#( good thing ( for him ) his nephew is a bit dense (( affectionate )) )

[endawn]

also had a thought related to pax's own death -- he did, in fact, try to contact ocato when the battle was lost. to ask for help. at some point, pax was stuck by an arrow laced with magicka poison that nullified his magic. him being a grand marshal of the legions, he had a sending crystal of sorts which would cast a projection of himself through another crystal it was bound to. it had been placed in the council meeting hall in the event he was unable to reach the palace but his attendance was still mandatory. ocato waited in the hall for news or request for aid, but pax never did. or, at least, ocato thought this was the case. surus, pax's uncle and fellow member of the elder council, convinced ocato to leave and get some rest. he had been fretting over it for days, after all. surus offered to watch it for updates. pax mustered what he could of his magic and connected with the other crystal. in the chaos, he was able to plead for aid - they were overwhelmed, send reinforcements from the nearest garrison. pax could see his uncle sitting in a chair facing the projection. heard him saying something. the poison overwhelmed his magic and the connection ended. help never came.

[cinnamonest]

The existence of Shenhe has me thinking about the concept of an older exorcist clan aunt to Chongyun and an extremely jealous Xingqiu who is absolutely down bad, down horrendous, down atrocious for this woman

Like. Shenhe herself has a more distant/cold persona but imagine a different sweet auntie that's fully loving, doting, teasing, definitely on the verge of ara-ara'ing her sweet baby nephew because how could you not?? Look at how cute and dense he is, she thinks he deserves coochie just for existing honestly (which is 100% true, but his friend would disagree). You're the hot aunt who is definitely used to having cute young men lust after you and all that, so it's not surprising when your nephew gets blushy around you or when his friends tend to stutter in your presence. And you egg them on to some degree, wearing all the lowest necklines and shortest of dresses/skirts possible without being too obscene for public. But while you enjoy doing that to all the young blushy boys of the area, of course you're going to be extra affectionate to your family, it's only natural. Going on and on whenever you run into him and his friend in the harbor area, ruffling his hair and cooing at him in that doting maternal sort of way, telling him he's gotten taller since you last saw him, gotten so handsome, such a sweet boy, on and on goes the praises and fussing, full-on front hugs that smother his face into your chest, forehead kisses, pinching his cheeks in that teasing way while you talk to him in that overly-saccharine voice. Absolutely disgusting. Who would ever enjoy being treated in such a way. Certainly not him, Xingqiu thinks to himself, he's very very glad Chongyun is on the receiving end of that and not him. He's glad you only reach around when you're done and give him a quick pat on the head and say some sweet things about how cute he is and... that's it. Well, not that he's upset, he didn't want a warm face-in-tits hug, he was just kind of expecting you to do the same to him. But he's glad. He was just kinda mentally preparing himself for it, that's why his face looked a bit surprised when you didn't, and just walked off after that. Dodged a bullet, really. And while it's certainly awful and not something he would ever want, he does scoff a bit at how Chongyun seems so embarrassed. It seems... ungrateful. Shouldn't he be happy she loves him so much? Again, not that it's something he wants. But, you must be hurt by being told it's embarrassing and the way Chongyun draws back from your touching, right? Or so he thinks. So, he's extra nice to you, just to make you feel appreciated, that's all. So he should become acquainted, that only makes sense. Of course, he thinks, she clearly views Chongyun as a kid, but! That actually provides him with a good opportunity, if Chongyun is there, he'll seem even more mature and intelligent by comparison! And that's bound to make a great impression. While the affection wouldn't be so bad (again, not that he wants it, of course), he would hate for her to have that same cooing, diminutive tone as if she sees his as a kid or something, so he just has to impress her, which should be easy given his mature persona that he totally has and his knowledge on many things and the fact that he's very well-read.

But. You don't. He is bewildered, flabbergasted when you talk to him in that same voice even when discussing intellectual topics! Do... Do you think he's dumb? Did the "be associated with Chongyun" plan backfire and now she thinks he's just as dense? Is he not impressive enough? He starts off just trying his absolute best to appear more mature and intelligent, but unfortunately in your eyes it just makes him even cuter, he's trying so hard to be taken seriously! How adorable. He likes your attention, of course, but in his jerk-off fantasies you're telling him how you're so impressed that he's so mature and well-learned for his age! Not calling him cute! Not only that, but even though you have been at least acknowledging him, you still pay far more attention to your own nephew -- who doesn't appreciate you or your touches, who gets all embarrassed because of you, who doesn't deserve those hugs -- than him! The one who actually has gone out of his way to deserve it! Fortunately, he has alternative methods, other metaphorical weapons in the arsenal -- he can always pull out the expensive gift method of making you like him. Nice clothes, jewelry. He pays for your meals when you two go out -- well, he likes to pretend it's you two. In reality, poor Chongyun begged him to go with him in hopes that his presence would deter you from becoming too overbearing and keep things more PG if Xingqiu is there, to which he *begrudgingly* obliges, anything for a friend, even though he totally has better things to do with his time and doesn't see this as an opportunity, nor does he kinda push poor Chongyun to the side and pretend in his head it's a date.... And you accept it, you're sweet, but you still... prefer... your nephew. After everything he's done. Unbelievable. Over time he starts getting more visibly bratty, more desperate, more blunt. His smile twitches, he clenches his jaw, clears his throat more. every now and then he finds himself getting snappy at his friend when you're on your dates where he's totally not the third wheel, but he apologizes as soon as he does, saying he's just a bit tired today. Due to desperation, he gets more obvious about it, directly tries to ask you in a casual way that doesn't sound super obvious (it does) exactly why you like Chongyun so much? After all, you deserve to be with-- ah, spend time with someone who appreciates you. Surely you have someone like that. Anyone come to mind? ...Anyone at all...?

[clandonnachaidh]

Remember Remember the Fifth of November

“D’ye think she’ll be warm enough?”

I looked down at our daughter and swallowed the urge to comment on the fact that he’d asked that very question at least ten times in almost as many minutes. His strong jaw was clenched in concentration as he wrestled a cosy knit hat onto her head, trying to be as delicate as he could so as to not wake her but having to go to war with her already abundant curls as they fought back against constriction. Brianna was in my favourite place, cocooned in a wrap that held her close to my chest with her head resting heavily on my shoulder as she slept. I even welcomed the drool that would no doubt be spilling from her parted lips as she dreamed.

Amongst all the other blessings that having a child of our own brought to us, the fact that she was such a good sleeper was not one to go unmentioned.

I smiled softly at the sight of my husband, huge and imposing in every way but somehow unbelievably gentle when it came to his daughter. Jamie was looking at her with the sheer adoration that appeared only when he was looking at Brianna.

“She’ll be fine. Besides, it’ll be warm beside the bonfire.”

“Aye but nae too close,” Jamie warned me, pointlessly.

“Don’t worry, lad, I don’t have any inclination to launch our daughter into the flames.”

He quietly muttered ‘dinna even joke’ under his breath as he put an arm around me and pressed a kiss to my temple, showing me that I was forgiven for my attempt at comedy.

Brianna shuffled slightly so I checked that she was comfortable, made sure that her little booties were firmly on her feet and saw that her hands were cradled in tight fists under her chin. Jamie retrieved his favourite Barbour jacket from the wardrobe and slipped into it, pulling his own beanie down around his ears before he caught sight of the three of us in the mirror.

Of course I was biased but the picture reflected in the glass was glorious. We looked like the perfect little family. Jamie towering over his two girls, ever the protector. I hadn’t been aware that I was beaming with pride but when I saw myself, my face was split into an open grin. Our little unit, all bundled up against what would be a cold autumn night, complete with matching wool jumpers that had been a gift to Jamie and myself from Jenny the previous Christmas with the promise of a smaller version being underway for Brianna to receive this year.

We could hear Ian and Murtagh having a loud discussion about where best to stick the Guy even through the thick walls of Lallybroch. With a chuckle, Jamie decided that it was time for him to wade into the discussion lest his godfather and brother-in-law decided to try and drown the other in the basin full of water that had been set up so the children could bob for apples. Just as we made it into the kitchen, Wee Jamie was caught red handed trying to stick a single finger into the treacle that was cooling around the toffee apples that were supposed to have been a surprise for later. A fact that wasn’t lost on my husband.

