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wyattjohnston · 10 months

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need a little company - nick blankenburg

summary: morgan hasn't seen nick in years and her strongest memories of him are the crush he had on her in college. when he gets signed to columbus after years apart, morgan realises that maybe she should have given him a chance.

chapter word count: 4.8k

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In a moment of peak doom and gloom, Morgan wished she was at work.

The snowstorm outside was what she’d expected to wake up to; what she hadn’t expected was for her bedside lamp to produce zero light or for her house to be significantly colder than any other morning that month.

She used the last of her hot water to take a shower and then sat on her couch, pretending that she was a good Midwesterner and not affected by a little snow, and hoped that she got a good update on when her power would be back on.

As the morning got later and later, Morgan started to feel a spike of panic—the estimated time for the power being fixed was pushed back every half an hour until it was clear she wouldn’t be seeing light for at least another day, and the window for sorting out where she was going was narrowing.

She needed to get hold of Nick before he left for the airport.

It was becoming a little frightening how quickly Nick answered her calls. They were in their mid-20s, so it wasn’t weird for either of them to have their phone on them at all times. Morgan just usually waited until it rang a few times before answering.

Nick answered on the first ring every time without fail.

“Miss me already?” he asked in lieu of a proper greeting.

Morgan did, truthfully, but she wouldn’t tell him that. “I’m about to ask you something a little wild.”

“I’m listening.”

“So… the storms have, uh, they’ve taken out my power?” she said—asked—cautiously, unsure of how to even approach her wild idea without just blurting it out. “And—I was wondering if I could maybe stay at your place while you’re at home for Christmas.”

Just as quickly as he’d answered the phone, Nick said, “Come to Michigan with me.”

“That’s an even worse idea now than it was last week,” Morgan scoffed, glaring at the flickering shadows created by her candles.

“Why?”

“Because you’re leaving this afternoon. It’s Christmas, and there’s no way there’s any plane tickets left.”

“It’s a four-hour drive. I can’t, but if you don’t mind driving in the storm, we can leave whenever you’re ready, and be there before dinner. I’ll try to get you a ticket right now, though. I’ll call you back.”

“Nick—if you don’t want me staying in your house without you—”

“I don’t want you spending Christmas by yourself. I want to spend Christmas with you, Mo. Can I sort this out and call you back?”

Morgan relented, even if only because she had no clue how else to respond. She waited for him to call back, not knowing if the flight or the drive would be worse for her self-control.

None of it worried her too much from a work perspective, as she used half of her generous PTO to take a break over Christmas when nobody else in the company wanted it.

From a personal perspective… spending Christmas at Nick’s family home with Nick’s family was one of the more daunting things she could think of doing.

Her phone rang after an hour of silence. She’d been preparing herself for a total reversal of his suggestion and was trying to plan how she was going to keep warm until her power was back on.

“We’re going to have to drive,” he told her, sounding a little harried and out of breath. “So, if you can pack enough for four days and walk to mine as quick as you can, we can leave as soon as you get here.”

“Nick… Just get on the plane, I’ll be fine here,” she insisted, hating that he was changing all of his plans at the very last minute just because the universe and the weather hated her.

“No can do. I already told my mom you were coming, and she’s preparing Katrina’s old bedroom as we speak.”

“You can’t use your mom against me.”

“It’s working, though. Isn’t it?”

Morgan huffed, stared out the window at the ongoing storm and bounced on the spot for a moment as she thought over the idea, over Karin expecting her, and finally said, “I need to pack.”

She rushed through packing enough for four nights, including something nice for Christmas Day when Nick made out that it was an all-out, extended family affair that had Morgan returning back to the idea of just staying in her frozen house. She managed, though, and packed far too much for what was essentially a long weekend and met Nick in his garage where he was waiting at his car with a smile even bigger than she was used to.

Relief coursed through her when she saw that his car was still a very sensible Toyota and not an expensive luxury car that he expected her to drive without warning—she hadn’t even realised that was a possibility until she was there.

Nick started talking instantly, setting up the route on Google Maps and hitting play on Spotify. Morgan was actually quite distracted by the CarPlay screen that took up the centre of the console because her car interior had to be pulled apart to plug in an aux cord. The four-hour estimated travel time stared back at Morgan, the longest drive she’d done since driving to Columbus, and she took a steadying breath. Being in a car with Nick for that long was going to be the hardest part of the entire trip.

“So, my mom has set up Katrina’s room for you, and Nolan will be staying in Alex’s room.”

“Nolan?” Morgan clarified, even though she knew it would be Moyle. “Does your family just take in strays?”

“My mom can’t say no to feeding somebody, you know that.”

She did know. Intimately. While she had never been one to focus on her weight, the lack of running in her life combined with the increase in hearty food was making her aware of the scales for the first time in a long time. She would never decline a home cooked meal, though, so it wasn’t worrying her too much.

Nick gave her a quick rundown of his extended family, as well as some extra information about his siblings. Morgan tried to commit it all to memory as best she could, even if she knew she would forget it the second she was faced with an actual person to put to a name.

Two hours into their drive, when they were nearing Toledo, Nick asked, “Do you want to stop for a bit?”

Morgan’s brow furrowed as she looked at their estimated arrival time of just after two. They hadn’t stopped yet, and she wasn’t mad at the idea of driving without a break if it meant getting there sooner.

“I could use a stretch, and I think your knee could, too.”

It wasn’t until Nick pointed it out that she realised she’d been rubbing at her sore knee and couldn’t say how long she’d been doing it.

“Can we stop somewhere I can buy presents?” she suggested, not ready to admit that it was to give her knee a break. Nick wasn’t stupid enough to miss the deflection.

It wasn’t until they were inside a shopping mall that Nick asked who she wanted to buy presents for.

Incredulously, Morgan’s eyes widened, and she scrambled to remember the list she’d been creating in the car, “Your dad? Your siblings? Moyle?”

“Nothing for my mom?” he asked, teasing, and pointing into the Yankee Candle store they were walking past.

Morgan directed him away with a hand on his forearm. It was a very nice forearm, even through his thick sweater. That wasn’t something she had ever thought about.

“I already bought her something when I thought she might still be in Columbus. I was going to run it over to you before you left for your flight.”

She would have had to see him anyway to give him his present to open on Christmas Day. She wasn’t even sure he realised she had something for him tucked away in her bag.

“Nobody is expecting presents,” he assured her, still being easily moved in any direction she led him.

“Sure,” Morgan nodded in agreement, only to immediately continue, “but I can’t just hand one to your mom and not get anything for anyone else. That’s so rude.”

Nick conceded and agreed to help her find something small for his family, only if she promised to not buy anything for Nolan who, he assured her, would not have taken the time to get her anything. That at least made sense to Morgan—nobody had known she was even coming until that morning.

Morgan had never had a more rushed shopping experience—and the only person rushing her was herself. They did manage to get out with presents for Karl, Alex and Katrina. Morgan hoped they were worth it. Even in her haste she made sure to buy something nice, something usable, something they would want. Nick wasn’t always very believable when he was trying to assure her she wasn’t just buying garbage. She didn’t think he was as bad a liar as she was; maybe she was wrong about it.

Walking around and stretching meant that Morgan made it through the rest of the drive without too much pain. There was some ibuprofen in her future regardless.

Karin greeted them when they arrived, Morgan melting into the hug because she missed them even after less than two weeks since her last. Karin didn’t seem bothered by the length of it. Her hug with Nick was just as long, anyway.

Between the three of them—two, really, with Nick on crutches—they managed to bring in everything packed into the Toyota and carry it up to the second floor and the bedrooms. Morgan’s bags were dropped into what she assumed had been Katrina’s childhood bedroom, but she didn’t stay there for very long before she wandered back down the hall to Nick’s room.

“Karl will be home soon, and we’ll have some dinner,” Karin said as they passed each other in the hall.

Morgan knocked on the doorframe to the room Karin had walked out of and tilted her head around the corner when Nick acknowledged her. He was simultaneously packing and unpacking, switching out clothes that he’d brought back from Columbus for things still in his drawers, his bad leg kneeling on a chair that looked like it belonged in the dining room. Morgan sat down on the end of his bed to watch.

Nick looked between her and the door, his cheeks brightening suddenly, and he stumbled over his words, “If we’re in a room together—or if you’re in a room with Nolan—or I guess the three of us together—the door—she knows we’re adults it’s just—a married thing and—”

“It’s fine,” Morgan said slowly with her head tilted. “Doors open. Pretty standard.”

With still red cheeks, Nick’s shoulders fell, and he mumbled, “Feels a bit like we’re in high school.”

Morgan hummed, it did feel a bit unnecessary when they were in their mid-20s and, more importantly, not in a relationship. Them not being in a relationship, though, was all the more reason to let it slide. She had nothing to hide.

A thought crossed her mind, and she couldn’t help but tease, “You bring a lot of girls home in high school?”

“We had, ya know,” Nick mumbled, again, his cheeks growing impossibly redder, “assignments and stuff.”

“Some biology? Human anatomy?” she prodded, leaning forward.

Nick’s head shook, a nervous laugh bubbling out of his mouth, “My mom would have had my head if I’d pulled that.”

“You must have gone wild when you were shipped off to Alberta.” Morgan leant forward so excitedly that she nearly face planted off the bed. “And then to college? Nicholas Blankenburg, have you been holding out on me?”

His laughter stopped, and the mood in the room turned sombre rather abruptly. Morgan sat up straighter, worried about what she’d done to cause the sudden change.

“Was too busy pining over you in college to go wild.”

Morgan’s breath hitched. “You didn’t pine over me for four years.”

