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tazwren · 4 years ago

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My two cents on the devolution of fandom spaces...

As a former mod of a fandom space and a woman of colour, I do not feel safe.

Seeing what has been done to so many in this fandom, by a particular group of white American women, in the name of moral policing is both abhorrent and demoralising. As it also is to repeatedly see the same narrative being shoved at everyone as the gospel truth.

A narrative that very conveniently either becomes about fic or has nothing to do with fic, depending on how people want to swing things. A narrative that will accuse a person of Jewish heritage of anti-Semitism, a person of colour of racism, a practising Muslim of being an Islamaphobe. A narrative that will define for you and me and all of us comprising this myriad of multitudes in the world what generational or personal trauma includes and what induces the same.

Those of you who know me, know what I’ve been dealing with the past few days & why I haven’t spoken up before now. Before I logged out a couple days ago, I saw what looked like more of the usual nonsense by the same group of people I’ve kept my distance from once their true colours were revealed. What I didn’t expect is that they would think themselves so above the norms of human decency and accountability that they would go after not one but two women of colour this time around in their rabidity. And many others who spoke up, as it turns out.

It hurts to see what these women, that I know of, have had to endure and to see the passivity of the community, save for a few voices, in sitting back and letting the circus rampage through town. It hurt when I was at the receiving end of it and it hurts now.

Why? Because it shows me a microcosm of the world that I don’t really relate to, that makes no sense to me with the values I was brought up with, and which reduces basic human decency to a commodity to be trampled upon and for you to be seen as weak for having. Because people who willingly laud you for your art / writing / wit, meet you with effusive claims of love and affection and friendship, who have no qualms in taking your help when it suits them, will throw you under the bus and let the wolves ravage you when it doesn't.

Before I get into that, let me talk a little bit about what has transpired over the past few days to a week, and what has been systemically taking place over perhaps the past year in this fandom.

One thing is that everyone who makes a statement about anything suddenly has people in their mentions demanding they show what gives them the right to hold that particular opinion. A critical thing people forget about fandom is that it is a place where people hide their identity for a variety of reasons, all valid, and this approach to fiction and conversations where everyone has to reveal every part of their past and identity as a means of establishing their "credentials" in order to present their views comes in direct contradiction with how fandoms operate. It violates people's rights to privacy.

The other is that there has been an increase in the voices that purportedly stand up to “speak for” the marginalised, the abused, those discriminated against and those who belong to minorities who “need to be protected / kept safe”. An admirable sentiment, to be sure. If it weren’t for the fact that none of these groups of people needed saving, speaking for or the protection of this particular group of voices.

Voices who only want to define and use these people as "model victims" to hurt other white women and establish their supremacy over both them and other POC. Voices that will present their "truth" as they see fit and sans context or present you with screenshots of snippets of conversations held in supposedly secure spaces that they have no qualms in violating in the interest of the "greater good" and claim offense / silencing if the misdemeanour is pointed out or action is taken against them, Voices that will conveniently categorize you as a "token POC" or "white adjacent" when you do not support or align with their narrative. Voices that belong to a predominantly white American group of women, whose real agenda, as is evidenced by their modus operandi, has nothing to do with real altruism or a drive for justice or indeed to right wrongs.

No, their agenda is purely power.

To hold sway over groups of followers, to shepherd them as though they are sheep who cannot think for themselves, and to set themselves up as white saviours who call out those who step out of line, or are deemed to be problematic and toxic and unsafe. To be the owners of the only "safe spaces" in fandom and to drive other groups and spaces to be boycotted or worse.

Now, I've long wondered, who indeed are these women to decide that for anyone? In a world comprising multiple cultures, religions, groups, subgroups, genders and which contains multitudes, who are these women and what gives them the right to foist their puritanical standards on everyone, very conveniently disguised as concern for the moral well being of everyone and the consumption, of all things, of fiction?

Certainly, there are many things in this world that people regard with justifiably equal dislike / horror / sadness. At the same time, there is much that is not shared, that is particular to a culture and to a person’s background. There is a multitude of perspectives that make the whole. And the white women of the United States of America have not cornered the market on what those are, or indeed even own any curatorship or censorship of the same. They cannot, because each person’s culture and background and joy and trauma is their own, as are their ways of dealing with it all.

That being said, let’s talk about their pack behaviour and the devolution I’ve witnessed on social media as basic human decency is bartered for clout.

I’m all for standing up for someone who doesn’t have a voice or a platform, or maybe afraid of repercussions to voice dissent. I’m all for being there for our fellow human beings as they face struggles of often unconscionable and unfathomable proportions. I’m all for holding people accountable for their negative behaviours as they impact the larger community.

What I am unequivocally NOT for is treating such situations as an opportunity to preach, to virtue-signal, to shame and to put on blast the alleged wrong-doers. I say alleged because that’s what most accusations are on these platforms—allegations to do with things that disturb our sense of balance or make us wrinkle our noses or that we deem bad, and therefore make the accused deserving of the full force of the community’s misbehaviour and censure.

I ask you if you were found guilty of a crime in real life—you know, the one away from your phones and keyboards—would you not have an opportunity to retain a lawyer, to plead your case in a court of law, to acquit yourself? Or, if found guilty, would you not have the opportunity for correction and rehabilitation? Yes, you say? (If you say no, then that explains the spate of state-perpetuated injustices across the USA, but that is a different matter).

Why then are people treated so abhorrently in this court of public opinion? What gives you, me, any one of us the right to judge people so vilely and with a metaphorical gun to their heads? What gives anyone the right to say you better agree with everything I say, retract everything you said and grovel for it or we will eviscerate you in public, shame you, force you to change or delete the content that offends us and still ostracise you and in some cases even threaten you with bodily harm or death, or doxx you?

Why is there no grace in how people are approached or dealt with? Whatever happened to allowing people to learn from their mistakes, where applicable, or hearing them out and giving them a chance to explain their side of something we may not fully understand?

Why is there no accountability for such behaviour on the part of the accusers?

What makes the rest of you sit back and allow this to happen? What makes you think this is in any shape or form okay to watch? Today, it is a virtual stranger at the receiving end, one you can distance yourself from quite conveniently saying Oh, she just mods a group I am in, or I only read their fics a couple times or I only followed them for their art or jokes or whatever flavour of excuse you choose. Tomorrow, it will be one of your own - or it may very well be you. And you'd better hope there's someone left to speak up for you.

The irony is you will have allowed it to happen by letting the wolf in the fold. By letting these white women manipulate you, and the community you claim to be a part of, so unapologetically, so maliciously and so unashamedly that before you can do anything about it the cancer has taken hold.

If this was happening in the world outside of social media, they would have to follow due process, to present real evidence based on facts (not based on emotions, rumours or perceptions) and would have to allow the person they are accusing to present a counter-argument, to defend themselves or be defended. Failure to do so is a miscarriage of justice and, depending on whether this is a professional or legal proceeding, they would either seriously risk their jobs or have the case thrown out of court. If not face action themselves for attempting to derail the process of justice.

Why then are they permitted to range so freely through the landscape of fandom, snarling and biting at who they please, or who displeases them?

I have no shame in saying I was at the receiving end of their behaviour for defending a friend they put on blast and I will tell you right here and now, I am a woman of colour who feels unsafe and attacked by these so-called self-appointed white saviours of your social media experience, these so-called upholders of the common morality—whatever that means—who will fight for you the evils of problematic and toxic writers who dare to have an opinion not aligned with theirs and who do not bow to their clout. Not that they care, so long as they can ignore this fact since it doesn’t fit their narrative. So long as they can ignore what has just been done to so many people in the name of cleansing the fandom.

If any one of these women were truly interested in alleviating the troubles and pains of the discriminated, the marginalized, the trauma-affected, I invite them to please come roll their sleeves up and help in the multitudes of troubles that wrack this world, not just in the backyards of their minds. My country is amidst a struggle for the basics of human life in this horrific pandemic and, prior to that, for basic constitutional rights for religious minorities. Do not patronize me and lecture me on trauma and racism and discrimination. Do not marginalise me in your attempt to pontificate and set your pearl-clutching puritanical selves above the rest, or assuage your white guilt.

A largely American audience or fanbase in this fandom is purely a function of access and interest—other cultures have vast followings for things you couldn't begin to fathom—and it doesn't mean you are entitled in any shape or form to be spokespeople for the rest of the world. We have no interest in being colonized again by white oppressors.

If you disagree with what I have said, I congratulate you on being a part of their coterie and wish you much joy in being the sheep in their fold. Kindly unfollow or block me on the way off of this post.

#fandom #fandom culture #bullying #gaslighting #gatekeeping #minorities #people of colour #real talk #toxic people #problematic behaviour #problematic authors #problematic fiction #fanfic #reylo #reylo fanfic book club #reylo fic recs #trauma #safety #accountability

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religioused · 4 years ago

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Where Did My Plowshares Go?

Holy Saturday

by Gary Simpson

Scriptures:

Psalm 31:1-4 The Message

I run to you, GOD; I run for dear life. Don’t let me down! Take me seriously this time! Get down on my level and listen, and please—no procrastination! Your granite cave a hiding place, your high cliff nest a place of safety.

3-5 You’re my cave to hide in, my cliff to climb. Be my safe leader, be my true mountain guide. Free me from hidden traps; I want to hide in you. I’ve put my life in your hands. You won’t drop me, you’ll never let me down.

John 19:38-42 The Message

After all this, Joseph of Arimathea (he was a disciple of Jesus, but secretly, because he was intimidated by the Jews) petitioned Pilate to take the body of Jesus. Pilate gave permission. So Joseph came and took the body.

39-42 Nicodemus, who had first come to Jesus at night, came now in broad daylight carrying a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about seventy-five pounds. They took Jesus’ body and, following the Jewish burial custom, wrapped it in linen with the spices. There was a garden near the place he was crucified, and in the garden a new tomb in which no one had yet been placed. So, because it was Sabbath preparation for the Jews and the tomb was convenient, they placed Jesus in it.

1 Peter 4:1 and 6 (ESV)

Since therefore Christ suffered in the flesh, arm yourselves with the same way of thinking, for whoever has suffered in the flesh has ceased from sin,

6 For this is why the gospel was preached even to those who are dead, that though judged in the flesh the way people are, they might live in the spirit the way God does.

Reflection:

Holy Saturday is the link between Good Friday and Easter Sunday. Today is a vigil pause between the cross and the resurrection.(1) Holy Saturday is that "in between time." (2) As much as we may wish that we could ignore the fact that we are caught in-between, we cannot ignore the in-between periods of our lives. We are not given the privilege of skipping Holy Saturday in our lives.(3) Our province and our country are stuck in Holy Saturday. The Coronavirus pandemic struck. Many businesses closed temporarily, some to never open again. At times early in the pandemic, things felt unnatural – just way too quiet. And the price of oil plummeted. We are still waiting for the normal to return. Spiritually, we caught in a holding zone. The crucifixion is passed, but the full glory of the resurrection is not here yet.(4) Holy Saturday 2021, for some of us, feels like over a year of Holy Saturdays. The Coronavirus lockdown is a brutally long, anxious, and vulnerable time.

Even children have Holy Saturday moments. When I was a kid, there were times when my punishment was to sit quietly on a kitchen chair. No talking was allowed. I could sit in the chair, okay, but no talking was rough. The three to five minutes timeouts felt like an eternity. I think my silent timeouts might have been more challenging for my mother than they were for me because I just could not keep quiet.

Canada is still sitting on the kitchen chair - over a year later. McDougall United Church is sitting on the chair for a second Easter. The Holy Saturday moments in life feel like they are an eternity long. During the pandemic, the Holy Saturday moments for children are especially challenging. Many children had to take courses online and were cut off from their friends and classmates for weeks, even months. Children learning at home have to try to navigate a dual relationship with their parents, where their parents might be functioning both in both a teacher's role and in a parent's role. And a special place dedicated to learning, school, no longer exists. Learning takes place in the home, the same place where children live and play. As with my time-out moments, the shift to learning at home can be difficult for parents too. Being plunged into a quasi-teaching role with almost no time to shift gears is difficult.

Jesus is gone – dead and buried. The disciples lost their teacher and friend, Jesus' family lost a son and a brother. The region of Palestine lost a dynamic itinerant rabbi. Jesus was executed for being a potential source of discontent against the government and the religious leadership, which were closely related. Jesus' disciples and family were deep in shock, possibly dealing with anger and fear. They may feel very vulnerable. What if someone falsely accuses them, just like they falsely accused Jesus? When you are hiding, hoping nobody is thinking of you or coming for you, time is painfully slow. Some people are experiencing are feeling afraid and vulnerable with our COVID Holy Saturday.

Hans Steiner, of Stanford University indicates that the social isolation caused by the pandemic Conflicts with our need to "social interventions" that help us "resolve anger" when we believe that we are "at the mercy of injustice and uncertainty." (5) Tensions seem to be high during the pandemic. There are many possible reasons – uncertainty, danger, children's education bouncing between school and home, work bouncing back and forth between office and home, job uncertainty, business closures, and extreme incidents of injustice. We are experiencing loss of loved ones, loss of lifestyle, loss of routines, loss of dreams, and financial loss. David Rosemarie, assistant professor in the Harvard Medical School's Department of Psychiatry, says he is seeing an increase in levels of anger in his practice.(6) There are times when anxiety and depression can look like anger.(7) David Rosemarie believes the anger over masks is related to fear over civil rights being taken away. He believes that fear is due to fear of the virus. Rosemarie observes, "When we're aggressive, we don't have to show our vulnerability to other people." (8)

You might be thinking, "Are there any scientific studies about COVID restrictions contributing to anger. In the United Kingdom, a study was conducted of over 2,200 participants aged 16–75 years. The study, published in the Journal of the Royal Society of Medicine, found that 56% of the participants reported "having had arguments, feeling angry or fallen out with others because of COVID- 19." The researchers concluded that COVID-19 restrictions cause "considerable strain." (9) If you are feeling anxious and angry, and you think COVID restrictions might be impacting your behavior, you are not alone.

There are many explanations as to what 1 Peter Chapter 4 means. I am not going to discuss the complex range of opinions. There might not be a highly definitive meaning for 1 Peter Chapter 4.(10) A few commentators consider the passage to be a mysterious encounter Jesus had with the dead, after Jesus' death.(11) 1 Peter Chapter 4 can be seen as a symbolic representation of the depth of God's love and grace. Holy Saturday could be the time when Jesus brought the Gospel of saving grace to all of the dead from the preceding ages. Verses 5-6 could refer to the Gospel going to "all the dead." The epistle of 1 Peter seems to be about Christ descending to the "place of the dead" to preach to the dead.(12) I tend to believe that descending into the depth of hell symbolizes the fact that there is no mistake, no sin that God cannot forgive, that nobody is left out of the realm of God's grace. The key takeaway is that God is just. Judgment is fair, because even those who died before Jesus' ministry on the cross hear the good news.(13)

Jonathan Turtle, an Anglican priest, describes Jesus as descending into the grave and "taking Adam and Eve by the hand," and leading them out of the grave, "pulling them up out of the grave." Rowan Williams, when he was the Archbishop of Canterbury, observes that this was not the youthful Adam and Eve.(14) Like Rowan Williams, I invite you to picture the old Adam and Eve. I am going to give you a moment to picture Adam and Eve. I see them as frail, with thin gray hair, arthritic hands, stooped shoulders, and eyes grown dim with age. I can almost picture them weighed down with a lifetime of guilt and shame. Then, I can visualize a change, as the fear of meeting God, and as a lifetime of guilt and shame, melts away in the presence of the Christ.

Middle Church tweeted, "Too many Christians act as if the Bible asks us to beat plowshares into swords." (15) Sadly, it is not just Christians who act like the Bible says we should beat our plowshares into swords. At a time fear is causing some tense, anxious, and fearful people to beat their emotional plowshares into swords, and they are living out an angry, grace challenged form of religion.

Prayer:

Companion God, in our Holy Saturday season, we give you our offering – the broken dreams, uncertainty, sense of oppression, anger, anxiety, fear, and depression. These things are too much for us. Beat the swords of those emotions into plowshares and use the plowshares to help plant a garden of healing. Amen.

Notes

(1)Jonathan Turtle. “A Sermon for Holy Saturday.” 26 March 2016, 18 March 2021. The Church of St, Mary and St. Martha. <https://stmaryandstmartha.org/a-sermon-for-holy-saturday/>.

(2)Michael K. Marsh. “A Sermon for Holy Saturday, Matthew 27:57-66.” Interrupting the Silence. <interruptingthesilence.com/2011/04/23/a-reflection-on-holy-saturday-matthew-2757-66/amp/>.

(3)Marsh <interruptingthesilence.com/2011/04/23/a-reflection-on-holy-saturday-matthew-2757-66/amp/>.

(4)Marsh <interruptingthesilence.com/2011/04/23/a-reflection-on-holy-saturday-matthew-2757-66/amp/>.

(5)Hans Steiner. “COVID-19 Q&A: Dr. Hans Steiner on Anger and Aggression.” Sanford University, Department of Psychiatry and Behavioral Sciences. n.d., 23 March 2021. <https:med.stanford.edu/psychiatry/about/covid19/anger.html>.

(6)Alvin Powell. “Soothing Advice for a Mad America.” The Harvard Gazette. 14 August 2020, 23 March 2021. <https://news.harvard.edu/gazette/story/2020/08/a-closer-look-at-americas-pandemic-fueled-anger/>.

(7)Powell (2020) <https://news.harvard.edu/gazette/story/2020/08/a-closer-look-at-americas-pandemic-fueled-anger/>.

(8)Powell (2020) <https://news.harvard.edu/gazette/story/2020/08/a-closer-look-at-americas-pandemic-fueled-anger/>.

(9)Louise E Smith, et. al. “Anger and Confrontation During the COVID-19 Pandemic: a National Cross-Sectional Survey in the UK.” Journal of the Royal Society of Medicine; 2021, Vol. 114(2) 77. <https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/pdf/10.1177/0141076820962068>.

(10)William Barclay. The Daily Study Bible: The Letters of James and Peter. Revised Ed. (Burlington, Ontario: G.R. Welch, 1976), 248.

(11)Christian Community Bible. (Madrid: San Pablo International, 1988), N.T., 463.

(12)Barclay (1976), 248.

(13)Bruce B. Barton, et. al., eds. Life Application Study Bible. Second Ed. (Wheaton, Illinois: Tyndale House Pub., 2004), 2134.

(14)Turtle (2016) <https://stmaryandstmartha.org/a-sermon-for-holy-saturday/>.

(15)“Middle Church.” Twitter @middlechurch. 23 March 2021, 23 March 2021.

<https://twitter.com/middlechurch/status/1374343151805169667?s=21>.

#Easter #Holy Saturday #Sermon #Reflection #Christian #Progressive Christian #Progressive Christianity #Good Friday

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bourbonboredom · 4 years ago

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A Reason To Believe Chapter 12

Being an undercover officer is a perilous job and Flip Zimmerman knows this far too well. He keeps his romantic life limited to one-night stands, never letting anyone get too close. That all starts to change when he meets a vivacious Jewish woman named Elle just as he’s about to take on a seriously dangerous undercover job; infiltrating the KKK. Elle and his undercover work make him question things he’d never thought to before and challenge him to see the world, and himself, in a whole new light.

A Flip x OC Fic

Word Count: 3,817

Warnings: slurs, violence

I see the bad moon a-rising

I see trouble on the way

I see earthquakes and lightnin'

I see bad times today

(x)

Flip had known David Duke was going to come to town, it’s not like this was a new surprise. He was given weeks to prepare, spent time with the organization getting everything in place. He should feel ready. But he didn’t.

Then the real Ron Stallworth was put on escort duty for Duke and he really didn’t feel ready for all this. What was the chief thinking? Not only was he putting a black officer in charge of the most prominent white supremacist in America, Ron was also the man that had been speaking on the phone with him for months.

The stress was starting to get to him. He was constantly working scenarios out in his head, every little situation that could go possibly wrong, and what he could do to fix it if it happened. In theory it was once day, just a few hours spent at a steakhouse. They would get through it one way or another. But he couldn’t help but feel this whole operation was about to be a disaster.

“Flip?” Elle’s voice called to him.

He blinked his eyes a few times and he came back to reality. He was sitting in Elle’s living room with her on the sofa, the two of them sharing Chinese food he’d brought over. It was the night before the big day.

“You spaced out there for a minute, everything okay?” She asked.

“Yeah, sorry. Just thinking about work,” He rubbed his face with his hand, trying to wake himself back up.

“You’ve been really stressed out lately, is that because of work too?”

“Yeah, it’s—” He stopped himself.

“Confidential, I know,” She finished his words. “But I’m still worried. How much longer do you think this case is?”

“Could be years, could be tomorrow. I really can’t say,” He sighed.

Part of him wanted this to be over. He was mentally exhausted from dealing with the klan day in and day out. But he know this was important, that they needed to be taken down. He just hoped it could be done smoothly. He suddenly felt her fingers intertwine with his.

“You’re going to get through this,” She assured him. “You’re gonna do what you need to do, and I’ll be by your side through it no matter how long it takes,”

He looked at her, taking in the resolution on her face. She believed in him, in his ability to see this through. This woman knew who he was undercover with, had even accidentally met some of the targets, and was still supportive of him. He had other girlfriends in the past tell him they supported him, but this time he felt like he could really believe it. He gave her hand a light squeeze and nodded at her.

“I’m going to get through this,”

_______

"You know something about that, don't you Flip?"

Blood rushed in his ears, for a second the world seemed to stop. Felix just called him by his name, his real name. He knew, how did he know? Is he about to be exposed to the entire organization without any backup? Ron wasn't in the room, he must have left for somewhere. Fuck this was about to be a worst case scenario.

He didn't remember the guy being introduced to him. Was it another undercover case? Army? Did he arrest him? Fuck, why can't he remember? His mouth was on autopilot, denying and covering the best he could.

Suddenly a waiter approached the table, stopping them all.

"Felix Kendrickson, you have a call,"

He stood up from the table, leaning over to Flip before he left.

"We'll talk about this later, Flip," He spat out before leaving.

The majority of the table hadn't noticed the interaction, but those who did took turns glancing in his direction. He pretended not to notice, not saying anything as he silently plotted his next step. Maybe he could leave now? Excuse himself before he's exposed? He took a sip of wine to calm his nerves. He wasn't going to abandon the case, he could talk his way out of this.

Felix came back into the room but didn't even acknowledge Flip. He gave a curt nod and Ivanhoe and the mystery man got up and followed him out without another word.

Something has to be going on. With all their talk to explosions and revolution, whatever they were up to it couldn't be good. He had to follow them.

"Why was he calling you flip?" Duke's voice came from his right side. That's right, he still had to keep his cover.

"We were in prison together, it was an old joke. I think he just violated his parole though," Prison, he put the guy in prison. He remembered now.

He got up and calmly walked out of the room. As soon as the door closed he took off into a sprint, trying to see where the men had gone off to. He was near the entrance when he heard a car engine start. He looked out a window to see Felix driving a car out of the lot and down the road. He followed the car at a distance, trying to keep from being seen.

He lost their car at a red light, the vehicle disappearing around a corner as a line of cars passes in front of him, preventing him from moving forward. Behind him were more cars so backing up isn't an option either. He brings a fist down on his steering wheel, grunting in frustration.

There was no police scanner in his car, just his gun under his seat and his badge hidden in his glove box. He couldn't listen to what was going on, or if Ron had made any calls in to the network. He was going to have to wing it.

As soon as the light turned green, he gunned it. A straggler from the recent red light almost T-boned him as he sped through the intersection, causing them both to swerve. He recovered as best he could and kept going despite the horns blaring behind him.

He weaved through the streets of Colorado Springs, looking for any sign of the car. There's a few false alarms, but once he sees the passengers his heart falls. They're nowhere to be found.

He thinks that he should maybe start to head back when he hears a thundering BOOM a few streets to the west. Immediately he steps on the gas and his tiles squeal as he peels toward the noise. That had to be them, the crazy motherfuckers. What the fuck did they do?

He follows the smoke billowing up into the sky. As he turns the last corner he sees the police are already on the scene. Someone is on their stomach on the ground with a gun pointed at them. Did they catch the perp already? If it's Felix and company shouldn't there be more on the ground. Then he saw the man's face. Ron.

"Hey, HEY," He screamed as he rushed out of his car. The officers turned to look at him. He'd grabbed his badge and gun from the car as he rushed toward them.

"Who the fuck are you?" One asked.

"I'm an undercover cop you idiot," He spat back, throwing his badge at him.

He made them get off Ron and free him from his cuffs. He looks around and evaluated the scene in front of him. It took him a moment but he saw that the fireball in front of him was coming from a red VW Bug, and an overturned vehicle next to it. The car Felix was driving. He heard a wail and saw Connie on the ground crying. He put two and two together and bit back a grimace before turning to the officers.

"We have one black officer on the whole force and you can't bother to know him? Shape the fuck up and arrest that woman!” He yelled.

The officers scrambled to arrest the right person and Ron sprung up and ran toward the house that was closest to the flames. He watched him help up two women, one re recognized as Ron's girlfriend from the Black Student Union, and bring them father away.

"Is everyone okay?" He asked, seeing that the girls looked a little dazed. No doubt they had been knocked over by the blast of that were that close.

“We're fine, I'm gonna take them to the hospital just in case," Ron told him, ushering the girls to his car.

"I'll stay behind to make sure fire and anyone else that comes sets this up properly. They'll probably take Connie to an emergency unit too so be careful," He leaned by the open window of Ron's car as he spoke.

"We will be, you stay safe too," He said as he turned on the engine.

"And if you see Elle, tell her I'm okay," He knew the words were simple, but she'd appreciate them.

Ron met his gaze and nodded.

"Will do, brother. I'll see you there," Flip stepped back and the car rolled off away from the fire.

He took a deep breath. He could hear the fire engine in the distance and the police sirens approaching. Connie was currently being loaded into the back of an ambulance on a stretcher accompanied by an officer. The VW Bug let off another spurt of flames.

