”

“Still going between the two?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I-” Still love you.

“It was good to see you, (Y/N).” And with that Tom scurried off, leaving you frazzled and even later for work.

It was the same fight that the two of you had had a million times. You never wanted him to leave, to go film but he had to go. Acting was what he loved to do but he loved you too and he didn’t want to see you upset. So he tried, he didn’t just leave he stayed and he tried to talk to you, tried to make you feel better. Assure you that he was coming back, that he was always going to come back. Only it never seemed to make it better.

“You have to go because I’m not gonna stop.” There were tears rolling down (Y/N)’s face, and she was hyperventilating. “I want you to stay, and I feel like a child, asking their parent not to go to work, and I’m not four Tom so you need to go.”

“I’m not going to leave you like this, (Y/N), what can I do to make it better?”

“You can’t! And that's just it, I want you to stay, I want you to be here with me. I don’t want to have to come home to an empty apartment for three months, but that's just it isn’t it? This is what I signed up for, and I love you but this, this is torture”

“And what you don’t think I miss you too? What that I’m happy to go? I love acting, (Y/N) its what I’ve chosen to do with my life, but it kind of sucks the fun out of it when I’m thinking about my crying girlfriend three thousand miles away.”

“Oh, I’m sorry that I’m ruining this for you. I’m such a burden, your crying girlfriend at home, waiting for you to get back from war, tending to the children and crying every single day.”

“(Y/N), you know I don’t-”

“This is why you need to go. We just end up fighting when you don’t, so I love you okay? I’ll be fine. Have fun. Can’t wait to see the movie.”

You made it to work and told your boss that you had been in the emergency room for an especially bad cold, complete with a fake sneeze and some coughs. Luckily she believed you and you headed right back to your desk, willing yourself to focus on writing the pitches for the studio. You had a lot of work to get done. Only you could barely focus and every other word you typed turned out to be Tom. You would scurry to erase the word before anyone could see it, although no one was looking. That was something you did a lot.

A few hours later, it was time for your lunch break. You rushed out of the building, still hungry from earlier in the morning when you had skipped breakfast-and ran into Tom. You stopped at your favorite cafe, one that you used to go to with Tom but that that point, you were too hungry to even realize that.

On a cold day, you sat in that same cafe, months earlier, eating your food dejectedly. You missed Tom, not so much that you couldn't go on with normal life, but enough that you felt it. You hang out with your friends, you went to work but there always was a Tom shaped hole. When you would laugh and look to your left to see if he was laughing too then you would realize that he wasn’t there.

So there you sat, alone in the cafe, trying to remember if you were going to set after lunch or back to the office. That’s when you heard about 10 shutter clicks and someone scream, “Is that Tom Holland?”

You looked up from your food and saw that it was. There was Tom, smiling as fans stopped to take selfies with him until he looked around the room and saw you. His smile got wider and he said, “Sorry guys just here to collect my girlfriend.”

He walked over and sat across from you at the table. “You look depressing. Eating alone, in our place.”

“What else did you expect me to do? I was hungry, and your the one who cooks.”

“Don't tell me you eat takeout everytime I’m gone.”

“Sometimes I eat ramen.”

“Disgraceful.”

“I thought you were supposed to be gone for another month.”

“We ran really ahead of schedule.”

“And you came all the way back to me?”

“Well, yeah. I love you don’t I?”

“I guess you do.”

At the end of the day, you got home and collapsed onto the couch. Your phone buzzed with a text from your friend, Alex and a link to a daily mail article. You already knew you were in trouble from the title, Tom Holland and (Y/N) spotted together in New York, could a reconciliation be in sight? (Even after that video)

And sure enough, below that was a picture clearly taken on a cell phone of you and Tom in the aftermath of your crash. It looked like the two of you were having a nice conversation, like the two of you had planned on meeting. You sighed, this was exactly what you needed, after everything it seemed like the rumors and stigma surrounding you had finally gone down. Your name had stopped popping on on various celebrity gossip blogs, late-night comedy shows, CNN, and youtube parody videos. Now, this would bring the whole thing up again, and the infamous video would be relayed thousands of times again.

The next day, it was the number one trending video on youtube, again. Your name found itself again on various gossip blogs, TV shows, and Tumblr. You decided that at that point you could just work from home because if anyone saw you they were either going to scream at you or clap you on the shoulder and say you did a good job-again, just had it had been when the video first came out.