“Not four, no.”

Nick smiled gently as he spoke, the eye contact he was making with her, earnest and intense, had Morgan shifting with nervous energy.

“When is Nolan getting here?” she asked, deflecting.

“Right now!”

Morgan’s head snapped to the door at the loud, new voice. It was, perhaps unsurprisingly, Nolan who had shouted at them. He walked into the room with his arms held wide and made a beeline for Nick. Morgan couldn’t help but feel like she was interrupting something when they hugged each other, speaking to each other in low, excited voices, so she took to looking around Nick’s unexpectedly bare room.

She’d expected more trophies, more jerseys, more proof that he’d played hockey his entire life. There were a few things, some posters and hockey sticks—

“Mo!”

Morgan looked forward to Nolan standing directly in front of her, his arms stretched just as wide as they had been for Nick. She rose to her feet and was immediately swept into a hug as if she was a long-lost friend and not just someone who, for two years, had been in the same, very expanded group.

Regardless, she greeted him happily and warmly. It was a hockey boy thing she’d never forgotten, that they all very much treated everybody they liked as if they were family. Nick’s easy acceptance in her life had been proof enough, but Nolan dropping down onto the bed beside her and starting up his own teasing of Nick did a good job at solidifying it.

Morgan didn’t even think as she followed Nick up the staircase—it was just the two of them, Nolan nowhere to be seen. She stretched out on Nick’s bed after switching on his bedside lamp to light the room, watching as he hobbled around the room, hanging up his coat and removing his tie. The movement was getting smoother, without a doubt, but there was still a noticeable caution.

“Your family is really great,” she whispered. “You’re so lucky to have them.”

She held her breath as he laid on the bed beside her and ignored the swoop in her stomach as he faced her and put his hands under his cheek on the pillow.

“Can I ask why you don’t talk to yours? I guessed it was pretty bad when you didn’t spend Thanksgiving with them, and now you’re here for Christmas.”

Her shrug was awkward, but she tried to buy herself time to think of an answer he would understand.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“No, it’s… People who are tight with their families don’t always get it.”

The tension that fell over the room was what Morgan had been worried about, the sudden tightness of Nick’s mouth as he considered what she’d said and the inevitable conclusions he would jump to if she didn’t elaborate. Except, if anybody would accept her not elaborating it would be Nick. He very clearly wasn’t going to push her, even if he had started to frown and looked anywhere but her face.

“I haven’t—”

“You don’t have to, Mo, it’s okay.”

“I haven’t spoken to anyone in my family since I left for college,” she continued, her voice firm enough to ensure Nick knew she was comfortable with continuing. “My parents and I never saw eye-to-eye, and they couldn’t stand the idea of me going to college, especially not for cross country.”

“What did they want you to do?”

“Marry Drew, and start popping out kids.” Morgan sighed, saying the real reason, “Stay where they could keep an eye on me.”

“I can’t imagine anyone ever needing to keep an eye on you.”

“I was too worldly for their liking. Made me a bad daughter.”

She smiled—to herself, mostly—forever amused by the idea that she of all people was too worldly, that leaving Ohio for Michigan was some dangerous and exotic adventure, that returning to Ohio was her hooking up with the devil. Nick found it just as amusing, or maybe he just found her amusement amusing because he started smiling, too, and, before Morgan knew it, they were laughing together.

It quickly got out of hand, laughing at absolutely nothing, but hard enough that neither of them was really making much noise.

The distance between them was slowly slipping away as they laughed, Morgan listing forward with every desperate attempt at inhaling. Nick wasn’t leaning away, either, though, not even when the laughter eventually stopped, and they were just lying beside each other again.

With just the bedside lamp lighting the room and a small stream of light coming from the staircase, Morgan was captivated by the angelic glow on Nick’s already soft expression. An admission tumbled from her lips without much forethought; she didn’t even feel panicked by it.

“I regretted saying ‘no’ when you asked me out. Not right away, but you were really good about it and limited the flirting, and by the time you weren’t a freshman, and I didn’t have to feel weird about it… you stopped flirting all together.”

A conflicted grimace morphed onto Nick’s face, not bad enough for Morgan to regret what she’d said, but enough that if she’d known she would have held onto it for another moment.

“It was two-fold: that sort of persistence usually gets creepy, but it also sucked to get shut down like I did.”

“I heard you got a girlfriend.”

“Sophomore year, yeah. After I stopped asking about you all the time other girls started to pay attention to me.”

Morgan didn’t spend much time around the hockey team in her senior year—Nick’s sophomore year. The cross-country team’s strong connection to them had disappeared with the graduation of Sasha and Brendan, and any other friendships that had formed were enough for a plus-one to a party but not for either entire team to show up and wreak havoc.

Those friendships and plus-ones were more than enough, however, to get all the gossip that floated from the men’s hockey team, including Nicholas Blankenburg and his lovely, blonde, rowing team girlfriend.

“Nothing to do with you being twenty-one and on the hockey team?” she teased, combined with a gentle poke to his ribs.

He smirked, even if it was unexpected and self-disparaging, before shrugging coyly and admitting, “It didn’t hurt.”

Silence settled between them, Morgan just choosing to smile at Nick knowingly while still wishing that he’d started at UMich straight out of high school.

Nick’s eyes flickered to the door, and he said, “Hi Mom,” without any reservations, without moving an inch.

“It’s getting late,” Karin said from the doorway. “It might be time to let Morgan get ready for bed.”

Morgan knew that they were being told because Karin didn’t want them sharing a bed. If Morgan was less happy about being there, she might have been offended by the insinuation that she and Nick would get up to no good—they wouldn’t because they weren’t together. There was nothing for Karin to worry about, though, and nothing for Morgan to feel caught about because, despite being quite close to each other, they were on top of the covers, not at all touching.

Nick pulled his phone out of his pocket, then revealed the time to the two of them. It said it was nearing eleven—later than she had expected.

“It is bedtime,” Morgan conceded, rolling to plant her feet on the floor. When she was standing, she stretched out her back—they’d been lying there for a couple hours, and she didn’t realise how stiff she was until she was upright.

“I’ll see you kids in the morning. Make sure you get some sleep; it’s going to be a big day.”

“Course, mom,” Nick said, sitting up against the headboard.

They all said their good nights, and Morgan lingered for just a moment to smile at Nick. She wondered, briefly, what it would be like to stay, to curl up under the covers beside him, but let the thought go.

She ducked into the bathroom to brush her teeth and take off her makeup before she changed into her pyjamas.

Nolan passed the bathroom and stopped in Nick’s door; Morgan only saw him out of the corner of her eye, and she must have been out of sight for him because he didn’t so much as poke his head in to say goodnight.

“I kept her distracted as long as I could, but I’m really bad at rummy, bro.”

Morgan could only assume that Nick responded, but she couldn’t hear; she was a little desperate to know if he had, to know what he’d said, but couldn’t very well ambush them and ask. She kept brushing her teeth and heard Nolan’s side of their conversation, though it was just them saying goodnight to each other.

She and Nolan entered the hallway at the same time, Nolan’s eyebrows raising just a little as they crossed paths. Morgan gave no indication that she heard anything—because she didn’t, really—just said goodnight, that she'd see him in the morning.

In the many years since Morgan had had a proper Christmas celebration, she didn’t think she’d missed it. Her family had been small—her, her parents, her dad’s parents and brother—so it had never felt like the huge affair she saw amongst her friends or on television. The madness around it always felt overdramatic.

Until she saw the Blankenburgs’ Christmas Day.

Despite talking to Nick until late and then lying in bed for far too long replaying their entire conversation, Morgan was roused before eight by a lot of noise coming from downstairs. It sounded like everyone had been awake for hours, they were so rowdy.

She popped her head into the hallway to get a read on if she had the time to have a shower and ran into Nolan at the top of the stairs. He’d been trying to sneak about, judging by the caught-out expression on his face. As soon as he realised it was a very awake Morgan, he grabbed her by the wrist and shouted down the stairs.

“She’s awake!”

Loud cheers resonated from the living room.

Gathered in front of the Christmas tree was Nick’s family—his parents, his siblings and their partners—drinking Karin’s delicious hot chocolate. They were clearly waiting for her to join them before they could start, and it formed a pit in the bottom of Morgan’s stomach.

She rushed to sit beside Nick on the couch, ignoring the skip in her heartbeat at the sight of him in his robe with his hair still in brushed. Everyone was wearing their robes except for Morgan as she’d been ambushed before she had the chance to grab it.

To make up for the lack of an extra layer, she sat so close to Nick she was practically on top of him. He didn’t flinch.

Panic set in when Morgan realised they were going to be opening presents. The process of how they would be opening them hadn’t really crossed her mind, and she was met with the prospect of everybody sitting and watching as each present was opened.

Alex had been given the task of handing out presents which meant Morgan, thankfully, didn’t need to leave Nick’s side. That meant, though, that she got a front row view of him opening her present for him.

There was a very unsubtle theme to her presents—the ‘lucky golf towel’, printed golf socks and a personalised scorecard holder which she honestly had bought blindly with her fingers crossed.

She chanced a look at Nick’s face when he’d opened everything, after seeing him run his finger over the monogram on the scorecard holder, and looked away instantly because she couldn’t bear the softness with which he was looking at her.

When Alex handed her a present from Nick, Morgan frowned at the size and weight of it. She opened it carefully, doing her best to ignore Nick’s close watch.

“Nick, this is ridiculous,” she protested, seeing the Nintendo Switch packaging.

“It’s selfish,” he assured her, his arm finally wrapping around her shoulders. “We can finally play games together when we’re not in the same room.”