This is not how he thought this day would go.

_______

He drove to the hospital about a half hour later, trying to decompress and process what he just witnessed. The sight of the burning car, the smell of kerosene and smoke, the wailing of Connie mixed with the screams of Ron and the officers. What a shit show.

He became aware of how tightly he was gripping the wheel when he heard a knuckle crack. He loosened his grip and took a breath. He knew he should go back to the organization now, the longer he stayed away the more likely he was to blow his cover. But he wanted to make sure his partner wasn't going to be put in handcuffs again. And they'd need a statement from him about what just happened, and to know not to release anything about his involvement as an officer.

He was thankful the three men were pronounced dead on the scene. They were vile human beings who were intent on killing innocent people sure, but he didn't want to imagine the agony of surviving that kind of explosion. And he was sure they would be a nightmare for the nurses. Connie was sure to be a handful on her own, the way she was screeching and flailing. He hoped Elle wouldn't have to deal with all this, maybe she was helping other patients.

He swung into a parking spot and rushed inside, barely stopping at the front desk to flash his badge and ask which way to head. The nurses must have already seen the rest of the patients come in because they looked grave.

He dashed down the left hallway, bursting through the double doors that lead to the small emergency center. He passed the empty waiting room to enter the patient area. The first room he passed held Ron and his friends. He skidded to a halt and caught his breath.

"Is everything okay?" He asked, entering the room.

"Yeah, I'm okay. They're okay. No damage on us, I think we're just here as more of a precaution," Ron explained. "How's the scene?"

"It's being handled. It's not pretty but at least it was contained and didn't harm anything else. You guys should be good to go home tonight, your house is fine,"

"Thanks," Patrice said from across the room. Her and her friend looked to be in no mood for talking, which he understood.

"Your girl was just in here, I told her you were okay," Ron offered, giving him a smile.

"Thanks. I told her I wasn't gonna get into trouble today so she probably had a heart attack with this many officers coming in at once. Where is she now?"

"She went down the hall to get the medicine for the nurses to work on Connie. She had some scrapes from resisting arrest but they can't get her to settle down enough to help her,"

"She seems to have quieted down now, maybe she—“ His sentence was cut off by a loud shriek and the sound of glass shattering.

He took one look at Ron and ran out of the room, looking for the source. He found it a few doors down the hallway. Connie was being tended to by five nurses, most of which were holding her down while she thrashed in the small hospital bed. An IV had been attached to her arm but it appears to have been ripped out and the glass container smashed on the floor with the liquid seeping across the tile.

"Ma'am, please cooperate, were just trying to help," He heard Elle say. She was by the nurse's cart, rifling to find something in the mess.

"I'm innocent, you can't do this to me!" Connie screamed in response.

The nurses tightened their hold. No one seemed to notice his presence yet. He feared entering the room in case Connie noticed him and she figured out who he really was. She hadn't noticed him at the scene, too busy staring at the charred Ford.

"Ma'am we cannot help you unless you calm down. You have several scrapes we need to tend to, we want to make sure they heal correctly," Elle continued with a even voice.

She spoke calmly and he could easily see how any patient would find it soothing. She was a sight in her uniform, looking professional and focused. She carefully drawing the contents of a small bottle into a syringe. She brought it eye level, inspecting it, squirting some out, before drawing closer to the distraught woman. Her shrieks had become quieter, becoming more of whimpers. She wasn't aware of the syringe approaching her.

"We'll need to disinfect the cuts and get them wrapped in gauze," She explained out loud to the other nurses, who nodded in affirmation.

She looked at the nurse across from her and nodded. That nurse began to talk to Connie, diverting her attention while Elle drew the needle closer. They were trying to inject her, probably with a sedative, in order to calm her down. The distraction seemed to work until Connie felt the pinch of the needle entering her arm. Her head jerked back, looking at her arm and then at Elle.

It was at that moment he noticed her necklace falling forward from under her uniform collar, the same moment Connie saw it as well. Elle seemed unaware, focused to keeping the woman calm as she finished the injection.

Suddenly, Connie broke the hold the nurse had on her right arm, lunging it over to grab at Elle's necklace. She yanked the chain down, her head jerking with it.

"You filthy Jew, what'd you put in me?" Connie gritted out, fist tightening around the chain as the nurse clambered to get ahold of her.

Elle's expression was steeled, jaw set. One hand was on the syringe, now removed from her arm, and the other was desperately trying to pry her fingers off her necklace.

"It was a sedative ma'am, the same one we tried to put in your IV before you broke it. We promise, it's for your own good. We aren't here to hurt you," She said in an even tone, expertly masking her anger.

"You don't get to tell me what's good for me you dirty kike!” Connie roared in response.

The nurses all wore the same expression of shock. Flip was sure they'd seen and heard worse, but such an open attack right in front of them must be jarring. It sure disturbed him. Elle took a deep breath before speaking again.

"Ma'am I need you to let go," She said evenly.

"I watched my husband die today. A good man. A pure man. He would have killed you if he knew you were putting poison in me," Connie's voice was full of malice, her grip tightening around the necklace to the point of drawing blood where the pendant came to a point.

Elle yelped, the metal chain digging into her skin before breaking and clinking to the ground. She stepped back, holding her hand to her neck to make she was okay. Her composure was broken, eyes filled with rage. In one swift motion she drew her arm back and rocked it forward with all her strength, her fist connecting with the woman's cheek.

Connie grunted and fell limp against the bed, knocked out cold. The room was dead silent. It was if time had stopped. Elle's chest heaved as she slowly came back to reality. She took one look at Connie and looked frantically at her fellow nurses.

"Is she—” She started to ask lowly.

"She's just knocked out, it was the sedatives, right?" One nurse responded, looking at the others. A chorus of affirmation followed.

"It was the drugs that knocked her out, poor thing has had a hard day," One said.

"I heard she fell on her head while being apprehended, hope she doesn't get a bruise," Another offered.

Elle's posture relaxed, her eyes growing glassy and her hands gaining a tremor. Flip decided it was time for him to enter.

"Eliana," He said softly, getting to her side with just a few quick strides. The nurses seemed caught off guard by his presence, eyeing the badge and gun on his person.

"She's not in trouble is she? She was just defending herself," A nurse asked, ready to step forward and come to her defense.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, I didn't see a thing," He said simply, pulling his girl into a hug.

"Flip?" She asked, not having the strength to look up at him.

"I'm here, come on, let's get you some air," He said quietly.

A nurse picked up Elle's necklace and held it out to Flip, who took it and nodded his silent thanks.

"Thank you ladies, my partner is down the hall if you need anything. I'm gonna make sure Elle is okay," He escorted Elle out of the room, his arm looped around her waist.

_______

There was a bench right outside of a maintenance door. He sat her down, moving right next to her, bringing her head to rest on his shoulder. She hadn't said a word as they walked down the quiet hallways. She just stared dead ahead, eyes focusing on nothing in particular.

"Talk to me," He murmured, tucking a stray curl back under her cap.

"I could lose my job," She whispered, voice thick from holding in emotion. "I just punched a patient in the face what the fuck what I thinking?"

"She physically attacked you and was screaming hate speech I think any sane person would consider that self defense," He reasoned with her.

"It doesn't matter, I lost my cool. She was in my care, it shouldn't matter. This could be a nightmare for the hospital if it gets out" She buried her face in her hand

"I don't think it's gonna. The nurses you were working with seem to have your back on this one. One of them looked ready to take me out too when I came into the room. And I doubt Connie will have any memory after getting clocked like that,"

Elle groaned in response, rubbing her face with her hands. She swiped under her eyes, trying to prevent any tears from falling while she was on shift.

"No matter what happens, you're going to be fine. You won't lose your job, they love you here and aren't going to fire you because you defended yourself against a crazed racist," He assured.

"I hope you're right," She sighed, bringing her hand up to her throat and feeling where the chain cut into her skin.

Suddenly, her hand stopped as she remembered her necklace had been broken off her. She started to stand when he dug into his pocket to bring it forth.

"It's here, don't worry. I'm sorry she broke it, I know how much it means to you,"

Elle sucked in a breath, new tears welling in her eyes. Her mouth was drawn tight, preventing any emotion from escaping as she gingerly touched the necklace laying in his palm. The pendant, which had survived a genocide, years of torture and pain and a trip to a new country was untouched. The silver star stood resolute against the pale flesh of his palm. It was the chain, which was weak from decades of wear, that has been broken.

"Mama won't be happy when I tell her about this," She noted. "I think I could get a new chain, this one looks beyond repair,"

She took the necklace from his hand, rubbing the pendant between her fingers before tucking it into her breast pocket.

"I think you're right," He said. She was coming out of shock and seemed to be reasoning with herself again, a good sign. "It's going to be okay sweetheart,"

"Ron told me what happened today. You're working with a bunch of lunatics,"

"Are we talking about the organization or the police?" He asked, realizing it could very well be either after today's events.

"I meant the org but both of them. It's meshugas, I don't know how you work with either of them," She gave a quick laugh of disbelief.

"Its been a trip," He didn't want to speak ill of his department, but after watching how his fellow officers handled things today, he wasn't happy. "I'll have to head back soon. My cover was almost blown today and I have my work cut out for me,"

"You're going back?" She removed her head from his shoulder and looked at him incredulously.

"The guys who blew my cover are the same ones getting their ashes scooped into body bags right now. I think I have a good shot of this working out," He then hurried to explain. "I wouldn't do it if I didn't think it was safe,"

She just stared at him for a moment, eyes searching for any doubt in him. He remained firm, he knew this was the right thing to do.

"You'd better come home in one piece Zimmerman," She warned. "Or else there's gonna be a lot more racists with black eyes today,"

"I promise you," He held out a hand to her. She took it and gave it a squeeze.

"Call me before you get to my place? So I can get some dinner started?"

"Of course," He reaffirmed.

"I guess I should get back too, I made kind of a mess in there. I should get to cleaning," She sighed, standing up from the bench and smoothing her dress out.

"You gonna be alright? I can take you home," He offered.

"No it's okay, I have to finish my shift. I'll be fine,"

"Okay, I'll see you tonight then. Tell Ron where I'm headed and that this is something I gotta do without a wire,"

"Ten four," she mock saluted him.

She started to head back toward the door when he caught her and brought her flush to his body. He pulled her into a kiss, cradling her face with his hands, silently communicating every emotion he’d been holding in that day. He swore he’d come home to her tonight, he’d put an end to this.

“I love you,” He whispered as he broke the kiss.

“I love you too,” She whispered back. “Be safe,”

He promised to do his best.

_______

Hi! I took a few week off to focus on activism and getting back to work in the middle of this g-d damn pandemic. Sorry for the delay, here’s the next chapter!

#flip zimmerman #flip x reader #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x oc #artb #ARTBmasterlist

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 5 years ago

Text

Burned Part 23

Summary: Alfie Solomons is in need of a secretary. Tommy Shelby mentions a young woman in need of employment. From there the two step into a dangerous dance together.

Part 23: Alfie’s plan goes into motion.

Alfie couldn’t ignore it any longer. He had started to avoid looking at mirrors. He really didn’t mind what he looked like, as long as he appeared intimidating to his foes. But he didn’t want to worry Louise and he didn’t want his son growing up and seeing him in such a state. It wasn't fair to either of them. Still, Teddy was a good distraction. Caring for him was never ending and Louise was hesitant to hire a nanny. Taking care of the newborn kept him in the present moment and allowed him to forget about what was ahead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

One morning, he found Louise burping Teddy in the parlor. “Morning, love.” Alfie kissed his wife and let Teddy grab a hold of his thumb. “Hello there, Teddy. You alright?” He murmured softly.

Louise smiled but it faded when she looked up at him. The progression of cancer was gradual but sometimes seeing it made her want to cry. It looked terribly painful and there was nothing she could do.

“Want me to take him?”

She nodded and handed the baby to Alfie. “How are you feeling today?”

“Can’t complain, living in paradise aren’t I?” He sat down near his wife and let Teddy rest on his chest. The baby looked so tiny compared to his broad shoulders.

Louise knew better than to press the matter. Her husband never liked to talk about his cancer. In fact, he was content to go weeks without speaking about it, if possible. Instead, he liked to focus on her and Teddy. It wasn't awful, but she didn't want him to ignore his own health.

“Can’t believe he only woke us up once last night.” Alfie chuckled and smoothed back his son’s feathery hair. Teddy curled his fists around Alfie’s shirt and rested his cheek down. “Must be a new record for him, innit?”

"It might be." She agreed softly with a smile. Alfie embraced fatherhood as if it were the best position he could ever hold. He never once complained about Teddy crying or fussing, even if it were in the middle of the night. He remarked on every little stepping-stone. How Teddy’s hair grew, how he started to recognize faces or the tiny smile he gave one afternoon.

But it still didn’t cancel out the worries he had for his future. What if Teddy’s first and only memory of Alfie was him wasting away? Being eaten alive by horrendous skin cancer? What sort of mental image was that for a young boy to have? Teddy reached up and placed a tiny hand over Alfie’s cheek. The man smiled sadly. “Yeah, mate, I know.” He sighed quietly. “Turning into a monster.”

Louise frowned. “Alfie…”

“S’alright, love.” He feigned an amused look. “Becoming the monsters everyone else sees, ain’t I?”

She stood and walked over to him. “That’s not true at all. You’re still the man I fell in love with.” She knelt in front of him and took the hand that wasn’t supporting Teddy. Her thumb brushed over some of the marks on his skin. “These don’t define you. Look.” She smiled at their son. “That defines you. Our son. You’re not a monster, you’re my husband, the man I love, and a perfect father.”

Alfie looked at Teddy who had dozed off. “Think it’s time to retire.” He said quietly and tugged her close.

Louise picked up Teddy and curled up on Alfie’s lap. He wrapped his arms around them both. “Do you want to or do you feel like you have to?” It made her happy to think about Alfie finally retiring. But she didn’t want him to feel forced into it.

“Nah.” He shook his head and glanced down at the tattoo on his hand. The one he'd gotten so many years ago after the War. A stupid boy who wanted power and reputation. Riches and luxury he never had growing up. How far he'd come from that man. “Getting too old for it, ain’t I?” He smiled and kissed her cheek. “Not the young man I used to be.”

“You’re not old.” She teased and nuzzled him close. “But I would love if you gave it all up if I’m being honest. Wouldn't have to worry about you being in danger anymore.”

“I know, love.” He stroked her hair. “I’ve got better things here.”

Louise cuddled Teddy close and smiled. But it faded quickly when she remembered the boxing match. “So what are you going to do?”

He thought about Luca’s visit to the bakery. It made his blood boil. That Italian had the nerve to threaten his family. It was a wonder that Alfie didn’t gun him down then and there. But Louise and Teddy were his priority. He would do anything to keep them safe, even if meant making a deal with the devil and turning against the Shelbys.

“Everything will be okay, love.” He murmured. “I promise.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Two weeks after Teddy’s birth, Alfie reluctantly went to London to settle everything. He called Ollie to his office early in the morning before most of the other men had arrived at the bakery.

“Sir, you wanted to talk to me?” The young man knocked on the door before coming in.

“Yeah, mate, have a seat.” Alfie cleared his throat and took off his glasses.

“How’re Teddy and Louise?” Ollie asked with a smile.

“Good, good, both healthy.”

“Good to hear.” His assistant was pleased to see Alfie find his purpose in his new family. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“I’m dying, Ollie.” The words were blunt and were a sharp turn from the joyful conversation about Teddy.

“Sir…” Ollie’s eyes furrowed. For a moment, he wasn't sure if he'd heard Alfie correctly.

“Mean, everyone’s dying. Just guess I’m dying a bit faster. Skin cancer.” He rubbed his eyes. “Doctor said I ain’t gonna make it past a few years. Not gonna see me son grow up.” Something stuck in his throat. "Just something I'm going to have to accept."

It was difficult to see the man facing such a tough diagnosis. For a long time, Ollie thought nothing could tear down Alfie Solomons. But he looked tired. Perhaps it was being a new father but maybe he’d just grown exhausted by the life he lived. “Is there anything I can do for you, sir?” He asked.

Alfie busied himself with absent-mindedly organizing his desk. Placing items in one place then moving them seconds later. “No. Just need to get everything in order in next few days.” He flipped open his planner and scanned the scrawling handwriting. A sad smile formed on his lips when he realized how much he missed Louise’s handwriting next to his. Missed the little notes she left him from time to time or the occasional heart she drew for him.

“The match is next week.” Ollie reminded him.

“It is. And Luca Changretta’s men will be there.”

“Sir?”

“You’ll stay at home. Stay with Shayna and the kids. I’ll be finding your family a place outside of London. Somewhere nice, you deserve it. Won’t hafta worry ‘bout money. I’ll be taking care of it even after I’m gone.”

Ollie was unnerved by the way his boss was talking. It was so unlike the man he knew very well. Obviously, something had caused a change in him. “Sir, what are you planning on doing?” He had no idea how he’d been involved with the American.

“Lou and I will be in Margate after the match. I’m retiring.” Alfie made his hands still even though he was still on edge. The end was quickly approaching and he wasn’t sure if he was ready. Had he taken care of everything properly? Would things turn out the way he wanted?

It was sudden news to Ollie. “You’re retiring? So what’ll happen to the firm?” He asked. It wouldn’t be an easy task liquidating the empire Alfie had built up in alcohol and on the track.

“Been talking to a few people, you won’t have to worry ‘bout it though.” He assured him. “I’ll handle it, best you’re not involved.”

“Thank you, sir.” He said quietly and took a deep breath. “End of an era then?”

Alfie chuckled. “S’pose it is, mate.” He reached into his drawer and pulled out the bottle of whiskey he kept there. He set the bottle in front of his assistant as a little gift. “Guess we can just sit back and watch those gypsy bastards fuck up Britain, aye?”

Ollie laughed and shook his head. “Will be quite the event to watch.” He agreed and took the bottle.

“It sure will.”

Alfie returned to Warwickshire a few days before the boxing match was to take place. There was electricity in the air everywhere he went. Something was sure to happen, he planned for it. But it was still hard to face the music at the end of the day.

Louise was standing on the front steps with Teddy in her arms. She was smiling warmly.

Alfie smiled and went to embrace her. His heart was racing and he hoped she couldn’t tell when she hugged him back. Teddy grabbed at Alfie’s shirt collar and held on as if he knew what was going to happen in just a matter of days. Alfie wished he could make them both understand why he was about to go through with such a plan. But no amount of words could explain it. Time was short. All he wanted to do was spend what time he had left with his family.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To say Alfie was nervous wasn’t exactly accurate. He was confident in his actions, but it was something he never thought he would do. But it had to be done. He was so tired.

Tommy turned into the locker room where Alfie was sitting. The Jewish man seemed guarded not that it was unusual. But he sat straight, his hands resting on his cane, shrouded in shadows by his hat and heavy coat.

“Yeah, you’re like me, Tommy, can’t bear to watch a fight that’s got so many rules.” Alfie heaved a sigh. The two men sat in silence for a moment. The sounds of the fight were muffled. The crowd roaring and shouting along with each blow.

“Tommy, imagine that you could not see at all.” Alfie glanced over at the Brummie. “That you was born blind.” When Tommy didn’t speak, he kept on. Maybe the man had learned to let Alfie ramble his way through his words until he was absolutely finished. “Then, one day, you open your eyes and you can see everything in the world. When before you could only hear it or touch it. There it is.” He raised his hand like a magician revealing a trick. “The revelation.”

Tommy’s icy blue eyes remained on him, not able to follow the man’s train of thought in the slightest. He could see the very obvious marks that riddled his skin. Whatever it was, Tommy had no clue; it seemed painful and aged the man a great deal.

“I’ve had one.” Alfie nodded and couldn’t help but smile a bit. “Teddy. S’got me eyes. The second he opened them, I asked myself…'Alfie, what are you doing?’ Really, I mean what are you doing? You’ve got a beautiful wife and now you’ve got this little boy. I mean for fuck’s sake, little bit can’t even hold his own head up on his own. You know, what if I just fucked off to Margate and never went back? Sold everything and just disappeared? Think ‘bout how happier Lou would be. Teddy wouldn’t ever have to grow up in the smoke of London.”

“Louise had the baby.” Tommy didn’t ask, merely stated the now obvious fact.

“She did, yeah.” Alfie ran a hand over his mouth. His heart ached to be back with his family. “He’ll be eight weeks on Monday. Will be waiting another week before we go to Margate. I need some time.” His eyes glazed over a bit as he stared at the wall in front of him. This was only stage-one of his plan. He only had another week. “Plus, the Americans are here. Big fucks small, aye? Always been like that. There is a fight out there between big and small. And big fucks small, always.” He tapped his cane on the ground and stood up with a grunt. “Right, Margate. Blue skies, heaven.” He turned and looked at the other man. “I’ll be seeing you soon, Tommy. By the pier.”

The Blinder was beyond suspicious at that point. Of course, Alfie Solomons was always up to something but the talk about retirement threw Tommy for a loop. It most likely meant he was going out with a bang. “Stay for the fight, Alfie.” His voice was tense.

“Nah, mate, I already know who wins, don’t I?” Alfie held up his glasses. “By the pier, Tommy.” He reminded him before heading out of the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was late when Alfie returned to Inglewood. He finished up clearing out the rest of the bakery. Instructing Ollie to dispose of the life he once had. Burning through the empire he’d built over so many years. He didn’t regret any bit of it.

There was a light still on upstairs. Louise sat in bed reading. She seemed content and at peace. Completely unaware of the chaos her husband had initiated and the last stand he planned.

“How did the match go?” She asked and marked her spot in the book before setting it aside.

“Left early. Not my cup of tea, innit?” He sighed and got changed for bed. “Quiet night?” It was heart-wrenching to just have pleasant small talk with her. He wanted to get down on his knees and confess all his sins to her, beg for forgiveness, and reminisce on everything she’d given him. He wanted to open his heart to her and tell her how much he treasured her. But that would only raise suspicions and possibly alert her to something.

“Hm, a violent sport isn’t entertaining to my Alfie?” She teased.

“Nah.” He smiled and poked his head into the nursery adjoining the master bedroom. Teddy was fast asleep in his crib. His lips parted and his little fists resting by his head. He wasn’t bothered by his parents speaking softly to one another. “Rather be home with you and Teddy.”

“Or you’re upset that you’re not the one doing any of the punching.” She held up her fists like a boxer.

Alfie chuckled and got into bed with her. “Should put you in the ring, you’ve knocked me off me feet a couple of times. That little number you wore on our honeymoon? Total knock out.”

She grinned and cuddled close to him. “Afraid it’ll be a couple of more months before you see me wearing something like that again. Not until Teddy sleeps through the night.”

The smile on Alfie’s face faltered but he tried not to let it show. He realized he didn’t have a few months left. He wrapped his arms around his wife and held her close to him. “Think I want to go to Margate next week.”

“Margate? Oh, Alfie, it’ll be awfully cold by the water.”

He nodded absent-mindedly, staring up at the ceiling. “Just want a change of scenery.”

Louise frowned and reached for his hand. “I’ve been worried about you.” She told him honestly. “The past few weeks you’ve been acting differently.”

“Have I? S’pose there’s a lot going on.” He tried to shrug it off.

“Is it because of the baby?” Louise was afraid Alfie wasn’t happy. He appeared to enjoy being a father but maybe it was just to make her feel better.

“What? No, Lou. Absolutely not. You and Teddy are the best things in me life. I’m just trying to get everything settled, is all. Get ready for retiring.” He didn’t disclose that he technically was already retired. After letting the Italians into the boxing match, he’d taken his reward and left. There was a grenade fixed to the door for anyone who was willing to seek him out. So either the bakery would remain empty or it would be blown to pieces. What was done was done.

“Well, I’m glad you’re doing that. I was afraid Luca Changretta was going to upset things.” Louise thought Alfie had completely avoided any dealings with the Americans. He’d given her no hints or suspicions.

Alfie felt a little guilty for lying but the less she knew about the match the better. In the long run, she would be kept safe from the Americans and hopefully the Shelbys after that week.

“Is there anything you need your secretary to do?” Louise smiled up at him. “Or are you letting me retire as well?”

“Fucking hell, you’ve been retired since you’ve had our son, love. Would never make you work another day in your life.” He kissed her hair. “You’ve done your part, kept me books in order and kept me in line.”

“I miss being your secretary though.” She pouted. “Got to see you more often.”

“Well now that I’m retired, love, you get me all the time. Sure you’ll be begging for me to go back to work after two days. I’ll drive you mad.” He teased affectionately.

“Never.” She smiled and reached up to kiss him. She gave him so much comfort. He only wished he could do the same. “Margate, then?” When she drew away, she looked into his eyes.

He nodded and touched a hand to her cheek. “Margate. Just for a bit.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was cold. The wind was fierce by the shore and there was an ungodly chill in the air. But Louise didn’t seem to mind and was happy to bundle up and take Teddy for walks on the beach with Alfie. Still, she had the persistent feeling that something was going on with Alfie.

He’d been awfully sentimental and nostalgic. Reminding her about the time they first met, the first time they’d kissed, the dress she wore to the art gallery, their wedding, and so many more memories. He’d linger on each life event as if he were about to forget it only seconds later.

Alfie had always been touchy, especially after their wedding. But the week at Margate, he acted as if they’d never so much as held hands before. Drawing out every little kiss and letting his hand linger on her arm or squeezing her hand as they walked together.

He didn’t sleep and stayed up with Teddy if he cried. Louise often heard him speaking to his son in the next room but could never hear what he was saying. He often checked in on Teddy more times than were necessary. His blue eyes looking into the bassinette with worry.

But if Louise asked if something was wrong, he’d chalk it up to retiring or would say there was nothing wrong at all.

The night before Tommy was due to arrive, Alfie held onto Louise like a vice when they made love. His fingers digging into her shoulders, pressing his face into the crook of her neck, and repeating over and over again that he loved her more than life itself.

She didn’t know why, but she began to cry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, Alfie was ready to face the music. His time had come and he was going to face it like a soldier. That’s all he could do, it was far too late to turn back.