“Yer ma will tan yer hide and ye ken fine well.” Jamie grabbed his namesake around the waist with his free arm and lifted his giggling nephew out into the cold air, his other arm never dropping from the shield that he had created around Brianna and myself.

Lallybroch had come to be our home. It was beautiful in the spring with the first buds beginning to bloom and the small walk down to the burn was worth it for a dip in the midst of boiling hot summers. Of course, it was picturesque enough to be on a postcard when it was covered in soft, fluffy snow but my favourite had to be autumn. The trees that surrounded the land had all turned, greens deepening until they turned bright orange and red. It hadn’t been too windy so even though the ground was covered in a deep layer of leaves, the huge trees were anything but bare.

“Go and sort them out before I stuff one of them into the Guy’s outfit masel’,” Jenny’s voice came from behind us and Jamie snorted a laugh as he moved towards the two men who were still having words with each other over the correct placement of the effigy that had lovingly been made from potato sacks and straw with a somewhat terrifying hand-drawn face thanks to the efforts of Wee Jamie and his little sister Maggie.

“Mary, Michael and Bride, they’re worse than the weans sometimes,” Jenny sighed heavily, a sentiment I was not going to disagree with. We watched the three men bicker over this and that before finally coming to the conclusion that they would play rock, paper, scissors to determine the outcome of a very simple issue.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” I laughed as Murtagh clipped Ian around the head, clearly not happy with the result. Victorious, Ian pulled the physical representation of Guy Fawkes from the ground and placed him proudly on the bonfire, balancing him right in the middle of a particularly dense patch of branches to serve as a sort of throne.

I hadn’t noticed Jenny had gone until she reappeared with two mugs in her hands, spirals of steam rising and disappearing into the air.

“I slipped something special intae yer hot chocolate, mo phiuthar,” Jenny gave me a wink as she pressed the warm mug into my hand. I inquisitively stuck my nose close to the rim and felt a wry smile creep onto my face as I confirmed my suspicions with a look at my sister-in-law.

“That creme brûlée liqueur I got you?”

She nodded before taking a solid glug from her own cocktail, “The very same.”

From his place at his dad’s side, Wee Jamie bolted towards us and pulled at his mother’s arm, dragging her towards her husband as he begged the two of them for the bonfire to be lit.

With a look down at my own sleeping offspring, I took a sip of my hot chocolate and closed my eyes appreciatively, letting the warmth flow down my throat and into my chest.

“Christ alive, Claire.”

Jamie’s husky voice appeared from behind me and I smirked at him, knowing that only my husband could be one of the only men to see his wife enjoying a hot drink and make it a sexual thing.

“There’s booze in it. Here, try.”

I offered my mug to him but instead he closed the gap between us, careful to cradle Brianna’s head in one of his hands, and kissed the taste from my lips.

“Delicious.”

“Uncle Jamie, hurry! Da’s doin’ it!”

We all convened around the modest structure that had been built from old fence posts, planks from barn doors and old bits of timber from wooden pallets. I spied the leg of a kitchen chair that had met an explosive end the previous Hogmanay after a drunken Jamie and Murtagh had fallen into it during what had started as an eightsome reel and quickly descended into the two men trying to spin each other as hard as possible until they both lost their footing.

As if she knew that it was time for the festivities to start, Brianna started to make the little noises that meant she was beginning to wake.

“Ah, the wee snuffle pig is comin’ around, is she?” Jamie whispered soft words over her as his hands began to untangle his daughter from the folds of the wrap. I giggled at the nickname that he’d given her and stretched the tired muscles of the small of my back now that I didn’t have an extra 10kg of weight hanging off of me. Even though she was only a year old, Brianna was affectionately referred to within the family as ‘the long baby’ due to the Viking genes that had been passed down through her father.

As her sleepy eyes began to blink open, the first thing in her line of sight was her father which produced a rather spectacular smile.

“Daaaaaa,” she groaned with joy.

It was the only thing that she said, not yet having mastered any sort of name for me. She had, however, had given me the gift of a very specific, very shrill screech to know when it was mummy that was looking for. As much as I joked about him pipping me to the post, it was my favourite thing to see Jamie’s utterly radiant smile each and every time she said it.

“Did ye have a nice wee sleep, m’annsachd?” he asked as he kissed her head and then each cheek for good measure.

“Look, darling!” I put on my best excited face and pointed towards the bonfire where Murtagh held a torch and Ian held Maggie on his hip, Wee Jamie at dutifully at his side.

“Remember, remember, the 5th of November! Gunpowder, treason and plot! We see no reason why gunpowder treason should ever be forgot!”

With a round of applause for the two Murray children, Murtagh put the torch to the woodpile.

It went up with a whoosh causing Murtagh to stagger back slightly. He caught himself before subtly giving the finger to Ian who was doubled over laughing.

“Ye’ve got a bit less beard the noo!”

Shaking my head at the childish antics of the two eldest men in the family, I set my sights on the reflection of the flames dancing around in Brianna’s beautiful blue eyes. A lighter higher up, I saw the same vision replicated in the eyes of her father.

“D’ye like it, Bree? Can ye see the manny on the top there?”

“One year old might be a touch young to start explaining about why we burn a man on a bonfire, Fraser,” I said sardonically.

He made a face at me before bringing his mouth down to meet mine, Brianna’s pudgy hand caught somewhere between our bottom lips.

“She’ll be raised on stories of rebels, Sassenach. Guy Fawkes and Robert the Bruce and the like.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, “Any women in that list?”

“Aye, ‘course. Joan of Arc, Sophie Scholl. All the good ones.”

I nodded once with a smile to tell him that I was happy with his additions and we turned back to the bonfire, watching as the effigy burned in front of us. Jamie secured Brianna on his hip, burying his face into the riotous curls that had escaped from her hat and delighting in the resulting giggles. His other arm was wrapped around my side, sheltering me under his arm. Despite the cold, he was warm enough for all three of us.

We watched as the flames licked and crawled over the wood, bursts of air popping as the heat became too much. It was a beautiful clear night, even with the smoke from the bonfire billowing upwards and all at once, a huge explosion of white light lit up the night sky.

Brianna’s face at the sight of her first firework was something I knew that both Jamie and I would cherish forever. Her mouth hung open, eyes glittering with excitement as the colours burst in the sky. White and blue and green and red illuminated the pale skin on her face and it was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen.

She began to make breathy noises of awe, her little hand gently resting on Jamie’s cheek just to make sure that he was watching it all unfold with her. He quickly snuck a glance at me and smiled knowingly when he saw the tears in my eyes. A laugh snuck out of me, ready to dash my eyes and make a self-deprecating comment about being a silly, emotional mum but Jamie pulled me tighter against him and laid a kiss on the crown of my head.

“I am the luckiest man alive,” he announced. “Happy Bonfire Night, my beautiful lasses.”

[sydneysageivashkov]

Spun Her Around On The Damp Old Stones

Captain America had done his duty. Steve Rogers still had a life to live.

AO3 | ff.net

Steve could never say when he’d first thought of it.

Maybe it had been when he saw Peggy in her office, looking so beautiful and competent that it made Steve’s heart hurt. Maybe it was when Bucky said, “I’ll miss you, pal,” like he already knew. Maybe it was as he returned the soul stone and stared into the withered, tired face of the embodiment of evil. Maybe it was as he stared down at the Pym Particles, ready to return to 2023.

Maybe it was all of them. It didn’t matter when, exactly, he’d had the thought. What mattered was that he materialised into existence in Brooklyn, 1947, on a cool, autumn afternoon, red and orange leaves blowing through the street around him.

Captain America had done his duty. Steve Rogers still had a life to live.

-

He found Peggy in an automat. Steve spotted her entirely by accident, just happening to glance in the window as he passed. She was chatting to a waitress, smiling in a way that reached her eyes. He took a deep breath, opened the door, and stepped inside.

The bell over the door rang, and Peggy glanced up – a spy’s instinct, he thought, because he had never known Natasha, Clint or Fury to not glance up at an opened door. Peggy froze, the fork dropping from her hand. The waitress looked up at Peggy’s reaction, and her mouth dropped open.

He knelt down next to her chair, looking up at her still-frozen expression. Very gently, he took her hand. “I’m so sorry I’m late.”