She thanked him in a whisper and stared down at the gift. When she lifted her eyes for half a second, she caught Nolan’s eye just long enough to register the wink he sent her way.

And still it paled in comparison to the gift labelled from Mom + Dad. The label itself was enough to make Morgan want to cry, and, when she revealed the small Louis Vuitton bag inside, she just let the tears fall.

“Now I know where he gets it from,” Morgan managed to squeak out, referencing the ridiculousness she had accused Nick of.

Karin told her there was something inside the bag—Morgan couldn’t believe there was more—and, sure enough, Morgan unzipped the bag and pulled out the second part of her gift.

She was out from under Nick’s arm, on her feet and hugging Karin in a flat second.

All because of an apron.

Morgan knew leaving Washington was going to be hard as soon as she’d arrived. Nick was nice enough to let her delay their departure as long as she wanted, though. Their early morning departure time turned to midday, and by midday it was clear they wouldn’t be getting into Columbus until later that evening.

It didn’t matter to Nick when they were driving. He’d originally wanted to be home in time to watch the game against Buffalo on the television, but a snowstorm in Buffalo meant that the game had been postponed, so they no longer had to be back by a certain time.

Just prior to lunch, Karin asked to speak to Morgan privately. Nick was just as confused as Morgan when she looked to him for a clue as to what to expect; Nolan stood beside him wearing his best you’re in trouble face.

Karin shooed the boys away when they lingered. She gestured for Morgan to sit down at the bay window and went about making some hot chocolate while she asked Morgan about if she was going to be alright to drive back to Columbus and when she was returning to work. It didn’t take a genius to work out that it was the lead up to the actual conversation, so Morgan sat patiently until Karin put mugs down on the table and sat down with her.

“I just want to talk to you about your knee.”

Morgan sighed, ignored the instantaneous ache, and nodded because she didn’t know what else she could do.

“It’s fine,” Morgan tried to assure Karin. “It’s really fine.”

Karin hummed, not at all believing it. Morgan needed to get better at lying.

“Nick mentioned that you’ve been trying to run again, and it hasn’t been going so well.”

“Not as well as I want,” she conceded. “But it’s fine. I’m fine. Really.”

“Karl and I have been talking and we know that it must be incredibly hard to get the treatment you need to get better, and it must be equally as terrifying when it’s already not worked so well—we want to give you a loan to get you the medical care you need.”

“You—what?”

Across the table, with her hands wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate, Karin didn’t look as if she’d just offered Morgan wasn’t anything life changing or even important at all. Morgan wrapped her own hands around her mug and drank out of it, the burning of her tongue barely even registered.

“I know that Nick has already offered, but I don’t blame you for saying no to that kind of offer from a friend. We wanted to offer as parents.”

Morgan didn’t tell her that Nick had briefly mentioned the idea of marriage.

She did stumble over some disbelieving thank-yous and some clarifying questions before she started to cry. She had to think about it, of course, whether or not she wanted to be indebted to Karin and Karl—be indebted to the parents of a guy who had quickly become her best friend, and if it was worth the risk of something going wrong and multiple relationships going to shit.

Karin agreed to let her have time to think about it, that nothing needed to be decided any time soon, and that the offer would not be taken off the table.

When the next questions were about the drive back and whether or not the weather was good enough for them to get back safely, it gave Morgan some time to work through it before she was faced with Nick.

#nick blankenburg fic #nick blankenburg imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #homemade fic #cbj fic #need a little company fic

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dantakeyoman · 1 year

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𝐉𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐘 | 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐭𝐰𝐨

♡ 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

♡ * 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈, 𝒔𝒆𝒙𝒚, 𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒍𝒆, 𝒛𝒐𝒎𝒃𝒊𝒆-𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏. 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒔. *

♡ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐦 (𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬), 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐨𝐟 𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬), 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐬, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.

♡ * 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒚: 𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒌 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏 𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒍 *

𝐎𝐍𝐄

The last six years had been the best years of your life, including pre-Z day.

...

Okay, maybe not best, but very high up there.

Never, in this life or the next, would you have guessed that these people would become such an important part of your life.

Or that your relationship would begin to feel nothing short of familial.

Save for Tallahassee, of course.

You had taken on a sort of motherly figure towards Little Rock, and for Wichita and Columbus...

Maybe one of those laid back aunts?

Anyways, your East Coast tour with the apocalyptic Brady Bunch had brought you to the White House...or whatever's left of it.

The five of you decided to hole up there for a little while and rest in style.

But after a month or so of being cooped up in the mansion, you decided to take up your own form of relaxation by working on one of the limos left in the White House Garage.

It actually worked as a sort of bonding activity for you and Tal, seeing as he was looking for something to fill the Cadillac Escalade sized hole that had been left in his heart.

"I love you so much, baby," Tallahassee cooed, lifting his welding mask with a look of pure admiration, "You're gorgeous."

You rolled out from under the car and lifted your grease smudged goggles, shooting him a glare.

And as if he could feel your gaze, he turned to you, changing his tune.

"Of course, not as much as you, darlin'," he assured, flipping his mask back on and getting to work, "The Beast here's a close second."

"Lucky me," you sarcastically smiled, standing up and grabbing a rag to wipe your hands, "Ya hear that, Little Rock? I'm a narrow first to a car."

She laughed, sitting herself on the table and handing you your toolbox.

You and Tallahassee still hadn't hashed out exactly what you were, or labelled it in any sort of way.

You two had kissed, made out, fucked, but never actually talked about what it meant to one another.

Shoot, you two hadn't even said the L word yet.

But it was just known within the group that you were together exclusively, no names attached, and that was the way it would most likely stay.

"Just goes to show that romance is a bust. There'll always be a tricked out car ready to replace you."

Little Rock looked like she was thinking for a moment, before a smile stretched on her face.

"Well, maybe being first to a car wouldn't be so bad...if we find someone for me," she suggested.

Just as you were about to respond, Tal lifted his mask with an obnoxious laugh.

"Shouldn't be a problem," he chuckled, "As long as you're open to dating zombies."

You facepalmed.

Sometimes you wondered if he had the bone that helps you sympathize just completely taken out his body.

"So you're saying what? I'm never gonna find a boyfriend? Or get married? Have a family?" She asked.

"We're your family, so one outta three ain't bad," he shrugged.

You sighed, covering your face.

That was the worst possible answer.

In an upset huff, Little Rock stormed off, leaving the garage.

And when she was completely gone, you hit Tal in the head with a bolt.

"Ow!" He winced, sharply turning to you as he rubbed the area, "The hell was that for?"

"You need to stop babyin' her," you scolded, starting to pack up your tools and such for the day, "She's eighteen, and she feels a little cooped up at the moment. It's normal. We just gotta find her some people to hang out with."

"We're people," he scoffed, muffled by his mask as he turned off his blow torch.

"Other people her age, Tally," you clarified, turning to him with a tired look.

He let out his own sigh, climbing out the tiny cock-pit of the Beast and taking off his mask.

"I don't understand why she's so antsy. We got everythin' you could ever want right here," he shook his head, undoing his welding apron.

"She's an adult, and she has needs," you started, putting your toolbox in its assigned cabinet, "Needs which, believe it or not, will not be satisfied by killin' zombies or fixin' up cars."

He tilted his head, confused about what you were talking about.

Until you raised your eyebrows with a knowing look, and the realization hit

"She's too young," he immediately denied.

You scoffed.

"How old were you when you had your first?"

...

"That's not important."

"I rest my case," you smirked.

"Even if that was something that was...needed...there isn't a soul for miles," he waved you off.

"Well then maybe soon, we might wanna travel some miles to find her somebody," you huffed, starting to get frustrated with his stubbornness.

"Who? Some random twenty somethin' that wants ta get his wick wet? Or a desperate teen that doesn't know his own ass from a hole in the ground?"

Fair point.

You scoffed.

Annoyingly fair point.

You rolled your eyes, turning away from him to finish cleaning up.

Tal smiled to himself, happy he had won the argument, but after a minute or so, he noticed that you were still icing him out.

And he'd rather have lost then face your cold shoulder.

So he rested his hands on your waist and gently turning you around to face him.

You cocked an eyebrow, and he placed a kiss on your hairline.

"I just wanna do what's best for her. You know that," he said sincerely, leaning his forehead into yours.

In your head, you cursed at yourself, pissed and embarrassed that you were already melting for him.

You knew he hated the cold shoulder.

He knew you liked it when he got soft all of a sudden.

You knew that he hates it when you don't react.

And he knew you went crazy for his accent.

Unstoppable force meets immovable object.

...

You caved.

"You love playin' me for a sucker, donchu?"

He chuckled.

"My favorite pass-time."

"I hate you."

"Wasn't what you was sayin' two nights ago."

"You're sleepin' on the couch."

"An' you're comin' with me," he smirked, pulling you in for a kiss.

You rolled your eyes, but eased into it, throwing your arms over his shoulders.

'This man's gonna be the death of me.'

𝒛 𝒐 𝒎 𝒃 𝒊 𝒆 𝒍 𝒂 𝒏 𝒅

"Hello? Ho, ho, ho!" Tallahassee smiled, popping out from behind his Christmas tree, "Merry Christmas!"

He was dressed in a red blazer with a Santa hat and cotton balls he'd glued in the shape of a beard.

'Oh, no.'

"Hey, Tal," Little Rock sighed.

"Santa," he corrected.

Columbus and Wichita were trying desperately not to laugh, and you pinched the bridge of your nose, tired.

He plopped himself down in a chair, patting his knee for Little Rock to sit, "What would you like for Christmas, little girl? A pony?"