“There you are.” Louise smiled. She was holding Teddy in a small basin of water as she gently washed his soft skin. The baby yawned and squirmed a bit. His fist waving about and trying to grab the washcloth his mother was using.

Alfie was amazed to see how much he’d grown in such a seemingly short amount of time. It was unfortunate he wouldn’t see him pass any more milestones. He would leave that to Louise to cherish.

“Right, going for a walk.” He had to keep his voice from shaking. But this was it. The note was on the desk in their room. A sealed letter for Teddy when he was old enough to receive it. Everything was in order. Now he just had to finish the hardest part.

Louise wrapped Teddy in a towel and held him close. Cyril lingered by her, watching the little bundle in her arms. “On the beach? I could come with you.” She offered.

“I’d just slow you down.” Alfie forced a smile and walked over to her. “You know I love you, yeah?” He whispered.

She just laughed and shook her head. “If I didn’t know by now I’d be pretty thick, wouldn’t I?” She teased.

“Nah, you’re as bright as they come.” He chuckled weakly and kissed her forehead. His eyes fell on Teddy who was dozing off against Louise’s shoulder. What could he say to his son who wouldn’t understand? “He’ll be bright too.”

“I guess we’ll just have to see.” Louise smiled and carefully dried off Teddy’s dark hair. “But I’m sure he will be if he’s got his father’s wits.” She went to set the baby down in the bassinette. “I was going to make breakfast, you won’t be long will you?”

Alfie couldn’t shake the large lump in his throat. “No, love, I’ll be quick.”

She only smiled and went into the small kitchen.

Her husband lingered, not wanting to leave quite yet. “Lou.” He walked over to her.

“Mhm?”

“I love you.” He said again and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. He kissed her jaw and neck, trying to hold onto the way she felt. Trying to leave just enough of himself with her. She already had his heart.

“I know, dear. I love you too.” She replied with an amused look.

He rested his chin on her shoulder and closed his eyes. “Whatever I’ve done, yeah, I’ve done it because I love you and I don’t want you to suffer.”

Louise frowned. “Alfie, is something the matter? Honestly, it must be something other than retiring. You’re acting so strange and it’s making me worry about you.”

“No, nothing’s wrong. I just want you to know.” He kissed her cheek and forced himself to withdraw. “I’ll only be a mo’.” He passed by the bassinette and stopped. “You be good to mumma, yeah?”

Teddy opened his eyes and kicked his feet up. He could only make little noises of contentment in response.

“Yeah, you’ll be the man of the house. You’ll need to keep her safe.” He whispered and lightly wiggled his tiny toes. “Oh the stories she’ll tell you.” A sad smile crossed the man’s face. “You probably won’t believe them at first. But they’re real…I did them all. Only believe her though. Anyone else is telling you fucking lies. She’s the only one who truly knew me.” He swallowed and leaned down to kiss Teddy’s small forehead. “I love you, never forget that. I hope you understand.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun was still burning in the sky when Alfie made it down to the shoreline. It bleached everything white and gave a strange purgatory feeling.

He kept his eyes on the horizon when he heard Tommy approaching.

“You were easy to find.”

Alfie punched out a bitter laugh. “Well, there is a good reason for that, mate. I wanted it to be here, didn’t I? Beautiful, innit?”

Tommy stood a little bit away as he listened to the man ready to accept his fate.

“Lou…” Alfie twisted and pointed up near the dunes. “I proposed to her right up there. This morning, she were down here with Teddy.” A smile pricked his face and he felt his eyes sting from the wind and the tears he held back. “Letting him put his little feet in the water. She looked at me and said, ‘This is paradise, Alfie. We don’t ever hafta go back to Camden if we didn’t want to’.”

“Alfie.” Tommy tried to interrupt.

“Me mum took me here when I was little. Couldn’t fucking swim and nearly drowned. What you think, Tommy, reckon it’d be better if she let me drown?” His blue eyes looked over at the man. “Yeah, lotta people would still be alive, wouldn’t they? Their families wouldn’t be mourning them. Wouldn’t have had to fight in that fucking war.”

“You wouldn’t have met Louise,” Tommy interjected. “You wouldn’t have helped her out of that situation. You got rid of her husband.”

Alfie laughed sarcastically. “Thing is Tommy, women like her, people like her they always find something. Hell, if I don’t wonder every day if she could’ve found someone better than me. Me? I couldn’t have done any fucking better. You ask me, yeah, all I’ve done is brought her pain.”

Tommy opened his mouth but Alfie didn’t let him get a word in.

“Got skin cancer.” He spoke with brutal honesty. “Riddled with it, picked it up in France from those fucking gases.” He shook his head. “And Lou…I’ll be damned if she has to watch me die slowly.”

“So you’ll let her find you dead on a beach?” Tommy asked harshly. “How’d you figure that would be any better?”

Alfie rocked back and forth on his feet, his hands deep in his pockets. He didn’t want to answer that question. He didn’t want to face his reality anymore. “Y’know, I know how you felt when you lost Grace and when Charlie was taken. M’not a fucking monster, am I? D’you know what I would do if Lou was shot dead in front of me or if Teddy was taken? I’d tear the whole fucking universe to shreds, mate. But now I’ve made me bed, right, and everything’s done. I made a deal with the Americans to get into the fight. Weren’t anything to do with you or your family, I was only doing it to save me own. Call me what you want, but I needed to make sure they would leave Louise alone once I’m gone. Now we’re even. I get your brother killed and you kill me. That’s the way our world works, innit? Fucking cycle of people killing people killing people.”

“Alfie.”

“I’m retired, Tommy, but I’ve made peace with everything. I’d give me life a million times in order to keep her and Teddy safe. Lou will be fine when I’m gone. She’ll be protected and well off for the rest of her life. S’pose all I can ask is that you leave her the fuck alone. You’ll get your money’s worth by killing me. No use going after her and me boy. But I trust you’re an honorable man and wouldn’t do that.”

“Alfie, shut up.” Tommy snapped in a low voice.

“Oh, for fuck's sake, Tommy, just get on with it!” Alfie demanded. “You know you’re going to do it. So, finish it off so you can go back to your scheming, aye?”

Tommy gritted his teeth and pulled out his gun. He aimed and let his finger go heavy on the trigger.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @giftofdreams

Tag list: @vehement-care @kimmietea @eleventhdoctorsangel @fire-treasure-iii

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#alfie solomons #alfie solomonsxoc #alfie solomons x oc #alfie solomons imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky fookin blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #oc #ofc #cyril solomons #tommy shelby #ollie #tom hardy #tom hardy character #cillian murphy #cillian murphy character

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swiftletinthecloud · 5 years ago

Text

Title: New Beginnings

Notes: For @Wonderbat385, for the WonderBatHoliday2019 exchange held by @maidenoftheworld @fyeahwonderbat! I’m really sorry your gift is later than I had planned!

Alternate Timeline - There has been no Robin before the event of this fic.

FF.net :: AO3 :: Chapter 1/1

After the defeat of Steppenwolf, in between helping Bruce rebuild Wayne Manor into the team’s new headquarter and recruit new members, Diana somehow unofficially moved into Wayne Manor. It was just more convenient for her to bunk with the billionaire than to maintain her own residency or book a hotel room whenever she was stateside. It was the logical thing to do since she already had her Paris residence and her civilian job as the Curator for the Department of Antiquities at the Louvre to deal with when she wasn’t busy being Wonder Woman. Or so Diana reasoned to herself as she stole a glance at the aforementioned billionaire who was busy typing away at his computer across from her.

They were supposed to be coming up with a plan to recruit the Green Arrow and Black Canary respectively, yet for the past hour, Diana found herself alternating between studying Bruce from beneath her lashes and scowling at the headline of the newspaper in front of her.

Bruce Wayne’s Hidden Romance with the Sexy Librarian! Look out ladies, she moved in!

A photo of her and Bruce leaving Wayne Manor in his car also graced the front page of the Gotham Gazette. While Diana had to admit that it wasn’t an unflattering photo of her and Bruce’s smile as he turned towards her in the picture made Diana’s heart fluttered, the headline was so wrong in a hundred different ways - or just about!

“Something interesting in the papers today?” Bruce finally looked up from his computer, and Diana had no idea where the thought came from, but she found the way he took off his reading glasses and briefly pinched the bridge of his nose adorable. Diana hoped she wasn’t blushing when she tossed Bruce the papers so he could read the headline himself.

“Well, I can see why you’re upset. You work at the museum, not the library,” said Bruce. A faint smile playing on his lips as he set the papers down and met Diana’s eyes. That smile was quick to turn into a small frown as he reached down to rub his stinging shin. “Ouch!”

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about,” said Diana as she rolled her eyes. As irritated as she was, she knew she didn’t put that much force in her nudge against Bruce to warrant such a dramatic reaction from him.

“Diana, I’m sorry,” said Bruce as he ran a hand through his hair. “All joking aside, I should have warned you what you might be up against, what with my reputation and Gotham’s gossip network, when you first moved in. I will get the Gazette to take that off their front page today.”

“That’ll just fuel the fire.” Diana took a sip of her coffee to keep herself from frowning again.

“Speaking of adding fuel to the fire...” Bruce hesitated. He broke eye contact with Diana to glance over at Alfred, who, Diana noticed, stared back expectedly and... encouragingly? Bruce looked back at her as he took out two pieces of paper from a nearby black folder. “...I was wondering if you would like to go to the circus with me… as a date. These are tickets for Haley’s Circus at the Wayne Charities Benefit Performance tonight, if you’re interested.”

Diana could hear Bruce holding his breath as she reached across the table to take the tickets from him. “I don’t know, Bruce,” she stalled. From the corner of her eyes, she could see his face falling and there was a little stabbing feeling in her heart as she dragged the moment out. “You’re not giving me a lot of time to prepare. It says here that the performance is in three hours, and I haven’t a clue what I’m going to wear,” she said as she gingerly ran her finger over the time stamped on the ticket.

Bruce froze in front of her, as if he was surprised that she didn’t reject his proposal outright. It took a little tap on his hand from her before he broke out of his stupor. “I was working on how to ask you if you wanted to accompany me since yesterday,” Bruce said sheepishly.

“On a date,” Diana said with a smile.

“Yes, on a date,” Bruce repeated. His smile wasn’t as evident as hers, but it was there, nonetheless, giving her a good glimpse of what he was feeling.

------

Their first date was disastrous to say the least. Oh, it wasn’t anything on Bruce’s or her part that ruined the night. Rather it was the tragedy played out in front of them that neither was able to prevent that had her chalking the night up under her list of “First Dates Gone Wrong.” Both she and Bruce had been frozen in their seats when the Flying Graysons’ rope broke. In a moment that seemed to take forever yet was over before either of them could react, John and Mary Grayson plummeted towards their untimely deaths.

Diana could see Bruce’s flinching again as she squeezed his hand in comfort. She couldn’t imagine what nightmarish memories were being pulled to the forefront of his mind as the lone surviving Grayson’s cries echoed throughout the big circus tent, cries full of sorrow and grief.

“Hey, look at me,” Diana said as she turned Bruce’s face away from the stage and towards her. “Are you okay? Are you here with me right now?” She watched his eyes cleared as they met hers, until only anger and determination remained.

“I’m here with you,” Bruce replied as he squeezed her hand in return.

-----

Somehow by the end of the night, it was decided that little 8-year-old Richard Grayson was going home with Bruce Wayne and Diana Prince. It seemed wild and slightly irresponsible that the police and the state would let a newly made orphan go with two complete strangers, yet that was the picture on the front page of the Gotham Gazette the following morning. Little Richard Grayson, still in his red and green Flying Graysons leotard, was bundled up in Bruce Wayne’s suit jacket and carried in Diana Prince’s arms as the three left Haley’s Circus.

The gossip that spread with the new headline and accompanying picture had some Gothamites bemoaning Bruce Wayne’s lost bachelor status. The more sympathetic Gothamites pitied Richard Grayson’s tragic losses while a few others were way too excited about Gotham’s supposed new royal instant-family.

Back at Wayne Manor though, things were a little bit trickier. Richard-I-go-by-Dick Grayson’s determination to go after the ones who caused his parents’ deaths had Bruce and Diana on opposite sides of the issue. While Diana was all for bringing Zucco to justice for the murders of John and Mary Grayson, she was not at all for training Dick to be running around the rooftops of Gotham in a costume and a mask. “Of all the irresponsible things ---!”

But Dick had different plans for his childhood, especially after he found out his new guardians were Batman and Wonder Woman on his third night at Wayne Manor. “What? Like that’s hard to figure out? You have a round table --”

“--that’s King Arthur ---” Alfred had interrupted.

“--a round table in your hidden ballroom and the Batcave in the basement. I want in. I want to help you get the man who killed my parents.”

At first, Bruce had been on Diana’s side; he was also against training Dick for any sort of fight...until the little acrobat snuck out on his fourth night at Wayne Manor to track down Zucco on his own. When Batman and Wonder Woman found Dick at Haley’s Circus, he was a little worse for wear, but thankfully alive. Dick had Zucco all tied up and ready to be picked up by the police.

“Dick has talents,” was how Bruce had started the conversation after everyone was safe and sound back at Wayne Manor. “We either train him and let him out supervised with one of us at night or he’s still going to sneak out behind our backs, but a lot less prepared for what he might face in the Gotham night and without one of us as backups.”

Their disagreement had Diana packed up and back in Paris before the week was out. Of course, she had said it was because she had been away from her work for too long and the Louvre needed her back, but it didn’t stop her from feeling like she was running way.

----

The holiday seasons around Wayne Manor remained a quiet affair despite the formation of the League the previous year. Clark, Arthur, and Victor had spent the holiday season with their own families after the League’s first end-of-the-year meeting. Barry, on the other hand, was Jewish, and while he could have celebrated Hanukkah at Wayne Manor where Bruce and Alfred had kept a room made for him, the season only reminded him of his own family tragedy so he had kept close to Central City instead. With Diana busy in Paris, Bruce and Alfred only bother with a quiet dinner together on the night of the 25th.

This year, despite the new addition to the manor, it was still quiet. The disagreement that sent Diana back to Paris had Bruce in a foul mood all month. While he had kept his promise to train Dick, Bruce also placed Robin, Dick’s chosen masked moniker, on comms duty until the boy reached at least double digits in age. And Dick, sensing that he had already won one battle too many at the moment against the famed Dark Knight, agreed to Bruce’s condition without much of a fight. While Alfred had done his best, Bruce was still missing Diana too much to make Dick’s stay as welcoming as it should have been.

It was shaping up to be quite a sad end to the year when the security alarm for the Batcave blared to life. The alarm had Dick scrambling for his Batarangs (a Christmas gift from Bruce), but it surprisingly brought a faint smile to Bruce’s face. There was only person with the ability to enter the Batcave undetected yet bothered to trip his alarm. She was also the person Bruce had been longing to speak to ever since she left. Diana breezed into Bruce’s space like she had always been there. Dick looked between Diana and Bruce and was hurrying to leave the room when Diana stopped him with a hand to his shoulder.

“Wait,” said Diana gently. She broke eye contact with Bruce to look down at the child in front of her. Hesitating only for a moment, Diana knelt down so that they were at the same eye level. “I’m sorry about before,” she told Dick. “The choice on whether or not to put on the mask and fight for justice is yours alone to make, not mine or Bruce’s, no matter how well-meaning we intend to be. Some of us are meant to be warriors, and no one can stop us once we set our minds to it. I was just like you when I was younger, sneaking out to train with my Amazon sisters against my mother’s wishes. In the end, she thought it was better to offer me her support and to have someone knowledgeable mentored me than to have me sneak around behind her back.”

While Diana speaking to Dick, Bruce knew her message was meant for him as well, that she had seen his side of their disagreement.

“I just don’t want you to feel like you can’t have a childhood or for you to put yourself in danger when you don’t have to yet.”

“Don’t worry,” replied Dick, “I’m on only comms duty for the next year and a half, no rooftops yet.”

Diana let out a chuckle as she straightened up. “You’re something special, aren’t you?”

“One of a kind,” quipped Dick. “I’ll leave you to talk to the big guy.” Nodding his head towards Bruce, Dick continued, “He’s been moping around and missing you since you left.”

As Dick left for the main house, Bruce couldn’t help calling after him. “Precocious is more like it!” As for the Amazon in front of him, Bruce didn’t know where to start.

“You know,” Diana began for him, “if you missed me, you could have just called.”

“Would you have pick up?”

“I guess now we will never know, will we?”

The silence between them expanded until Diana turned towards the exits, intending on leaving if that was all Bruce had for her.

Bruce grabbed her hand before she could take a step towards the doors. “Wait. I’m sorry.” As Diana turned to face him, Bruce continued, “You came back and I’m being an ass. I did - do miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”

The soft squeeze of her hand that was in his echoed her words.

“I like you, Bruce. I really do. I’ll try to stop walking away every time we have a disagreement … but I can’t be the only one always offering an olive branch when we fight either.”

“No, I understand,” Bruce rushed to reassure her. “We’ll both have to put in the effort to make it work, equal partners, so to speak… if you’re still interested?”

“Only if I get to choose our next first date. No circus this time,” Diana said with a smile.

“No circus,” agreed Bruce.

The sound of the intercom interrupted whenever Bruce was going to say next, and Dick’s voice filled the Batcave. “Alfred said ‘Welcome back, Miss Prince,’ and dinner’s ready, unless you guys are going on your date right now.”

“We’re coming!” Diana yelled back before she turned to Bruce. “You know, we’re going to have our hands full with that one. I doubt he’s going to make it a full year and a half on only comms duty.”

“‘We’ huh?” Bruce couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

“Yes, ‘we’,” replied Diana fondly as they walked hand and hand to dinner.

Word Count: 2235

#fic: new beginnings #wonderbatholiday2019 #wonderbatsecretsanta #wonderbat #batman #wonder woman #bruce wayne #diana prince #dick grayson #alfred pennyworth #movie: justice league #my fics

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daveyjacobss · 5 years ago

Text

i’ve waited my whole life

jack kelly x davey jacobs

summary: i want to drive away with you, i want your complications too

(or: jack and davey get caught in a blizzard on the way to the jacobs’ for hanukkah)

a/n: happy hanukkah everyone!! it’s 10:26 pm here which means i officially finished this in time for the first night of hanukkah!!! hope you all enjoy this, as always - i’d love to hear your reactions :) (& yes the title is from paper rings by taylor swift and there will hopefully be a holiday themed mini series with other taylor swift lyrics and other ships)

also - the spacing/formatting of this is showing up really weird for me, so sorry if it shows up like that for you too :/

ao3 | masterlist

__________

It started snowing only a little bit before Jack and Davey left their shared apartment and got into their car. It was just a few flurries, nothing too much to worry about. At least, that's what the weather forecast had said. So they headed out with no worries on their mind, singing loudly to the songs on Jack's playlist. Jack was behind the wheel because Davey was too anxious of a driver, and Jack hadn't wanted to stress him out at all. Which he wasn't, or at least it didn't seem like it. Which was good, obviously. Even if Jack himself was maybe, possibly, more anxious than he'd ever been.

They were on their way to Davey's parents house, with the intention of spending the entire of Hanukkah there. Jack wasn't Jewish, but after so many years of knowing Davey and being welcomed into his family he was fairly familiar with their traditions. And, really, none of that should have made him anxious in the slightest - because he knew Davey's family. He loved the Jacobs, and they loved him. Davey had already made several comments about how excited Les would be to hang out with Jack (the kid practically idolized him) and he and Sarah were good friends, despite the fact that she was dating Jack's sort of ex-girlfriend. (They were fine, though. The break up was mutual, and Katherine and him were still close.) Davey's parents were happy to have him, they always had been from the minute he had befriended Davey back in high school. And he wasn't an anxious driver like Davey. Actually, driving came naturally to him, just like painting. So there was no reason for him to be so stressed.

Except he was. And maybe there was a small, minuscule, barely-there reason. For example, the fact that it had only been a week since Jack had realized that he was in love with his best friend, AKA the guy seated next to him passionately singing along to Paper Rings. Jack wanted to lean over and kiss him senseless, to hell with safe driving. He did not do that, obviously, but the thought was there, and it made him anxious.

They had been watching some Hallmark Christmas movie together on the couch when it happened. They both adored those stupid films, entertaining themselves by making comments and jokes, criticizing every action each character took. The main protagonist in the movie they'd been watching had done something particularly idiotic, and Jack made a comment about how it was dumber than that time Race and Albert has decided to test out whether their tongues would actually stick to a frozen pole. Davey has burst out laughing, spilling some the popcorn out of the bowl that had been resting on his lap. Jack looked over with a smug smile, proud of his joke, but it fell away quickly. Watching as Davey laughed, the light from the TV screen illuminating his face, took Jack's breath away. He looked so...so.... beautiful. And then that was all he could think about, just how fucking gorgeous Davey Jacobs was. Davey seemed none the wiser to Jack's heart-stopping epiphany. But Jack was suddenly hyper aware of how close they were sitting, sharing the same blanket and eating popcorn out of the same bowl, legs touching. He couldn't get himself to pay attention to the rest of the movie, his breath hitching each time Davey moved. Davey fell asleep only a little bit after the next movie started, his head falling on Jack's shoulder.

Jack wanted to run to the window, open it, and scream endlessly into the abyss of the night sky. He could not have a crush on Davey, of all people. Not after all these years of strictly platonic feelings. Except, maybe they hadn't been. The longer he sat there with Davey's head on his shoulder, the more he realized just how long he had been harboring feelings for his roommate. And, with that, came the realization that those feelings were not simply a crush.

So as Davey laughed his way through songs and the snow steadily began to pick up, Jack was extremely anxious. He didn't know how to act around Davey anymore. Try as he might, nothing he said or did felt right. Nothing felt normal. Davey could tell something was off, Jack knew he could, but he was merciful enough to leave it be. Jack joined him in singing along with a Mumford & Sons song, hoping that he didn't look as distraught as he felt. More than anything, he was terrified that Katherine and Sarah would see right through him. They would know.

They were about an hour into the drive when Jack started to grow worried about the snow. The windshield wipers were working like crazy, and they could only see so far ahead of the car. Davey, ever the sensible one, unplugged Jack's phone and switched to a radio channel announcing weather reports. The radio anchor's voice filled the car, somewhat disrupted (which Jack assumed was due to the storm they were driving through).

"No one could have predicted this blizzard!" The guy said, sounding cheerful. Davey and Jack exchanges worried glances, but kept quiet so they could keep listening. "Due to the poor visibility out on the roads, all drivers are being urged to find somewhere to park or pullover, and hopefully make it inside."

"Great," Jack quipped sarcastically, trying to sound unfazed. Davey whipped out his phone, presumably looking up places near them that they could go. Without thinking, Jack reached over and grabbed his hand, squeezing it reassuringly. The last thing he wanted was Davey having a panic attack because of the snow. Jack was a good enough driver, and it wasn't as if they were driving in the middle of nowhere - there was bound to be somewhere they could go. Davey shot him a grateful look before returning his gaze to his phone, sitting up straighter within a few seconds.

"Okay, at the next light we come to turn right. There's a diner not too far down the road and the website says they're open." Jack nodded in affirmation, slowing to a stop at the red light as he turned on his turn signal. The turn itself was bit bumpy, their tires slipping a little on the snow. Davey drew in a sharp breath and his hand shot out to grip tightly onto Jack's arm. Jack hated how his heart skipped a beat at the contact.

The diner in question came into view rather quickly, a warm yellow and red sign composed of neon lights informing them that it was called Frank's. Jack pulled into the parking lot fairly easily, parking in the closest spot to the building available. There was only two other cars in the small lot, so they assumed they wouldn't be getting too much company while they were there. They both zipped up their jackets all the way and did everything they could to cover every inch of themselves to stay protected from the cold. Davey took a deep breath and then looked over at Jack.

"Okay," he said, muffled due to the fact that the bottom of his face was tucked into the neck of his coat. "Let's do this."

They opened their respective car doors and jumped out as quick as they could, slamming the doors behind them as they made a break for the entrance to the building. They burst through doors panting with a gust of wind right behind them. A girl around their age, maybe a little older, looked up from where she stood behind the counter, drinking from a mug. She raised an eyebrow at them with a somewhat amused grin.

"Suppose you boys are looking for somewhere to escape the storm?" She asked, a slight drawl in her voice that made it sound like she had grown up in the south. Jack nodded in response, flexing his hands to try and bring some warmth into his hands. "Well, take any table you like," she instructed. "I'll go grab you some menus." She retreated through a door to what Jack assumed was the kitchen in the back. He followed Davey's lead to a booth by the windows, sliding into the seat opposite him.

"Damn," he sighed, looking out at the snow. "Guess we're gonna be late." Davey let out a very unattractive snort that Jack should not have found endearing in the slightest (except he did).

"Yeah, I'd say so," Davey smiled. The girl returned then, saving Jack from getting too lost in Davey's eyes. Now that she was out from behind the counter, heading toward their booth with menus in hand, he could see that she was wearing a yellow 50s style uniform. It was cute and, as he looked around, he realized that it matched the aesthetic of the rest of the diner as well. There was a jukebox against one of the walls and photos and posters from the 50s scattered through the place. Jack was filled with the urge to sketch it, but all of the art supplies he had brought with him were back in the car.

When the waitress reached their table she laid the menus out in front of them and Jack was able to read on her name tag that her name was Maria.

"Alright, so right now we're technically serving the lunch menu," she pointed to the middle section of Davey's menu, "but we serve breakfast all day, and if y'all want something from the dinner menu, that's fine. Not like we're getting much other business today." She shrugged with an easy smile. "Can I start you off with some drinks? Normally I'd recommend the milkshakes but, well..." she gesture out the window and Jack gave a little laugh. She smiled sweetly at him in response.

"You know what?" He asked. "I'll still take a milkshake. Black and white, please."

"And for you, doll?" She turned Davey. Jack watched as his cheeks tinted pink at the nickname and simultaneously wanted to tease him and tell Maria to back off (not that he had any right to do that, but he wanted to be the one making Davey blush).