Peggy’s lip trembled. “You couldn’t call your ride?”

Steve huffed out a laugh, half torn between genuine laughter and tears. “I couldn’t call my ride,” he agreed.

She brushed her free hand against his cheek tentatively, almost slumping in relief as her fingers touched his face. “Howard told me he stopped,” she said. “If I’d known, I would have come, I would have…”

“It wasn’t Howard,” he said. “It’s a long story, Peggy. God, it’s the longest story.” Natasha. Tony. Sam and Bucky, Wanda and Clint, Rhodey and Nebula and Rocket and Carol and Okoye.

Without taking her eyes off him, Peggy said with deliberate calmness, “Angie, I’m going to need the bill, now.”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, of course,” said the waitress, glancing between them. She shuffled off and returned only a moment later, handing Peggy the cheque and hissing, “You’ve been holding out on me, English.”

“Sorry, Angie,” said Peggy, rather unapologetically.

Angie grinned, her eyes bright and laughing. “Sure you are, English. You get going with lover boy here, and I’ll see you later.”

“See you later,” repeated Peggy, and dragged Steve up and out of the automat.

-

“Are you going to tell me your story?” asked Peggy, her head resting on his chest and tracing her fingers along his stomach absent-mindedly.

He barely even knew where to begin. “I’m not the Steve that went down with the Valkyrie, Peggy. It’s been years.”

Peggy’s fingers paused on his stomach. She propped herself up on her elbow so she could look down at him, dark hair falling around her head. “How long?”

“Eleven years,” he admitted.

She flopped back down on to the bed. “Bloody hell, Steve.”

“They found me in 2012,” he said. “They defrosted me and put me to work leading the Avengers against threats that the regular military couldn’t contain. It was only a few days ago that I even had the ability to come back to you.”

“They have time travel in the future?” asked Peggy, raising her eyebrows.

“It’s a very recent thing,” said Steve. “Almost impossible.”

Peggy’s hand found his, and he intertwined his fingers with hers, clinging on with everything he had.

“Howard had a son,” he said. “Tony. Probably cleverer than Howard, honestly. He was the one who worked it out. He was the one who…”

Peggy squeezed his hand when he couldn’t finish. “You had a life there. Friends.”

He nodded, swallowing. If he closed his eyes, he could see Natasha, still, saying that he was her family. He could see Tony, carrying his daughter in his arms. Sam and Wanda and Thor and T’Challa. “They were good people, Peggy.”

“If they were your friends, they would be,” said Peggy. She pushed herself back up and looked down at him, curls askew and her face soft. “You can tell me about them, if you want.”

“Natasha was one of the first people I met in the twenty-first century,” said Steve, his heart constricting a little. “If you’d asked me at the time, I don’t think I would have guessed she would be one of my best friends, but…”

-

They agreed to keep his return quiet. They reached out to the Howlers, to Howard, to Bucky’s sisters. Only Peggy knew about his eleven years in the future. Peggy and Howard forged him a new identity. He grew out his beard to help cover his face, let his hair grow a little longer than he used to. But his best defence against recognition – as he’d learned from Natasha – was simply that people didn’t expect to see Captain America. So they didn’t.

In some ways, slipping back into the 1940s was as easy as breathing. Sometimes, though, it was like a filter had been placed over his eyes, so everything was just the slightest bit different.

Sometimes, he hummed Hamilton songs under his breath, and the people around him questioned what genre he was singing. Sometimes, a joke or pop-culture reference slipped out that made sense in the twenty-first but earned him blank stares in the twentieth.

Sometimes, it was worse. The Civil Rights Movement was slowly beginning to pick up steam – but with it came the rebirth of the KKK. The eugenics movement might have been discredited by the revelation of the Holocaust, but the racist sentiments that caused it hadn’t dissipated. It wouldn’t be long before the women’s liberation movement began, but Peggy still seethed at the misogyny of her colleagues.

“Does it get better?” asked Peggy after one long day. She was collapsed on their sofa, her legs lying across Steve’s lap.

“Slowly,” he said. “There are setbacks and bumps in the road, but there’s progress, Peg.”

“Were you still fighting the good fight?” she asked, nudging him with her foot.

“Hell yeah,” he said. “I scandalised so many conservatives, Peggy. Tony Stark almost had an aneurysm, he laughed so hard the first time I went on Fox News.”

Peggy sighed. “I just wish they’d hurry up about it all.”

Steve took her hand and rubbed gentle circles with his thumb. “You deserve so much more than what they’re giving you.”

Peggy sat up, placing her hand on his cheek and smiling at him softly. “I know. Thompson’s lucky I haven’t murdered him already. I think you keeping me sane is the only reason I haven’t.”

Steve snorted. “I’m pretty sure the only reason I haven’t murdered Thompson is because of you keeping me sane.”

Peggy laughed, shifting so that she could rest against his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to her hair. “We are a pair, aren’t we? I do believe we’ve given Mr Jarvis grey hairs.”

“Oh, no, those grey hairs are all on you,” said Steve, elbowing her. “He had them all well before I came back.”

-

They name their eldest child Natasha Colleen Carter, their second Michael James, and their third – another girl – Samantha Wanda. Peggy was the first to suggest Natasha Colleen, and he had stared at her, wide-eyed.

“What?” she asked, a hint of laughter in her voice. “I thought you’d appreciate the name.”

“I do,” he said, slowly. “But… I met Natasha. At your funeral. She was…”

Peggy laughed outright at that. “Oh, darling,” she said. “Did you really think my children were from anyone else, at this point?”

Steve opened and closed his mouth several times before saying, “I suppose I hadn’t really thought about it.”

She patted his cheek affectionately. “I think you’ve been a little dense, my darling.”

“I suppose,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “She was wonderful, Peggy. All of them were.”

“So there’s more, is there?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Good. This world needs more Carter-Rogers in the world. Between us, we should be able to start a revolution.”

“Ooh,” said Steve, a smile tugging at his lips. “I’m not sure the word’s ready for a Carter revolution.” Peggy laughed and kissed him on the cheek.

“We’ll make them ready,” she said. She moved her hand to rest over her stomach. “We’ll make them better.”

-

He told the children stories at bedtime, but not from any book.

He told them of a girl who escaped a hate that had once consumed her, who had kept the capacity to love even after so many losses, who was the strongest of all of them.

He told them of a man and a woman who had done terrible, terrible things in another person’s name, and had dedicated their lives to saving as many lives as they could in their own name.

He told them of a man who had lost his best friend to war, and had dedicated his life to bringing everyone else home from it.

He told them of a man who gave his life for the world, who could finally, finally rest.

Most of his friends thought of them as stories. It wasn’t unreasonable. While Peggy ran the world’s most secretive agency, he had taken to drawing comic books, and if his heroines had a tendency to have a hint of red in their hair, or scarlet leaking from their fingertips – well, no one was around to call him on it.

There were three children calling him Dad, now, and so many more calling him Uncle Steve. (The day that a tiny, precocious Tony Stark had called him Uncle Steve for the first time was potentially the weirdest day of Steve’s life.) He was uncle to the Howler’s kids, to Bucky’s nieces and nephews, to Tony. Once upon a time, he had told Tony that the man who wanted a family and stability had died in the ice. He hadn’t even realised he was lying at the time. Now, he watched them all – his kids, his friends’ kids, his beautiful, wonderful wife – and almost couldn’t breathe, he loved them so much.

“About enough for the Carter-Rogers revolution,” whispered Peggy into his ear at one reunion, making him snort up his beer. Peggy smiled at him innocently as Howard cackled across the room.

“Watch what you drink, Dad!” yelled Tasha, twelve-years-old and still learning how snark worked. The rest of her cousins took up the yell, good-natured jeering coming from all corners of the garden.

There were things that he hadn’t missed about the twentieth century. There were things he did miss about the twenty-first. But these kids were going to be the ones who built that century, who changed the world. Steve wouldn’t trade the world for a single one of them.

-

“Was there ever anyone?” murmured Peggy one night, her chin resting on his shoulder as they slowly twirled around the living room.

“Anyone?”

“Did you ever find any other dance partners?” she asked.