"No, I'd actually really like you to stop calling me little girl," she shook her head.

"Well, technically, you are little and you're a girl," he corrected again.

"Well, uh, I am not a little girl, Santa," Columbus chimed, handing his gun to Wichita and sitting down on Tal's knee, "But do you know what I would like?"

"I don't give a fuck what you like," Tal denied in his Santa voice, shoving Columbus off his knee.

"I'm getting a drink," you sighed, walking over to the President's desk and grabbing his mug, pouring yourself some bourbon.

"That reminds me," Wichita perked up with a smile, "Gifts. We have gifts."

Everyone took a seat on the couches as she grabbed a brown paper bag out from under the tree and handed it to Columbus.

"Oh my God," he went wide eyed with a smile as he pulled out a book, "It's a first edition Tolkien. And you wrote in it. There's my name right there, marring this perfectly preserved paper. And yours, too."

"I actually drew the portrait of you in the back," you smirked, kicking up your feet on the table.

He flipped the book over, opening to the back page to see you had made a horribly drawn stick caricature of him that had an odd emphasis on his hair.

"You didn't stop. Thank you so much," he smiled, giving you a thankful nod before moving to Wichita's couch and giving her a kiss.

"Touching," Tal nodded, going over to the tree and picking up a present, handing it to Little Rock, "I couldn't find any wrapping paper but don't worry, just tear it open. It doesn't matter. S'only Taft."

He literally wrapped the present with a painting of Former President William Howard Taft.

"He was our fattest president, so there's actually quite a lot left over. If you need some wrapping paper," he sighed, "Columbus, I didn't get anything from you."

"I didn't get anything from you," you added, taking a sip of your bourbon.

"Your gift's later," he assured, giving you an awful wink-smirk combination.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose as the others caught on to what he was implying.

"With Santa..." Columbus shook his head disapprovingly.

"No one wants to know that," Little Rock shivered.

"Do you ever get sick of sleeping on the couch?" You wondered out loud.

You weren't against the present, not one bit.

But the concept of time and place is something that Tallahassee just couldn't grasp.

Little Rock had torn through the Taft wrapping paper and opened the box to see that it was a fancy looking revolver.

"Just what I wanted. Another gun," Little Rock sarcastically smiled, visibly sinking at the sight of it

"Oh, hey, well, not just any gun. A Colt .45," Tal corrected, pulling out the weapon, "And not just any Colt .45, the King's."

"England? Denmark? Lichtenstein?" Columbus guessed.

"Here we go," you sighed, already knowing what was coming.

He'd talked your ear off so many times about him that you might as well have known the man personally.

"There's only one king," Tal held up a finger, posing like a certain 50s rockstar, "Elvis Aaron fuckin' Presley, the greatest who ever lived. The king of kings."

"Yup," you popped the p, taking another sip of your drink.

"He gave this gun to Nixon when he visited the White House, and I give it to you locked and loaded," Tal smiled, handing it back to her, "Yeah, he used to shoot that Colt in his backyard. King's palace. Memphis, Tennessee. I tell you about Graceland?"

"Only like a hundred times," Little Rock quickly answered.

"We'll go there together someday," he nodded.

"Actually, I'm gonna go shoot this right now," she stated, standing up, "I think I saw some Zs down by the reflecting pool."

"I'll go with," he suggested, but more like insisted.

"I'll go by myself," she assured, frustration showing plainly on her face.

'Oh, shit.'

"It's Christmas," he gasped, offended.

"It's not fucking Christmas, it's November 17th," she scoffed, walking out and slamming the door behind herself.

Tal looked shocked at her sudden outburst, and also slightly hurt.

You groaned, letting your head fall back for a moment.

'It's like shit just goes into one ear and right out the other with this man.'

"Tallahassee, what did we discuss a couple days ago?" You rhetorically asked.

He paused for a moment, slightly nerved by the use of his full name and the sudden question.

...

"I need to stop babyin' her," he answered, the wheels starting to turn.

"And what did you just do?"

".............Baby her."

"Thank you," you smiled, "Now give the damn girl her space."

𝒛 𝒐 𝒎 𝒃 𝒊 𝒆 𝒍 𝒂 𝒏 𝒅

"I mean, it's not like I started wedding planning or anything. I'm not crazy," Columbus vented, now going on month two.

"Who wants to get married in winter? Spring, sure."

You, Columbus, and Tallahassee were currently riding motor scooters around a mall, trying to get over the events of last month.

Tal's Santa display was the final straw for Little Rock.

She was sick of him treating her like she was still twelve, and was sick of having no one her age to talk to about it.

And on top of that, a horribly timed proposal from Columbus to Wichita, which made the woman incredibly uncomfortable.

So they took the Beast and hightailed it.

Again.

So for the last two months straight, the only thing Columbus was willing to talk about was Wichita, Wichita, Wichita.

And it was driving you and Tallahassee up a wall.

Until, he eventually broke.

"I mean with my hair and the humidity-." "Oh, my God, man! I cannot listen to this shit anymore! It's been over a month!"

"Yeah, I'm bereft," he agreed.

"I'm giving you one more day to mope around, and then you gotta snap the fuck outta it," Tal sighed, "This whole finding a home idea of yours has made us soft, and by us, I mean you."

"It's high time that we nut up and hit the road again. And by we, I mean me. That's where I belong. Lone wolf. You are welcome to tag along."

You sighed, massaging your temple.

You had the feeling that Little Rock was going to crack soon.

You knew something like this was gonna happen.

And yet you had done nothing to prevent it.

Now, you were paying the price.

The girls gone.

The guys arguing.

And one skull-splitting headache.

The snarls of a zombie snapped you out of your self-reproaching thoughts, and you let out a sigh of relief.

It was huddled near the mirror of a destroyed clothing store, dressed as if she was once a shopper there.

Tallahassee lifted his gun, about to shoot it when you held your arm out in front of him.

"I'm taking this one," you stated in a tone that left no argument, hopping off your scooter.

The two men turned to each other, one with a look of worry and one with a look of pride.

The zombie continued to hiss, staying in its place as you walked closer, a pissed look on your face.

Noticing a halfway broken bottle on the ground, you kicked it into the monster's face, it letting out an agitated roar and sprinting towards you.

You quickly unsheathed the crowbar from your pants loop and wound up your swing, slamming a full force hit right into the zombie's face.

It fell to the ground, gurgling and spitting up blood, but you pressed on, bashing the poor thing in any and every spot you could reach.

Until eventually it looked like a pile of mushy, bloody ground meat.

"That's gotta be, like, a thirteen-tuple tap," Columbus chimed, feeling sorry for the zombie as you were still beating the living shit out of it, "I'm pretty sure it's dead."

Landing a final hit on her face, you stopped, panting as you looked down at your work.

...

'Yikes.'

Okay, maybe that wasn't entirely about Little Rock.

In all honesty, Tallahassee's talk about striking out on his own made something pang in your chest.

Something sharp.

Something that had never happened before.

You were self-aware enough to know that you'd gotten seriously attached to the man over the last six years, and while he was a major pain in the ass, it would be incredibly hard for you to press on without him.

So, seeing and hearing him say so easily that he should just go off on his own, made you feel like shit.

And a little ashamed, too.

"Got it all out your system?" Tallahassee cockily asked, practically glowing.

He was proud to say that you were his gal.

His sexy, zombie-beating gal.

"Yeah," you caught your breath, tossing the crow bar, "Just needed a punching bag."

"Y'know, I never told y'all this before," he started, your display suddenly reminding him of something, "In fact, I never told anybody."

You turned around to face him, cocking a brow.

Columbus was also intrigued.

"But I have Native American blood coursing through my veins."

...

You did your best to suppress a snicker.

"Like, right now?" Columbus asked, fighting back a smile.

"Yeah, right now. Blackfoot Indian to be exact," Tal nodded, stepping off his scooter and walking over to one of the stores, "The freest men in history. Mid-1800s, roamed the plains, no houses, no laws, no possessions, no chiefs to report to, no wives to listen to."

'Wonder how long they lasted.'

"They listened....to the call of the Buffalo," he smirked, starting to push a bunch of jewelry off a table, "And the hunted those buffalo by herding them off the cliff to their deaths. The Great Buffalo Jump."

You rolled your eyes and turned around to go look for another blunt force object, already sensing a rant coming on.

And Columbus did, too, whipping around his scooter to look for a candle store.

"I don't know why I never told anyone about my Blackfoot blood. I guess it's just a sacred little secret. Honestly, you two are the first non-tribesmen I have genuinely trusted because you've always been there for me. You care and you listen. You really listen."

𝒛 𝒐 𝒎 𝒃 𝒊 𝒆 𝒍 𝒂 𝒏 𝒅

#tallahassee x reader #tallahassee #zombieland x reader #zombieland #zombieland double tap #zombieland double tap x reader

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palmofafreezinghand · 1 year

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Charles Evenson meets Esme Platt for the first time.

1911.

Charles Evenson was twenty-five when he met Esme Anne Platt for the first time, she was a fresh sixteen.

It was a brief accidental meeting. He was calling on her father, chasing after an overdue payment, a moment neither would think over before realizing their fates were sealed that day.

George Platt’s loan payments were piling up. He blamed it on Mother Nature every month, whining Winter had simply hit their poor little farm harder than usual. Being one of the more junior members of the bank Charles had been given the countless farmer accounts, almost all underwater. He had spent the past month visiting the farms scattered on the outskirts of Columbus, warning men with wrinkled faces and calloused hands that this Spring better be a plentiful one.