Somehow through all of that laying in bed, you remembered that she had never aplogized to Tom. Not really, she had said the hollow, “I’m sorry.” but not what she was sorry for. She had never really, really apologized, never laid it all out and given him the room for him to forgive him. That’s when you came up with a crazy idea, you were going to go apologize to him. It took you an hour but she wrote out an apology in your iPhone notes and got dressed to go to Tom. You practiced what you were going to say in the mirror a good ten times and decided then she was ready to go.

Another twenty minutes later you found herself outside Tom’s new apartment. You had gone there once before to bring Tom something he had left when he moved out. It was dark, and the streetlights were on, as well as the light ion the main living room of the apartment, you could see inside barely, but no one was in the living room. You walked up to the door and almost knocked, but walked back down an onto the sidewalk again. Then you repeated the motion, again finding yourself on the sidewalk. From the sidewalk, you could see Tom and Harrison walk into the living room, smiling and turning on the TV.

It was the third movie premiere you had been to with Tom, and you were still as nervous as it had been the first time. There were so many celebrities around and it was easy for you to feel starstruck and a massive amount of anxiety. You smiled through it, and you wouldn’t let Tom see you nervous because he lived for these, he loved being able to take pictures with fans and talk to his costars and the media.

Needless to say, your emotions were running a little high. So what happened afterward and how bad it got made a little more sense, but only a little. And everyone else found themselves completely surprised and confused.

After the two of you watched the movie, you were heading back out to the car and you stopped at a point at the back of theater that was deserted. That’s when Tom decided to tell you.

“(Y/N) I have something to tell you.” His eyes were serious.

“What?” You smiled back at him.

“I have to move to LA.”

Your smile disappeared and your face dropped. “What?”

“The commute, New York, London, LA it's not working. I have to cut out the middleman if my career is going to work. It’s not all a done deal yet but I want you to come with me.” He took your hands in his and allowed it to sink in.

You would look back on that moment and have no idea what came over you, but in the moment all you could feel was the anger coursing through your veins. “And what? Leave all my friends? My job? What do you expect me to do Tom pack up my whole life for you?”

“(Y/N) I would never ask you-”

“Except that you are!” You tore your hands away from his, violently. “I give so much Tom, I wait for you, and I go to these things. ANd I love you but I don’t have any more to give!”

“(Y/N)-”

“Can you give me a bone? What do you expect me to do follow you around like a puppy? We live together Tom you can’t just expect me to uproot my life, on something you told me at eleven o’clock at night! What kind of one-sided relationship crap is that!”

He stared at you in disbelief. “I don’t think of you that way.”

“Except that you do! It's easy for you to say that Tom when your not the one on the receiving end!” You threw your purse on the ground in frustration, making a loud noise. “You are a selfish jerk Tom Holland, and I’m done! I’m done being your kept women because I can not live like this!” You ripped off your promise ring necklace and there it on the ground. “We are done! So don’t come home, figure it out!”

And with that, you stomped off.

Then the next day the video was posted on Youtube.

You walked up to the door and almost knocked one last time. You looked in the window again, Tom was laughing, Tom was happy, and he deserved that. After everything you had done he deserved that, so you walked down from the door onto the sidewalk and all the way home.

#tom holland x reader #tom holland #tom holland x you #tom holland fanfic #tom holland angst #tom holland imagine #gabbys fics #tom holland fanfiction

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all-sortsa-stuff · 7 years

Text

What may come, part 4

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 2690

Warning: Language

Part 3

The morning that followed, you were up early. A burst of ideas had woken you around 5 am and you had to write them down before they faded into the fog of early morning. You were on your second cup of tea at the kitchen counter writing when Mila came down all dresses and ready to go.

“What are you doing up so early?” The auto timer on the Keurig had filled her cup of coffee, now she stood, taking that first sip of delight for the morning.

“I woke up with ideas! I had to get them down.” Mila laughed as she popped bread into the toaster.

“I’m glad to hear it. I can’t wait to see what you come up with. I know you are going to knock everyone’s socks off.” Excitement had been building in your belly. While you were trying to stay cautious and not get your hopes too high, you could not help the thrill of it all. Having the chance to shoot the teasers for a movie was an amazing opportunity and you did not want to waste it.

“I am supposed to call Mr. Tafuri at nine to go over the rest of my ideas then we will set up a time to do the shoot.” Mila nodded as she buttered her toast and stood against the counter to eat.