He leant back to he could look her in the eye. “No, Peg. I mean, they convinced me to go on a date or two occasionally, but… It’s you.” Her grasp on his hand strengthened, and he pulled her ever so slightly closer to him. “It’s always been you.”

She leant up and kissed him, soft and long and slow.

“Thank you for coming home to me,” she said as she pulled away. “It’s always been you for me, too, you know. I tried, once. Maybe it might even have worked. But Daniel… I couldn’t forget you, and neither could he.”

“I will always come home to you,” he promised. “Always.”

She pulled him down to kiss again, but just as their lips met, the door swung open and little Sammy toddled in. She looked up at them, cocking her head.

“Dance?” she asked.

Steve met Peggy’s eyes, saw the barely suppressed smile in them. “Alright, squirt,” he said, letting go of Peggy’s waist. “Let’s teach you how to dance.”

He arranged her on his toes as Peggy turned the radio on, It’s Been a Long, Long Time wafting through the air. Sammy shrieked with laughter as they danced, and above her head, Steve watched Peggy, standing so, so beautiful by the window.

-

It had been seventy-five years and three hundred and twelve days since Steve had heard his brother’s voice.

“Sam!”

He smiled.

[sunshineandfangs]

Klarosummer - Treehouse || Cartref Enaid

@klarosummerbingo

Caroline breathed in absorbing the scents of the forest. Wood. Soil. Water. Fresh, earthen smells that had become harder and harder to find in the modern world. Not that the whims of humans truly affected her, isolated as she was in her own realm, but it was still a shame to witness. 

No matter.

She ran meticulous fingertips across the bark of her tree, weaving fine threads of her magick through its wood. It thrummed under her touch, sending slow, powerful pulses into the earth. Her tree, nurtured from a seed by her power and carefully crafted to bridge the border between the land she called home and the land of mortals, would never wilt or wither. Human toxins meant nothing to an Immortal and just as little to an Immortal’s creation.

The pulses grew fainter, settling into the background, as its roots burrowed new paths in new soil. 

Stepping back from the tree, Caroline held her hand aloft and gently nudged at the humming bond she could feel in the back of her mind. She felt the slight returned flutter of acknowledgement and waited.

Waited as light shifted through leaves, the sun and moon crossed paths, the realm carved out its new home. Time was an odd illusion amidst such dense magick.

And then, on near silent wings, a large, black bird appeared in the distance, elegantly swooping through the overhead branches with ease. The bird gently landed on her forearm, emitting an affectionate croak.

A smile tugged at her lips and Caroline cooed at her bird, petting the glossy feathers on her head.

“Welcome back, Branwen, what news have you to share?”

The large raven shuffled up her arm to perch more comfortably on her shoulder, taking a moment to preen at the golden strands of her hair. With a rustle of feathers, Branwen settled as their bond hummed between them. A low and raspy, though still feminine, voice echoed through Caroline’s mind accompanied by images of new places and people.

It seems our tree has settled itself in a small town this time. The inhabitants call it, Mystic Falls.

Caroline’s lip twitched. A rather apropos name to be certain.

Quite. The whole place is also swarming with witch spawn, mostly children of the blood but also some children of the moon.

Her eyebrows rose. Really, now? Both of them? Surely, there has been a blood bath or two by now?

Not recently, insofar as I can derive. The earth carries echoes of a slaughter of the children of the moon sometime in the recent past, but currently it is two factions of the children of the blood that are quarreling. And one of those factions is...aberrant.

How do you mean, my friend?

They seem to be an odd amalgamation of both blood and moon. One of them reeks of old blood and a near feral wolf. The rest are settled moon children carrying the scent of recent death and blood.

Caroline’s brow furrowed as she contemplated Branwen’s words, more carefully scrutinizing the handful of scenes her familiar had observed. As Branwen reported, their faces bore eyes of wolf gold yet also the fangs and dark veins of the blood children.

I see. How curious...My thanks, Branwen. Mayhaps, I shall venture into this so-named Mystic Falls myself.

Caroline lifted her other arm, careful to not jostle her friend, and conjured several field mice. Appearing between one blink and the next, the newborn rodents scurried hurriedly for cover.

Branwen croaked with delight, jetting off her shoulder in a flurry of feathers to her well wishes of a happy hunt.

---

Caroline couldn’t quite restrain the faint crinkle of her nose as she took in the unimpressive visage of the establishment cheerfully announcing itself as the “Mystic Grill.” It was...quaint, she supposed.

The inside was a bit better, containing all the appropriate accouterments: a bar, multiple tables with varying degrees of privacy, a few game tables and a dart board or two.

With a slight eye-roll at herself (honestly, she wasn’t here to sight see), she made her way toward the bar. The barkeep was young, very young, likely too young to drink himself according to modern rulings. It was curious that he was behind the counter. 

She offered him a small smile and a subtle flutter of her lashes. “Good evening,” her eyes flicked to his name-tag, “Matthew, I am feeling rather partial to an Old Fashioned tonight.”

“Could I see some ID, ma’am?”

She chuckled, wondering how he would react to her true age, but produced a card all the same. A wonderful piece of charm work, he would see a perfectly genuine driver’s license declaring her Caroline Morgans, age 23.

He passed it back with a thanks and shuffled around to start mixing her drink.

“Well, well I haven’t seen you around here before.”

Caroline restrained a second eye-roll, this one far more well-deserved, with difficulty. She peered over her shoulder, taking in the new presence beside her.

Dark hair. Icy blue eyes. A handsome face. She had a feeling she wouldn’t like him. He practically oozed false charm and arrogance.

“I should think not, seeing as I just arrived earlier today,” she answered, curtly.

“Oohh unclench, Barbie. So tense, maybe I can help you relax? Hm?” He waggled his eyebrows outrageously, in a manner she assumed he thought flirtatious.

This time she didn’t bother to restrain her reaction, letting a slight sneer curl on her lips.

“Pass.”

The clack of a glass being set down interrupted any further insult she may have uttered and she gave an acknowledging nod and smile to the boy as he stepped away to help other customers.

She sipped at her drink relishing the bite of the whiskey and bitters smoothed by a hint of sweetness and citrus. It was a decent drink, but the experience was marred by two things. The irritant’s continued presence next to her and a faint aftertaste of something herbal. It took a moment to place it, but she soon realized it was vervain and wolfsbane.

Not so ignorant then.

Before she could further contemplate the mounting curiosities of the tiny town, the pest interjected once more.

“No need to be rude, Barbie. I assure you, I’m quite the hit with the ladies.” Caroline leveled a ferocious glare in his direction as he placed his hand on her forearm and watched with increasing outrage as his pupil dilated. “So, come with me.”

Her fury seethed low in her belly as she stood to follow the little cretin, quite eager to teach the mannerless cur a lesson. Nevermind the audacity he had to try to control her mind, his casual air sealed his fate. 

A desire to feed would be one thing, but his words implied something quite different. Some of her bloodkin would be enraged only by his audacity and not his crime, but for her - she with her tumultuous relationships with her half-siblings and the memory of a troubled boy whose blood named him her nephew twice over - for her consent meant something.

The fool led her into the back alley, taking no time to try to compel anything else, simply slamming her against the wall. His face rippled into dark eyes and veins and fangs, his hands wandering places they had no right to.

He had his chance.

In an instant, she reversed their positions, pinning him to the bricks with ease. His confusion was obvious as he clawed at her arm, a mere tickle to her, and he shouted.

“What the fuck?! What are you?”

Caroline just hummed in the back of her throat, pondering appropriate punishments even as she absently answered. “Now, who is being rude? Asking such crass questions.”

Ah, now there’s an idea.

She leaned forward, easily bypassing his flailing to blow into his ear.

A little pain, she thought, as she swiftly stepped back, allowing the creature to fall into a screaming heap. And a little training. Her magick eagerly burned through his brain and body, weaving her curse into his flesh, into his bone, saturating his blood, tying it with razored hooks to the very essence of him. Anytime he thought to force his will upon others, he would burn. Just as he was now.

No longer interested in arrogant vampire’s fate - assured her magick would do as she intended - she turned to regard the second presence in the alley. A much older one that she had sensed follow them from the bar.

“Enjoy the show?” She drawled.

A wicked, little smirk crossed his lips, even as his eyes remained dark and guarded.