"I'll have a Oreo milkshake, please," he spoke quietly.

"Sure thing," she grinned at the both of them. "They'll be right out."

They sat in silence for a few moments, simply enjoying the peaceful atmosphere of the diner. Jack watched Davey's face as the other man gazed at the falling snow with an almost childlike wonder. He had always known that Davey was the out-of-this-world type beautiful, even from the first moment he saw him - but what he hadn't realized was that, overtime, those foreign elements of beauty had instead become familiar and comforting, giving him a new type of artistry. His eyes, once mysterious, were now read as easily as a book. He hadn't realized how long he had simply been ogling at Davey until Maria came back with their shakes in hand.

"Here ya go," she grinned, setting their glasses down in front of them. Her smile turned sheepish as they both grinned back at her. "Would y'all mind if I just hung out in the kitchen for now? My girlfriend's back there making food for us." A warm feeling bloomed in Jack's chest. No matter how old he got, he didn't think he would ever get past the joy that came with hearing someone else talk so casually about not being straight.

"It's no problem at all," Davey said at the same time as Jack opened his mouth to say "Of course."

"Thank you," Maria beamed. "If y'all need anything you have full permission to go into the kitchen." With that, she was practically skipping off.

"Well, that was nice" Davey chuckled softly. Jack focused on his milkshake so as not to find himself captivated by the way Davey's face had softened at the mention of the waitress's girlfriend.

__________

They'd been at the diner for a few hours, talking and playing games to pass the time. They hadn't seen a lot of Maria, but they had met her girlfriend, Abigail, who had greeted them with one of the biggest, friendliest smiles Jack had ever seen.

"Okay, so," Jack began. "In the future, would you rather there be flying cards or actual hoverboards like in Back to the Future?" Davey, who was laying on one of the booth seat with his head hanging upside down facing Jack laying in a booth opposite him, tilted his head with a questioning look on his face.

"Are there hoverboards in Back to the Future?" He asked. Jack took a pause to think.

"Pretty sure, yeah. 'S been a while since I've seen it."

"I don't think I've watched it since I was a kid and my parents showed it to me and Sarah."

"We're getting off topic here, Dave." Davey's cheeks went rosy in response to the nickname and Jack grinned.

"Alright, I suppose I'd want flying cars," Davey finally answered.

"Why?"

"I'd probably fall off of a hoverboard, to be honest." Jack burst out laughing at his answer, and Davey smiled at him when he did.

"Oh, you definitely would!" Jack giggled. "You'd call right on your face, oh my god!" Davey sat up to grab a napkin of the table before crumbling it up and throwing it at Jack. It hit him right on the forehead and his laughter only increased in volume, Davey joining in.

"Okay, okay," Davey heaved, still catching his breath. "In the future." Jack motioned for him to continue, still slightly laughing. "In the future, how many kids do you want?"

"Not sure I want any really, not when I'm basically already a father for all of the boys," Jack smirked. Davey smiled fondly at him.

"Don't think that's gonna work," Davey chuckled. "I've already got tons of baby name options for us." He smiled at Jack, all bright eyes and messy hair and flushed cheeks with the snowy world in the window behind him and just from looking at it Jack could tell it was so, so cold but Davey was right there and he was nothing but warmth.

Us.

Jack couldn't breath.

And Davey was still just sat there, smiling at him like he hadn't just sent Jack's heart running directly out of his chest.

"Us?" He finally managed to ask, voice barely even a whisper. Davey's smile dropped and his blush deepened, his eyes immediately leaving Jack's face in favor of staring at the wall to his right. "David," Jack tried again, voice a little bit stronger. "What did you by 'us'?" Davey glanced quickly at him before looking away again as if his life depended on it.

"I just-" He started, but his voice gave out on him slightly and he paused to breath, and then gulped in a cartoonish way that Jack would have teased him about at any other time. "Whenever I think about the future, I think about us. Together." Davey's face was red to a concerning degree and his hands were shaking and fidgeting in a way that made it clear to Jack that his anxiety was kicking in at full force. But Jack wasn't supposed to be someone that Davey got anxious around, he was supposed to be the one who kept Davey grounded, who held his hand when he needed a physical anchor and counted his breaths for him. Davey was sat there, all bright eyes and messy hair and flushed cheeks. He was beautiful and familiar and warm and he was home. And Jack was so unbelievably irreversibly in love with him.

Davey opened his mouth to start speaking again, but before he even got the chance Jack had crossed the space between their opposite booths and had practically tackled him down into the cushioned booth seat.

Kissing Davey was easy. Kissing Davey was breathtaking and warm and fuzzy and happy. Kissing Davey was all Jack had wanted to do for years, even if he hadn't known it. And Davey was kissing him back. Davey was grabbing his shoulders and his hair and pulling closer and Jack could kiss him for the rest of time and never grow tired of it. They were in the middle of a blizzard in a 50s themed diner, laying down tangled up in one of the booths, and it wasn't where Jack had pictured it happening. In all of his daydreams, he'd never pictured where they would end up - where it would happen. But when they pulled apart and they were both panting and Davey beamed up after him with a look of pure elation Jack didn't even give it a second thought before saying it.

“I'm in love with you."

Davey's smile only widened as he pulled Jack in for another kiss.

"I'm in love with you too, you dork." Jack laughed and then so did Davey and everything felt so absolutely right. They spent the rest of their time in the diner cuddled up in that booth, talking quietly with flushed cheeks and ecstatic smiles.

When the storm cleared enough for it to be safe to get back on the road, they bid Maria and Abigail a cheerful goodbye. The car ride the rest of the way to Davey's parents' house was charged with a new type of energy. They debated whether or not to tell everyone right away, given they had quite literally just gotten together, and decided against saying anything immediately - if only because they wanted to see whether Sarah or Katherine would figure it out first.

And, despite his normal anxiousness on the road, Davey held Jack's hand the whole time.

_________

taglist:

@isarants @tomanybandstolove @seriously-ceci @bens-platt @earlyjunes @broadway-trashh @interwebseriesfan24 @returnoftheborle @cozykleinman @timesarehardfornewsies @jackclyde @last-an-eon @annabethgranger123 @musi-xals @notyouraveragegryffindoor @magic-made-by-melody @i-also-miss-our-talks

@linfuckingmirandaaa @shatteringinprogress @storytellersun @psych-stereo @books-cats-sprinkles @me-andthe-sky @connor-is-my-sunshine @merediths2003 @papesfordavey @larryisinfactnotstraight @casifer-is-cute @gem-evieve @actually-lizzy @broadwayobsessedteen @majo16199 @sarkitsm @suffering-bi @tommy-braccoli @starryrevelations @woolfhrd @thesleepingandthedead @cruelnatalie @bencookisagod

#javid #jack kelly x davey jacobs #newsies #javid fic #newsies fic #bambi can kinda write

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bobbyischill · 5 years ago

Text

My Relationship With Andi Mack

Two years ago, when I was in 10th grade, my GSA advisor was telling me and a friend about a Disney Channel show. She hadn’t watched it yet, but apparently one of the main characters had just come out as gay! I was really happy for Disney and glad that queer kids all over the world had someone like them to look up to. However, I, a 15 year old, a mature teenager, wouldn’t really enjoy a kids show, right? So I went about the rest of my day without giving it a second thought....

Until I went home and opened up Tumblr. One of the first posts I saw was someone giving props to Disney for making such a diverse, inclusive show that was actually GOOD. They said it reminded them of Girl Meets World, except it was a million times better and diverse. Okay fine, I thought. I guess I’ll check out Andi Mack. (BOOYY I HAD A BIG STORM COMING)

I opened up my iPad around 10:30pm and decided to watch an episode or two, depending on how tired I was. After the very first episode, I recognized that this show was special. Like, REALLY special. The characters were fleshed out and unique. There was the “twist” about Bex being Andi’s mom. The friendships and relationships felt real. I knew I was going to binge the whole show that night.

That night, as I continued on with the show, I fell in love with each one of them. They all had their own quirks, they were all nuanced. I fell in love with how competitive, protective to a fault, and caring Buffy was. I fell in love with how awkward and goofy and relatable Cyrus was. I fell in love with how kind and oblivious Jonah was. I fell in love with how hard-working and funny Andi was, and how much she cared about certain things and the people around her. I fell in love with the dynamics between certain characters and how they were always changing. I loved how it tackled racism in school (Buffy had to change her hair or be sent home), how unfair dress codes are to students (especially girls), how you need to take a stand for what you believe in (the prison uniforms), and how stepping out of your comfort zone is a good thing, even if you get hurt (Andi watching a horror movie and being terrified, but not regretting it). This was all in the first season.

This show already meant so much to me. And then Cyrus looked back at Jonah. In the words of Jonah Beck, “I cried”. Just that hint of representation was more than I had ever scene on Disney or any other show marketed to kids.

And then Cyrus came out to Buffy. I, a pansexual who was out to my friends but not any of my family and who still struggled with intense internalized homophobia, burst into tears. I related to how ashamed and afraid Cyrus looked. I needed to hear Buffy’s heartfelt response. “You may be weird, but you’re no different.” That phrase was constantly bouncing through my head for at least the next few days (and if I’m being honest, it still is). I wrote it all over my notes and assignments because it was literally all I could think about for such a long time. I saw the sign on the wall that said “G: for General Audiences.” That showed me that Disney (or at least Terri Minsky, my queen) truly felt that I wasn’t a freak. I didn’t need to hide my identity from anyone if I didn’t want to. My identity wasn’t a mature subject; it was for general audiences. (Also, I just want to add that Sofia and Josh’s acting in this scene was absolutely fantastic. It was so raw and emotional, and it still makes me cry every time I see it.)

And then in that same episode Cyrus and Buffy talked about his crush on Jonah. They did it so casually, and my mind was blown. At this point, I had honestly never seen so much gay representation in a show as this.

That night, I stayed up until 5am. I was rewatched Cyrus’s coming out scene about 10 times. I fangirled about it on Tumblr. I added “Tomorrow Starts Today” to my Spotify playlist. I even wrote a diary entry about it. (I only write in my diary when I’m feeling very intense emotions that I need to write down in order to figure out.)

The next day at school, I told all my Gay Friends about Andi Mack and how amazing it was. A few of them got into it, and it was fun talking to them about it, but after a while I was pretty heavily hyperfixated on it and I needed more. And I felt like I was bothering my followers with constant posts about how much I loved Andi Mack. So I made this blog. @cyrus-made-tshirts. I haven’t changed the name since. That’s how I became an official part of the friendom.

I love this fandom. I don’t even know many people personally or have made many friends through it, but this fandom was everything to me. I loved the posts, the crackhead theories, josh’s account. I loved the crackships, the real ships, the overanalyzing of every line, of every movement, of every promo. I loved watching the reactions on YouTube. I loved making posts about the show and having hundreds of people relate to it or find it funny, especially the gay ones. My very first post to get more than 50 notes was one about how Miranda and Bex would make a cute couple (this was before Miranda was revealed to be a snake.)

For the past year and a half, Andi Mack has been my life. I have survived the many ship wars. I have survived the months-long hiatuses. I have survived the ominous tweets and posts Josh has made and the frenzy of panicking everywhere that followed it. And I have loved every minute of it.

I’ve seen these characters I love grow up before my eyes. They’ve all changed and evolved and matured so much. There’s so much more representation since I started watching the show. There’s a character with a learning disability, characters with anxiety, a homeless character, a deaf character. There’s been multiple episodes celebrating Jewish and Chinese culture. I’ve seen Cyrus go from nervously nodding in agreement that he liked a boy to unprovokingly telling his friend he liked that boy to flat-out telling his ex-crush he is gay to holding hands with his crush in public. I’ve seen all of Cyrus’s friends support him unconditionally. I’ve seen him find his happily ever after (for middle school, at least).

And then the last episode aired. I knew I was never going to be prepared for it, but HOLY SHIT, it’s over. And the finale was like a fanfiction it was so good. I watched it live on Thursday night at midnight. I freaked out about it online for three hours, then watched it on Disney Now. I pulled an all-nighter because I just kept rewatching it online until Friday night, when I watched it air on Disney. The way Cyrus and TJ sang Born This Way with the rest of the characters cured my depression, cleared my skin, and watered my crops. The bench scene was so fucking beautiful and romantic it caused me to hyperventilate. The acting from both Luke and Josh was incredible. Honestly, Luke crushed it the entire time as TJ and the bench scene was the icing on top. This scene meant more to met than some people could ever know.

A couple months ago, I was in a pretty shit place emotionally and mentally. Literally the only thing stopping me from killing myself was the guilt of leaving my friends and family behind. I needed another reason to stay, something to keep me grounded. And that reason became Andi Mack. I promised myself I would live to see the day Tyrus became canon. And I did it. I’m in a much better place now, and I’m not going to do anything stupid now that Tyrus has become canon (TYRUS HAS BECOME CANON!!! AAKDBEISSHSB I STILL HAVENT PROCESSED THAT YET!!!!). But at the time, I really needed Andi Mack to help me keep fighting. And it was there for me. And I will always be indebted to it for my life.

This show has helped me in so many other ways. It’s helped me drastically reduce my internalized homophobia. It’s given me a community of people that understand me. It’s created so many characters that I love. So thank you to Terri Minsky for creating this show and amazing characters that I will love forever. Thank you to Disney for funding it and not completely censoring it. Thank you to the crew for working tirelessly to make this happen. Thank you to Peyton, Emily, Asher, Josh, Luke, Lilan, Trent, Garren, Sofia, and every other actor for pouring their heart into this show. A special thank you to Josh and Luke for making me feel safe and loved and for caring so much about their story arcs. (And their political activism is pretty awesome, too.)

I’m really going to miss screaming about this show with you guys. I really hope that some people keep creating fanart and fanfics and keep making memes and crackships. I hope the friendom never dies. Because every one of you is so special and fun to hang out with online. And I’m really gonna miss it. And now I’m crying, and this is getting WAYYY too long, so I’m gonna stop talking now lmao. But I want to say this show has changed me in so many ways and I’m grateful to every single person involved, including the amazing friendom. I’ll love you all forever. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

#andi mack #thank you #thank you so much andi mack #my relationship with andi mack #personal

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ecofinisher · 5 years ago

Text

The Adventures of Super Nathan 2 - Chap. 24

Chapter 24

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13243294/24/Miraculous-The-Adventures-of-Super-Nathan-2

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18224606/chapters/47947354

https://www.wattpad.com/771601108-miraculous-the-adventures-of-super-nathan-2

In the apartment of Nathaniel’s mother, the redhead sat inside his room in front of his desk in front of his laptop with a digitalized comic site, where Nathaniel was inserting a bubble over the character of Super Nathan while on his bed next to the desk lied Lila typing on her smartphone a message to somebody.

“I feel like doing everything by hand is easier, than with this app” Nathaniel complained falling back on his chair tensed. “I’ve spent an hour on that and I only finished four pages. By hand, I would have finished 10 by now”

“Come on Nathy, don’t be so stern with yourself. You still need to practice with using it. With the time you’ll get better and you’ll be faster” Lila said turning herself around, then sat up on the bed gazing at the boyfriend. “Why don’t you look up for tutorials to see, how to manage it?” Suggested Lila.

“They’re too long, I don’t want to waste my time in only watching them”

“You’re weird,” Lila said with a chuckle. “How are you supposed to know it, without help”

“Well I can always ask Max or Mr. Ross,” Nathaniel said getting up from his chair to sit on the bed next to Lila. “They sure know it better than me”

“And you don’t mind waste your time with them, hein?” Lila asked making Nathaniel frown, afterwards, Lila started to laugh.

“Today you feel funny,” Nathaniel said glancing neutral at the girl, then she placed her arm behind the boy’s back to give him a peck on his cheeks.

“Sorry, it just sounded weird to me” Lila apologized followed by passing with her left hand under the bang over his right eye to see his light turquoise eyes shining at her, making her smile amorously and lean her face to Nathaniel’s to go for a long kiss. Nathaniel placed his arms behind Lila’s followed by the girl grabbing the boy on his shoulders to help herself up to sit on her boyfriend’s lap, while they continued snogging. Nathaniel lied down on the side of the bed with Lila over him, while the two kept smooching on the mattress, short moments later Nathaniel threw Lila quickly to the other side of his bed now lying over her, this causing her girlfriend joy, which moaned under her breath as he showing his dominant side. Lila grabbed the jacket over its collar pulling it down from Nathaniel’s body, then Nathaniel stopped with the necking and got up to get rid of his jacket, then as he turned around at Lila she grabbed him by his orange T-shirt to continue their job. Nathaniel placed his arms under Lila’s back to search for the zipper of Lila’s romper, soon as he started to pull it down carefully, Nathaniel shrieked and looked back at the closed room door and looked back at Lila, which had just opened the belt of Nathaniel’s pants.

“My mother is coming” Nathaniel mentioned, then Lila looked at the door waiting for it to open, but nothing happened. “But….I thought I heard footsteps”

“Perhaps you just have imagined it”

“I don’t know, maybe” Responded Nathaniel a little frightened. “I’m afraid if we would get caught”

“We both know exactly, when our parents come home, if you think she’s coming soon, then we better not do anything”

“Actually, she’s only home at 6’40 pm during this week’s shift. She still has got an half of hour, until she’s home”

“Well, if you want we still can do it” Lila mentioned crossing her arms over his chest, followed by lying her chin over them to gaze at her boyfriend.

“S...sure. I think it’s going to work out” Nathaniel agreed making Lila smirk and plant her lips on his to continue their job, soon as Lila placed her hands on Nathaniel’s pants to unzip them the door behind them slowly opened up and it was Miss Kurtzberg, which was distracted by her smartphone as she was at the moment talking with somebody.

“Fuck…...” Nathaniel replied shocked as he saw his mother standing there upside down, then Lila looked up too, then back at Nathaniel, which shrugged his shoulder at seeing his mother earlier home.

“Sure I can go this Sunday instead and have free on Thursday, that’s no problem….Thank you, Au revoir” Miss Kurtzberg said pressing the red button on the display and look down at his son lying down under the girlfriend. “What are you two exactly doing?” Miss Kurtzberg questioned the two lovebirds, which rolled the eyes at each other in confusion.

“I just discovered Nathaniel is very ticklish under his arms” Lila claimed making Nathaniel raise his head up looking confused at the girl.

“No, I’m not….” Nathaniel corrected, then shrieked as Lila stuck her arms under his armpits, starting to tickle him making him jerk off and push his arms closer to his body, trying to clamp Lila’s hands. “Stop, stop, stop!” Nathaniel ordered starting to laugh a bit.

“You know Nathaniel is nearly ticklish everywhere, but the place he’s most ticklish of is….”

“Don’t say it mom, don’t do it” Nathaniel pleaded gazing up at his mother with puppy eyes, then Lila pulled her arms down slowly passing beside his body, then wide her eyes figuring out, what place he might be the most ticklish.

“I think I already found it out,” Lila said placing her hands on the sides of his belly, starting to tickle him, causing him to laugh out more than before.

“No! How did you find out!” Nathaniel complained while laughing, causing much fun to Lila and Miss Kurtzberg, which observed the two. “Please stop it, I can’t take it anymore!” Nathaniel ordered trying to take Lila’s arms away, then she stopped by herself laughing at her boyfriend, which got up looking annoyed at her. Moments later Nathaniel couldn’t stay any more mad at her and joined her laughing, then between the two sat Miss Kurtzberg placing her arms around the two.

“I know, what you two where about to" Miss Kurtzberg said looking at her son, which had his zipper open, then he quickly zipped it up, grinning embarrassed at the mother. "There’s no need to come up with an excuse for that. You two are old enough and aware of the protection, right?” Miss Kurtzberg said looking at Lila, which looked down a little abashed.

“I’m sorry Miss Kurtzberg, I didn’t want, that Nathaniel could get in trouble or something”

“I know my son very well and I know, he’s a fine and well educated man” Miss Kurtzberg said caressing the son on his head.

“Mom, please don’t do that, I’m 17 not 10 anymore”

“So does this mean I can’t do that to you anymore?” Lila pouted making Nathaniel wide his eyes in shock.

“What?” Asked Nathaniel. “No, of course, you can do it and my mother too, but not when we’re all in the same bed….I mean room!”

“I was just teasing you, don’t worry Nathy,” Lila said laying her cheek on his shoulder.

“I should have known it,” Nathaniel said placing his arm around Lila’s back. Lila’s phone vibrated, which was on the bed next to the two teens and Lila picked it up to see two messages from Kagami and one from Luka, one from their private chat box and the others from the superhero group chat.

“Friday would be lit. Adrien is on that day in Bordeaux for a photoshoot” Came from Kagami’s private chatbox.

“We need to roll out, there’s some hairy weredog or werewolf-thingy out on the streets running accompanied by some stray dogs. We got to check that out” Luka texted the group and the next text came from Kagami, which replied to his comment.

“I’m at Rose’s house to give her a book back. Where did you see that animal?” Kagami commented.

“Nathy, I have to go,” Lila said showing him the messages, then another message came in from Luka.

“Sure and if Juleka is there, can any of you girls make sure she comes home safe?”

“I can bring her to Marinette instead, so she isn’t all alone” Rose suggested receiving a thumb up from the raven-haired boy.

“Okay I stay, but if you need help I’ll come” Nathaniel promised earning a nod from Lila, which gave him a kiss on his lips.

“Oh Miss Kurtzberg I wish I could stay any longer, but I need to go back home, there’s a dinner at the embassy and my mother wants me to accompany her”

“That’s no problem, Lila. Do you want me to bring you home?” Questioned the raven-haired woman.

“Thank you Miss Kurtzberg, but I’m fine. Our driver is here in the near in a garage to give our SUV a check-up.” Lila made up earning a nod from the woman.

“Alright, our door is always open for you to come,” Miss Kurtzberg said giving the girl her hand. “You know we appreciate you”

“I do Miss Kurtzberg, thank you,” Lila said giving the woman a hug, making Nathaniel smile at the sight of his mother and Lila’s bound. “Bye,” Lila said leaving the room, heading to the exit and Nathaniel looked up at his mother, which copied his movement.

“My dear boy. I hope you won’t ever let that girl go” The mother said earning a nod from Nathaniel, then he had an idea and took his smartphone from his pocket and searched on the internet for something, then showed it to the woman. “What is this….oh is that Jagged Stone?” “Yeah” Responded Nathaniel with a nod. “Lila was present at this concert and loved it so much, mostly because of Jagged proposing Penny Rolling at some part of it.”

“Yes….oh you want to propose Lila like that too?” Questioned Miss Kurtzberg watching the singer in the video go down to his knees and take from his jacket a box out.

“Not exactly like that, cause I can’t sing,” Nathaniel responded. “But I want it to be special, I want, that my proposal kicks her out of her boots and that she accepts it”

“She’s definitely going to accept it, no matter if it is perfect or not”

“Right I think she will,” Nathaniel said, then remembered something important. “Wait another question. You know, she’s not Jewish nor am I Christian. We still can marry, right?”

“Of course dear, one of you must most likely to convert into the other religion, so you could marry at the church or the traditional Jewish way”

“So we have to discuss that somehow?”

“You can do that after the proposal. You still need time for the one of you two to take care of it and also to organize a wedding date, create invitations and lots more”

“Okay, sounds like a lot of work”

“It is, but don’t worry if you two are going to follow the Jewish traditions, I and grandpa are going to love to help you out”

“That’s great, mom,” Nathaniel said, then Miss Kurtzberg ruffled her son’s hair, without him complaining about it.

“Oh you really don’t say anything, when Lila’s not here”

“Oh mom,” Nathaniel said shaking his head, then he gave his mother a hug, which she gladly accepted, followed by pecking him on the forehead.

At the avenue, which is connected with the traffic circle of the arc de Triomphe Furrytail walked along the road followed by several cats, dogs and smaller pets passing by several vehicles, that had stopped and observed in fright the akumatized villain followed by the animals going to the other side.

“See how everyone is glad to see you all here, my friends. Soon you all will be able to live free and wild in Paris, without having to worry about food or vaccinations, cause the Parisians will have to do it as long as I’m under command.” Furrytail told the pets behind him which barked and meowed at the promise of the villain.

Over the crowd a black drone passed over the mythical-themed creature, which noticed it and jumped at it grabbing it, so he could look for the camera on it, then he discovered a smartphone attached to the drone.

“Is that the little Miss Vixen blog?” Asked the dark-colored akuma villain. “I have a message for all Parisians and one for the superheroes. Dear Parisians I have an order for all of you to prepare every day, three times a day 10 kilos of pet food per household for my dear strays to get feed with. The vet institutes are responsible for the vaccinations of my furry friends to be up to date and when they’re sick or need to be checked up to do so. Otherwise, all of the animals are free and can do, whatever they want. For further information, I’ll keep you updated ASAP. And for the superheroes…I’m awaiting you here at the arc de Triomphe and I know you have to do it anyway, cause first….you need to take me down and also….” Furrytail said turning the drone around to show in the back four dogs pulling a four-wheeled cart, where the Parisian mayor lied all tied up and with his mouth covered with a dog bandana.

“Make it quick, cause I don’t think he’s going to stay with me for so long on the arc” Furrytail directed with a smirk, then threw the drone up, nearly colliding with a post. Furrytail clapped his front paws on each other, then looked up at the monument afterwards he glanced back at the dogs, that carried the mayor and nodded at the dogs, which ran along with Furrytail at the roundabout, then the akuma villain took the leash from behind his back and threw it at a statue, that was chiseled at the monument and swung up in the air, landing on the edge of the arc, then he spun the leash again to catch the square-cube on the corner of the arc de Triomphe, after that he checked if the whip was fastened on the roof, afterward he used it to climb up to the roof.

As he was on the top, he threw the whip again like a lasso to grab the mayor to pull him up the bridge while he mumbled under the band for help.

“Don’t worry Monsieur Bourgeois, the superheroes will be here. It’s just a matter of time” The mythical creature assured with a smirk as he pulled the man slowly up.