“It will work out. I think you already have a good grasp of the project’s concept. There is another copy of the script on my desk if you want to read it and get an idea for the rest of it all in one piece.” Your eyes lit up at the offer.

“That would be great, Mi! Thank you so much.” All but running to the office, you could hear Mila call out behind you.

“Don’t mess up anything in there! It should be right on top.” The script was sitting on top and looked to have many Post-its set in pages throughout. Mila called out her goodbye as you stood there reading the first few pages. By the time nine rolled around you had gotten through most of it and had come up with a few more ideas. In total, you had ten plans for the four main characters. A few of them were just off the top of your head the others had been more elaborate and had developed more after reading most of the script.

You called right at nine. His secretary put you on hold for a few minutes until Mr. Tafuri answered. “[Y/N], I like punctuality. Thanks for calling. What do you have for me?”

Taking a deep breath you explained the ten proposals. He shot down two of the basic ones right off the bat, which did not surprise you. However, he asked question after question on several of the others. He wanted to know what you were thinking and how you wanted to work it with the script. The call lasted just over thirty minutes. All the while, your heart had been pounding in your chest but you were able to answer his questions without stumbling. To you it sounded like a great call.

“How much of the script have you read?” Mr. Tafuri asked after a brief pause.

“I am about two thirds of the way through, sir.” You could only hope that would not be a problem.

“Think you can finish it by this afternoon? I want you to meet with a couple of people from the art and design team. I need some project boards made and presentable by tomorrow. I have a meeting with the promotions department and I want you to be there to show them these ideas. They are the others you have to convince. The budget for the shoot is their territory. You good with that?” The conversation went from 0 to 60 in a very short span of time. He was asking if you were ready to present your ideas to other bigwigs of the movie.

“Umm yeah… I mean yes. I am ready. Whatever you need me to do, Mr. Tafuri.”

“Great. Meet me here at two. And good reading, [Y/N].” The called ended with you trying not to hyperventilate. Closing your eyes you took slow deep breaths counting as you did it. Once you had calmed enough you sent off a text to Mila about what was going to happen. The response thirty minutes later showed her excitement. It was all congratulations and encouragement, which is typical of your sister. She was and had always been your biggest cheerleader no matter what it was.

With the script finished a shower, lunch and rechecking that you had all you needed you left for the studio. By the time you made it to the gate, you were given a badge that you had not had the previous days. Mr. Tafuri left this one for you for you to have access to the back building on site. It was where you were going to meet with the teams. He met you in the lobby as you arrived right on time.

“I like my team on time, awesome. Let’s go meet the designers, [Y/N].” He led you down a long hallway with lots of doors and people then up an elevator to the third floor. Once there he brought you into a rather large room with art supplies and boards on one side and desks on the other. There were four people waiting and as you entered the room another came up from behind you. She scooted around the both of you, with a hand on a round tummy. “Sorry, baby was on my bladder.”

“[Y/N], this is the art and design team. The team lead with the watermelon under there is Kirsten, her assistant Jax., The designers are Elly, Richard, and Jose.” The five of them all smiled and a couple of them waved in your direction. “Team this is [Y/N]. As long as Promotions likes what you all do today, she will be doing the teaser shoot. Now go on and make me look good.” Mr. Tafuri winked as he left the room, leaving you with the team.

“Umm hi. I’m really glad to be here.” You held your folder tight against your chest. Kirsten was the first to step forward and offer her hand.

“Nice to meet you, [Y/N]. I promise we don’t bite during work hours.” This elicited a laugh from everyone and helped calm you slightly. “Show me what you have and let us work our magic.”

Nodding you released some of the force you had holding the folder to your chest. Everyone gathered around one of the tables as you pulled out the papers with your ideas. You had adjusted some of the details but had left the majority of the originals intact. Within a few minutes, five sets of eyes were listening attentively to the ideas that poured from you. Your arms were waving around as you tried to describe some of the more intricate plans you had. Several questions were asked, as well as suggestions about how to adjust a detail or two. When you had finished, you watched as they spoke among themselves firing ideas back and forth and sometimes even finishing each other’s sentences.

Before long they all went to work. The designers had pulled out sketchpads and had all chosen different ideas to work on. Kirsten and Jax were doing something on the computer that you could not see but were talking about colors and print types as they worked. Within a few hours all of the preliminary designs had be completed and were in your hand. While they still had to but redone onto presentation boards and prepped for the meeting tomorrow, they were incredible.