“Immensely. A Fae’s vengeance is always a lovely thing to behold.”

Well, well this one was quite informed. Though, she supposed he ought to be at his age.

He extended an arm to her. “Would you care to walk with me?”

She took it. “I do so hope you do not intend to waste my time, child of the blood and moon.”

“Please, call me, Klaus.” He dimpled at her. “And I prefer the term ‘Hybrid’ myself.”

Caroline eyed him, allowing some of her curiosity to color her expression.

“Klaus, then, why is it you sought me out?”

---

Caroline traced the swirls of the handsome mahogany table, intrigued by Klaus’ tale. A bit intrigued by the man himself as well, if she were honest.

“Your wolf is new to you, is he not?”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “In a manner of speaking.”

She chortled, tickled by his careful wording. He was certainly wise to tread so carefully, but she was too interested to harm him at the moment. Not that she would tell him that.

“You told me you seek your family. Family is pack for a wolf. You do not lose pack. Cannot,” she emphasized.

He looked like he had been about to interrupt, though his mouth shut with a click of his teeth at the ‘cannot.’ 

“You’re saying I should be able to...sense their location.” 

She nodded. “I can understand the importance of family, Klaus. So I offer you this insight with no debt or strings: embrace your wolf. Shift. Run. He’s practically feral, and it is no wonder you cannot use all of his senses.” She paused, wondering at what she was about to offer, but opted to indulge. “I shall run with you. We will find your family.”

---

The last time Klaus had turned it had been frenzied, surrounded by the power of a broken curse and a full moon, quick. Now, it was the force of his will hastening the process, rapidly shattering and reshaping bone.

He growled low in his throat, the sound transformed to a guttural howl as the transformation completed.

This time he could feel the wildness in his blood, his wolf a heavy presence alongside his vampire. Powerful in a way it wasn’t, when his curse broke. He turned with a snarl as something moved in his peripheral vision.

A large gray wolf stood a few paces away.

His snarl cut off as he tilted his head, inhaling a familiar scent.

Magic. Tree. Fae. Woman. She-wolf? Bombarded his thoughts in a tumbling stream of consciousness, his wolf sounding both puzzled and delighted.

She chuffed at him.

Follow. 

She then turned and darted into the woods, his wolf hot at her heels.

They ran for miles, leaping over logs and foliage, traversing the forest with supernatural swiftness. And as his frantic energy started to burn out, his mind grew sharper. His wolf and vampire blurred at their edges, blending together. He started to feel a slight tug, and an instinct to move toward it.

Pack. A growl sounded in the back of his mind and Klaus pivoted, following the pull, the other wolf now running at his side.

Pack.

---

Author’s note: Fun fact: I am being lazy with my titles recently. Yesterday’s siren themed one was named “sing” in Greek while today’s is “Soul Home” in Welsh (according to Google translate anyway).

[avaalons]

Chris Evans Fic: Disney Princess Series Part 4 (The Trip)

Chris’ Disney Princess Series

Disney Princess Obsession

Disney Princess Reality

This is the third instalment of the Disney Princess series:

***

Disney on its own was pretty mesmerising. Disney with Chris’ family was… magical. It took you a few days to really embrace their closeness, having not really experienced it before, despite your many siblings. All the members of your family were perfect individuals, islands dotted all over the world, but Chris’ family were a complete unit and it was clear to see every single day.

You’d been even a little overwhelmed at first when you had arrived at the villa. True to his word, Chris had organised everything perfectly around your schedule. The family had arrived at their villa a day earlier but you’d had some meetings to attend so had caught a flight the day after.

Chris had picked you up at the airport, his demeanour so casual and open, sunglasses and a bright smile adorning his face, it was as if this was a total everyday occurrence, as if he always picked you up from the airport and drove you to see his family.

You had chatted easily in the car and he shared some of the plans for the rest of the evening and the following days. He gave you another run down of the names of his family members and shared some stories about his niece and nephews and their excitement on their first day back in Disney. It was all too easy to believe that you’d had known Chris for years, that you had a place among his family. For the first, but definitely not the last, time, you sharply reminded yourself to avoid entertaining any thoughts about Chris and yourself other than what theme park ride you’d be going on next.

Upon meeting his family, however, you were instantly welcomed by them all, as if you’d always been on vacation with them. They had been in the middle of preparing a big family dinner when you and Chris had arrived. Lisa, Chris’ mom, was managing things in the kitchen, giving her sons and daughters jobs to do while Chris’ nephews laid the table in between chasing each other around it. Lisa had wiped her hands with a cloth before pulling you into a hug. You’d been unable to keep the repeated tokens of thanks from spilling over but Lisa wouldn’t hear it, simply telling you how glad she was that you were there and how excited they all were to be able to show Disney off to you.

‘Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes or so. Chris, take her cases and show her to her room will you, give her some time to unpack before dinner. Was your flight okay?’ she said, turning her attention back to you at the end.

‘Yes, thank you. Someone,’ you gave Chris a side glance, ‘booked me into first class without me knowing.’

Chris simply smiled and shrugged, ‘You’re a Hollywood hotshot now, first class is something you’ll want to get used to on flights unless you want photos of you asleep and drooling on your own shoulder all over the internet.’

Lisa laughed, 'I’d expect nothing less of him anyway, nothing gets done by halves with this one. Go on, go and relax for a few before you have the face the craziness of dinner time with this rabble.’

Chris led you down a hallway off the main living area, pulling your case after him, pointing out who the rooms belonged to as you went. All the doors had an A4 paper name plate, clearly drawn by the younger members of the family, with little crayon pictures of the room’s owner alongside other associated images.

'We’re down here - I mean, my room is here, if you need anything,’ he pointed out his door, adorned with his name, his crayon replica (complete with fairly dense beard you noted) and a picture of a dog.

'Dodger?’ you asked, gesturing towards the door.

Chris smiled affectionately, 'Yeah, the kids decided our doors needed to be personalised this year. Let’s just be grateful it was on paper and not straight on to the woodwork. This is your room.’

To your surprise, you also had a name card, with your own crayon avatar. You wondered if Chris had shown the kids a photo of you. The rest of the space was filled with flowers, trees and birds. You reminded yourself to thank the children later.

Chris opened the door and flicked the light switch, 'So here you go, home sweet home for the next week.’

It was a light and spacious room with a large window on the opposite wall, a double bed that looked incredibly comfortable flanked by two night stands, and a dressing table and chair. There were two other doors, you assumed for an ensuite bathroom and a walk in closet. Someone had left fresh flowers on your dressing table and there were some books in a pile on one of the night stands.

'It’s lovely, thanks. It’s a really nice place.’

'Don’t worry that we’ll be offended if you want to spend time in here by the way. We totally understand that sometimes it’s a bit much being around us all 24/7. Don’t be afraid to take some time for yourself. Same for the days out - if you want to lounge by the pool or go off and do your own thing, just say so.’

You really appreciated that, and it reminded you that you had actually become good friends during your time working, probably better than you had initially given Chris credit for. He was clearly quite attuned to your temperament.

'Thanks, that’s really - I wouldn’t have wanted to seem rude. It’s just… this is so different to what I’m used to,’ you gestured vaguely back down the hallway you’d just come from.

Chris simply grinned, 'I know, I don’t think many people could prepare for this madness. But seriously, no one will think you are rude at all. I left you some books you might like to read and there’s a concealed flatscreen in the foot of the bed so feel free to make the most of it. I’ll give you a shout when dinner’s done.’

He made to leave and you called out to him just as his body had disappeared past the door frame. He popped his head back in question and you wished you hadn’t called him. Suddenly, what you wanted to say seemed so… lame.

'Just wanted to say thanks. For this. My own family never does things like this and… thank you for making me part of it.’

'My pleasure,’ he smiled warmly at you, before leaving you to unpack.

***

Chris walked back to the main living area in the villa, unable to stop his smile creeping over his mouth. His mom glanced over her shoulder at him from where she was preparing a salad in the kitchen and called him over.

'Can you chop these peppers for me, sweetheart?’ she said, gesturing to the brightly coloured bell peppers on the counter.

Chris picked up a knife and began slicing the top off one.

'She seems lovely,’ Lisa attempted to sound off hand and casual.