“What do we got here?” A voice said and Furrytail pushed the president quick at the edge of the platform of the building and looked around to see, who spoke at him, then saw Lady Red being carried by Honey Bee and the yellow-colored heroine dropped the taller heroine down at the top, then landed beside her.

“Ah who do we have here,” Furrytail said glancing surprised at the two females. “Lady Red and Honey Bee”

“Let the mayor down or you have to deal with us!” Honey Bee demanded earning a nod from the villain.

“Sure, why not” Furrytail insisted unlocking the leash from the mayor, putting the women in shock as the mayor felt down.

“That’s not, what I said!” Honey Bee yelled, then saw the mayor appear on the end of the monument again and they saw Miss Vixen had caught the man.

“Good afternoon everyone” Miss Vixen greeted. “I think this way of traveling isn’t adequate according to the law, right mayor?”

“Mmmmh” The mayor mumbled, then Miss Vixen dropped the man on the top of the monument and uncovered his mouth.

“Can I get down of here?” Questioned the mayor nervous.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea as long as this mutt is here controlling them” “Who do you call a mutt?” Asked Furrytail glaring at Miss Vixen.

“Oh are you a pure breed?” Asked Miss Vixen teasingly, then Furrytail took his whip and swung it in the air yelling like a madman, then threw it at Miss Vixen and she jumped up in the air to dodge the whip, afterward she landed behind him and Furrytail aimed Miss Vixen again, while crying and hit Miss Vixen on her butt, causing her to yelp.

“Hey, who gave you the right to smack my ass like that?” Miss Vixen asked angrily, then Miss Vixen’s mouth and nose turned into a snout, seconds later her face turned into a fox head and in the end, her whole anatomy had disappeared and now Miss Vixen wasn’t herself anymore, but a middle-sized Redfox.

“What happened?” Asked Miss Vixen as she was on her four on the ground, then lifted her front paw and shrieked as she discovered, she had got transformed into a vixen. “Don’t think, that just because you got rid of me, that I can’t fight like Miss Vixen”

“We’ll see about that” Furrytail said and from under the arc, Viperion showed up landing beside Honey Bee, surprising Furrytail. “Oh another superhero”

“Yeah and this superhero doesn’t like it when villains mess with his friends,” Viperion said taking his lyre from behind his back.

“That is to be expected”

“Honey Bee, take off to the sky and prepare your tromp” Lady Red ordered Honey Bee, which took off in the sky.

“Be careful,” Lady Red said as Furrytail again was yelling and swinging his whip around him. Viperion pointed with his index and middle finger at his own eye and at Furrytail, signing Lady Red to keep an eye on him and as the villain launched his whip up at Honey Bee at the exact moment Lady Red aimed her yo-yo at the supervillain wrapping him around his arms causing his arms to be pressed closer to his body.

“Hey!” Furrytail growled glaring at Lady Red, which smiled cheeky at the villain. Furrytail tried to use his tails to enter between his back and the thread of the yo-yo, to free himself. Meanwhile the fox Miss Vixen ran towards the akuma villain, then jumped against the tails biting the first one, that came in her way causing the villain to cry in pain and shake his tail to get rid of Miss Vixen, which kept holding the tail.

“You’re not going anywhere” Miss Vixen mumbled.

“Viperion do you think you can get the whip out of his hands?” Asked Lady Red, then Miss Vixen flew away off Furrytail’s end towards the deep of the ground, shrieking the superheroes and Honey Bee quickly flew behind Miss Vixen catching her before she smashed on the bottom.

“Rose, be careful!” Miss Vixen warned as Furrytail stood on the end of the monument gazing down at the two, then he looked back again to see Lady Red along with Viperion ready to fight.

“Oh you two are fast,” Furrytail said while Viperion pulled the small snakehead on his miraculous back to set a checkpoint for a respawn.

“You should have kept that for later” Lady Red informed the superhero partner.

“My heart said right now” Viperion declared, then looked at Furrytail using his whip again as a lasso, then Viperion jumped towards Furrytail, which had stepped aside to avoid the hero caught him.

“Missed me” Furrytail announced victorious, then Lady Red threw her yo-yo towards him trying to hit him with it and the villain defended himself with his whip as she tried to fight him and both of their weapons got tangled at each other. “Crap!”

“Oh oh,” Lady Red replied trying to pull her yo-yo off his whip, while he tried to do the same.

The two had got changed back into their previous positions, including Viperion, which stood again back next to Lady Red staring along with the heroine at the villain, which started to spin his whip like a lasso in the air, then Viperion took his lyre and threw it against Furrytail’s body, causing him to fall down and the two superheroes ran at the edge of the monument to see a crowd of strays come closer to the wall to soften the landing of their leader.

“Lucky guy,” Viperion said, then saw Miss Vixen grab with her fangs on the whip of the villain trying to push it away from him. The other strays joined their leader by pushing it away from Miss Vixen, then a great dog bit Miss Vixen on the neck, causing her to whine. Furrytail smirked as the heroine was bitten, then he felt the other dogs pulling on his whip and he tried to take it off them, but they kept pulling the leash away from the leader as if they were playing with him.

“I need this now, we play later!” The villain ordered while the dogs kept playing with him.

“Miss Vixen!” Shouted Honey Bee, then walked away slowly as several other dogs and cats surrounded her at the wall near the villain.

“You were right all along. I should have waited with my superpower” Viperion said disappointed.

“It’s fine, I try out my lucky charm. Maybe we’ve got luck”

“Good, I’m going to help Miss Vixen,” Viperion said jumping down, landing in the middle of the bunch of strays, then grabbed the dog on the snout, which growled louder as Viperion tried to help Miss Vixen.

“Bite him!” Yelped Miss Vixen, then Viperion flinched and bite the tall dog on his ear hard enough, causing him to yelp and let Miss Vixen fall down on the ground. Viperion let the dog go, then grabbed Miss Vixen and used his lyre to warn the animals to not get closer to him.

“Where’s Lady Red?” Asked Miss Vixen look up at the arc de triumph, where the heroine activated her lucky charm to get her special object.

“What did you got?” Asked Viperion and Lady Red saw a big hose on her hand and she showed it to him. “A hosepipe?”

“Do you know, how to open the hydrant?” Asked Viperion loud making Lady Red shrug her shoulders.

Lady Red looked down at all the animals around the arc de Triomphe, then observed all the dogs and cats reunited and Lady Red felt pressured, that she couldn’t figure out, what she should do with the hose.

“Get down here Lady Red, I think I know, what we can do” Viperion yelled at the superheroine, which nodded then she took her yo-yo and threw it at a post at the other side of the road and swung down passing over the strays while stretching her legs forward to avoid to hit any of them, then she landed on the sidewalk with the hose on her other arm. A couple of dogs and cats ran at Lady Red, which walked reverse back at a building behind her, then she heard a car pulling the handbrake during the ride and Lady Red looked at the side along with the animals to see from the avenue, which leads to the Eiffel tower a white fish selling van show up heading at the roundabout and it stopped near Lady Red.

“Did someone say fish?” Asked a voice opening from the side the door up and lock it to avoid it to get closed.

“Super Nathan?” Asked Lady Red as she recognized the suit from the superhero from behind.

“In flesh and blood….get it?” Super Nathan commented waiting for a laughter, that didn’t happen. “Come on, I can be as funny as Cat Noir.

“That coming from your mouth just sounds fishy boy,” Cat Noir said opening the door from the driver cabin to look at the partner.

“Not bad, you cod do it better” Super Nathan said making Lady Red chuckle” See?”

“You got to be krilling me,” Cat Noir said rolling his eyes. “So fish-bug, how can we help?”

“You two just brought me the answer,” Lady Red said making the two boys smile. “Super Nathan, you take the car and guide the animals all away from here and Cat Noir stays here with me”

“Sure, I’m on it!” Super Nathan responded followed by Cat Noir jump out of the van like a cat, landing next to her. Cat Noir looked at the animals all gazing hungrily at the vehicle, then Cat Noir took a hering out of the van and showed it to the animals.

“Do you want some delicious fish?” Asked Cat Noir, watching the car driving away with the animals starting to follow it. “Take a few rounds around the arc until you got the most of animals behind you!” Cat Noir ordered the purple-skinned superhero, which honked at the friend.

“What is your plan?” Asked Cat Noir watching Lady Red hand him the one end of the tube and she moved aside to extend it.

“We run with it against the strays until we arrive there at the arc de Triomphe.”

“Sure” Cat Noir agreed watching Lady Red go take distance between the two, so they could stretch the hose enough straight, then the two nodded at each other and ran forwards at the animals, then most of the animals got pulled by the hose, while the others managed to stay behind it.

“Be careful, he’s got his whip back!” Viperion warned watching the supervillain whip on Honey Bee, which didn’t have any chance to use her trompo on the villain. Viperion furrowed his eyebrows as Honey Bee didn’t get transformed into an animal.

“I think only when he cries like he did before you get transformed into an animal” Miss Vixen said, then watched Lady Red and Cat Noir get closer and Viperion threw the fox at the supervillain and the animal bit Furrytail on his spiky ears, causing him to yelp and a few dogs around him jump up, trying to help their leader.

“Cat Noir, destroy the whip!” Ordered Viperion earning a thumb up from the cat-themed superhero.

“Cataclysm!” Shouted Cat Noir running at the supervillain, then Furrytail ripped Miss Vixen off his ears and watched Cat Noir run towards her, then Furrytail spun his whip while yelling and as Cat Noir jumped towards the supervillain, Cat Noir got hit by the whip and to his luck he managed to touch the whip before it was pulled back by the supervillain and it fell down in ashes, followed by Cat Noir fall down on the ground, now in the body of a real black cat.

“Hey!” Hissed Cat Noir annoyed at the transformation, then shrieked as a big dog growled at him and Cat raced his way up to Lady Red’s arms. “Help!”

“Got job, my kitty” Lady Red complimented patting the boyfriend on his head, making him smile and start purring showing the girl, he was enjoying it.

“There we got the akuma” Miss Vixen barked watching the butterfly pass by the ladybug-themed heroine, which rolled her yo-yo down to get ready to catch the akuma.

“You’ve done enough mayhem today little akuma” Lady Red stated starting to spin her yo-yo around to catch her akuma. “Time to de-evilize!”

“Where’s Super Nath…..” Miss Vixen asked followed by a car crashing against a post and get surrounded by the various strays. “Is he okay?” Asked Miss Vixen seeing Super Nathan erase the roof of the van and jump out of the vehicle and look at the superheroes near the arc de Triomphe.

“He’s fine” Responded Viperion look at Lady Red throw her lucky charm up in the air to activate the miraculous healing light.

A couple of pets transformed back into human beings, while the rest of the animals stood the same and in the end, Miss Vixen and Cat Noir, which were in the arms of Lady Red and Viperion go turned back into their superhero selves.

“Whoa!” Lady Red gasped as Cat Noir was himself again and surprisingly heavier and she felt down with him on the ground. “Great, you’re back,” Lady Red said with a smile, then Cat Noir licked Lady Red on her cheek causing her to blush in surprise.

“Does Cat Noir have a rough tongue, when he licks you?” Viperion asked while dropping Miss Vixen gently on the ground.

“It kinda felt a little” Lady Red responded and looked at Furrytail transforming back into the orphan Kevin and the Labrador puppy.

“Hey it’s home alone Kevin” Cat Noir mentioned grinning, then saw the puppy ran at Kevin and lick the boy on his face and get picked up by the boy.

“How are you doing, little man?” Asked Viperion, then his miraculous started to beep. “I got only five minutes before I transform back, will you take care of the boy?” Questioned the snake-themed superhero earning a nod from the others, then Viperion ran off passing beside Super Nathan, which came to Kevin and the other heroes.

“Was this puppy also akumatized?” Asked Honey Bee shocked as she saw the two together. “What a monster could do that?!?”

“Hey is that your dog?” Asked Super Nathan going down on his knees to talk with the boy.

“I’ve bought it with the money I’ve earned from doing a woman a few favors” Responded Kevin. “But Madame Livre said it was better to bring him back, cause he doesn’t have enough space in our home and I think we can’t give him back anymore”

“Aww, you just wanted the others all to be happy with a buddle of joy like him, right?” Asked Miss Vixen petting the little Labrador puppy, which licked Miss Vixen’s face and the pet was pecked all over his head by Miss Vixen, making Super Nathan roll his eyes.

“Yeah” Kevin sobbed getting his hair ruffled by Cat Noir.

“What woman are you talking about?” Asked Lady Red. “The Monarch?”

“No I’ve met a woman once at the park, which offered me money if I would organize for her butterflies from the store or from the nature” Explained Kevin. “She said, she was going to breed them or something”

“Can you describe us the woman?” Lady Red asked earning a nod from the boy, followed by Super Nathan draw something on his tablet and over him appeared a pencil and a writing block, which he took to take down notes.

“Well her hair is long and black and she has a part I think the right side….or was it the left side?” She had a red streak from her RAIZ up down to the end. I don’t remember her eye color and I think she was as tall as Viperion, maybe a little more.” Kevin explained earning a nod from Lady Red.

“Are you thinking about the same person as I am, Cat?” Asked Lady Red looking up at the blonde.

“I can’t recall someone at the moment with raven hair” Cat Noir responded thinking about it.

“Couldn’t it be Nathalie Sancoeur?” Asked Super Nathan looking at the others.

“I think it could be her. We just have always seen her with her hair tied up”

“But it’s impossible.” Cat Noir denied. “She’s supposed to beset two years in jail”

“But for good behavior, it could happen, that she could have left the jail earlier” Lady Red explained.

“Right, but uhm could it be really her?” Asked Cat Noir. “What if Nathalie is still in jail and that’s just another person, maybe someone of her family?”

“Does she have someone else too?”

“I don’t know. I know she talked a lot about her parents and how she and they were the only ones living in Paris, while the rest moved out into another country”

“Oh”

“We should ask Gabriel Agreste about her, maybe he knows something or he can help us figure out if she’s out or not” Suggested Miss Vixen.

“I think we could do that” Cat Noir agreed.

“And what will be about Kevin and his dog?” Honey Bee asked and the superheroes looked all at each other.

“I and my mom are rarely home, so we won’t have time to take care of the pup” Super Nathan answered.

“Same” Responded Miss Vixen.

“My mom has time, but she needs an assistance dog because she can’t see” Lady Red explained earning a nod from the others.

“We have a baby at home and I’m not sure if we can keep it,” Cat Noir said watching Honey Bee take the puppy in her arms.

“Same I don’t know, but I could ask my parents and you could ask yours” Honey Bee suggested. “Then one of us keeps him”

“We see about that”

“Will you inform me, if he finds a good home?” Asked Kevin earning a nod from the cat miraculous holder.

“We promise” The blonde responded making Kevin smile happy.

“So it’s time to head back before we transform back,” Lady Red said.

“Same” Cat Noir added. “See you later guys”

“Bye!” The other superheroes said along with the boy, watching Cat Noir leave along with Lady Red.

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bored-fan-bs-thoughts · 6 years ago

Text

Final Chapter: Fluff and Holiday Cheer

Sorry this took so long, but I lost momentum and started planning out another chaptered fic. I hope this is a sufficient end. Enjoy!

Find Previous Chapters Here!

After about a month and a half of dating, T.J. and Cyrus finally convinced Cyrus’s parents to allow them to have sleepovers again. The deal is that they were required to stay in the open, so they decide to sleep on the couch. Well, decide is a little generous. Cyrus actually falls asleep on T.J.’s shoulder and T.J. doesn’t want to wake him up. They have the morning to themselves because Amber and T.J.’s dad were both at work, as per usual.

It takes about an hour to get off the couch and into the kitchen. Cyrus just wants to stay cuddled in T.J.’s arms where he feels safe and warm, but T.J. is determined to get the day started so they’ll have time to enjoy the morning with just the two of them before the rest of his family gets home.

When he finally frees himself from being Cyrus’s pillow, he helps the other boy stand up. He’s a bit shaky on his feet at first, but T.J.’s firm grasp and steady balance allow him to rise from the warm couch. Cyrus makes a pouty face, but T.J. places soft kisses to his forehead, nose, and cheeks thus erasing any sadness from his expression and causing him blush.

T.J. wraps his arms around the sleepy boy’s waist causing Cyrus to burrow his head into T.J.’s soft hoodie as if preparing to go back to sleep.

“No, you’re not allowed to sleep,” T.J. says fondly. He effortlessly lifts Cyrus up and carries him into the kitchen eliciting a squeal from Cyrus. He places the boy down in a kitchen chair and smooths his messy hair.

“Am I pretty now?” Cyrus jokes, batting his eyes flirtatiously.

“You’re always pretty,” T.J. responds dreamily.

“You are quite the charmer, Kippen,” Cyrus says.

“Only for you,” T.J. responds. He kisses the boy on his forehead, and turns to begin pulling out dishes and ingredients for breakfast. Cyrus is left admiring the boy as he begins to measure out the flour.

“Are pancakes okay, babe?” T.J. asks, tossing his head over his shoulder to get another glimpse of Cyrus. He feels as if he has check if Cyrus is there to make sure this is all still real. He still can’t help feeling like any minute Cyrus is going to say it’s all a joke, but he knows that will never happen. Cyrus nods, rising from his seat and rubbing the grogginess out of his eyes.

“What can I help you with?”

As T.J. and Cyrus cook, they steal glances at each other. In such close proximity, their hands brush frequently causing them both to blush. Eventually, Cyrus grabs T.J.’s hand and interlocks their fingers earning a small gasp from the boy. Cyrus shakes his head affectionately and moves in for a kiss. Despite their two months of dating, he’s still somewhat timid, but that doesn’t stop him from bringing his free arm up to wrap around the taller boy’s neck. He loves the feeling of being in T.J.’s arms. He feels safe and comfortable. And kissing him is definitely a perk.

The entire morning feels so domestic. The boys cook together, hold hands, and kiss. They can definitely get used to this.

—————

After they clean, they find themselves cuddled up on the couch together. Cyrus has his thighs draped over T.J.’s lap whose arm is wrapped around Cyrus’s shoulders as his other hand absentmindedly plays with the Jewish boy’s dainty fingers. They are both perfectly content to sit quietly and wordlessly, and Cyrus can feel himself drifting off to sleep again as T.J. presses the occasional kiss to the boy’s forehead or fingertips. T.J. shamelessly gazes down at the boy in his arms knowing he is so far gone for him.

“So…I was thinking, and I think I might be ready to go public?” Cyrus asks, his voice is soft and laden with exhaustion.

“Hell, yeah,” T.J. says, then coughing he adds, “Only if you’re truly ready, of course.”

Cyrus nods up at T.J. “I want people to know about us,” Cyrus says. “I want to be able to kiss you and hold your hand in public.”

T.J. kisses him on the cheek. “Me too,” T.J. says.

—————

The next day, T.J. and his teammates are preparing for their big game in the locker room. Feeling his phone buzz against his thigh, he takes it out of his pocket to see the usual good luck text from Cyrus. He can’t help but smile as he reads it, catching the attention of his teammates.

“Aw, Kippen’s all smiley today,” Chris teases, “Have you see your boy recently?”

“You can tell by the glow on his face,” Darren says as he exits the locker room. “And the absurd amount of blush.”

“Let’s just say there’s a reason I’m not denying the ‘your boy’ comment,” T.J. responds as he begins to tie his sneakers.

Chris smiles at this. “What happened?” he asks.

“I can’t say,” T.J. says laughing, “A gentleman never kisses and tells.”

“Since when are you a gentleman?”

T.J. pushes Chris nearly off the bench he’s sitting on causing the boy to laugh and fight back.

“Damn bro,” Chris says. “Is he coming to the game?”

“Always,” T.J. nods. “We gotta get out there before coach gets mad.”

Chris slings a sweat towel over his shoulder, and stands up from the bench.

—————

After the game, Cyrus freely runs into T.J.’s arms, engulfing his sweaty boyfriend in a congratulatory hug.

“I’m so proud of you,” Cyrus says as he pulls away.

“I want to kiss you so badly right now,” T.J. says.

“Do it.”

Without hesitation, T.J. crashes his lips against Cyrus’s in an aggressive but tender kiss. T.J. blocks out the crowd around them, but he knows he’s going to be hearing a lot about this from his teammates later on. After a few invigorating moments, they pull away for air. T.J. rests his forehead on against Cyrus’s.

“You smell like sweat,” Cyrus says, trying to pull away from him. He is held tighter by his boyfriend’s arms around his waist.

“I’m not letting you get away,” T.J. says. Cyrus giggles and leans up to his T.J.’s sweaty cheek.

“Wow, you guys really took the ‘going public’ seriously,” Buffy teases, breaking them out of their haze. She and Marty stand close to them holding hands.

“You played well, man,” Marty says, patting T.J. on the back. “And I’m really happy for you guys.”

“Thanks bro!” T.J. responds. “Are we all heading to The Spoon?”

“YES!” Cyrus exclaims, “I need some baby taters.”

T.J. smiles as Buffy and Marty nod in response. Cyrus finally detaches from his boyfriend and attempts to push him towards the locker room.

“Please go shower, you sweaty boy,” Cyrus says.

T.J. blows a kiss in Cyrus’s direction before turning around and heading to the showers. Cyrus is left a blushing, blubbering mess. T.J. still has a crazy effect on him, despite how comfortable he feels around him.

—————

At The Spoon, T.J. and Cyrus sit in a booth across from Buffy and Marty. Andi sits at the end of the table witnessing both couples and feeling single as ever.

“Wow, I love being a fifth wheel,” Andi says. She means for it to sound like a joke, but her real annoyance shines through.

“Well, Amber’s here right now,” Buffy says, “You could change that.”

“Guys, she probably doesn’t feel the same,” Andi says.

“Amber?” T.J. says. “Are you kidding me? She couldn’t be more obvious.”

“Hey guys,” Amber says. Seemingly appearing out of thin air, she greets the group before turning her head to Andi specifically, “Hey Andi.”

“Hey, Amber,” Andi says. She can’t hide the blush on her cheeks.

“I’m kind of taking my break right now,” Amber explains looking solely at Andi, “Can I talk to you a bit…in private?”

“Oh,” Andi says turning to look back at her friends who are giving her excited nods, “Yeah, sure!”

Andi stands up nervously and follows Amber out of the diner. T.J. can’t keep his laughter under control. Cyrus simply looks at him like he’s a crazy person.

“I’m sorry,” T.J. says through his giggling, “It’s just, I’m so happy she’s finally telling her. It’s taken so long.”

“I think you’re just a lovesick fool,” Buffy says causing T.J. to stick his tongue out at her.

“Does this mean that we’re the only straight members of this group?” Marty says, looking towards his girlfriend.

“Actually,” Buffy says, “I think you may be the only one…I think I’m bi.”

Everyone at the table gasps. “Oh my God!” Cyrus says. “We can finally be the Gay Hair Crew.”

“Yeah, ain’t gonna happen,” Buffy says.

“How’d you know?” Cyrus asks. “I want to know everything.”

Buffy shrugs with a slight blush on her cheeks. “I guess I kind of used to have a crush on Andi.”

“Called it!” T.J. says, giving himself a high five. Buffy gives him a questioning look.

“He actually did,” Cyrus says. “He asked if you two were a thing many months ago. I’m proud of you babe.”

“Thanks babe,” T.J. says, giving his boyfriend an adoring peck on the forehead.

“Ugh, stop being so disgustingly cute,” Marty says. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“What are your Valentine’s Day plans?” Cyrus asks.

“I’m probably going to kick Marty’s ass in a game of one-on-one,” Buffy jokes.

“Actually,” Marty says, giving an adoring look to his girlfriend, “We are going out to dinner. Maybe we will be competing a bit.”

“Everything between you two is a competition,” Cyrus says with a smile. “We’re just going to watch some trashy rom-coms and do some baking. We have the house to ourselves because my dad and step-mom are going out to dinner.”

“Correction, we are watching cinematic masterpieces,” T.J. says feigning offense, “But go off, I guess.”

“Let me guess,” Marty says, “T.J. picked the movies.”

“It was a mutual decision,” T.J. defends, but he’s given away by Cyrus shaking his head.

“T.J. is just really in love with Ryan Gosling, but honestly who isn’t?” Cyrus says. This earns him a laugh from the group. “Which leads to an interesting conversation. You all know my first crush was on Jonah, and I deserve to know yours.”

“Well, mine was kind of a mix between Andi and Marty,” Buffy says, “Which is probably obvious.”

“I think mine was Buffy,” Marty says, “At least, that’s the only one that matters.”

Buffy blushes as T.J. makes a fake wretch sound. It quickly turns into a yelp as the girl kicks his shin under the table.

“T.J.,” Marty says, giving a glance towards the boy, “Who was yours?”

T.J. looks down. He knew the question was coming, but he wasn’t ready to answer. When he looks up all pairs of eyes are on him.

“Um, my first crush,” T.J. begins nervously, “Was on Marty. But don’t hate me Buffy. I’m totally over it now.”

Buffy laughs. “We can all tell,” She says, looking between Cyrus and T.J.

Cyrus leans into T.J.’s side, and T.J. throws an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulder. He feels as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders.

Suddenly, the bell rings signaling Andi and Amber’s reentrance. They are holding hands as the approach the table and Andi sits down in her seat.

“I have to go back to work, Bambi,” Amber says, leaning down and planting a kiss on her new girlfriend’s cheek.

“That was a quick way of becoming not-single,” Buffy comments as soon as Amber walks away (she nearly runs into a nearby table as she does so).

The entire table bursts into laughter as Andi’s cheeks turn a deep shade of red.

—————

Cyrus opens the door to find a smiling T.J. holding a large bouquet of roses.

“Here are some roses,” T.J. says, his voice slightly raspy from his wide smile, “For my rose”

“God, you’re such a dork,” Cyrus says, but there is a strong, deep blush on his cheeks. He takes the flowers from his boyfriend, gives him a quick kiss, and leads T.J. into his kitchen. He places the bouquet down on the counter. As he turns to grab a vase, hands wrap around his waist and spin him around to come face-to-face with his boyfriend.

“Hi,” T.J. says in a bashful and affectionate tone.