The Platts were only thirty or miles outside of Columbus, it was an easy drive, almost pleasant. Worry sunk in his gut as he drove by miles of dry fields, brown thin leaves almost begging to be fuel for a flame. As he drew closer to where he knew the Platt farm was, nestled between much larger family farms, the fields were suddenly green. Almost as if someone had forgotten to paint the other fields.

The small white farmhouse came into view as he drove down the fruit-tree-lined driveway, flowers hung almost every window. An old hound lay on the front porch. It was a picturesque scene, very unlike what he had been led to believe by the owner of the property.

The white-faced hound howled as he walked up the front steps. He kicked at it, foot landing an inch from it, and it bolted into the yard. His fist hovered over the front door as it slammed into his face. A young woman came barreling through the door, she did not even look up as she stormed out of the house. If she had looked she would not have barreled into his chest. The force of the collision sent them tumbling backward, off the porch. They were a pile of limbs in the dirt driveway.

“Sorry,” the young woman mumbled as she jumped to her feet, already five steps down the drive, not so much as giving him a second glance.

He watched her with more than mild curiosity as he got to his own feet. Her long curly hair appeared unbrushed, she was wearing slacks too large for her, and she had utter disregard for other people.

“Do you know where I can find Mr. George Platt?” He called after her.

She stopped, turning on her heel, which made him realize only now that she was barefoot. “Senior or Junior?”

“I’m not quite sure,” he admitted.

“Senior’s that way,” she pointed past the orchard, “been dead ten years now.” Presuming they were done with the conversation she began walking again.

“And Junior?” He asked.

“Barn!” She shouted, gesturing to a large barn in the distance, not even looking back at him.

“Thank you, miss. Your name was?”

She glanced at him, not faltering in her step, “who’d like to know?” She grinned a crooked grin that showed off an almost endearing dimple if one of her top teeth wasn't chipped.

“Charles, Charles Evenson. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he moved to tip his hat, only to realize it still lay on the ground.

When she didn’t respond he laughed to himself, almost in disbelief at the absurdity of the interaction, turning towards the barn. He was interrupted by that same voice. He glanced up at her, she was now walking backward to appraise him fully. “Esme,” she shouted a remarkable distance down the path.

“Pleasure," he said, believing he was lying but smiling slightly. She rolled her eyes and turned back around.

#charles evenson #esme cullen #esme platt #my stories #this is a part of a bigger thing but i want to try posting more snippets #also yes the year 1911 is intentional something wild does happen later that day totally implausible coincidence but hey its twilight #i feel like i have to make the disclaimer this whole piece does not defend him i hope that's obvious but in case not

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kemetic-dreams · 3 months

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Children of the Ocean God – Head Flattening

Head flattening is a painless, gradual cranial modification procedure, which involved binding a newborn’s head between two wooden boards which were wrapped in a cloth which would be tightened by hand. The pressure of the boards, gently and consistently applied over time, would cause the child’s forehead to elongate, creating a nearly flat silhouette extending from the tip of the infant’s nose to the crown of their head. It is also important to note that head flattening appears to have had no adverse effect on a child’s mental development. Black Caribs were indeed widely reputed to be very crafty huntsmen as well as highly skilled military strategists, both of which suggest that they knew how to put their noggins to use.

Head flattening was practiced by the Black Carib women (many of whom were Arawak) since flat, backwards sloping foreheads were seen as a sign of beauty and perfection. However, they were also other ancillary benefits, in particular for their sons, who would later become warriors. The Black Caribs, as well as other Amerindian tribes, believed that a flat forehead was advantageous in combat since if an arrow struck their head it would bounce back harmlessly. Another added benefit is that flat foreheads were supposed to better able to withstand blows from enemy war clubs.

Interestingly many Europeans who observed the practice of head flattening found it very barbaric and abusive, especially since mothers applied it to their fragile newborns infants. Ironically, in Black Carib culture head flattening was actually seen as a sign of good parenting by a loving mother.

The practice of head flattening was not unique to the Black Caribs and other Amerindian tribes in the Caribbean, such as the Arawaks. In fact, it was widely practiced in the Americas (e.g., by the Mayans and Incas) as well as in other geographies around the world including Europe (e.g., France, western Russia and Scandinavia ) and Central Asia. Intentional cranial modification predates written history and is in fact still practiced to this day in Vanuatu. This makes it one of the oldest continuously performed human customs. Fascinating stuff!

What is the Tainos appearance?

The Arawaks or the Tainos, as some of them were called, were not tall people; they were of medium height or short and generally slim. Christopher Columbus in his journals described them as neither African nor European. It is believed that they had an olive complexion. They also had long, straight, coarse black hair.

The men wore loin cloths and married women wore a nagu , which was like a skirt. They painted their bodies with designs in bright colors.

The Taino people were polytheistic, worshiping a pantheon of many different gods, ancestors and spirits, which they called Zemi. The word zemi was also used to refer to icons and fetishes of the gods, most often made from carved rocks. Atabey was the Taino mother goddess, and goddess of freshwater.

Taíno spirituality centered on the worship of zemis (spirits or ancestors). Major Taíno zemis included Atabey and her son, Yúcahu. Atabey was thought to be the zemi of the moon, fresh waters, and fertility. Other names for her included Atabei, Atabeyra, Atabex, and Guimazoa. The Taínos of Kiskeya (Hispaniola) called her son, "Yúcahu|Yucahú Bagua Maorocotí", which meant "White Yuca, great and powerful as the sea and the mountains". He was considered the spirit of cassava, the zemi of cassava – the Taínos' main crop – and the sea.

Guabancex was the non-nurturing aspect of the zemi Atabey who was believed to have control over natural disasters. She is identified as the goddess of hurricanes or as the zemi of storms. Guabancex had twin sons: Guataubá, a messenger who created hurricane winds, and Coatrisquie, who created floodwaters.

Iguanaboína was the goddess of good weather. She also had twin sons: Boinayel, the messenger of rain, and Marohu, the spirit of clear skies

Taínos, a term coined by Constantine Samuel Rafinesque in 1836.

Taíno is not a universally accepted denomination—it was not the name this people called themselves originally, and there is still uncertainty about their attributes and the boundaries of the territory they occupied.

The term nitaino or nitayno, from which "Taíno" derived, referred to an elite social class, not to an ethnic group. No 16th-century Spanish documents use this word to refer to the tribal affiliation or ethnicity of the natives of the Greater Antilles. The word tayno or taíno, with the meaning "good" or "prudent", was mentioned twice in an account of Columbus's second voyage by his physician, Diego Álvarez Chanca, while in Guadeloupe. José R. Oliver writes that the Natives of Borinquén, who had been captured by the Caribs of Guadeloupe and who wanted to escape on Spanish ships to return home to Puerto Rico, used the term to indicate that they were the "good men", as opposed to the Caribs.

Contrarily, according to Peter Hulme, most translators appear to agree that the word taino was used by Columbus's sailors, not by the islanders who greeted them, although there is room for interpretation. The sailors may have been saying the only word they knew in a native Caribbean tongue, or perhaps they were indicating to the "commoners" on the shore that they were taíno, i.e., important people, from elsewhere and thus entitled to deference. If taíno was being used here to denote ethnicity, then it was used by the Spanish sailors to indicate that they were "not Carib", and gives no evidence of self-identification by the native people.

According to José Barreiro, a direct translation of the word "Taíno" signified "men of the good". The Taíno people, or Taíno culture, have been classified by some authorities as belonging to the Arawak. Their language is considered to have belonged to the Arawak language family, the languages of which were historically present throughout the Caribbean, and much of Central and South America.

In 1871, early ethnohistorian Daniel Garrison Brinton referred to the Taíno people as the "Island Arawak", expressing their connection to the continental peoples. Since then, numerous scholars and writers have referred to the indigenous group as "Arawaks" or "Island Arawaks". However, contemporary scholars (such as Irving Rouse and Basil Reid) have recognized that the Taíno developed a distinct language and culture from the Arawak of South America.

Taíno society was divided into two classes: naborias (commoners) and nitaínos (nobles). They were governed by male chiefs known as caciques, who inherited their position through their mother's noble line. (This was a matrilineal kinship system, with social status passed through the female lines.) The nitaínos functioned as sub-caciques in villages, overseeing the work of naborias. Caciques were advised by priests/healers known as bohíques. Caciques enjoyed the privilege of wearing golden pendants called guanín, living in square bohíos, instead of the round ones of ordinary villagers, and sitting on wooden stools to be above the guests they received. Bohíques were extolled for their healing powers and ability to speak with deities. They were consulted and granted the Taíno permission to engage in important tasks

The Taíno had a matrilineal system of kinship, descent, and inheritance. Spanish accounts of the rules of succession for a chief are not consistent, and the rules of succession may have changed as a result of the disruptions to Taíno society that followed the Spanish intrusion.

Some Taíno practiced polygamy. Men, and sometimes women, might have two or three spouses. Ramón Pané, a Catholic friar who traveled with Columbus on his second voyage and was tasked with learning the indigenous people's language and customs, wrote in the 16th century that caciques tended to have two or three wives and the principal ones had as many as 10, 15, or 20.

The Taíno lived in settlements called yucayeques, which varied in size depending on the location.

The Taíno played a ceremonial ball game called batey. Opposing teams had 10 to 30 players per team and used a solid rubber ball. Normally, the teams were composed of men, but occasionally women played the game as well. The Classic Taíno played in the village's center plaza or on especially designed rectangular ball courts called batey. Games on the batey are believed to have been used for conflict resolution between communities.

Taíno spoke an Arawakan language and used an early form of proto-writing in the form of petroglyph,as found in Taíno archeological sites in the West Indies.