'Mom…’ Chris had a hint of warning in his voice, knowing his mom and her line of questioning too well.

'I’m just saying!’ Lisa pretended to be defensive, 'She seems like a lovely girl.’

There was a pause as they both prepared salad, the only sounds of knives hitting the chopping boards as they sliced and diced.

'Just, maybe take it slow wi-’

'Mom! Seriously! We’re friends, I told you this.’

'Christopher, you haven’t brought a 'friend’ to Disney since you were thirteen years old and you definitely didn’t leave flowers in their room. I’m just saying, be careful with her. If you use your usual tactic of getting all your feelings out there in one go, she’ll bolt. Try to reign in the excitable puppy side of your personality.’

'You literally just met her, how can you possibly know that?’

'Because she couldn’t be any different from the usual Hollywood set if she tried. She’s guarded and quiet. Don’t freak her out.’

'Okay, okay, I get it. I’ve been doing that anyway. We honestly are friends though and if that’s what she’s comfortable with, then that’s what we’ll be.’

***

You didn’t know whether it was Disney, or Chris’ family, or a combination of the two but by the end of the week, you’d never felt less awkward, less shy and less like yourself. You’d done it all: the rides, the shows, the character photos and you were now the proud owner of three different sets of mouse ears, and if you’d also purchased some incredibly sentimental Christmas tree ornaments of your favourite childhood characters to take back home with you, it was no big deal.

You’d loved everything and you had been pulled into the family with ease. Your phone was full of photos documenting all your activities and you’d shared them with the family in their group chat. At the Magic Kingdom, Chris had snatched your phone from you - 'there needs to be some pictures of you on here too!’ - and had kept hold of it for a few hours.

When you got it back and were scrolling through later on that night as you were tucked up in bed, you noticed just how carefree and happy and confident you looked. There were a couple of mouse ear selfies that Chris had made you take with him that made you laugh when you saw the faces he was pulling.

Tomorrow was going to be the last full day and you found you were disappointed. The time had gone so quickly. You laid your phone on the nightstand, plugging the charger in and watching as the screen brightened before darkening to the black sleep screen. You were going to miss this break from your life. You didn’t know if you’d escaped being recognised entirely - there might be a few candid cellphone shots of you floating around now - but you hadn’t been approached by anyone. Chris had a couple of times but it was nothing too intrusive and he was happy to oblige a few kids.

You’d have to go back to LA the day after tomorrow and this would all just become a memory to treasure. You were going to miss it, that much was certain. You thought about the photos Chris had taken on your phone: you were going to miss who you were around this family. You were going to miss Chris and you didn’t know what to do with that thought.

Kicking back your sheets in mild frustration, you rose from your bed and padded across the carpet to the door, trying with all the daintiness you possessed to open the door quietly. Tiptoeing through the villa, you headed to the sliding patio doors leading out to the pool. Settling into one of the loungers, you listened to the silence of the night and tried not to think about how alone you were going to feel after tomorrow.

***

Chris lay awake in his bed, thinking about you doing the same thing in the room next door. This week had been perfect. He’d loved seeing you loosen up and let go of some of those rules and boundaries you so clearly imposed on yourself most of the time. You’d fit right in: the kids included you in their games, you joined in with conversation over dinner like you’d always been there, and today you’d happily stood with everyone, smiling, when Carly had asked an attendant to take a picture of you all in front of the castle.

But he wasn’t used to being so… subtle. This was not his normal approach at all when he liked someone. He’d taken, what felt like to him, so many steps backwards away from this situation in order to not do anything to freak you out, he felt like things were moving in the exact opposite direction to the one he wanted. So today, he had gotten a little snap happy with your phone and had taken a chance on taking some selfies. You had both been wearing mouse ears and he pulled you to him, arm around your waist, fingers splayed against your hip, as he’d turned the camera to front facing. He had to admit, you were both fucking adorable. Best of all, you hadn’t backed off, and that was a very good sign.

His thoughts were disturbed by the quiet sounds of a door opening, the slight reverberation signalling that it was from the room next door. Chris lay still for a couple of seconds, wondering whether to follow you or not. When he didn’t hear anyone else moving around, he decided he would just go and check that you were okay, then head back to his room and give you the space you clearly wanted. That was all.

***

'Hey, everything okay?’

Despite his soft voice, you just about jumped out of your skin, so wrapped up in your thoughts that you hadn’t heard Chris’ footsteps to warn you of his presence. You whipped around to face him, hand pressed against your collar bones as you let out a nervous laugh.

'Chris!’ you half-whispered, 'Don’t sneak up on me like that!’

'Sorry!’ he grinned back at you, 'Want a beer?’

He held up two bottles in his hands. Now that you had calmed down, you were suddenly extremely aware that you’d been thinking pretty deeply about Chris and his presence in your life, and you were more than a little paranoid that it was all over your face. A beer could be just the thing to provide a mask.

'Sure,’ you replied, holding out a hand to take one from him.

'Mind if I sit?’

'No, course,’ you gestured to the lounger next to yours.

'Can’t sleep? Me neither.’

'Yeah, I was struggling to drift off. Quite warm tonight, isn’t it?’

'Yeah, a little,’ Chris replied, taking a sip from his bottle.

A silence settled over you, but it wasn’t awkward. There was some tension maybe, but it wasn’t exactly uncomfortable.

You knew then that if you told Chris right now that you thought you were developing feelings for him, he’d be all in. He was waiting for you, and had been since the moment he’d first met you on the red carpet.

You remembered the fall of his expression when you’d shrugged him off with politeness at your pre-filming meeting, you remembered the grateful smile of understanding you had shared when you’d intervened in front of the interviewer, you remembered the grin across his face when you’d insisted that you were just friends at the hotel. And you knew just how easy it would be for the two of you to be an us, if, of course, you didn’t have the whole world watching and if you weren’t an emotional recluse.

But that last statement wasn’t true, was it? You’d seen the pictures from today. You could let go and be yourself, there was photographic evidence of it. The aloof creature was just a shield you used to protect yourself in a harsh business, and it had worked up to now, but you knew it would take much more than that to protect you if you embarked on a… something… with Chris freaking Evans.

'Have you enjoyed yourself this week?’ Chris broke the silence, rolling his beer bottle between his palms.

'Oh god, so much. I’ve had the best time, honestly. I can’t thank you all enough for having me. I’m going to have to have you all over for dinner at mine when we’re back in LA,’ you couldn’t quite believe that particular idea had just come out of your mouth as you took another mouthful of beer.

Chris turned his soft, smiling gaze on you, 'You don’t owe us anything at all, it’s been awesome having you around. But that would be really sweet. My mom would take you up on that for sure. I’ll let you know the next time she’s in LA.’

There was another moment of silence before you spoke again, 'It’s going to be weird, going back to LA. I’m going to miss all this. My house is going to seem so empty,’ the truth that you were going to miss him most of all was left unspoken.

'I know, it’s an odd transition to make. It’s so easy to fall into Disney life. But you know, I’ll be around. Give me a call if you want to hang out.’

'Guess we’re not just work colleagues anymore, are we?’ You smiled at him around your beer bottle as you sipped again.

He let out a short laugh, 'No, I wouldn’t say so. I’ve forced you to be my friend.’

'I’m glad you did. I needed it.’

'You’ve always been beautiful, but this week, seeing you properly laugh and run around and play with the kids and make fun of me with Scott and just forget having to check yourself for appearance’s sake at every turn, it’s just - you’ve been shining, glowing even.’

'Chris… I-’ you started to speak but didn’t know what you were going to say. He’d called you beautiful. Beautiful.

'Don’t worry, that’s all I’m going to say, I promise,’ his voice was gentle, soft. He treated you so tenderly, had done all week long.

'Thank you,’ you whispered, not quite meeting his eyes.

[avaalons]

Chris Evans Fic: Cabin in the Woods

Fluffiest of fluff for a Saturday!

This was originally a request from @alievans007 that’s been a very long time coming. Apologies for the wait but it’s taken me forever to envisage the perfect scenario. So, hope you enjoy!

***

‘Babe, I know you’re super excited about this secret plan of yours but I don’t think security are going to let you take me on a plane blindfolded, somehow.’ You’d been beside yourself since you’d arrived home from work, only to be all but bundled into the car by your much bigger and much stronger boyfriend, assured that everything you needed was already packed. He’d insisted that you wear the blindfold but you quickly realised that it was more for show than for any practical reason.