“I can’t believe how wonderful these look. You are all so talented. These are exactly how I envisioned.” The team grinned over at you before high fiving each other.

“I am going to send this to print now; they should be back in a few hours. Can I call you tonight and email them so we make sure this is what you want?” Kirsten had pushed up her glasses on her face as she looked over to you.

“Oh of course. What time do you think it will be?”

“Probably at least after eight.” She stood from the desk and stretching her back.

“Whenever is fine. I will make sure I have my phone and laptop with me at all times. Thank you all so much.” With the exchange of phone numbers, you were out the door. As you made your way down to the lobby, a sigh of relief escaped. This was turning out so well you could hardly stand it. All you wanted to do was tell Mila now.

It was easy to find the set from where you were. You were given immediate access due to your badge and previous visit the few days prior. Everyone looked to be packing up for the day when you glanced down at your watch. It was nearly six; the afternoon had flown by with the flurry of activity. Mila was easy to find as she was shoving papers into her bag. “Glad I caught you before you left.”

“Hey sweetie, how did it go? By the looks of that grin it must have went well.” You felt like you were about to burst with everything you wanted to tell her.

“It went great. I can tell you over dinner. I want a glass of wine and something delicious.” She grinned though shook her head.

“I wish I could do dinner with you tonight but I have to meet with the producers tonight. I am supposed to go over how the project is going and all the really boring shit that I hate. Rain check for later tonight?” Though you were a little disappointed, you would still be able to tell her every detail later on. Most likely after your call with Kirsten.

“Definitely. I am going to grab a pizza and a bottle of wine on the way home then. I have a call with the design lead after eight so whenever you get home later.” Mila hugged you tight before pulling her bag onto her shoulder.

“Great. I will see you later.” You watched a moment as she walked off with three men towards the opposite end of the set. Turning quickly towards the exit you did not watch where you were going and ran directly into a broad chest. The folder that had been in your hand went flying sending papers everywhere.

“Oh shit. I am so sorry.” When you looked up to further apologize, that bright beautiful smile of Tom’s shone down at you.

“No, [Y/N] I am sorry. I was going to say ‘hello’. I did not expect you to turn so quickly. I should not have been so close. Here let me get your papers.” He crouched down trying to retrieve the ones directly at his feet. You followed suit.

“I should have been paying better attention. My head was in the clouds.” Laughing quietly he handed you some of the papers as you pulled a few more into the folder.

“You do look quite happy today. I hope that means you are having a lovely day.” Just listening to his voice was weakening your knees.

“Yes it was a great day actually. I got a lot accomplished and I am going to meet with the Promotions team tomorrow. I am pitching my ideas with them and Mr. Tafuri. If they like them then… well I will be given the green light for the shoot.” As the last of the papers were set safely inside the folder, you both stood looking at the other.

“That is wonderful. I am elated for you. We should celebrate.”

“Oh no, I don’t want to celebrate. I haven’t gotten the job yet.” Tom shook his head like he wanted to argue, but he refrained.

“Fine we won’t celebrate the job. How about we get dinner and a drink to celebrate having a great day?” His excitement made him even more cute and difficult for you to refuse.

“Alright let’s go get something to eat. I can’t drink too much. I still have a business call tonight.”

“Wonderful! Let me grab my things from my trailer and we can go. Follow me.” The walk to the trailer was short and he was quick in packing up. The drive to the restaurant was short. It was just down the street from the studio. A lovely little pizza place that smelled of wood burning ovens. You could not help but let all the details of your day just pour out as you sipped on your wine. It felt so good to tell someone and Tom seemed very eager to listen. The smile on his face and his questions had kept the conversation going for some time, well after the pizza was finished and the wine bottle empty. Before either of you knew it you had been sitting there talking for hours. You found he was very easy to talk to and he found a way to bring you out of the shell you tried to hide in before people got to know you.

“It must not have been that bad. You are sitting here aren’t you?” Tom laughed as he leaned back in the chair crossing his arms over his chest.

“It was awful! I screamed the entire time and I refuse to go on any ride at an amusement park that drops you that far. But yes… I guess I survived.” Laughing came easy, you found with him. Tom was not how you expected in your mind. Mila was right when she said how down to earth he was. Your phone started to vibrate in your pocket, it was Kirsten. Somehow, you had forgotten about the call and your laptop was in the car. Holding a finger up to Tom, you answered.