Some words they used, such as barbacoa ("barbecue"), hamaca ("hammock"), kanoa ("canoe"), tabaco ("tobacco"), sabana (savanna), and juracán ("hurricane"), have been incorporated into other languages.

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thepastisalreadywritten · 1 year

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By JENNIFER PELTZ

September 11, 2023

NEW YORK (AP) — Americans are looking back on the horror and legacy of 9/11, gathering Monday at memorials, firehouses, city halls and elsewhere to observe the 22nd anniversary of the deadliest terror attack on U.S. soil.

Commemorations stretch from the attack sites — at New York’s World Trade Center, the Pentagon and Shanksville, Pennsylvania — to Alaska and beyond.

President Joe Biden is due at a ceremony on a military base in Anchorage.

His visit, en route to Washington, D.C., from a trip to India and Vietnam, is a reminder that the impact of 9/11 was felt in every corner of the nation, however remote.

The hijacked plane attacks claimed nearly 3,000 lives and reshaped American foreign policy and domestic fears.

"On that day, we were one country, one nation, one people, just like it should be. That was the feeling — that everyone came together and did what we could, where we were at, to try to help,” said Eddie Ferguson, the fire-rescue chief in Virginia’s Goochland County.

It’s more than 100 miles (160 kilometers) from the Pentagon and more than three times as far from New York.

But a sense of connection is enshrined in a local memorial incorporating steel from the World Trade Center’s destroyed twin towers.

The predominantly rural county of 25,000 people holds not just one but two anniversary commemorations: a morning service focused on first responders and an evening ceremony honoring all the victims.

Other communities across the country pay tribute with moments of silence, tolling bells, candlelight vigils and other activities.

In Columbus, Indiana, 911 dispatchers broadcast a remembrance message to police, fire and EMS radios throughout the 50,000-person city, which also holds a public memorial ceremony.

Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts raise and lower the flag at a commemoration in Fenton, Missouri, where a “Heroes Memorial” includes a piece of World Trade Center steel and a plaque honoring 9/11 victim Jessica Leigh Sachs.

Some of her relatives live in the St. Louis suburb of 4,000 residents.

“We’re just a little bitty community,” said Mayor Joe Maurath, "but it’s important for us to continue to remember these events. Not just 9/11, but all of the events that make us free.”

New Jersey’s Monmouth County, which was home to some 9/11 victims, made Sept. 11 a holiday this year for county employees so they could attend commemorations.

As another way of marking the anniversary, many Americans do volunteer work on what Congress has designated both Patriot Day and a National Day of Service and Remembrance.

At ground zero, Vice President Kamala Harris is due to join the ceremony on the National September 11 Memorial & Museum plaza.

The event will not feature remarks from political figures, instead giving the podium to victims’ relatives for an hourslong reading of the names of the dead.

James Giaccone signed up to read again this year in memory of his brother, Joseph Giaccone, 43. The family attends the ceremony every year to hear Joseph’s name.

“If their name is spoken out loud, they don’t disappear,” James Giaccone said in a recent interview.

The commemoration is crucial to him.

“I hope I never see the day when they minimize this,” he said. “It’s a day that changed history.”

Biden, a Democrat, will be the first president to commemorate Sept. 11 in Alaska, or anywhere in the western U.S.

He and his predecessors have gone to one or another of the attack sites in most years, though Republican George W. Bush and Democrat Barack Obama each marked the anniversary on the White House lawn at times.

Obama followed one of those observances by recognizing the military with a visit to Fort Meade in Maryland.

First lady Jill Biden is due to lay a wreath at the 9/11 memorial at the Pentagon.

In Pennsylvania, where one of the hijacked jets crashed after passengers tried to storm the cockpit, a remembrance and wreath-laying is scheduled at the Flight 93 National Memorial in Stoystown operated by the National Park Service.

Harris’ husband, Doug Emhoff, is expected to attend the ceremony.

The memorial site will offer a new educational video, virtual tour and other materials for teachers to use in classrooms.

Educators with a total of more than 10,000 students have registered for access to the free “National Day of Learning” program, which will be available through the fall, organizers say.

“We need to get the word out to the next generation,” said memorial spokesperson Katherine Hostetler, a National Park Service ranger.

#9/11 #New York #Twin Towers #World Trade Center #Pentagon #Pennsylvania #hijacked plane attacks #Heroes Memorial #Patriot Day #National Day of Service and Remembrance #Flight 93 National Memorial #National Park Service #National Day of Learning #National September 11 Memorial & Museum #11 September 2001 #United States #terrorist attack #terror attack

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kingedmundsroyalmurder · 1 year

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Fanfiction excerpt, because I had so much fun writing this bit. Welcome to Valancy’s Blue Castle.

Nibbling contemplatively at her cold meal, Valancy sank into the safety of her mind, walking into the royal box at the grand tournament field outside of the castle walls. From there, she would judge the duel to come.

She spent a delightful twenty minutes negotiating the choosing of the champions. It was a beautiful day in Spain -- it was always beautiful in the Blue Castle, unless the day's story called for a storm. The sky shone bright azure blue overhead, and the sun sparkled on the lake near the tournament grounds. Valancy had chosen a rich blue velvet gown for the occasion, with long sleeves to protect her skin from the sun and delicate, intricate embroidery in golden thread across the entire skirt. As she ascended to her position in the royal box, the trumpeters sounded and the assembled crowd cheered her name. She allowed the fanfare to continue, then raised a hand for silence. She got it immediately. Valancy always got what she asked for at the Blue Castle.

She thanked the assembled lords and ladies for their attendance at this most serious of matters, and led a short prayer for the swift resolution of this affair. Overhead, the last of the puffy white clouds dissipated, as though God had heard her prayers and cleared His eyes to better observe the duel to come. "We begin," Valancy proclaimed, and the assembled crowd held its breath in anticipation, "with the choosing of the champions."

Lady Emerald de Fortune, as the victim of the plot, had the first pick of champions. She wore a gown of lavender silk, which set off her chestnut-colored hair and creamy skin perfectly. She was still pale from the attempted poisoning, and she had with her a page boy, ready to attend to her if she should start to feel ill once again. Lady Emerald, after a brief deliberation, chose Sir Christopher Noble, the fairest and most skilled of the knights. He bowed gracefully, first to Lady Emerald then to Valancy, and accepted Lady Emerald's token with a short but beautiful promise to protect and avenge her honor.

Next came the accused poisoner, Lady Davenport. She glided onto the field in a dress of emerald satin, cut almost scandalously low, and regarded Lady Emerald with ill concealed contempt. Lady Davenport was a long time resident of the Blue Castle, a schemer whose plots had both helped and hindered Valancy over the years. This was the first time in which her scheming had been for herself, and Valancy felt she was not enjoying the spotlight. Well, she should have thought of that before she started poisoning other ladies.

Lady Davenport took a long time to choose her champion, considering each of her choices in turn, studying them minutely and, seemingly, finding each one wanting. In the stands, the assembled nobles began to grow restless, and Valancy was forced to deploy many a stern gaze to quell the murmurs. At last, Lady Davenport selected Sir Marco Columbus, an older knight known for his great experience with duels. He had a long scar on his left arm from where he had been sliced open by a one-time opponent, and all the knights knew that they underestimated him at their peril.

#blue castle book club #let me know if people would rather i post these to a different tag and save the book club one for analysis

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twoblueheartslocked · 1 year

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SEBLAINE- PRESENT DAY (Late December/End of Year One)-I Still Remember the First Fall of Snow

Para/Phone Call: I Still Remember the First Fall of Snow- Part 1 of 2.

Rating: PG-13.

Sebastian: @colorsicantsee

Blaine: @twoblueheartslocked

Time: Year One: Present Day. December 30. 2 and a half months after No Stopping Your Plans (Present Day, End of Year One. Blaine 22 (as of October 22), Sebastian 21 (as of August 27)

Location: Ohio/Blaine’s Apartment- Brooklyn, New York

Info: Sebastian attempts to travel back to New York after visiting his parents in Ohio during a snowstorm. Blaine panics.

Warnings; please read: This para has themes of alcohol addiction, depression/anxiety, mentions of past domestic abuse, and mentions of death. This RP in general has themes of past abuse(Physical, mental and sexual), previous unwanted sexual situations, anxiety, depression, negative body image, drug use, alcohol use, cussing, and death(parents).

Extra Warnings: (This RP is not Kurt Hummel friendly. He is not a nice man at all. Never will be in this RP. You’ve all been warned.)

Title Taken From: All Too Well (TMV) (TV)-Taylor Swift

Under Cut for content. As usual, the para is mostly unedited.

(And how it glistened as it fell,

I remember it all too well)

Blaine’s POV:

All over Brooklyn large snowflakes fell in tufts of fluff so soft and delicate that Blaine was almost certain he could hear them whisper like fluttering wings against his window. Everything looked magical around the city and Blaine wanted so badly to love the glowing white blue hue the same way he had five years ago but his stomach was in nervous knots as he watched it fall steadily from a darkening, light polluted sky. The sight was visually beautiful but it terrified him all the same. He tried not to reach for his phone to check in with his loved ones once again. He’d already bothered them all this afternoon when the impending forecast of a snow storm turned out to be accurate.

He was mostly, as usual, worried about Sebastian as he was supposed to have been back from his Christmas break visit with his family this morning, but too much snow and bouts of blasting winds had stopped all flights temporarily and his boyfriend was stuck in an airport in Columbus, Ohio for who knows how long and service all over the Midwest, east coast and more was spotty at best so he was stuck just waiting to hear when he’d get to come home. Blaine had to believe that he’d get home and he’d be safe though and that had to be enough. The short time he got to talk to him today Blaine had made sure to keep his voice calm and as supportive as possible even though he wanted nothing more than to tell him how very worried he was about the weather.