“Hi,” Cyrus says, giggling. He leans in to kiss T.J. It’s slow, soft, and meaningful, and it makes Cyrus’s heart flutter.

“Happy Valentine’s day, Cy,” T.J. says, leaning his forehead against Cyrus’s. His arms are still wrapped around his boyfriend’s waist.

“Happy Valentine’s day, babe,” Cyrus says back, “Now lets do some baking!”

Cyrus pulls away, sad to leave the comfort and warmth of T.J.’s embrace. It’s been almost two months, but his heart still flutters when he thinks about his relationship. He can only hope this feeling will last forever.

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

Tag List: @hithatsmyname @blueberry-my-hero-macadamia @samlynnsblog

#andi mack #tyrus #muffy #ambi

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you-get-to-exhale-now-cyrus · 6 years ago

Text

Jonah Beck & The Doors

Word Count: 1,870 TW: implied abuse, bruising A/N: i think i read a fic like this a while back somewhere, but i can’t remember?? anyways i’ve been thinking about jonah’s home life for a while, and i wanted to write a fic dedicated to it!! i hope you enjoy!

also this isn’t ship oriented, just good friends!

Monday mornings were never days that anyone looked forward to. Staying up late on a Sunday proved to be a bad choice, when you walked in looking like a twice-dead zombie.

Monday mornings were worse if you were Jonah Beck and you were walking in with a black eye and bruises down your right arm (his frisbee-throwing arm!). But nobody needed to know why he wasn’t looking like a ray of sunshine.

Just smile, he thought to himself, grinning as he entered the school, his head hung low, smile, and everything is going to be all right.

Before the bell for first period rang, Jonah shuffled to his locker and grabbed his books for Geometry, his least favorite class.

“Jonah, hey!” a familiar voice that could only be Andi called. She bounced over to him, pushing her bangs to the side.

Jonah grimaced; there was no way that he was getting out of this conversation without making eye contact.

Now or never, he thought to himself, picking up his head.

“Hey Andiman,” he greeted, tugging on his backpack straps with nervous energy as Andi sucked in the air that surrounded them.

“Jonah! Your eye...what happened?” she fretted, her soft brows eyes flooding with worry as she scanned his injuries.

“Oh, uh, I was at frisbee practice and I missed it completely!” he lied smoothly, smiling so hard his face was starting to hurt, “yeah, Gus threw it and I guess the sun was in my eyes because the next thing I know BAM!” he exclaimed, “frisbee to the face. I’ll be fine though,”

Andi seemed relieved with this answer, nodding her head. “Well, be careful out there. Put some ice on it to help the swelling,” she informed him, wincing at the shrill bell that signaled first period.

“I will, thanks. See you at lunch.” Jonah pivoted on his heel and hurried away, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. That went...surprisingly smoothly.

“And since these angles are equal, we can deduct that the shape is-”

“Pst!” Buffy whispered, tapping Jonah’s desk lightly, “do you have an extra pencil?”

Jonah nodded, digging through his bag and pulling out a few crumpled papers before handing Buffy a pencil.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, focusing her attention on the problem on the board. Why was geometry so boring? This class was definitely the one that seemed to drag on and on. After several more proofs, the bell rang and the students were never as happy as they were now.

“Remember to do the last few problems in the packet!” The teacher reminded his students, grabbing his eraser and clearing the board of any stray marks.

“Ugh, I don’t want tooo,” Jonah groaned, tilting his head up to face the light from the ceiling. Curse gravity for allowing his hood from his sweatshirt to fall. Curse the university for having Buffy standing right in front of him.

“Dude, your eye!” she gawked, taking a step closer and examining it like she was his doctor, “did you get in a fight?”

Something like that, he thought to himself, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. “No, I, uh, I actually got hurt playing frisbee. I ran to catch one and then tripped over a tree root, and fell,” he lied, curling his toes inside his sneakers. Was that what he had told Andi? He knew it had something to do with frisbee, but he wasn’t sure. Close enough.

“Yikes,” she commented, her brows furrowing, “well, make sure to put ice on that, or use some sort of concealer to make it look less...bad.” She then handed Jonah his now dull pencil and promptly turned to walk to class.

The athlete exhaled shakily, shuffling out of the classroom and back to his locker.

It seemed to get easier and easier to lie to people. Throughout the day, people had come up to him, asking him why he looked like he was beaten in a fight. And he would calmly explain that he hurt himself in frisbee practice, even throwing in a few jokes about him being clumsy in there. It seemed to please people, and by the end of the day, he even made a few ‘friends’, or rather close acquaintances, who had shared their stories about sports injuries.

Safe to say, Jonah was feeling a lot better by the time it was time to walk home. Until he realized what home meant, and his happy demeanor disappeared.

“Ready to go?” Cyrus chirped from his locker, holding his history book under one arm and having his bag slung over his opposing shoulder.

“Yeah,” he replied shakily, feeling his Adams apple wobble in his throat. He and Cyrus always walked home together, but today was different. He was terrified that Cyrus would give him one look and all his carefully constructed walls would come crumbling down. And he totally would have made it home without any issue were it not for Cyrus pointing out the fall foliage.

“Look, Jonah! Aren’t the maple leaves just gorgeous in the fall?” he gushed, a huge grin splitting his face.

Jonah peered up at the leaves, being basked by the golden sunlight. Squinting, he tried to make out the colors. “Yeah, they’re pretty nice,” he mumbled, his eyes trailing down the trunk of the tree until something obstructed his view; Cyrus was standing directly in front of him. Staring at him in the eyes. At the one that was bruised.

“Jonah,” he started softly, his eyebrows drawn up in concern, “what happened to your eye?”

Jonah tried to follow his routine that he had perfected at school. First step was to smile, but it was weaker, and faker, than before. Cyrus definitely noticed that. Bless his inner therapist.

“Dude, I totally fumbled at frisbee practice yesterday. Collided with one kid going for the frisbee and we just...clashed,” he lied, grinning so hard that it was starting to physically hurt.

Meeting Cyrus’ eyes, he knew it was over; Cyrus had that ‘look’ that meant he knew something was up, but he was going to wait until Jonah spilled. The Jewish boy wasn’t one to intrude.

“We didn’t have practice yesterday, Jonah,” Cyrus reminded him, “or else I would have been there to hand out snacks and things like that.”

It was definitely over at this point. No way Jonah was going to squeeze out of this situation.

“It-it’s nothing major really,” he lied again, his voice low along with his head. Trying to focus on all the fallen leaves on the ground was not helping; they just made him think of Cyrus and that damned face.

The two walked in uncomfortable silence for a bit, kicking at the brittle leaves under the soles of their shoes. Cyrus finally broke the silence as they pulled up to his driveway.

“I’d really like it if you came inside,” he offered kindly, “my parents definitely won’t mind, and I can text your mom and tell her you’re here,”

Jonah stared at him at first, blinking owlishly, until he softly nodded his head, ducking into Cyrus’ house.

“Mom! I’m home!” Cyrus called, but to no response, “she’s probably in a therapy session, but we can go to my room.” He led the other boy up the stairs, texting Mrs. Beck that he and Jonah were working on a school project, to which she replied ‘thank you for telling me’.

“So,” Cyrus began, ushering Jonah inside and motioning for him to take a seat on his beanbag, “I’m not going to force you to talk. We can just sit here until you’re ready,”

“Your inner therapist is jumping out,” Jonah joked weakly, his lips twitching into a gentle smile, “...I just-I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he admitted after a beat.

“In what sense?” Cyrus pried, crossing his legs, “hold on. Turn towards me, I wanna see your eye,”

Jonah chewed on his lip, biting down so hard that he threatened to draw blood. “Lately I’ve...I don’t even really know why but,” he paused, holding his breath for a few seconds. Now was not when he wanted to cry. He didn’t want to cry at all, but he hadn’t even said what happened.

“Take your time,” Cyrus assured him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He could feel Jonah tense at the touch, and immediately removed his hand. “Sorry,”

“It’s not your fault, I’m just...clumsy.” He picked the word with caution, his hand trailing up towards his bruised eye, tentatively gracing his skin.

“You’re one of the most athletically gifted people I know, Jonah. You’re not clumsy,” Cyrus promised him, tracing circles into his own palm.

“I...I walked into a door,” he managed to spit out, sucking in all the oxygen that surrounded him and Cyrus. How badly he wished he could have taken back his words. He really didn’t want Cyrus to worry about him.

Cyrus felt like he’d just been punched in the gut, all the air knocked out of him. Jonah, sweet and happy Jonah, was going through one of the worst situations imaginable. “How long have you been...walking into doors?”

Jonah sighed, leaning his head against Cyrus and taking in the comforting scent of his lemon shampoo. “I-I think...for a few months. The first one I walked into wasn’t bad; there wasn’t even bruising. But after that...I became more and more clumsy.” His voice cracked in the middle of his words, tears pushing against his lashes.

Another sickening feeling overtook Cyrus, who gingerly put an arm around Jonah. “Is this okay?” he asked, not wanting to overstep again. He could feel Jonah nod against his shoulder, and slowly rubbed his arm. Jonah winced, and Cyrus immediately stopped.

“I-ran into a really bad door the other day,” he admitted, rolling up his sleeves to reveal a few fading bruises, a few blue, the others yellow in color.

Cyrus swallowed thickly, examining Jonah’s bruises carefully, his dainty fingers brushing against his arm. “If-if you ever find yourself running into any more doors, you know you can always call me and sleepover,” he murmured, a sympathetic smile playing on his lips.

Jonah tried to smile back, but collapsed into Cyrus’ chest, his tears staining the other boy’s light blue shirt. And he wanted to stop so badly but that was beyond his control; he’d slipped into a world where he no longer held the reins.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Cyrus reassured him over and over, “It’s terrible what’s happening, and I’m so sorry, but things will be alright,”

Jonah didn’t know how long he stayed there, tangled in Cyrus arms and bawling his eyes out. It was relieving in a way; it definitely helped to be able to tell someone.

“Thanks,” he mumbled after a while, prying himself off of Cyrus, “for...helping me with these pesky doors,” he sighed, running his hands through his matted hair.

“Of course,” Cyrus replied immediately, a weak smile dancing on his lips, “and Jonah?”

“Yeah?“

“If you ever think you’re going to walk into a door again, your room is a place where you can’t do that. Try and find solidarity,”

Jonah beck smiled genuinely for the first time that day. Things were going to be okay.

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dailyaudiobible · 6 years ago

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09/08/2018 DAB Transcript

Isaiah 1:1-2:22, 2 Corinthians 10:1-18 , Psalms 52:1-9 , Proverbs 22:26-27

Today is the 8th day of September. Welcome to the Daily Audio Bible. I'm Brian. It's great to be here with you as we close down another week and finish our first full week of the month of September. And we're moving into some new territory. So, we had this period where we went through Job and Ecclesiastes, going into the deeper matters of the heart. And then we came through Song of Solomon, which obviously moved us in another direction. And now we are at the threshold of the book of Isaiah. And we'll be camping out here for a minute, so let's consider the territory that we're moving into. Isaiah is a book of prophecy classified among the Old Testament major prophets, which also includes Jeremiah, Lamentations, Ezekiel and Daniel. So, this distinction of major prophet indicates that there are minor prophets and there are. But they have nothing to do with importance, they have to do more with length and the volume of material. So, Isaiah's considered a major prophet because it contains 66 chapters, making it one of the longer books of the Bible.

Introduction to the book of Isaiah:

Isaiah's name means the Lord saves. And he was a very passionate Old Testament prophet. His writings are referred to and quoted throughout the New Testament. In fact, Jesus quoted from Isaiah eight times in the gospels. It was such an important text to Jesus that he recited from Isaiah 61 at the launch of his ministry to declare his purpose, right? The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, for he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor.

So, Isaiah lived in the second half of the 8th century BC. And it seems as if he was part of the upper class or the aristocracy because he had access to royalty. Although he lived in a very tumultuous time, he was able to deliver messages to kings over a long period. So, he wasn't just a crazed peasant, just kind of coming in unwanted, unkempt from the countryside. Isaiah's ministry lasted over a long period of time. He prophesied during the reigns of five different kings: Uzziah, Jotham, Ahaz, Hezekiah, who he was very loyal to. They were very loyal to each other, even though they disagreed, and Manasseh. And then, according to Jewish and Christian tradition, Isaiah was martyred by being sawed in half at the order of King Manasseh. Now that's a tradition. There's nothing explicit to this event found in the Bible. But the writer of Hebrews describes the faith of the saints of old by saying, some died by stoning, some were sawed in half and others were killed with the sword. So, that there's the brief, briefest reference to that tradition. And Isaiah is divided almost evenly in content. The first thirty-nine chapters of the book discuss God's judgement, which is very sobering and the very territory that we're about to head into. And then chapters 40 through 66 discuss God's comfort and restoration, which is very hopeful. Throughout Isaiah, God's sovereignty and lordship, as well as the fact that his heavenly kingdom is to be established upon this earth, take on major themes. Which brings social justice into the mix, which is also very important to Isaiah. Even though he had access to kings, his heart was for the downtrodden. So, we're heading into the books of prophecy. And these prophetic books are full of metaphor and full of symbolism, full of allegorical language. Isaiah is no different. We just read the Song of Solomon and when we began that, we mentioned that we can look at this through several different lenses and arrive at different meanings, all worthwhile and godly. So, as we move into this territory, let's invite the Holy Spirit to lead us to what we need to see. And with that we begin. We're reading from the Modern English Version this week, which is today. Isaiah 1:1-2:22.

Prayer:

Father, we thank You for Your word. We thank You for another week. O Lord, we can certainly declare Your faithfulness each and every day. And as we look back at all of the distance that we've covered this year, we can announce Your mercy and declare Your faithfulness every day. And, so, we thank You that as we move through another year, You lead us through Your word. And Your word changes us. It shifts things and we are changing. And we thank You for that. We invite You to come, Holy Spirit. Continue to plant the words in the Scriptures in our lives, leading us into all truth as You've promised. Come Jesus, we pray. In Your mighty name we ask. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is home base, it’s the website, it's where you find out what's going on around here. So,, be sure to check it out.

And stay connected. Stay connected with your brothers and sisters at the Prayer Wall, who are praying for one another. Stay connected through social media. Check out the Daily Audio Bible shop for resources that are available to accompany you through this journey.

And if you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, thank you. You can do that at dailyaudiobible.com as well. There's a link on the homepage. If you're using the Daily Audio Bible app, you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or, if you prefer, the mailing address is PO Box 1996, Spring Hill, Tennessee, 37174.

And, as always if you have a prayer request or comment, 877-942-4253 is the number to dial.

And that's it for today. I'm Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for here is tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hi guys. This is Rachel calling from Scotland. I’m phoning to ask you to pray for my family, my immediate family especially. My mom passed away after an accident in 2001 and since then it’s just been my dad, my older sister, called Karen, and myself and my dad’s brother. And that’s all of our immediate family. Over the past 12 years my father’s been going out with a lady and we’ve got on okay with her. There hasn’t been any major problems. Over the last few months they’ve got engaged and she’s moved into the house that mom and dad bought together. Now, when mom died she didn’t leave a will because she died in an accident, so everything happened suddenly. My dad, fairly recently, over the past couple of months, said that…although we hadn’t fallen out and there’s been no problems in the family…that he’s actually selling the house and cut me and my sister out of his will. And he did this because he wants his fiancée to be secure in case anything happens to him. And this has caused such an upset in the family. Apart from myself, nobody’s actually speaking to him anymore and including his brother who he’s been best friends with 75 years. And they’ve never been…had an argument …they’ve never fallen out. Now there’s been so much hurt between them that they’re not welcome in each others house. The only person having communication with both sides is myself and it’s a very difficult thing to do. Please pray that God will work in this situation, that He’ll work his __ out and he’ll bring salvation to all those involved. And next, in the midst of all this distress, that they require…

Hi, my name is Denise and I’m calling from California. I’m asking for prayer in the way of solitude, divine intervention, and peace in my life, and that of my children. I’m going through struggle right now, deep deep struggle. And I know is a spiritual attack in every sense of the word. I am trying so hard to walk the line of righteousness and good but every time I feel like I’m gettin to a place it’s yanked from under me. I would like so much to just serve God, serve the Lord, and serve my fellow man without any incident but for the life of me I can’t make it to higher ground. I hurt so bad and I feel terrible that I have to walk around and put on a charade as though everything is all right when deep down inside…I just don’t know how much more I can take. I just would like for as many followers or prayer warriors out there that hear my voice to pray for me. And pray because I need it so bad. And I appreciate it. Thank you and God bless.

Hello Daily Audio Bible family. This is Butterfly from West Palm Beach. I have been listening and listening and listening, but I never called. So today, driving home I just wanted to say a prayer for all f us. Father, in the name of Jesus God I love You and I thank You. Lord I thank You for this opportunity Father to come and call on Your name for Your holy people Jesus. Lord I ask that You help us to be more like You because You know our struggles God. You know our hearts even before we were even created in our mother’s wombs, God, all of our issues that we’re dealing with, all of life’s troubles and struggles, God I just speak victory, the spirit of victory over each and every one of us God. Known and unknown God You know us. Lord, You know us by our name because God created us Father. Lord I ask right now that You go into every college campus that’s represented in the Daily Audio Bible and keep our children safe Father. Every elementary school, every middle school that is represented by every member in this Daily Audio Bible family, God we need You. Father lift our children up God. I speak to their spirits and say that you are leaders, you are the head and not the tail, above only and not beneath. Father that barren woman on the line the other day, God, do a work in her life God. Father, touch her body. Lord unstop her ears that she may hear from You directly by the Spirit God. Father, I ask in the name of Jesus God that You heal her heart in the name of Jesus God. Lord, we trust Your plans for our lives in the name of Jesus God. We know that our thoughts are not Your thoughts and our ways not Your ways but God we know that all things are working together for our good because we are called according to Your purpose God. Lord I ask that You come…

Hi family this is Mary Jo in St. Louis and I am still on a cloud from the family reunion this weekend. Let me tell you, I’ve been listening for 10 years. I never really hoped to meet any of the people that call and but on Saturday night, I’m having dinner with Annette Allison on my left, Tracy Baker on my right, and Pelham to his right. And let me tell you, these people that call in are as real in person as they are on their phone calls. And it was just the most incredible thing to meet the family, a room full of people that don’t even look familiar but we’re all connected like Brian has said. So, I hope that everyone can go next year but let me tell you for those of you who won’t ever be able to come to a family reunion or go on the Israel trip or come to any of the meet ups or maybe…won’t even call in, you are all part of that family. You are all connected with us even if we don’t meet you this side of heaven. Praying for you all. Love you all. God bless you all in Jesus name.

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urfavmurtad · 7 years ago

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Here it is… my masterpiece of procrastination… the long-awaited sequel to The Quraysh Were Good Actually: 2 Ghazwa 2 Furious, per anon’s request. I actually couldn’t get it all in one post anon, sorry, bc it’s goddamn 10,000 words long jfc but I got it into two, which is much better than the five I had @quranreadalong!!!

This is all about military expeditions in Mohammed’s time. It sounds dry but I promise it’s fire. Jews getting massacred! Temples getting burned down!! Swarms of bees sent to punish the disbelievers!!! Extreme feudalism!!!! All this and more during the spread of The True Religion. I took mercy upon all y’all app users by not putting the whole thing as one post and making u scroll 5 minutes to get to the end of it.

This is an almost-complete rundown of military expeditions in Mohammed’s era, starting in Medina (622 AD) and leading up to the expedition to Tabouk (630 AD). It all started with our dudes the Quraysh in Mecca and their allies.

Mohammed’s followers had been raiding trade caravans headed to and from Mecca for a while. The first attempted attack on a caravan was only a few months after Mohammed moved to Medina with his followers, and more raids were carried out once every couple months after that. The motive was simply to get whatever the caravan was carrying. The early historian Ibn Ishaq quotes Mohammed as sending his men out with the command:

Go forth against this caravan; it may be that Allah will grant you plunder

Ambushes like this were pretty par for the course; there were always brigands laying in wait to attack caravans and steal their shit. So while this was annoying, it was not really unprecedented for a center of trade like Mecca, and the men traveling with each caravan were used to dealing with the situation and escaping from attempted raids. Mohammed’s people were simply one of many nuisances at this point, and their raids did not actually accomplish much until late 623 AD. This was the Nakhla raid.

Here’s the deal. In both the Islamic calendar and the polytheistic Arabian calendar that preceded it, there are four “sacred” months during which you’re not supposed to shed blood. One of those months is Rajab, the seventh month. Both Muslims and polytheists agreed that no one should be killed in this month, but Mohammed sent out a raiding party towards the end of the month anyway, headed by one of his idiot extended family members, Abdallah ibn Jahsh. Unbeknownst to anyone at the time, Abdallah had a penchant for Yeezys, and the Meccan caravan happened to be carrying some.

This expedition proceeded until they reached Nakhlah where they found ‘Amr ibn al-Hadrami leading a trade caravan for the Quraysh. That day was the last day of the sacred month. The Muslims were divided in their opinion. Some of them said: 'We know for certain that today belongs to the sacred month, we are of the view that you should not violate it because of greed’. The opinion of those who desired the stuff of this world gained the upper hand; they attacked Ibn al-Hadrami, killed him and seized his camels. Ibn al-Hadrami was the first person to be killed in a fight between the Muslims and the disbelievers. The disbelievers of the Quraysh heard about the incident and sent a delegation to the Prophet, Allah bless him and give him peace. They said to him: 'Do you allow fighting in the sacred month?’ As a response, Allah, exalted is He, revealed this verse (They question thee (O Muhammad) with regard to warfare in the sacred month…)

So even though it was a truce month and the raiders themselves knew it, they attacked the caravan, killed a trader, and stole the Yeezys anyway. The Quraysh were very upset and demanded answers from Mohammed, at which point “Allah” revealed that the raid was okay because the Quraysh were big meanies and disbelievers.

Now convinced that Mohammed’s followers were murderous lunatics, the Quraysh decided to prepare an army to send out to defend their next caravan if necessary. When Mohammed moved to attack a caravan returning from Syria to Mecca, the army set out to defend the caravan. The two armies met at a water source between Mecca and Medina called Badr, and that battle went well for the Muslims, with a few dozen Meccans dying and more being taken captive. (The caravan got past them, though.)

After Badr, many non-Muslims in Medina were furious at their new neighbors for instigating such a conflict. The Muslims were viewed by their non-Muslim neighbors not only as the aggressors, but also as a real threat to Medina’s relations with Mecca and their allied merchants in the area. One such person was a woman named Asma, a poet. In one of her poems she expressed rage at Mohammed and his people attacking the Meccans (many had friends or family in Mecca and the two cities were generally friendly with one another prior to Mohammed’s arrival) and wished for Mohammed’s death:

Do you expect good from him after the killing of your chiefs / Like a hungry man waiting for a cook’s broth? / Is there no man of pride who would attack him by surprise / And cut off the hopes of those who expect aught from him?

Mohammed was not happy upon hearing this. Ibn Ishaq’s biography continues:

When the apostle heard what she had said he said, “Who will rid me of Marwan’s daughter [Asma]?” Umayr b. Adiy al-Khatmi who was with him heard him, and that very night he went to her house and killed her. In the morning he came to the apostle and told him what he had done and he [Muhammad] said, “You have helped God and His apostle, O Umayr!” When he asked if he would have to bear any evil consequences the apostle said, “Two goats won’t butt their heads about her”, so Umayr went back to his people.

As far as I recall, Asma is the first recorded unarmed murder victim among the polytheists of Medina. She would not be the last Medinan poet to be killed that year; Mohammed also ordered the death of an old Jewish man for similar reasons that same year (and later ordered the death of another Jew who committed the same offense). The murder of those who dared speak against him was part a campaign of stamping out dissent and solidifying control of the area.

Mohammed believed that one community in particular stood in his way.

The first of three conflicts between Mohammed and the Jewish tribes of Medina began not long after Badr. As I’ve said before, Mohammed didn’t really interact with Jews en masse until his Medina days, and he seems to have been genuinely appalled that they not only didn’t believe he was a prophet, but believed that he was a bullshitter who distorted the Torah’s stories and their belief system. Relations between Muslims and Jews in Medina were not ideal for this reason, especially because the Jews were a prosperous and influential minority group that held power in the city, but from 622-624, there wasn’t really outright conflict. But the Jews’ persistent refusal to “embrace Islam” was noted and deeply resented.

That changed after Badr. Mohammed was feeling like a widow who just buried her third husband and was sick of having to deal with the Jews’ shit when he was basically running the place. Ibn Ishaq:

When God smote Quraysh at Badr, the apostle assembled the Jews in the market of the B. Qaynuqa’ (one of the three Jewish tribes, mostly smiths and jewelers) when he came to Medina and called on them to accept Islam before God should treat them as he had treated Quraysh.

And so he announced:

O assembly of Jews! Surrender to Allah (embrace Islam) and you will be safe!

Those who did not convert were told in no uncertain terms what Mohammed was preparing:

You should know that the earth belongs to Allah and His Apostle, and I want to expel you from this land.

From here on out, relations between Muslims and Jews were quite understandably tense. He saw the Jews as an obstacle to full control of the city and he wanted them gone from Medina. And before long, he would accomplish that goal.

The first of the three tribes to displease him was the Banu Qaynuqa. Neither Ibn Ishaq nor al-Tabari (nor any sahih source) gives the specific trigger for this incident, though more... colorful historians did invent an excuse it that is genuinely laughable. According to these accounts, the incident that prompted their eventual doom involved a jeweler belonging to the clan interacting with a Muslim woman and taking off her veil by pinning it down to a counter without her noticing (other histories say he “stripped her naked”–quite a strong pin!). A Muslim man observed this and beat the jeweler to death, prompting nearby Jews to try to pull him off the guy and subsequently kill him, and so on.

Whatever happened, Mohammed made good on his earlier threat to the Jews.