“Hey Kirsten! I am so glad they are ready. Give me just a moment to go get my laptop. I had lost track of time.” Flashing a smile to Tom, you motioned that you were going out to the car. He nodded before summoning the waiter over for the check.

You chatted with Kirsten as you tried to get your laptop to boot up with the wireless hotspot you had. As you waited, you watched Tom walk out of the restaurant and towards your car. He stood there quietly waiting with you. Once the machine had finally loaded you were able to open your email.

“Oh my God, Kirsten…”

“Pretty good?”

“Pretty good doesn’t even cut it. They look fantastic. I can’t wait to show these off tomorrow.” Turning the screen towards him, you wanted Tom to be able to see what the design team had come up with. His response was an enthusiastic nod and grin.

“I’m so glad. You can pick them up in the morning before the meeting. See you then.”

“See you!” Ending the call, you screamed with excitement. “This is so freaking amazing. I can’t believe this is really happening.”

“You deserve it. The world should see your talent.” He leaned over to hug you tightly. You almost forgot your excitement for a moment being so close to him. When he pulled back, he gave you an odd look. “Are you alright? You went a bit flush.”

“Umm yeah. Fine. Just all the excitement.”

“Good. [Y/N], look I was trying to build up the nerve all night. This wasn’t exactly how I wanted it to go. I mean I am so glad we had dinner tonight. Together I mean. Bloody hell I sound like a fool.” Narrowing your eyes, you canted your head in confusion looking up at him as he was raking his hand through his hair.

“What do you mean? You aren’t a fool.”

“I sound like one. I mean, [Y/N] would you like to have dinner with me? A real dinner date where I pick you up and we have a lovely time together?”

Part 5

Tags: @feelmyroarrrr @bolontiku @aquabrie @malindacath @almondbuttercup @falloutwyntxr @white-chocolate-mocha-fan @thejulesworld @shutupiminlooove @portietomednalynn @ex-bookjunky @frenchfrostpudding @saraholdtheh972

#tom hiddleston #Tom Hiddleston fandom #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x reader #reader x tom hiddleston #thomas hiddleston #thomas hiddleston x reader

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raging-violets · 6 years

Text

Fictional Kiss Prompts - 02

2. moving around while kissing, stumbling over things, pushing each other back against the wall/onto the bed

ZackxRiley, Age; 19

It was the perfect night to go on a date within New York City. It was warm enough that neither a coat nor a sweatshirt was needed to combat the cooling temperatures. Yet, every few seconds a crosswind would blow, that’d make even those that were the warmest snuggle up to those that were closest to them.

So much so that while Zack and Riley walked back from a soccer game on NYU’s campus, she moved closer to his side and tipped an arm around his waist. Zack chuckled and dropped his arm around her shoulders, bringing her to his side to press a kiss to her temple.

“Are you cold?” He asked.

“No,” came the immediate response.

Zack couldn’t help but chuckle. He knew how untrue her words were. How hollow. He didn’t need to feel her shiver to know, didn’t need to run his fingers over the goosebumps that cropped up on her arms. He could tell just form knowing her. She was used to being in warmer climates and disliked the cold so much that when it was winter in New York—and back when they were in Boston—she refused to go anywhere without layers upon layers of clothing…all the while denying she was cold.

Even through their stroll back to his and Cody’s apartment, Zack couldn’t help but smile. It was always funny to him how tough she tried to be when he knew—and enjoyed—the many times that she would cuddle next to him, under the guise she just wanted to cuddle. Which was lie. He knew they both preferred to make out than to cuddle, it was one of the many things they had in common. Though they also both admitted there were times they simply wanted to spend time together.

“I wish I didn’t have to leave.”

Her words grabbed Zack’s attention immediately. Not just because of what she’d said, those words were said verbatim at their most vulnerable moments. When they knew they had to be split apart at some point. When a trip to visit was coming to an end sooner than they’d wanted. Zack ignored it the best he could, tried to pretend it wasn’t happening.

She forced him to acknowledge it. She was leaving the next day. And he managed to go more than twenty minutes without thinking about it this time. Nevertheless, Zack didn’t do anything more than squeeze her shoulder and keep walking, moving closer to his apartment. Once they got inside they could cuddle up and watch a movie, hang out with Cody and Rhuben, hang out with Woody or Maya or Addison. Anything but think about it.

Think about how much it ripped his heart each time he had to see her leave. She must’ve had it on her mind, he forced himself to stop when they arrived at the door to his apartment. Zack kept from looking at her, didn’t want to get lost in the sadness in her eyes, knowing it’d only take minutes for him to wallow in his own depression.