Sebastian had been angry that they might not get to spend New Years Eve together, but he’d told his boyfriend that the date didn’t matter and they could mimic their own ball drop if they missed the night anyway. In reality the thought of not getting to celebrate their year back together on that specific date made Blaine feel a little lost. It was their anniversary after all. One year since that not so chance rooftop meeting and that perfect snowflake on Seb’s cheek beckoning Blaine with a reason to touch him again after so long apart. Filling them both with a wave of familiar feelings and the pull of a mythical string drawing them back together where they belonged. All the pain and happiness they’d been through the last year together was thanks to last New Years and Blaine really wanted him home, but he could wait if it meant Sebastian was stuck somewhere safe.

Good god though Blaine fucking missed him. He missed him more than he cared to admit to anyone- let alone himself. It was a sort of aching that left him feeling sore and it scared him a little. They’d talked and texted while he was away and Seb said he missed him, of course, but Blaine wondered if it was this much. He wondered if this was normal. It had only been nine days and it wasn’t like they didn’t go days without getting to see each other, they spent time apart all the time. This felt different though, perhaps it was because Sebastian was miles and miles away. It felt like his arms were stretched too far with wanting Sebastian closer and he didn’t know what to do with that. He just wanted to pull him back towards him and it worried him that maybe he was feeling too much. He felt untethered- unmoored from himself and he didn’t like feeling this way.

Sebastian had, of course, asked Blaine to come with him so they could spend Christmas together and Blaine had been so ready to say yes, but then he let himself sit and think too hard about it and it just didn’t seem like the right time. Sabine had been supportive of their relationship, if a bit tenitive but Seb’s dad was just… well, the worst trigger and Blaine wasn’t sure it was a good time for him to be there, especially considering the date he’d be there…

There was also the money aspect, Blaine still wasn’t comfortable with Sebastian’s easy and almost careless way with it and he wasn’t ready to let him pay for a trip that might lead to disaster anyway. Sebastian had promised him before leaving that he was okay though, that the therapy and the AA meetings were helping and that he’d call him if he felt like drinking or doing anything else that he might regret. So far his boyfriend had been just quiet about the whole trip, sort of changed the subject if Blaine asked about his dad, it worried Blaine but he didn’t want to pry or bother him with it, he’d learned that Sebastian would come to him when it was time to talk about what was bothering him. . Sebastian’s main concern the whole time had been coming home. Blaine didn’t think he’d have gone back to Ohio at all if it weren’t for how much he loved his mom..

It really was probably for the best that Blaine stayed in New York. He hadn’t wanted to mention it to Sebastian and remind him of what time of year it was even though Seb knew, he had shown that he knew in the way he kept lingering on Blaine face with concern when they said their farewells at the airport, that and the subtle check ins on that day as well let Blaine know that Seb was thinking about it- Sebastian had went through a hell all those years ago, too. Different, but just as damaging. Yet Blaine still couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud to his boyfriend. Not only was two days ago the anniversary of that last time Blaine felt happiness as a teen, but it was the date he lost everything good in his life. He wasn't sure how he’d handle living that day over while trying to win Thomas Smythe over.

December 28, a date burned into his brain for the rest of his life, had always loomed and haunted like a ghost. This year wasn’t any different except that he was free now. He could spend it how he liked and he spent the five year anniversary of his parents deaths quietly on facetime with Cooper. He was in California still- hadn’t gone home to visit their graves, neither of them had in years. Something about the eerie way the snow dusted their stones was far too pretty of a picture for all the tragedy and grief it left them so it was best they didn’t go. The image of their lonely, cold graves with their names forever etched in gray still fills him with a sorrow he knew he’d never get over. He’d miss the two of them forever and nothing would ever fix that. Not his happiness with Sebastian, not being free of Kurt. Nothing- not even time.

Neither he or Coop really knew how to talk to each other anymore yet neither of them were quite willing to just hang up. They’d shared old pictures they each had saved, digital and physical and sniffled and laughed a little bit over them and Blaine was okay with that until they got to the ones that were from that last Christmas they were together as a family- right there in the last photo of the bunch was one of his mother covering her smile as Blaine opened up his guitar while his dad looked on with what must have been pride. It was his last ever gift from them and the very guitar that Kurt still had his claws in. Blaine hadn't seen it since he’d been brave enough to leave, and probably never would again. Kurt had hidden it away or really had sold it off in a gesture of cruelty that only he could produce. One last thing to hold over Blaine. That man managed to keep his nails dug into Blaine somehow and suddenly he didn’t want to look anymore and what was first cathartic turned sour and when they finally did hang up Blaine let himself pull Soot into his arms and cry over them.

He cried and at first it was marred by memories of Kurt’s mocking, nightmare blue eyes but then he let himself really remember his parents- his beautiful, sweet mother with her gentle hands and his serious but sometimes very silly dad and he cried harder than he had in years for them- full gulping sobs. It felt almost good to freely mourn them without Kurt interfering and making him feel small about his feelings. He cried all the time, he knew that and he was often ashamed over how sensitive he was, but his cat purred against his face and it felt right and that was something Kurt couldn’t take away anymore.

He spent the rest of that day keeping himself busy- he’d talked with Seb on the phone and hearing him say I love you over the speaker over 500 miles away made him feel giddy. He’d exchanged some ridiculous yet funny messages that made him actually laugh out loud with Sam and cleaned his whole apartment. He’d even let Soot dip her paws in the powdery snow that had fallen on the windowsill that day. She seemed to enjoy herself but soon fell asleep burrowed in Blaine’s sweater, cold paws pressed against his chest…

But now, two days later, he really just wanted to kiss his boyfriend's hands and face and watch something stupid on the television. Wanted to celebrate their Christmas and New Year’s with him the same way they’d celebrated Blaine’s twenty-second birthday in October- in his apartment, just the two of them pressed together and giggling like they were all that mattered.

He sighed and reached for the phone, the time read 7:36 p.m. and it was dark out. He groaned in annoyance with himself as he pulled Seb’s name up because of course he couldn’t stop himself. Just one little call to keep the other man busy while he waited and then maybe he’d walk down and get himself some dinner from the corner store before the snow really took off and then he’d settle down on the couch to work on his advanced music theory and composition work. Classes started back up soon after all. To his surprise Sebastian’s beautiful, mischievous face was already flashing at him in an incoming call before he could press the proper buttons to call him. He almost declined the call in his haste to answer, maybe he’d make it back in time for tomorrow night after all.

“Let me guess, they’re delaying you until next week?” Blaine meant it as a joke but his heart sort of sank at the prospect.

Sebastian’s POV:

If it weren’t for his mother, Sebastian wouldn’t go home for the Holidays. He wasn’t much for the BER months and all of the family oriented activities everybody felt guilted into attending. Ever the realest, he knew that the chill in the air towards the end of September meant that wine soaked arguments and gift receipts were around the corner. For him, it wasn’t all warm scarves and the scent of cinnamon, laughing with family like a perfect commercial. Sebastian didn’t need gifts or the judgemental looks in his aunts and uncles faces. But, he did need his mother and she loved to decorate and celebrate and show off her home. So, every Christmas he showed up and tried his best but always seemed to fail somehow. Even if she said she loved him and not to mind what the other Smythe family members thought, he could still see how tired his mother was, the sad tilt of her red lips when he snapped back or poured another cup.

This year was going to be his first sober Christmas in a long time. He hoped that he could keep it together without Blaine’s gentle golden gaze. He knew that Blaine was a phone call away and the other man had already encouraged him to reach out if he needed to.

Sebastian had wanted B to join him on the trip. In the back of his mind he had known that the answer would be no. Ohio was complicated, he understood that. His own father was still quite cold about Sebastian and Blaine reconnecting. He knew his mother would welcome his boyfriend in with open arms but that wouldn’t stop his aunts from gossiping or thaw his father’s frosty demeanor. This time of year was hard for both of them but even more so for Blaine. The anniversary of his parent’s deaths was only a few days after Christmas. The yuletide season was marred for his boy and all he wanted to do was hide under an old quilt with him until New Years Day.

The days of winter break passed by as the snow fell. Sebastian faked his way through dinners and spoke on the phone with B on the phone as much as possible. His mornings were spent with his mother over french press coffee and cigarettes. These were his favorite moments anytime he came back home. The two of them in her clean kitchen lit up by the winter sun. The scent of her familiar lavender soap mixed with the rich tang of tobacco and her red lipstick print on her porcelain mug brought him comfort. He silently wished he could bottle up all of the goodness these little things she did brought to him. Sebastian could take the bottle back to New York and keep it just for himself.

The nights in his childhood bedroom felt cold and lonely. It almost felt like he was a teenager again, wrapped up in his dark green sheets, dreaming of Blaine, willing him there. They would talk on the phone late at night, Seb’s voice hushed. ‘Just like old times.’ Blaine had joked. He would tell him about how his aunts got messy wine drunk, about the 5 identical sweaters he was gifted by various family members, and how much he missed him, Soot, and his tiny apartment. Sebastian lamented about how he didn’t want to miss New Years but the midwestern weather just wouldn’t give.

He felt like he had jinxed himself. There he was, sat in an airport by his lonesome. He was going to miss their day. Sebastian felt agitated as he stood at a large window and watched the wind whip snowflakes across the tarmac. B had assured him that everything would be okay and they could still celebrate together.