‘Fiiiine, you can take it off now. I just wanted to up the drama element,’ he grinned at you from the driver’s seat as you pulled off the scrap of material and blinked as your eyes adjusted to the light.

‘I have to say, I was not expecting this. You’ve really worked hard to keep this a secret, haven’t you?’ You knew Chris struggled to keep anything he was excited about quiet so you were genuinely impressed with his subterfuge. But, however, not as impressed as he was with himself, judging from his smug smile.

‘Yep,’ he replied, letting the ‘p’ pop in an exaggerated fashion, 'I really have.’

'Right, I need to do some figuring out. We’re obviously not going anywhere for a length of time since you’re driving your car so obviously you’re going to leave it parked at the airport. So weekend trip. In February… but to where??’ You tapped your index finger against your chin as you thought, humouring him.

'Don’t worry about it. Just go with it. I want you to be surprised.’

'I am surprised, Chris, honestly. This is all already amazing. I’ve never been whisked off on a surprise trip before, it’s so exciting. I can’t believe you’ve planned it all,’ you reached across for his hand and slid your fingers through his, 'Thank you, really.’

'Don’t thank me just yet, you might hate it!’ But he looked pretty pleased with himself.

'I won’t,’ you said with some finality as you brought his knuckles to your lips and planted a soft kiss against them.

***

'Enjoy your flight, Mr Evans,’ the only-slightly-too-friendly member of staff on the check-in desk handed the documents back to Chris and you watched as your suitcases disappeared on the conveyor belt. You didn’t even know what was in them but you were really embracing the letting-it-all-go attitude. You spent a bit of time mooching about in the airport shops together, trying on sunglasses and hats, testing out ridiculously bright lipsticks and making Chris laugh with your pouting smooch face, threatening to leave shocking pink kisses on his cheek, before grabbing a beer at the bar and settling into a cosy booth. You tried not to ask any questions about the trip, knowing that you wouldn’t get much out of him, but when Chris glanced up at the departures board and declared that it was time to go to the gate, you saw instantly that it was the flight to Boston that was now boarding.

'Are we going to your mom’s?’ you enquired as you walked towards the gate, unable to keep the confusion out of your voice.

'Nope. At least, not right away. We might stop by on the way back, if you want.’

'Of course, if she doesn’t mind having us at such short notice.’

'She won’t mind, doofus,’ he teased before wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you close to his side.

'Hey!’ you protested, laying a light and affectionate punch against his arm, 'So we’re going in the direction of Boston at least?’

'Yes, but we’ll be getting a connecting flight so stop trying to work it out.’

'Okay, okay. No more Sherlocking.’

***

The flight was comfortable, but then travelling with Chris always was. Every time you glanced at him, you had a little flutter in your stomach. So far you’d only been in the car and got on a plane and this was already the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for you.

In Logan you just let yourself be led by Chris. You purposely didn’t look at any screens and didn’t try to listen in to any conversations. Before you knew it, you were boarding a much smaller plane and a little over an hour later, you landed again.

And there was snow. Lots and lots of beautiful, sparkling snow. Rutland, Vermont.

'Chris… this is a proper winter!’ you were overwhelmed. He knew how much you missed real winter weather living in LA.

'I know, amazing isn’t it? We’ve got coats and things waiting in the car. One more little drive and we’re done, I promise.’

You didn’t even care. This was already the best trip you had ever taken and it showed just how much Chris thought of you and listened to you. Soon you were wrapped up and warm in the passenger seat of a rented SUV, watching a glowing sun setting gently behind majestic New England mountains as Chris drove you to your mystery location. Before long, the road signs were giving it away.

'Killington?! Oh my god, Chris!! This is seriously incredible. Thank you so much! Are we skiing??’

'This weekend is yours babe, we can do whatever you want to do. Snow sports, spa, hike, use apres ski as an excuse to get drunk, make out in the hot tub, have sex all weekend on a fur rug in front of a roaring fire,’ he winked at you cheekily, 'Whatever you want.’

'All of the above, please,’ you were practically bouncing in your seat with excitement.

'I’m sure we can manage to fit it all in.’

Chris turned off the main road into what looked like a holiday lodge park. Neat log cabins were dotted sparsely throughout a dense forest, giving each lodge more than enough privacy. The snow covered everything in a soft, white blanket. At the centre of the park, from what you could see, was a large lake and as Chris followed the gravel road up the side of a mountain, it was clear that you were going to have a lovely view down towards it through the trees. This place took your breath away; Chris could not have chosen a better destination.

The car eventually rolled to a stop outside a beautiful and surprisingly large cabin. A wraparound veranda gave it a homely feel and twinkly fairy lights entwined through the wooden railings glowed invitingly. A chimnea was fired up next to a bench adorned with blankets and cushions - clearly someone had got the place ready for your arrival.

'This is adorable. How did you even find this place?’

'What can I say? Am I or am I not the greatest boyfriend on the planet?’ He leaned across the car’s arm rest towards you, asking for a kiss. Who were you to turn him down?

'Well you’re my only boyfriend at the moment,’ you grinned against his lips, 'so I’d say the odds are pretty good for you.’

'Rude,’ he smiled back at you, before pecking you on the mouth once more, 'Come on sweetheart, let’s go and explore our home for the next few days.’

***

An hour and a half later you had acquainted yourself with all the rooms, found a stocked refrigerator, the hot tub and found the log store for the burners both inside and outside the cabin. There was a large open plan kitchen, dining and living space, all a combination of wood mixed with soft furnishings and a buttery leather couch in front of a log burner set back into the wall. You made a joke about all the things the two of you could do on that couch in front of that fire, to which Chris just promised you 'Later.’ You had also unpacked your cases and found that Chris had thoughtfully been through your winter clothes storage in the attic and had compiled all your favourite cold weather items.

A knock at the door reverberated through the quietness of the cabin and you looked at Chris quizzically.

'Oh yeah, there’s another surprise,’ he informed you laughingly as he walked with purpose towards the door and swinging it open to reveal an a plethora of faces, all of which you recognised, of course.

You were both suddenly swept up in a storm of hugs and kisses from your respective family members. Everyone was here: parents, siblings, nieces and nephews. Scott even walked in with Dodger on his lead.

'Chris… you… I don’t even - how did you arrange all this?’ You asked after you said hello to everyone and had your face licked in excited greeting by Dodger.

Your mom spoke for him, 'He’s been arranging this for months, baby - told us all we had to do was be available this weekend and show up at the airport.’

You looked at your boyfriend in amazement and you could see the nods of agreement from other family members in your peripheral vision. Chris, of course, just shrugged as much as he was able with one of his nephews sitting on his shoulders like it was no big deal, 'I just thought it was time we all got together for a weekend.’

'Yeah, we’ve all got our own lodges on site and we’re all booked in at the restaurant tonight so I hope you’re hungry!’ Carly told you from where she was leaning against the kitchen counter.

You looked around at the group of people in front of you, feeling more than ever that this, right here, was your future and you were lucky enough to have the kindest, most generous man making sure it all happened. You shook your head in happy disbelief as one of the kids wrapped their arms around your legs in a low level hug, 'I just can’t believe you’re all here.’

'Are you coming skiing with us tomorrow?!’ A small voice enquired.

'I - I think so, lovely. I’m not sure what the plan is yet. Uncle Chris hasn’t told me much up to now.’

'I told you sweetheart, whatever you want,’ he replied softly, looking at you with an expression you couldn’t quite place. You looked at him for a beat and tried to work him out. Nervous, almost?

'I guess that settles it,’ you ruffled the hair of one of Carly’s children, 'Skiing it is!’

A chorus of cheers came from the three kids until Shanna spoke out, 'Right come on kids, let’s go back to our lodges and wash up, leave these two to get themselves sorted before dinner.’

One by one, the family members drifted out of your cabin, calling out arrangements for the evening and recommendations they’d heard about the menu. Scott handed a bag of items to Chris which, you assumed, were Dodger’s things, the dog now having investigated his new home and eventually made himself perfectly comfortable on the rug in front of the fire.

Your mom pulled you in for a quick squeezing hug before she left, 'He’s a good one, isn’t he?’