“So, I was thinking,” Riley said slowly. Warning bells immediately went off in his head. Those words, even coming from him, meant nothing but trouble. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help himself and risked a glance at her. Funny, she looked pretty damn happy for someone who was supposedly so sad to leave. “You know how I had to switch my major, yeah?”

Zack nodded. He’d been on the phone with her for days as she cried over having to change her Pre-Med plans, unable to fulfill her dreams of being a doctor because of her constant traveling and—realistically—only so much homework could be done remotely. Zack grimaced, knowing he was partly why she had to change.

“Well, it was supposed to take three years for me to complete uni, now it’ll take four.” She squeezed his hand, stepping closer to him. “But with taking mostly art and graphic design classes, it’s better for me, time-wise. Things are a bit more flexible…”

“So?” Zack had no idea where she was going. In the back of his mind, he was already secluding himself in his room for a few days.

“So,” Riley repeated. She rolled her eyes for good measure. “Rhu and I were talking…what if we…stayed out here for a semester? With you lot?”

She looked at him expectantly. Up through her eyelashes, which he knew was a way to hide her apprehension. It would only take a few seconds before she’d move her hand up to scratch her forehead, to hide her expression even further. But Zack couldn’t hide his response.

His overjoyed, overecstatic, overenthused response to grab her by the face and kiss her with everything he had. Out there, in the hallway for everyone to see. In the back of his mind he could hear Mr. Moseby’s voice ‘No kissing in the lobby!’. It wasn’t a lobby, it was a hallway, outside his own apartment, that he’d now be sharing with his girlfriend.

Yes, life was good.

It could rival a movie moment. Those moments where the guy would grab the girl up in his arms, and she’d wrap her legs around his waist and they’d kiss passionately, grin at each other, keep kissing. Fade to black. Credits Roll. Happy ever after. But this time, he was the one who was super happy. He was the one with the surprise dropped on him like a Spiny Shell form Mario-Kart that blasted him sky-high. He was the one who was going to get that movie moment.

Zack tilted his head to the side, deepening the kiss. Lulling Riley into a false sense of security. He felt her grinning, her hands resting along his waist, grasping the hem of his t-shirt between her fingers while Zack’s hands were on her shoulders. His gently ran his fingers over her collarbone. Could feel goosebumps—new goosebumps—pop up along her skin as he did so. Then he moved, pressing his hands tightly into her shoulders for leverage and jumped up.

“Zack!”

Riley’s cry—equal bouts of surprise, frustration, and amusement, was muffled by Zack pressing his lips against hers, wrapping his legs against her waist, the same way she’d do to him if he moved to carry her. Immediately, Zack knew it was a bad idea. He felt Riley’s knees buckle beneath her as she staggered to hold up his weight. The second problem, she had her keys in hand and was moving to unlock the door. Her hand shot back to his thigh seconds before she slammed his back against it, using the weight of her body pressing against his to hold him up. It gave her enough leverage to free her hand, to smash the key into the lock and frantically twist the doorknob to open the door.

Nevertheless, Zack was impressed. Riley continued to kiss him with as much passion as she usually did when kissing him, but he could feel her starting to sink closer and closer to the floor, unable to contain his weight.

While contained in their lip-lock, Riley struggled to walk further into the apartment. She bumped into the coffee table, that threatened to upend them to the carpet, pushed off against the wall she painfully collided her shoulder into—painfully jabbing her fingers into his ribs when laughed, and headed towards his bedroom. As the seconds stretched into minutes Riley increased her shuffling speed, the sound of her dragging footsteps over the carpet reminiscent of a train picking up speed. Her fingers pressed firmly into Zack’s thighs while simultaneously sliding down his legs. Zack laughed to himself, breaking his lips from hers only for that moment, wanted to give her some help. He tightened his grasp on Riley’s shoulders to hoist himself him up even higher.

If he were lighter, it would’ve been an easy transition. The rapid change of weight was their downfall. Zack could hear Riley make a squealing in desperation before he smothered it with another kiss. Before she made up her mind to dump him as quickly as she could.

Before she, half-running, half falling, pushed Zack onto the bed. She didn’t make it far enough. The two crashed to the ground, Zack’s back scraped against the bed post before landed on his ass, Riley sprawled across his lap. Despite the pain that blazed up his spine, Zack laughed, wrapping his arms around Riley and cradled her against his chest.