Sebastian chewed on his nails and pondered his options. He felt like he'd go crazy stuck in this airport with crying babies and the temptation of the lounge he had access to. He had to get out of there. He’d rent a car. Yeah, he’d just rent a fucking car. He grew up in midwestern winters, he’d driven in them before. He could do it.

Blaine picked up and made a joke. Seb chuckled and cradled the phone between his shoulder and ear as he signed the paperwork for the car. “Actually, No. I’m going to rent a car. Can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner. I’ll be there before you know it and we can watch the ball drop together.”

The other side of the line was quiet.

“B?”

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine almost lost his hold on his phone as his breath hitched and caught in his throat. It was all he could do to let it back out again.

Breathe in and back out again, Blaine.

Come on- count to ten. You’ve got this, it’s okay. He’s still safe.

One, two, three…

It had taken Blaine a moment to really hear what Sebastian was saying to him. He could hear the triumph and annoyance with himself and the hint of relief in his boyfriend's voice but none of it really registered right away. All Blaine could focus on was that Sebastian wanted to rent a car and that meant he was going to drive. Blaine’s eyes blurred white and then a blue black that buzzed in his head as he watched the fat snowflakes slip down his city window leaving streaks like tear tracks down mourning cheeks. Was he crying too? He reached up and touched his face and was surprised to feel that his cheeks were dry. He felt seventeen all over again stuck in a never ending loop that started five years ago. He felt real fear for Sebastian’s life creep down his body for the second time since August.

All he could hear now was Cooper struggling to tell him the worst news- There was ice on the r-road. God, they’re gone, Blaine. I-I don’t know how else to say it. Mom and dad are gone… Who would think to call Blaine if something happened to Sebastian? Would he be forgotten? Or would he have to listen to Sabine Smythe heartbroken and struggling to tell him like his brother had? He had to force himself to speak, though his voice felt like it was stuck in his throat, his tongue felt heavy and his fingers felt numb as they regained their grip on his phone.

“Baby- please don’t.”

He was all too aware that Sebastian, or anyone else that he cared about could be ripped away from him at any given moment, he’d been through it and knew in his heart that it could happen again and probably would- but the thought of Sebastian out there on the road on a night like this for the next nine or so hours was enough to send the mental progress he’d done over the last year into regression.

“I know how hard it is for you to be idle and how much you hate not having control of what goes on around you. I know that you’re probably overwhelmed and anxious and that’s not a good place for you to be in, I know, okay? But I’m asking you not to do this.”

His heart felt ready to break all over again. His thoughts ran wild with unwanted scenarios that all ended with Sebastian dead- his beautiful, mischievous face frozen and reduced to just a picture in someone’s old newspaper. Gone. He licked his too dry lips and pushed on, afraid that if he stopped talking that it’d already be too late. He tried to keep his voice as steady and clear as could given his emotions,

“I hate asking this of you because I know you’re struggling to be still right now. I know you want to be here and not stuck there, trust me, I want you here too, but you have to stay there for now, okay? I’m sure they’ll reinstate your flight soon. I’ll stay up and keep you busy all night. I know you brought a notebook with you so you could write or something to pass time, too. Between the two of us we can keep your mind occupied.”

At this point he felt like a drowning man grasping at whatever he could to keep himself afloat. His voice was starting to break and crack while he stumbled to put into words how desperately he needed Sebastian to understand what he was feeling. He was fighting panic and it looked like he might lose.

“I know it’s not fair of me to beg, but I fucking can’t, Seb. I- I can’t go through another phone call like t-that. It would destroy me… I never properly healed from before and-I just... Please don’t drive. I need you to promise me you won’t, I need to hear it. P-please. I’ll do anything.”

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian felt embarrassed. Heat crept up his neck and cheeks and his stomach turned uncomfortably. He had been so focused on getting back to New York that he hadn’t really considered how Blaine would feel about the situation. It all suddenly felt so obvious as the other man’s broken voice begged him not to drive.

“Okay, okay.” Sebastian hoped his tone sounded calming. He picked up the rental contract he had just signed and tore it in half before walking away from the kiosk. The clerk looked confused but he just shrugged and turned to find somewhere to sit.

“I feel horrible and so fucking stupid, B. I should have known better. God.”

He listened to his boyfriend speak and rubbed his forehead. There was nowhere quiet to sit. Blaine was right. It was going to be hard for him to stay put but, he wasn’t going to betray him. He sat down on a hard plastic chair and pulled his luggage up onto the free space next to him.

“I won’t drive, I promise. I won’t do that to you and I appreciate the offer to stay up with me but you need sleep. I’m not going to make you stay awake just because I’m bored or anxious or whatever. I can like, play a game on my phone or something.” Seb cradled the phone against his shoulder and picked at his nails. B knew him well, he was struggling to chill out. “I really am sorry. I don’t know why I thought this would be okay.”

They stayed on the phone for a bit and Sebastian tried to focus but he heard somebody near him mention a hotel. “I wish I could stay at a hotel. I don’t think anything is close enough to get there safely. Guess I’ll just have to buy a fucking Monster or something from a vending machine. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep anyway but I’m afraid I won’t be alert, you know?” Seb wanted to be selfish and keep the other man awake with him, that would be the easiest way to quell the anxiety coursing through him. “I should let you get some sleep. Soot is probably annoyed that you’re still awake.”

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine let out a slow breath as the thick ball of anxiety slowly tried to unfurl in his gut only for it to be replaced by a guilt that he remembered far too well. Guilt for having inconvenienced someone else. Rationally he knew Sebastian wasn’t angry at him for asking him to stay put but the irrational part of his brain, the one part that Kurt had damaged with his huffs of annoyance and sharp claws anytime Blaine felt any emotion other than faux happiness, told him that he was wrong for asking. He wasn’t though because this is what people in healthy relationships did, they talked to each other and helped each other through the difficult things. He had to take another breath and press his forehead to the cold window of his apartment before he could speak again.

“Please don’t feel bad, you have done nothing wrong and you are not stupid, Seb. I’m not faulting you for not realizing how it would affect me. You’re not responsible for my triggers. I am. I just…” He sniffled but managed to keep his emotions in check, breathing his way through it like he was taught and willing his guilt to ebb away because he knew Sebastian loved him and that he wasn’t cross with him for this, sure, he may be anxious but it wasn’t because of Blaine.

“Imagining you driving right now- I just can’t. I know I can’t keep you safe in a bubble and I’m not asking for that, I just- this month? This time of year…I-” He struggled with himself to find words, still stupidly worried he’d somehow messed up before settling on the simplest thing,,

“Thank you for understanding, and I’m sorry, I’ll make it up to you, okay? I promise.”

Blaine shook his head as he listened to Sebastian try and reason away why he couldn't keep Blaine on the phone and allowed himself to settle down on his little couch, his feet tucked up under him. He made the soft clicking noise with this tongue that sure enough got his fuzzy little feline to hop up on his lap, she nuzzled into the phone like she just knew her papa was on the other line.

“Please, Seb, you don’t need to apologize, it’s sweet that you wanted to get here so fast, and a normal person would have embraced your gesture, but I’m not, well- you know, normal. But, I have a feeling that you’ll be in my arms by tomorrow night and we’ll be swaying together on my roof listening to the bang of pots and pans, kissing the New Year into existence.”

He felt the beginnings of a tentative grin trying tug on the corners of his lips in anticipation, wanting nothing more than to hold his boyfriend to his chest and kiss the worry and anxiety out of his faraway voice. He let himself take a deep breath, and finally the guilt was slowly replaced with hope and want. He pressed further into the couch, making himself comfortable with Soot curled up on his shoulder, surely curious about why her dad’s emotions were all over the place.

“Sebastian, I’m not hanging up, not a damn chance.” His voice was gentle as he tried his best not to laugh at the thought of letting Seb go for the night, the thought felt absurd to him, “Soot is actually worried about you and wants to see your face, put your earphones in and facetime us so she can see that you’re safe and then you can tell us about something good that’s happened over the last few days and then something you’re looking forward to when you get here.. We’ll be up as long as you need us. Besides, I don’t need to sleep nearly as much as I need to see your face right now.”

Sebastian’s POV:

“Since Soot is asking so nicely...”

Sebastian tried to pay it casual but he could feel the grin overtake his face because how the fuck was Blaine still so sweet after his mess-up? He obviously wanted to see Blaine’s face, too. More than anything. He knew the joke would make the other man smile. He slipped in his Airpods and accepted the facetime option. He was tucked away in a somewhat quiet corner and the two of them kept each other busy until the time blurred. At around 5:05 a.m. they announced that the flight would board at 6:30 AM. The wind had died down and conditions were safe. A surge of relief flooded through him, he was so ready to be back in the city, back with Blaine.

Sebastian had pretty much slept the entire plane ride with little interruption. His body felt exhausted but his mind was elated to be that much closer to his favorite everything- his safe spot.. Nothing exceptional happened until he was bounding up the stairs to his boyfriend’s apartment. It was only about 2 in the afternoon and they would have the whole of New Year’s evening and day together. As soon as Blaine opened the door they were in each other’s arms, he wasn’t sure who reached for the other first. His exhaustion seemed to almost melt away as he felt B’s hands rub the small of his back, as he felt the soft whip of Soot’s skinny tail rub against his shin in her own special greeting. He was back with Blaine.

He was home.

/tbc.

(Part two of two will be posted in the next couple of months. We’ll see you soon!)

#seb #seblaine #seblaine canon divergence #Para: First Fall of Snow #twoblueheartslocked #colorsicantsee #para #seblaine para

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