He sent his men to besiege the Banu Qaynuqa in their quarters for two weeks. It was evidently a bloodless siege as the Banu Qaynuqa do not seem to have fought back, and were perhaps unable to do so. They offered an unconditional surrender. The question then was what to do with them. One of the leaders of Medina forcefully pleaded for their lives. Al-Tabari:

Abd Allah b. Ubbay b. Salul rose up when God had put them in his power, and said, “Muhammad, treat my mawali [friends of tribe] well”; for they were the confederates of al-Khazraj [Abdallah’s tribe]. The Prophet delayed his answer, so ‘Abd Allah repeated, “Muhammad, treat my mawali well.” The Prophet turned away from him, and he put his hand into (The Messenger’s) collar. The Messenger of God said, “Let me go!” – he was so angry that they could see shadows in his face (that is, his face coloured). Then he said, “Damn you, let me go!” [Abdallah] replied, “No, by God, I will not let you go until you treat my mawali well. Four hundred man without armour and three hundred with coats of mail, who defended me from the Arab and non-Arab alike, and you would mow them in a single morning? By God, I do not feel safe and am afraid of what the future may have in store.” So the Messenger of God said, “They are yours.“

(This is the same guy labeled one of the munafiqun/fake Muslims in the Quran; there is no doubt that his kindness to the Jews of Medina was part of the reason for the suspicion towards him.)

The Jews of the Banu Qaynuqa were all kicked out, male and female alike, except for those few who wanted to stay and “converted” to Islam. The rest made their miserable way north. Mohammed confiscated their property and divided it among his followers and family members according to “Allah’s rules”. By pure coincidence, the Banu Qaynuqa had been prosperous smiths and jewelers who operated Medina’s market. Which was now up for grabs. Hrm...

That took care of the first Jewish tribe. They were the lucky ones.

The first recorded Medinan Muslim deaths outside of combat occurred about a month after this. Two farmers, at least one of whom was Muslim, were killed when a group of Meccan soldiers, seeking to avenge their comrades at Badr, torched a field a few miles away from Medina, where the two people were killed. This was, of course, the fault of The Jewz. Ibn Saad’s sira states:

They knocked at the door of Huyayy ibn Akhtab to gather information about the Apostle of Allah and his companions. He refused to open the door. They knocked at the door of Sallam Ibn Mishkam who opened the door, feasted them, offered them drink and supplied information about the Apostle of Allah.

Huyayy was the leader of the Banu Nadir tribe of Medinan Jews. Sallam here was a rabbi who deeply disliked Mohammed and thought he was a charlatan and, after his Badr and caravan expeditions, a dangerous cult leader. He exposed Mohammed’s lack of Biblical knowledge on multiple occasions, and Mohammed loathed him in return. We have absolutely no idea if Sallam’s involvement here is true or not due to the weak chain of transmission. It seems rather unlikely; the Meccans seem to have just been intent on quickly causing trouble and then leaving rather than staying to plan any larger attack or gathering information. When Mohammed decided to turn his wrath on the Banu Nadir, this supposed incident would not be the trigger, or even mentioned as an excuse.

Meanwhile, Mohammed can’t stop, won’t stop the raiding business. But his raids this time didn’t accomplish much–the Muslims captured some pack animals and goods at best, and walked away empty-handed at worst. Ibn Ishaq blandly lists the raids that occurred in 624 AD following Badr (no motivations are given for any of them). One involved Mohammed’s fighters trying to find some men of the Banu Sulaym tribe to raid, but they couldn’t locate them. There was another raid on the Quraysh, though this one doesn’t seem to have worked. Finally, we’re told that “he raided Najd, making for Ghatafan” shortly after the burnt-field incident mentioned above. Najd is the region to the east of the Hijaz, and the Ghatafan tribe was a large confederation of mostly-Bedouin clans that lived there. We will be seeing them again later, and we will discover that they didn’t enjoy Mohammed’s antics much.

Ibn Saad’s sira adds some color to this last raid, and gives some details to flesh out the story: two Ghatafan clans, we are told, were amassing themselves… in the middle of the Najd… to attack Medina. Of course. (Ibn Saad’s sira does this over and over again, it’s kind of funny. He probably got this tendency from his inventive teacher, al-Waqidi.) Mysteriously, when Mohammed’s army approached this spot, the evildoers… fled in terror and didn’t even try to engage them! The Muslims were able to capture a guy, who told them:

They will never confront you. If they learn of your march they will flee to the peaks of the mountains.

Some sources say that this poor dude was then put to death, or, as one book nicely puts it, “met his fate ordained from pre-eternity”.

So much for that whole threatening-Medina thing.

Finally, there was another caravan raid in this time period, also in the Najd region. Ibn Ishaq states:

The Quraysh were afraid to follow their usual route to Syria after what had happened at Badr, so they went by the Iraq route. Some of their merchants went out, among whom was Abu Sufyan, carrying a great deal of silver which formed the larger part of their merchandise. … The Apostle duly sent Zayd, and he met them by that watering place and captured the caravan and its contents, but the men got away. He brought the spoil to the Apostle.

The evil Meccans specifically took a different route to avoid the Muslims, but the Muslims wanted that sweet, sweet cash and attacked the caravan anyway. They took a shitload of silver straight to Mohammed.

It is at this point that the Meccans said “you know what? fuck this shit”, prompting the Battle of Uhud, which is a mountain near Medina. Uhud did not go very well for the Muslim army; Mohammed’s troops were poorly disciplined and left themselves open to cavalry attacks from the Quraysh. About as many Muslims died at Uhud as Meccans had died at Badr. So the Quraysh went back to Mecca, feeling confident that they’d taught Mohammed a lesson, rather than pursue his people into Medina.

Mohammed’s pride was badly wounded by the whole incident, and he needed to raise his army’s morale. So the day immediately following the battle, he ordered his some of his men to chase down the Meccans as they were headed home. The two armies seem to have tried to play psychological games with one another without actually engaging each other, but nothing came of it--the Quraysh made their way back to Mecca and Mohammed’s men went back to Medina. A couple of weaker sources say that Mohammed’s guys were able to capture a small number of Meccan soldiers and kill them, though Ibn Ishaq doesn’t say this. Regardless, the whole incident appears to have just been Mohammed letting his men release some frustration after losing a battle, similar to the Meccans attacking the field after Badr back in the last section.

With the Quraysh victorious and out of reach for the moment, Mohammed turned his wrath on smaller enemies, namely regional Bedouin (desert nomadic people) clans who refused to embrace Islam. This period contains a lot of “Mohammed ‘learns’ that some small clan somewhere is planning on attacking Medina and has to go attack them first, clan flees in terror, Mohammed steals their shit” incidents in Ibn Saad’s sira, though the motives usually go unstated in Ibn Ishaq’s. The victims of Mohammed’s fuckery this time were the Banu Asad bin Khuzayma in Najd (east of Hijaz, central modern-day Saudi Arabia). Upon arriving at the site, all the Muslims found were three shepherds with their flocks. The poor unlucky souls were taken captive and their animals were taken as “war booty”.

This happened yet again with another clan from the Najd area, the Banu Lahyan. This time, though, Ibn Hishsm says that Mohammed sent an assassin instead of an army and had him shank the chief of the clan. Abdullah ibn Unais was the assassin in question; the chief lost his head, which was brought back to Mohammed as a trophy.

Unfortunately the Banu Lahyan did not react very well to the murder of their chief and the desecration of his corpse. They bribed two guys, who went to Mohammed and pretended to be Muslims, asking him to send some of his own men to their clan to teach them all about Islam. Mohammed didn’t believe them and sent ten spies with them disguised as missionaries. Naturally, they were ambushed along the way by the Banu Lahyan, who wanted to take them captive in order to get money for the life of their chief. The Muslims refused to be taken alive.

Allah’s Messenger (ﷺ) sent a Sariya [detachment] of ten men as spies under the leadership of `Asim bin Thabit … About two-hundred men, who were all archers, hurried to follow their tracks … When `Asim and his companions saw their pursuers, they went up a high place and the infidels circled them. The infidels said to them, “Come down and surrender, and we promise and guarantee you that we will not kill any one of you” `Asim bin Thabit; the leader of the Sariya said, “By Allah! I will not come down to be under the protection of infidels.

Of the ten, eight died in the fighting there. The remaining two were traded for money in Mecca… unfortunately to people whose family members they had killed at Badr, and they also died. (The whole hadith above is worth reading… it involves shaving pubes, magic grapes, and Allah sending bees. Everything in the hadith that occurs in Mecca is obviously made up, as all of these people died and no one but the dead would know these details, but it seems like the incident itself did happen.)

After this was a more serious incident that was very similar to the one above. The second one is called “the incident at Bir Maona” and follows the same pattern: a guy says he wants Mohammed to send missionaries to his clan to teach them about Islam, Mohammed sends some people (the numbers are uncertain; some say 40, another source says “70” but that number just means, basically, “dozens”), they get ambushed along the way, the ambushers promise not to harm them, a fight ensues, and all but two get killed, again. The perpetrators had various reasons for loathing Mohammed; some clans had been attacked by his followers, others were allied with people who had been attacked. They did not go easy on them.

But while he was reporting the message of the Prophet, they beckoned to one of their men who stabbed him to death. My maternal uncle said, "Allah is Greater! By the Lord of the Kaaba, I am successful.” After that they attacked the rest of the party and killed them all except a lame man who went up to the top of the mountain. (Hammam, a sub-narrator said, “I think another man was saved along with him).”

Mohammed was very unhappy.

For thirty days Allah’s Messenger (ﷺ) invoked Allah to curse those who had killed the companions of Bir-Mauna; he invoked evil upon the tribes of Ral, Dhakwan, and Usaiya who disobeyed Allah and His Apostle. There was revealed about those who were killed at Bir-Mauna a Qur'anic Verse we used to recite, but it was cancelled later on. The verse was: “Inform our people that we have met our Lord. He is pleased with us and He has made us pleased.”

This verse is no longer in the Quran. It was “cancelled”. Don’t ask me why. I think it was because the phrasing made it sound like the dead people were talking instead of Allah, so Mohammed changed it, possibly to 3:169.

Anyway, the two incidents above are so similar that I have to wonder if the details of them sort of blended together (or were heavily embellished). But the Bedouins’ overall resistance to the True Religion was noted and Mohammed filed that knowledge away to deal with it later.

Remember the Banu Nadir Jews, involved in the field incident? Well, besides killing that one poet after Badr, Mohammed held off on dealing with them for a while. But after the above, he was pissed off and needed someone to take his anger out on. This brings us to our second of three incidents with The Jewz. Like the Banu Qaynuqa, the triggering incident (the whole thing with Sallam helping the Meccans is not mentioned here, which also leads me to think it was bullshit) described by the histories is extremely petty.

Here’s the rundown from Ibn Ishaq. One of Mohammed’s followers, Amr bin Umayya, promises two dudes from the Banu Kilab clan that he won’t hurt them and then kills them while they’re sleeping, ostensibly because he thinks they were involved in Bir Maona (the guys were in fact unrelated to the incident and were given orders of protection from Mohammed himself).

To keep the clan from hating him, Mohammed promises the victims’ families that he’ll pay them for the murders. Despite the fact that the dude has plenty of money at this point (see the raids from the last section), he goes to the Banu Nadir and asks them to pay the money, because they’re close to the Banu Kilab. The Banu Nadir agree to this, presumably because they saw what happened to their Jewish brethren when they even mildly upset Mohammed.

None of this really has anything to do with the reason why the Banu Nadir got kicked out of Medina. Rather, what happened is that while Mohammed was at the Banu Nadir’s place outside the city discussing this matter, “Allah” told him that one of the Jews was going to assassinate him by dropping a rock on his head. So Mohammed left and returned to Medina’s city limits. …Yes, really. This is seriously what happened, according to Ibn Ishaq.

When Mohammed’s baffled followers found him again, he informed them of what “Allah” told him, then instructed them to get an army together.

he told them of the treachery which the Jews mediated against him. The apostle ordered them to prepare for war and to march against them. Then he went off with the men until he came upon them.

The Banu Nadir at this point are completely fucked because they have no way of defending themselves against Mohammed’s baseless allegations, as “it was a revelation from Allah” functions as a trump card for Mohammed’s followers. Like the Banu Qaynuqa, the Banu Nadir had absolutely zero hope of winning any fight. A siege lasting between one and two weeks followed, with the Muslim besiegers destroying the date palm trees that shielded the Banu Nadir’s quarters, and the Banu Nadir surrendered unconditionally with no loss of life recorded on either side. Also like the Banu Qaynuqa, the Banu Nadir Jews were allowed to either convert or leave. Their property and any possessions left behind were taken by Mohammed for himself and his family.

The properties abandoned by Banu Nadir were the ones which Allah bestowed upon His Apostle for which no expedition was undertaken either with cavalry or camelry. These properties were particularly meant for the Prophet (ﷺ). He would meet the annual expenditure of his family from the income thereof, and would spend what remained for purchasing horses and weapons as preparation for Jihad.

This story is told all sorts of ways in early Islamic history books, with the same endpoint but differing descriptions of what, exactly, the dastardly Jews were planning on doing. The most likely explanation for these differing accounts is just that there was no obvious reason for their expulsion so people had to make up stories about it. Regardless, the Banu Nadir, rather than fleeing far to the north like most of their Banu Qaynuqa brethren, stayed relatively close by in a Jewish settlement called Khaybar. It would prove to be a mistake.

We haven’t talked about the Quraysh in Mecca for a while–most of Mohammed’s conflict in the last section involved Bedouin in the Najd and the Jews in Medina. But he did not forget the blow to his ego that was Uhud. Oh no. He remembered, and in 626 AD, he set out to prove his prophet credentials to his followers. He returned to the scene of his first and greatest glory, Badr.

After the previous battle, the leader of the Meccan army (Abu Sufyan) told his people that they would likely face the Muslims again the same time next year. But when this period actually came, he decided against it. Ibn Saad:

When the period came to a close, Abu Sufyan was reluctant to march. (In the meantime) Nu’aym Ibn Mas’ud al-Ashja’I arrived in Makkah, Abu Sufyan said to him: I made a promise to confront Muhammad and his companions at Badr. That time has come, but this is a year of drought while a year of plenitude and prosperity suits us.

Abu Sufyan told Nuam (a deeply sketchy character we’ll come across again later) to try to convince Mohammed not to fight by exaggerating the size of the Meccan forces, but Mohammed didn’t fall for it. He was rearing to fight and wasn’t gonna let the Meccans chicken out on him. So he marched his men out to Badr and waited. But the Meccans really did not want to fight and went straight back to Mecca without engaging with the Muslims. This reasonable action (there really was a drought) is naturally presented as a sign of the Meccans’ cowardice in Islamic texts. In reality, they probably should have gone through with the battle, because by not engaging in war, they allowed the Muslim army to look like they’d scared them off and established dominance. This shifted perceptions of Mohammed’s army in the region and made tribes consider aligning with him.

This was followed by a few more raids that followed an identical pattern, the most notable of which occurred very far to the north, in Dumat al-Jandal (the north of modern-day Saudi Arabia). Mohammed heard rumors that there were brigands of some kind making trouble there and laughably told his followers that they were going to attack Medina (they are hundreds miles of desert away from each other). The troops were gathered yet again and marched off to meet this clear and present danger and yet again never found their phantom enemy. It is very likely that this was Mohammed’s way of showing his strength to the Christians of northern Arabia in preparation of a wider Islamic conquest, which would begin a few years later. Mohammed was clearly feeling as though he had supplanted the Meccans as the dominant force in the region and wanted people to know it.

(Many years later, during the Tabouk expedition, Dumat al-Jandal would be one of the cities forced to pay jizya to the Muslims. And three years after that, during the conflict called the “Ridda Wars” that occurred immediately after Mohammed’s death–when unhappily converted people and those made to pay jizya turned against Abu Bakr and Islam in general–the city rebelled against their overlords and was crushed by the caliphate’s army.)

Mohammed’s raids got bolder around this time. The pattern (accuse people of conspiring against him, attack them, steal their shit) held, but sneak attacks began to be used to prevent the whole “flee in terror” middle step. Also in the year 626 AD was an attack upon a clan called Banu Mustaliq, living halfway between Medina and Mecca. The attack was sudden.

The Messenger of Allah (ﷺ) made a raid upon Banu Mustaliq while they were unaware and their cattle were having a drink at the water. He killed those who fought and imprisoned others.

Mohammed “married” the daughter of the chief of that clan after she was enslaved, and his men raped the other women (except for the ones related to Mohammed’s new wife, as raping the siblings and cousins of your beloved prophet’s wife is not a good look). This raid is mentioned in a hadith in which Mohammed discussed with his men whether using the pull-out method vs splooging in their sex slaves’ vaginas was preferable. Enjoy reading that if you want.

We are now entering the year 627 AD and shit gets increasingly real. 626 marked the beginning of Islam becoming a genuinely dominant force in the region, and in 627 those who had opposed Mohammed were either defeated or drastically reduced in power.

In January of this year, several of the people Mohammed had pissed off over the years attempted to finally deal with the situation in Medina. The Quraysh had the opportunity to do this all the way back at Uhud, recall, but no one had actually tried it until now. So the Meccans teamed up with the Banu Nadir, the remainders of the Banu Qaynuqa in the area, and some clans of the Ghatafan and asked them to help besiege Medina.

Mohammed knew they were coming and the Muslims dug a trench along the side of the city facing the direction that the Meccans were coming from in order to stop any advance on horseback (the other side of Medina faced mountainous terrain). This was possibly done on the advice of a Persian man living with them, who knew the tactic well from his homeland. The siege was, like the offensive sieges we’ve already seen, tedious and involved very few casualties. For a little over three weeks the besiegers tried to find an opening but couldn’t; occasionally someone would fire an arrow at the other side, but only five people were killed in total. Irritated, the Quraysh finally just asked Mohammed to send one of his fighters out to settle the battle in a traditional Arab one-on-one duel. He sent Ali, who won, and the besiegers began to suspect that this whole exercise was pointless. The two sides spent most of the rest of the siege yelling insults at one another like a Monty Python movie.

At this point the intrigue shifts to inside Mohammed’s camp. If you recall, there were three large Jewish tribes living near Medina when Mohammed got there. He expelled two of them, but the third was still around. This was the Banu Qurayza. The Banu Qurayza were fairly uninvolved in all of the above–they had assisted the Muslims in digging the trench, but they weren’t fighting on either side. But during the siege, Huyayy ibn Akhtab (the leader of the Banu Nadir) came to his co-religionists to talk to them. He was initially turned away, but later let in. Ibn Kathir:

[Qurayza leader] Ka`b said to him, “No, by Allah, this is the opportunity for humiliation. Woe to you, O Huyay, you are a bad omen. Leave us alone.”

News of the meeting between Huyayy and the leader of the Banu Qurayza began to spread inside Medina, fueling rumors that terrified the population, convincing them that a surprise attack was coming while they were still besieged. Had this been true, it would have been a disaster, because the Qurayza lived on the other side of Medina–the undefended side, right against the mountain. They had weapons (they sold weapons as part of their trade) and men to use them. If they had attacked Medina on one side with the tribes distracting the Muslims on the other, it is entirely possible that Medina would have fallen.

But the Qurayza never made a move to attack Medina in any way; if they even sincerely thought of joining the siege, the thought clearly did not last long. Muslims sowed distrust between the Qurayza and the alliance of tribes besieging Medina, and the besiegers were already thinking of heading back home anyway. If the Qurayza didn’t make a move soon, the alliance said they’d just leave. Several sources recount a rather convenient story in which they swear the Qurayza did agree to attack Medina, but the planned attack fell on the sabbath day, so they didn’t actually do anything. Hmm.

When the siege ended and the Meccans and Ghatafan clans left, Huyayy remained with the Qurayza. Some history books say he had the opportunity to flee, but chose the honorable option of remaining with the Qurayza, knowing that their impending punishment was partially his fault.

The failure of the siege was a serious blow to the reputation of the Quraysh and another sign that Mohammed’s armies were becoming the supreme armed force in the area.

All that the Qurayza had done, as far as anyone could prove, was remain uninvolved in the siege and talk to Huyayy, who had been labeled a traitor by Mohammed’s enemies by the end of the siege. They had not marched on Medina. They had not killed a single Muslim. In fact the siege as a whole was virtually bloodless, and it was kept that way by the Qurayza refusing to fight alongside the Meccans. (This is explained in some Islamic history books by stating that the Qurayza were going to fight, but the chosen day of their sneak attack fell on the Sabbath, so they told the Quraysh they couldn’t do it. Convenient!)

But the lack of blood didn’t matter. What mattered was that the Qurayza had possibly entertained the thought, even for one moment, of going against Mohammed. The Qaynuqa and Nadir had been on the receiving end of the first Muslim expulsions of Jews. The Qurayza would be on the receiving end of the first Muslim massacre of Jews.

Immediately after the besiegers left, Mohammed informed his troops that Jibreel, the angel who talked to him on occasion (who no one else could see), had given him a command. Allah wanted the Qurayza dead.

Then Gabriel whose head was covered with dust, came to him saying, “You have put down your arms! By Allah, I have not put down my arms yet.” Allah’s Messenger (ﷺ) said, “Where (to go now)?” Gabriel said, “This way,” pointing towards the tribe of Bani Quraiza. So Allah’s Messenger (ﷺ) went out towards them.

And so another siege began, this time with the Muslims being the besiegers. It lasted about as long as the previous siege had, and like the other two sieges of Jewish quarters, ended with the unconditional surrender of the Jews. It is very likely that the Qurayza expected the same fate to befall them as befell their coreligionists, namely exile. But Allah was no longer in the mood to simply send Jews packing. Instead, by both “Allah’s will” and the suggestion of one of the leaders of the Medinan Muslim tribes, all the Qurayza men were to be put to death and their property, women, and children “distributed” to the Muslims. The only ones who would escape either death or slavery were those who converted to Islam on the spot. Boys were differentiated from men by having them drop their pants; those who had pubic hair were deemed “men” and executed.

Those whose pubic hair had grown were killed, and those whose pubic hair had not yet grown were let go.

The men of the Qurayza were brought into Medina’s center. Mohammed had ordered some shallow trenches dug into the ground there. Hundreds of men and boys, between 600 and 800 of them, were marched to the trenches. One by one they were beheaded. Huyayy was killed along with them.

Huyayy was brought out wearing a flowered robe in which he had made holes about the size of the finger-tips in every part so that it should not be taken from him as spoil, with his hands bound to his neck by a rope. When he saw the apostle he said, ‘By God, I do not blame myself for opposing you, but he who forsakes God will be forsaken.’ Then he went to the men and said, 'God’s command is right. A book and a decree, and massacre have been written against the Sons of Israel.’ Then he sat down and his head was struck off.

Huyayy’s people, the Banu Nadir, had fled to Khaybar, which was around 100 miles directly north of Medina. But the Banu Qurayza would meet their end in Medina. One woman died after going insane watching her relatives die, according to a hadith judged hasan (of good reputability).

No woman of Banu Qurayzah was killed except one. She was with me, talking and laughing on her back and belly (extremely), while the Messenger of Allah (ﷺ) was killing her people with the swords. … The man took her and beheaded her. She [Aisha] said: I will not forget that she was laughing extremely although she knew that she would be killed.

It was the complete and utter destruction of the Banu Qurayza. The tribe never existed again. Hundreds more people died on this one day than had died in all the conflicts between Muslims and their many enemies, combined, before this.

In case anyone missed the message that Mohammed was sending, a few years later he told all remaining Jews from other clans (who lived in Medina in small numbers) to get out of the city and never come back unless they wanted to convert.

He exiled all the Jews from Medina. They were the Jews of Bani Qainuqa’, the tribe of `Abdullah bin Salam and the Jews of Bani Haritha and all the other Jews of Medina.

Like the “pin” incident with the Qaynuqa and the rock incident with the Nadir, the Banu Qurayza’s main fault was being Jewish. Whatever they really discussed with the besiegers, the Qurayza never actually did anything to betray Mohammed; Medina was in fact saved by their lack of betrayal. It didn’t matter. The three large Jewish clans of Medina had been a thorn in Mohammed’s side for years and 627 AD was when he finally got rid of them for good. The only Jews remaining in the city were those who lived among the polytheistic clans and some small, politically insignificant clans that posed no threat to Mohammed’s power.

Those who lived outside Medina were safe, but only for the moment. They would be dealt with later in the year. Learn what happens in the thrilling conclusion!!!

#islam #history #rant

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olicitysecretsanta · 7 years ago

Text

William's First Hanukkah

Dear @fistis,

I hope you have a very happy holidays!!! This exchange helped me get over a specific writing fear of mine, so in a way you gave me a gift as well. I hope this season and next year bring you joy and dreams coming true :-)

Best,

@imusuallyobsessed

XXX

Also extra thanks and love to @acheaptrickandacheesyoneline who gave me the idea that led to this fic! And as a disclaimer, I do not celebrate Hanukkah. My knowledge came from the Internet and some Jewish members of the Olicity community who’ve helped me out. If I got anything wrong, please kindly point it out and I will be more than happy to change it! It isn’t ever my intention to offend anyone, and any errors are only from ignorance.

Rated T - light M

William’s First Hanukkah

Felicity’s phone buzzed on the massive island in the kitchen. She looked over her shoulder, only diverting her attention from the stove for a brief second to confirm it was Oliver texting. She’d been expecting him, since sunset was mere minutes away and her boys still weren’t home.

After the… crisis with Earth-X, Felicity and Oliver had come back from Central City and fit their lives together seamlessly. William was extremely receptive to her having married his dad unexpectedly, and Felicity moved in the next weekend.

Sizzling oil brought Felicity back to the present and she had just enough time to save the last two latkes before turning off the flame and picking up her phone.

‘Sorry hon, traffic jam. Accident on Jefferson. Be home ASAP ;-*’

The Green Arrow using emojis still made Felicity’s heart flutter.

She glanced out the window. Sunset was coming soon, but she could wait to light the menorah if she was waiting for members of her family. William had an after-school program for advanced students – the swell of pride she felt for him left no doubt that he was her son, whether or not she called him mom – and Oliver always picked him up after work for some father-son bonding time. They were running late, and Felicity could practically feel Oliver’s stress through the phone. He hated being late or anything running off schedule, but especially today.