'I know mom, I know. I can’t believe he’s arranged all this.’

'All paid for too,’ she whispered so that Chris wouldn’t hear , 'Your dad and I tried to chip in, at least for the cabin, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Said to think of it as a gift to us and to you.’

'I don’t even know what to say. I’ve been basically speechless since I arrived home this afternoon to find the bags packed.’

Your mom squeezed you arm affectionately in response, 'My advice is to just enjoy it and don’t overthink it. He clearly enjoys making you happy and, as your mom, that’s all I could wish for.’

You could feel emotion gathering in your throat as tears threatened to prick the corners of your eyes; this was all so fantastically overwhelming, 'Thanks mom. I’ll see you later.’

And then everyone was gone, Chris closing the door gently behind your mom and dad, the last people to leave. You leaned against the kitchen island, a perplexed smile on your face.

'What?’ Chris grinned. He knew perfectly well what. He approached you and you pulled him to you by the front of his tshirt, letting him settle comfortably against you, his hands resting against either side of your rib cage as you snaked your arms around his neck and looked up at him.

'Have I told you lately how incredible you are and how much I love you?’

'Hmm… I can’t quite remember. Maybe you better just say it again, just in case,’ he joked, feigning forgetfulness.

'You’re incredible and I love you.’

He leaned down slightly to rest his forehead against yours, voice almost a whisper, 'I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that. I love you too, so fucking much.’

You stretched up to capture his lips with yours, turning a peck into a leisurely kiss. His hands tightened their grip on you when your fingers sneaked under the hem of his tshirt, dancing against the sensitive skin there. He lifted you easily to sit on the counter worktop and you widened your knees so he could stand between them. From your new vantage point, you had to look down slightly into his face and, threading your fingers into the short hair at the back of his head, you felt like your heart was going to burst. You couldn’t remember what you did to deserve this, but you had to be the luckiest girl alive.

'Thank you,’ you whispered against his lips.

'You’re welcome,’ he whispered back before kissing you again, pleasure blooming inside you and you idly wondered whether you’d make it to dinner at all.

Then Dodger was around your feet, brushing up against Chris’ legs, letting him know that he was hungry. Chris took a deep breath and pulled back.

'I better sort the big guy out, and we better stop before we’re too distracted to leave for dinner. I’ll go and get him settled in the utility. Something tells me he’s not going to want to be in our room tonight, wouldn’t want to scar him for life.’

You laughed loudly, 'Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you Evans?’

'I’ve packed my best boxers to change into. Baby, you won’t be able to resist,’ he winked as he untangled himself from your legs and arms and gathered Dodger’s bag from where he’d left it on the floor.

'God, you are such a dork,’ you replied, rolling your eyes in faux-irritation, your indulgent smile giving you away.

'Your dork,’ he called back as he walked away, Dodger following his master obediently.

'Can’t argue with that,’ you hopped down from the counter as Chris disappeared behind the utility room door and began looking through the refrigerator and cupboards, seeing what breakfast foods were available for the morning. You found cereal and bacon and eggs, plus ingredients for pancakes, along with fruit and yoghurt. There was more than enough to make a decent morning meal so maybe, you thought to yourself, you’d treat your boyfriend to breakfast in bed in the morning as a thank you for this already amazing weekend. But then, you didn’t know if Chris had plans up his sleeve. As you closed the cupboards, you could hear the patter of Dodger’s paws against the hardwood floor.

'Hey Dodge, shouldn’t you be eating now?’ You glanced down at him to find he had something odd hanging around his neck. Confused, you crouched down, ruffling the fur on his head, 'What have you got here baby?’

Now you were closer you could see that it was a small wooden plaque on a piece of soft string, tied loosely enough to just hang against his chest.

That gravelly voice you knew so well sounded from in front of you and you looked up to find Chris had reappeared in the kitchen area, leaning against the same counter you had been sat on moments before, 'He’s got something to ask you.’

Puzzled, you shifted your attention back to Dodger and the plaque, picking up one corner and tilting it towards you. You gasped as you read the words, your hand flying to your mouth and those tears that threatened earlier arriving again. You read and reread, trying to be certain that your eyes weren’t deceiving you, but no, you were sure you weren’t reading it wrong.

There, hand painted in loopy spirals, were the words, 'Will you marry my dad?’

When you looked back at Chris, he was straight ahead of you, knelt on one knee just behind Dodger, a small open box nestled in one palm, and there, unmistakably, was a shining, sparkling ring. You couldn’t help yourself, the tears ran in rivulets down your cheeks as you half-laughed, half-cried in shock and happiness.

'I’ve always been adamant that when I got married, it would be to my best friend, and I’ve been waiting and waiting for what feels like my entire life for you. You are the woman I love with my whole heart, the first person I think of in the morning and the last person I think of at night. But you are also absolutely the greatest friend I have ever had, someone I can rely on, who I’m always sure of, who is on my side. We’re a team, partners in crime, and the only way my life could get any better now, the only way I could be made any happier, would be if you agreed to be my partner in crime officially, for ever. So, please, please will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?’

You stretched over Dodger’s lean frame to pull Chris to you, grabbing his face on either side and desperately closing the gap between your mouths, trying to show him, with your body since you were speechless, just how much you loved him and just how happy he had made you.

'Just to be clear,’ Chris said against your lips, 'Can I take that as a yes?’

'Yes, yes, yes, over and over again. Without a single doubt in my mind.’

'Hey buddy, mind if I shift you out of the way so I can say a proper hello to my fiancée?’ Chris gently nudged Dodger, who was soaking up all the excitement in the room and doing his best canine tap dance, to the side of the pair of you.

Once there was only space between you, Chris gently tugged the ring from its velvet and silk cushion and took your hand so he could, with trembling hands, slide the thin band of platinum over your finger. A perfect fit, of course. You choked on ecstatic disbelief and with a last look at the ring now sparkling against your skin, you launched yourself into Chris’ arms, pressing your mouths together once more and soaking up each other’s joy.

'Christopher Evans, you are a sneaky little thing,’ you spoke once you could find your words again.

'I know,’ he beamed, proud of himself.

'And you have made me the happiest woman on this planet.’

'Well I’m just relieved you said yes. There was going to be some humiliating explaining to do otherwise.’

'I assume they all know?’

'Of course, they’re all in on it! Apart from the kids, of course, because me managing to keep a secret was challenge enough - I think we’d have been pushing it expecting the kids to keep quiet too. They will ask if they get to call you Aunt now though, you do realise?’

'Oh god, that makes me sound so old!’ you joked, in reality pride welling up inside you, 'So I guess there’s no question - we definitely have to go to dinner tonight? They’ll be beside themselves.’

'I’m afraid so. It’s not like we’ll be left alone if we don’t show.’

'Just know that when we get back tonight, you are getting so lucky. Everywhere. All over this cabin. All night. In every possible position.’

'Sweetheart, stop it,’ Chris groaned, 'I’ll never be in a decent enough state to leave the lodge if you carry on.’

And all of a sudden, a thought came to you, 'Babe, please can we play dumb with them? Not mention the engagement, I’ll hide my ring in my pocket, we’ll act really awkwardly with each other…’

'Jesus, you are cruel,’ Chris laughed, 'But yes, absolutely yes. I can’t wait to see their faces.’

'Come on fiancé, lets go devastate our families,’ you say, hauling yourself up from the floor and holding out your hand to pull him up with you, your bodies pressed together. 'You better keep a straight face, Evans.’

'Don’t worry, it’s not like I’m an actor or anything,’ good-natured sarcasm dripped from every word.

'Allegedly,’ you fire back, cheekily teasing him.

'It’s a good job I love you.’

'Love you too,’ you reply, turning serious for a moment and reaching up on tiptoes for a kiss, which flared, gathered heat, in a matter of seconds. Chris crushed you to him, the pressure of his mouth on yours gaining momentum and as much as you didn’t want to stop, you knew you had mischief to make. You reluctantly pulled away fractionally, arching your back to keep your hips pressed together, not yet ready to separate yourself entirely.

'You ready?’ And your question seemed to ask about much more than just leaving the cabin to go to dinner.

'Yeah,’ his response was definite, spoken with a genuine smile, 'I really, really am.’