“Boofhead. You’re too heavy.” Riley pushed her hair back from her face, laughing quietly as well. She locked her gaze with him and said, “I’m never doing that again.” She shoved him hard on the shoulder.

“Deal,” Zack agreed. And to prove it, he angled her head up and gave her a proper kiss.

End scene.

Credits roll.

CodyxRhuben

Ice cream had always been a treat for Cody. A “congrats on your 100th A-plus” treat. A “do well in school for the week and we’ll do something special” treat. A “don’t tell mom about this” treat.

But, it had never crossed his mind how...sensual it could be.

Something as simple as sharing an ice cream sundae with his girlfriend fired synapses in his brain in a way that completely caught him off guard. He couldn’t even remember what it was that he and Rhuben had talked about.

Something, something, art installation, something, something, weekend trip, something. He couldn’t remember the last time he had ever zoned out so badly. Or ever. His focus and attention span was something he prided himself on. Then again, a pretty girl had always been able to turn his mind into mush...and embarrassingly enough, to fart. At least he grew out of that. Puberty would have been much more of a nightmare had he not.

This is brutal. A simple ten minute walk back to his apartment felt like it would stretch on forever. In all his time at university in New York, he knew the city wasn’t exactly known for it’s pedestrians to wait at crosswalks before crossing the street, but he would. Tonight though, he caught himself aimlessly walking into the middle of traffic. Three times.

As soon as they had stepped through the apartment door, Cody had pulled her to him and smothered her noise of surprise with a searing kiss. Kicking the door shut behind him, he shifted his weight forward, walking her backwards into a coat rack, an end table, and through a pile of discarded shoes.

He felt her tightly grip handfuls of his shirt. She pushed against him, a startling contrast of the pressure on his chest with the light, teasing kisses they traded. His shoulder blades collided with the wall, elbow swinging back to hit the thermostat.

“Mrph!” He used his hand to grip his elbow, the other tightening his grip on the curve of her side. He wasn’t going to let her slip away from him. The lingering taste of vanilla, the hint of cherries, and the tinge of chocolate on her breath, her tongue was too intoxicating.

A small chuckle rumbled in her throat. He could feel her lips form a smirk against his. Two could play that game. No one could ever say he wasn’t competitive when it counted. This was just payback from before. Digging his fingers into her hair, he walked her backwards until her lower back collided with the kitchen table.

“Um, ow,” she said, releasing him. One hand went to massage her lower back. The other lifted in a wave. “Hey, Zack.”

Cody gasped for air, partly due to his burning lungs, and partly from the words that she had just said. It took another moment for his brain to jump start and working properly again.

Eyes widening, Cody whirled around to face his brother who was settled on the couch, eyebrow lifted in amusement. “Sup?” Cody asked. Zack’s other eyebrow met his first one at the crack in his twin’s voice. Cody moved to place his hand down on the kitchen table, but missed and stumbled to catch his balance. “How--how long have you been there?”

“Long enough.” He wiggled his eyebrows, smile widening almost devilishly.

“Where’s Riles?” Cody cleared his throat, trying to get his voice back to normal.

“Art studio. Night class today, remember?”

Face burning bright red, Cody made a beeline for his room. From behind him he heard, “What’d you do?”

“Got ice cream.”

He heard Zack laugh. “I knew it had to be something vanilla that did it for him.” He laughed harder. “Pun intended.”

“Ok, hot shot, what is it for you and Riles?”

“Hmm...When she calls me names.” There was the usual flirty lift to his voice when Zack said those words.

“Figures.”

Her light footsteps preceded her form appearing in the doorway. Face a bright red, her blue eyes looked a bit darker than they usually did. “What was that about?”

Cody shrugged his shoulders, removing his shoes and carefully placed them on the shoe rack by the door. “Sorry,” he said, turning to face her, “I just--” He didn’t finish his sentence as she pressed a hand to his chest, walking him back to the edge of his bed. Backs of his knees hitting the side of the mattress, he lowered himself into a seated position, and then onto his back.

Rhuben curled up beside him. “Wasn’t exactly complaining, mate, just looking for an explanation.”

[ Fictional Kiss Prompts | Prompt #1 ]

#fictional kiss prompt #our writing #Zack Martin #Riley Jackson #Cody Martin #Rhuben Jackson #Suite Life #slozac #suite life of zack and cody #prompt

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