This year would be the first year they did Hanukkah together, as a couple. And William wanted to participate. The apartment was decorated in a mix of blue and silver, and red and green. The Christmas tree sat in a corner by the TV, happily draped in rainbow lights and ornaments. Her mezuzah had gone up on one of the pillars that stood at the edge of the kitchen and framed her and Oliver’s bedroom door. The menorah sat opposite it, since the apartment was too high to have it placed in the windows, on a table Oliver had bought specifically to showcase it.

They’d begun decorating on the first of December, and Oliver had presented her with the table. He’d been bashful and unsure, which was absolute kryptonite for Felicity. But of course, he had nothing to worry about. The table was at the perfect height for lighting and was mostly decorative, but along the legs and edges were carvings that told the story of Hanukkah. She’d cried for about half an hour when she opened it, even video chatting her mom so they could marvel over it together.

Once she’d calmed down, the three of them finished making the apartment the perfect Christmas/Hanukkah hybrid. She tried to tell her boys that Hanukkah wasn’t even one of the major Jewish holidays, but they’d looked so distraught at her not being represented equally that she gave in to Oliver’s tendency to overshop for others. The apartment was now an even 50/50 split between the two winter holidays.

She looked back to her phone, a soft smile dominating her face.

‘I hope William is texting or you’re using the voice feature. No texting and driving! Be safe! See you both soon.’

Felicity went back to her Hanukkah feast, laid out on the island. She couldn’t cook anything to save her life, except for latkes, brisket, and sufganiyot. She’d left work early that day – perks of working with one of her best friends and being her own boss – and gotten to work on the time-consuming dinner.

Her phone buzzed again, and Felicity couldn’t suppress another smile when she saw the message.

‘Don’t worry, it’s William. Gotta keep dad on the straight and narrow. He made me add the emoji. We’re a few minutes away!’

Felicity settled against the island with a nice glass of her favorite anytime-wine. (She wasn’t entirely kosher. Sue her). Oliver might insist they bring out the fancy stuff for tonight, but she’d save that for when they were together.

A few minutes later, the last dying rays of the sun were filtering through the apartment windows and her boys hustled through the front door.

“Hi Felicity!” William said, puttering halfway past the island before he froze and looked at the counter. “Did you cook?”

“Hon?” Oliver called from the door, having overheard his son. Worry sharpened his voice. Felicity couldn’t blame him. Her cooking ventures didn’t usually go well.

“Don’t worry, my love!” Felicity went to her husband – she was still giddy she could call him that – and went up on her toes to kiss his lips. He returned the affection – always did – but Felicity saw his worried eyes flicker to the kitchen.

Felicity took his hand and led the way. “No fire alarms, no smoke damage, and all your pans made it out alive. I promise.” When the counter came into view, Felicity swept her non-wine-glass hand out like Vanna White. “On your left, you’ll find the three dishes in all the land I can actually cook.”

William was already poking around, sniffing at the food suspiciously (Felicity couldn’t be offended after the Great Pancake Reckoning), but his eyes began to clear of worry and brighten.

“Are these donuts?” he asked.

“Sufganiyot. But yeah, basically jelly donuts.”

Oliver absently kissed her head, his arm wrapping around her waist. “This looks great, hon. I’m impressed. But shouldn’t we…?”

“Yes, of course! Follow me, boys.”

Felicity went to the menorah and began to assemble the accoutrements. She still had her old menorah from college in a place of honor on the coffee table, but it was encouraged to have the best menorah possible to show deference to God. Donna had applied her tried-and-true Jewish mother guilt to get Felicity to buy a new, gleaming silver one. “The shamash candle is the one in the middle, and we light all the other candles from it. Begin by placing the candles from right to left.” Felicity placed the first candle of Hanukkah in the far-right receptacle. “Each night we add a new candle from right to left, but light them left to right.”

Oliver knew all this already, but he and William watched her with identical expression of rapt concentration. It was times like these when Felicity saw the resemblance between them.

“First we light the shamash candle.” Felicity did so, picking it up in her right hand. “Then before we light the Hanukkah candle, we recite the blessing. Ba-ruch A-tah Ado-nai…”

She’d practiced this with her boys, but made sure to still speak slowly and clearly so they could follow along. They also recited the special blessing for the first night, then Felicity lit the Hanukkah candle and replaced the shamash candle.

Oliver had dimmed the lights on their way over to light the menorah, so the two dancing flames lit their faces in a warm glow.

After a few moments of relishing the lights, William asked, “What now, Felicity?” His voice was low and something like reverent. Felicity felt a swell of happiness and love that he took her traditions so seriously.

Oliver held out his arm and Felicity slotted into her place against his side. Then, she held out her hand to William and pulled him in. He was still very preteen-boy about affection, but in the privacy of their home he was much more open to hugs from his dad and step-mom.

“Now, we admire the lights for a little while, sing songs, and maybe I can tell you two the story of Hanukkah. Then, after half an hour, we eat.”

“We have to wait half an hour?” William asked, and Felicity could see visions of sufganiyot dancing in his head.

“This is Felicity’s show,” Oliver interjected, using his best Dad Voice. It got to Felicity almost as much as his Green Arrow Voice, which had been an unexpected pleasure. “She’s teaching us, and we’re learning. So if she says we have to wait half an hour, we have to wait.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay Dad.”

Felicity looked up at her husband and saw that special type of happiness settle over his face that he got whenever William called him ‘Dad.’ She went up on her toes and he met her halfway, their lips sharing a brief caress before she went flat-footed again and ruffled William’s hair.

“We admire the lights to remember God’s miracle and protection. More than 2000 years ago, the land of Israel was taken over by Antiochus III, the King of Syria…”

Thirty minutes later, after the story was told, Felicity shared some funny Hanukkah memories of her own, and they sang songs, it was finally time to eat.

Her boys told her to go sit and they would set the table. Father and son worked as a team to lay down the plates and cutlery while Oliver carried the heavy platters laden with food. Felicity watched the meal take shape around her, and grinned when Oliver poured her a glass of her favorite middle-expensive Malbec.

Oliver had bought a table when Felicity moved in, since three people couldn’t fit at the breakfast bar. It was a circle and on the smaller side, but Felicity liked being able to see everyone without turning her head too much.

Oliver and William marveled at her cooking, and Felicity let herself have one night to preen over successful food creations. It would likely be the only night of Hanukkah where she cooked, unless they wanted to have the same meal for eight nights. Oliver had been feverishly practicing other dishes, and Felicity was his willing taste tester. They were all delicious, of course.

But tonight was Felicity’s night, and she was going to embrace it.

“You’re moving in on my turf with this, Felicity,” Oliver pretended to complain.

Felicity laughed. “Don’t worry too much, my love.” She took his hand. “Unless both of you want to eat this same meal every night or takeout for the rest of forever, we still hopelessly rely on you.”

That made Oliver and William laugh, but Felicity knew the truth in her husband’s eyes. He liked knowing that his family needed him. Relied on him. Watching his family enjoy something he created with his own hands fulfilled him.

Near the end of dinner, after a few too many sufganiyot, Oliver and William kept exchanging pointed looks.

“Why do I feel like my favorite boys are keeping secrets from me?” Felicity asked, taking a lengthy sip of wine.

They shared another long look, then turned to Felicity with two identical pairs of big, pleading blue eyes. “I know we said no gifts…” Oliver began, and Felicity immediately groaned.

“Oliver, Hanukkah isn’t really a big Jewish holiday! And traditionally there’s no gift giving. And I already got to marry you and be in both your lives and – ”

Oliver leaned over and kissed her. Normally he wasn’t in the habit of silencing her babbles since he loved them so much, but occasionally she got off track. And this time, he wanted something from her.

Felicity leaned back. “I know what – ”

He kissed her again, lingering a little longer this time.

Finally, they parted and Felicity sighed. “I’m not winning this one, am I?”

William just widened his eyes further. “We love you, Felicity. And we want to show you. With gifts.”

Felicity’s heart melted. So, this was their plan. Ply her with kisses, then her stepson unleashed the puppy eyes and heart-warming declarations. Suddenly, her eyes started to water.

“Oh, baby,” Oliver said, taking her head. “Never mind. We don’t have to give gifts if you don’t want. I didn’t – ”

Felicity shook her head, wiping her eyes with her free hand. “No, it’s nothing like that.” She turned to William. “Did you mean that, or are you just saying that so I agree to gifts?”

William laughed and shook his head. “Felicity, come on.” She could tell he was struggling between his desires to reassure her and maintain his cool-kid persona. Finally, he cracked and rounded the table to envelop her in a hug. Felicity thought her heart might burst. “Of course, I love you.”

Tears. They were unstoppable, now. Tears of happiness and joy. The little girl who’d been abandoned by her father, celebrating Hanukkah in dingy, miniscule Vegas apartments, never could’ve imagined she would end up here, her husband and step-son with their arms wrapped around her and a heart so full of love.

“Okay, okay,” Felicity said after a few moments of relishing the hugs. “I’m fine.” She wiped her eyes. “I promise! I’m fine. No more water works.” William went back to his seat, and Oliver moved back until just his arm was slung across her chair.

“Want to go get our gifts, buddy?” Oliver asked, and William nodded and disappeared into his room.

Felicity stood and moved to the kitchen, a confused Oliver trailing behind her. “I may be a bit of a hypocrite,” she said, opening the cabinet that housed her one allotted shelf of junk food that Oliver never touched. Behind a box of hot fudge sundae poptarts sat a hand-sized box wrapped in blue paper with a silver ribbon.

Oliver was a warm presence at her back, hand on her waist as she came down from her toes and turned in his arms to show him the box. “It’s for William,” she said, looking up at her husband from under her lashes. They were bare inches from each other, sharing the same air, the same heat, and Felicity saw Oliver’s eyes go black.

She tilted her head up, bringing their lips closer together. “Your gift isn’t exactly…” Eyes down, then up. Locking on Oliver’s, “fit for public consumption,” she murmured, hooking a finger in the collar of her Hanukkah sweater and pulling it down.

Her husband’s burning eyes dragged down her face and neck like a caress before he saw what she had under her sweater. He took a deep breath, pulling Felicity in even as he moved closer. He turned her to the counter, pressing his leg between hers, bending his head down…

“Here they are!”

They didn’t spring apart, but they did move to a more PG position. This wasn’t the first time William had walked in on Oliver and Felicity in some state of affection, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Felicity thought it probably did him a bit of good to see his father in a happy, committed relationship. Surely that was in some parenting book somewhere?

“Guys, seriously?” he asked, standing in the living room with two gifts in each hand and an exasperated expression.

Oliver and Felicity laughed, returning to the living room and taking spots on the couch. William sat on the ottoman, Oliver sat on the couch, and Felicity sat close to him, her legs draped across his lap. William eyed the present in Felicity’s hand and raised his eyebrows.

“Oh, don’t give me that look,” Felicity mock-growled. “It’s been a big year. And you’re a kid. And it’s your first Hanukkah.”

“I’m not a kid – ”

“Pardon me, young adult. Either way, it’s customary that the younger members of the family get gifts.”

“Sure, sure. Do you want to open first?” William asked, holding out the gifts in his hands.

Felicity shook her head and held out the box in her hand. “You first.”

William’s face lit up and he tore into the metallic blue paper. Inside the box he found a disc, and once the initial confusion passed his face lit up.

“You… made me a video game?” he asked, turning the disc so Oliver could see it. Original artwork showed a digitalized version of William and the words “The Adventures of Will the Wise.” Oliver didn’t say anything, but his tightened grip around Felicity’s shoulders. His eyes said more than his mouth ever could. They shined with love and a little disbelief, like he couldn’t believe the life in front of him.

Felicity nodded. “I know Will is your favorite in Stranger Things, so I coded this game with an original story. It’s part Steven King, part Bioshock, with some D&D elements, and options for multi-player or story mode. It works on your existing consoles.”

William’s face fell. “Now I feel like my gift for you isn’t cool enough,” he groused. Felicity was already shaking her head.

“Whatever you got me, it’ll be perfect. Because it came from you,” she said with a smile.

William’s face went red, high on his cheeks, but he nodded sharply and pushed the two gifts into her hands.

Felicity opened William’s first, and found a USB drive disguised as a tube of lipstick. It was her aesthetic and absolutely perfect. She thanked William profusely and gave him a kiss on the cheek he pretended he hated.

Oliver’s gift was next, and he surprised her with a ninety-minute massage at one of the premier spas in Star City. She hadn’t given up her heels despite working with only Curtis from the old loft, and she often complained about her legs and feet hurting. It was intimate, sweet, and entirely Oliver. If Felicity knew anything about her husband, the gifts would only get more extravagant as the days went by. He liked to spoil the people he loved.

The trio put their gifts away and settled back in the living room to watch William play his new game. After several hours, it was time for bed.

“It might be the first night of Hanukkah, but it’s also a school night,” Oliver said, hustling the preteen through his night routine. Felicity began putting the dishes and leftovers away, still floating through the warm glow of one of the best first nights of Hanukkah on record.

Once William was down and his door was closed. Oliver turned to Felicity. Their eyes locked across the apartment, and Oliver stalked to her. There was no other word for it. His eyes went dark, and he moved soundlessly through the apartment. Felicity stayed still, more than willing to be caught, and Oliver met her in a rush of dark eyes and heat.

Felicity went up on her toes, expecting a kiss, before she somehow ended up ass over tea kettle, slung over Oliver’s shoulder and staring at his delicious butt in his jeans.

“Oliver!” she whisper-shouted, doing her best to keep quiet for William’s sake. Her husband began to carry her through the apartment. “What the frack? Put me down!”

Oliver had one arm holding her lower back to keep her on his shoulder, and used his free hand to pat her ass. Slightly harder than necessary. “Don’t worry, hon. I gotcha.”

Before she could protest again, they were in their room, Oliver kicked the door shut, and dropped her on the bed.

“Now, Mrs. Queen. Let’s revisit what’s under this sweater.” He stood in front of her, body between her parted legs, his hands running across her neck and shoulders.

Felicity threw her head back and sighed contentedly, reveling in the feeling of Oliver’s hands on her. Her own roamed across his powerful thighs, climbing up the back of his pants to one of her favorite parts of him.

“You know, you’re the only one who gets to call me that, Mr. Smoak,” she said, grinning when Oliver growled at her ministrations.

Oliver’s hands dipped below the neck of her sweater, running across the smooth satin and smoother skin he found. “We agreed you’re Mrs. Smoak-Queen everywhere else, but Mrs. Queen in our bed,” he growled.

“Hmm.” Felicity tilted her head, pursing her lips. “I seem to remember something about that.” Felicity leaned back and somehow – in a flash of unexpected grace – got her sweater and leggings off in mostly the same go.

Underneath was Oliver’s present: a dark green and black corset and panty set that just happened to match the exact green of his suit.

“Felicity,” he breathed, his eyes so dilated there was nothing but a thin ring of blue as he took her in from head to toe. When he looked at her like that, like she was everything good right in front of him, she really felt the precious gift of his love, his tremulously beating heart, placed tentatively yet boldly in her hands. “I love you.”

That was all he needed to say. No sweeping metaphors or grand declarations. His tone said it all, deep and true and filled with love.

“I thought you’d like it,” she said, moving further up the bed to make room for Oliver crawling after her. She couldn’t keep the smile off her face. She knew what was going to happen. He knew what was going to happen. Everyone was happy with the projected outcome.

“Come on, my love.” She laid on the pillows, arching her back and keeping her eyes on her husband. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

He didn’t.

After they spent the first night of Hanukkah wrapped in each other’s arms, Felicity curled up naked against her equally naked husband, thinking about the gift for Oliver she was saving for the last night of Hanukkah. It was mostly sentiment, since Felicity used the implant, but she was sure Oliver would understand what the empty birth control packet meant.

Timing would never he right. And she wanted to grow her family with Oliver.

This was gearing up to be the most memorable Hanukkah yet.

###

#olicity #olicity fic #olicity fanfic #olicity secret santa 2017 #submission

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lokisgame · 7 years ago

Text

Ghosts Of Our Fathers

When we sat down with @frizzyhairedbitch85 to re-watch Beyond The Sea, I never suspected how much fun it will be. This fic came from the black hole of emotional continuity behind Mulder’s tenderness and use of first names. I hope I managed to do do it justice and set it up in a more believable way.

The doorbell rang and she climbed of the ladder, careful not to break any bones in the process. She was expecting the call, unofficially of course. She’d never call Mulder out on bothering her at home, she knew better than that. He was terrible with boundaries and living with it was apparently a part of the job. Scully looked at the window, half dressed in green garland and red ribbons and thought about risking some payback. “Coming!” She called when the knocking paused for a second, and sure enough, there was Mulder, nose red, warm woolen mittens and a file folder in hand. “Good evening, I hope I’m not interrupting anything” he said looking around noticing the boxes and ladder and the half dressed tree. “No, you’re not, but can I ask you a favor?” He looked a little unsure but he was already inside and it wouldn’t be polite to run away from your partner. “Of course, what do you need?” “I need a pair of long arms” she smiled and he couldn’t just let that slide. “You’d think medicine would find a cure for that by now” he joked as she took his coat. “It’s on the list, right after cancer and bad sense of humor” he grinned in a touché sort of way and spread his arms “What do you need me to do”

“Can you climb on that ladder and pin the garland over the curtains? I’ve been at it for almost an hour and I can’t see it when I’m up there, climbing up and down” “Say no more Scully, just tell me when it looks right” “Thanks” He climbed the ladder and pulled what needed to be pulled, moved and loosened, pined and tugged, following instructions surprisingly well, given their history of working together. “You must really love Christmas, Scully” he said pinning a red ribbon she handed to him to the garland. “My favorite time of the year, you don’t?” She chanced, ready for an evasive remark or a joking comment. “I’m half jewish, half atheist, so not really, Christmas was more of a social event when my parent still did social things” he paused, and Scully realized this wasn’t exactly the most comfortable subject “my dad was the one, who was most vehemently against the idea, claiming it was a waste of time.” “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked” she lowered her gaze, suddenly very interested in the pattern of her carpet. “It’s okay, with Sam gone, no one was exactly in the mood to celebrate anything without her” his tone confirmed, that he wasn’t offended but she wasn’t sure if she was comforted “one thing’s for sure, even if the moods were sour, the dinner on those days was always a bit more special” “My dad always made us take the tree down a day after Christmas” she said out of the blue, knowing the second she said it, that she had nothing to complain about next to Mulder’s story “now I keep it up at least until Three Kings” “You go girl, show him who’s boss” they both laughed as Mulder pinned the last bow in the corner of the window and climbed down, eager to help now that he was already at it “What else you need long arms for around here?” “Nothing, that’s all, thank you” she smiled sweetly and took the safety pins from his hands “what’s in the file?” “Oh, just some last minute details from our arson case, if you’re still interested” Mulder passed her the file. As he did, he spotted an angel still in her box, waiting to take her place of honor on top of the tree. Without waiting for Scully to say so, he took the ornament out and lifted it silently asking her approval. She looked up from the file and nodded with a small smile so he placed the angel on top of the tree, smoothing down her skirts and straightening gold wings. “The man heals uncommonly fast” she noted paging through the file, looking at blood work and notes of the attending physician. “Yeah, it’s unfair that this scum gets to live when good people have died for his twisted fantasies” “He won’t get much of a life either way” seeing there was nothing more to do, he went to the door and she followed. “We’ll make sure of that” he assured her taking the coat from her hands. “My parents are coming to dinner sometime after Christmas, maybe you’d like to join us?” Scully tried to make it sound like no big deal, but Mulder the profiler saw right through her charity. “Thank you, but maybe some other time, enjoy your family time, Dana” she looked up, a little surprised by this breach of protocol, but his smile was also different from the one she knew, softer, open even “just remember me if there’s some leftover pie” He winked his funny slow wink, twisting the scarf around his neck, a choking hazard if anyone asked her. “I’ll see you after the holidays” he said, resting one hand on her arm in a friendly farewell “Merry Christmas” “Happy Hanukah Mulder” that made him chuckle. “Thanks, I’ll see you around” “Bye” She stared after him as he walked down the corridor and couldn’t stop herself from having the last word “Drive safely, it’s an ice rink out there” He didn’t turn, but she could feel the smile in the wave of his hand.

_____________

She finally convinced her mother to take something to calm her neves and help her sleep for at least a couple hours. Now Maggie was curled under a blanket on her bed and the clock was approaching 4am. She shut the bedroom door and went back to the couch. Her tea went cold and only light came from the tree she left on before any of the nights tragic events happened. The dinner they had just a few hours ago felt like a whole different lifetime. She had a long day ahead of her, arrangements to be made, people to notify. Bill and Missy already knew and she couldn’t reach Charlie, for which she was secretly grateful because these were the two hardest calls she had to make in her entire life. Still, there was one more call she needed to make tonight. She didn’t fear she’d wake him, he called her at the oddest hours more than once. Dialing Scully took a deep breath to calm her voice and thoughts, this was a business call. “Mulder” he sounded sleepy, she did wake him and instantly felt guilty. Too late to hang up now, so in hushed voice, for her mother’s sake, not because her confidence was someplace far away, she answered “It’s me” “Scully? What time is it? Did something happen?” She tried to convince herself that she didn’t drop her mask, it was the early hour in his voice not concern, this was business. “No” she shook her head as if he could see her and realized the stupidity of that lie before she finished the one syllable “I mean yes, I won’t be able to make it to the office tomorrow, today” she corrected herself and her voice failed her at the end. Mulder picked up on it instantly. “Are you okay?” There it was again, the urgency, the need to know everything. “I’m” her voice got lost somewhere, probably went looking for confidence, she felt tears rolling down her cheeks, Mulder waited patiently. “My father died five hours ago” she finally said, gathering the rest of her will and strength, before she squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip to stop the sobs. Saying it out loud for the third time made it irreversible and real. “Oh Scully, I’m so sorry” his warm voice fought it’s way through her tears and hit home. Pressing the receiver to her ear she let the tears flow, silently listening to his words of comfort “if is there anything I can do, just say the word. You have someone there with you? I can come over. Don’t worry about work, that doesn’t matter right now. Please, tell me if you need anything, anything at all” She finally took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down, wiping the tears with a clean, paper tissue she pulled from a box under the coffee table. “Thank you” feeling as if she spoke for the first time in months, her words sounded alien but calm “I’ll manage, I’m not alone, my mother is here” “Okay, but my offer still stands” Scully nodded, though again he couldn’t see her, words were still coming and going and speaking was a little beyond her right now. She moved to lean against the armrest and sinking deeper into the couch, spotted the angel on top of the tree and remembered Mulder putting her up and father mentioning the needles and mess. Mulder’s voice was a soothing hum in her ear and she was beginning to relax “you said he was a navy captain, they can arrange the funeral for you, I have a friend there, I can call him” “Mulder, I appreciate it, but my mother hasn’t decided anything yet” there it was, her voice and her calm, reoriented on his voice and ready to stand her ground. Not unkindly, he simply was her new normal and holding on to that, she could for a moment feel like herself again. “Whatever you say, but let me know if you change your mind” he was a good man, crazy, but good, her father... “You know, my dad never approved of me leaving medicine to join FBI” She heard the leather sofa creak on the other end of the line, a deep sigh. “Neither did mine, he never approved of my determination to find Sam, he said I was hurting mom bringing it up all the time” “But it never stopped you from searching” “No, neither did it make me stop wanting to please him somehow” she puled a blanket over herself and watched the tree, the angel there, her flowing skirts, Mulder’s voice soft in her ear “somehow, I imagined that if I could find her, we could be a family again” “You love this job and you will find her, we’ll find her” she could feel sleep calling her with his voice. “Yeah” was it hope she heard, or doubt, her mind was too foggy to decide “go to sleep Scully, come back when you’re ready, I’m really sorry for your loss, pass my condolences to the rest of your family” A mumbled thank you was all she could manage. “Good night” he said softly, but she couldn’t remember saying it back.

____________

Woken by the scent of coffee and bacon, her mother bustling around the kitchen, making breakfast for what looked like a platoon not two women grieving and with no appetite for food. Scully understood completely, it gave her something to do, a purpose other than seeing to the funeral. This was a connection to the living, living who still needed her. It was always her purpose, to live for others. Scully ate her food, like the obedient daughter she was. Maggie Scully decided to bury her husband with love. The arrangements were made through the funeral home, the ceremony was to be simple, only the family, the ashes given back to the waves and the winds. No one knew better than her, that those three were his only love in life, the navy was just a mean to an end. That second night, when Scully finally had the time to feel the loss was terrible. She cried and cried and even warm arms of her mother couldn’t stop the tears from falling. A card came with flowers from Mulder, and it now rested securely inside her pocket.

“May the winds take away your sorrow, May the water wash away your tears, The ones’ we lost still live within our memory.”

She didn’t sleep well, troubled dreams plagued her all night. She couldn’t get the vision out of her mind, she was sure she saw Ahab in a chair speaking to her, before she got the news. She was sure she saw something like that in Mulder’s files and she needed to understand. She couldn’t sit at home and watch the time go by, she needed to work. She needed to get out and feel normal even for just a few hours.

“I didn’t think you’d be in today” he ignored her quip completely, honestly concerned “how are you Dana” Still Dana, even for Mulder, the way he spoke her name came close to piercing her carefully constructed defenses. “I’m fine, thank you” she tried to smile and succeeded, determined to make this day as normal as possible. 9am office, Noon funeral, 2pm, back at the office or whatever they might have planned. It was the only way she could keep herself together, otherwise the grief would bury her at home for days. Just because she didn’t show them, it didn’t mean she didn’t have any feelings. She felt them deeply, but there was time and place for everything, this was work, and she counted on Mulder to proceed accordingly. “What are you working on?” her voice didn’t crack, she could do this. He presented the case as usual and it really worked, for a moment. He did try one last time to convince her to sit this one out, but in the end accepted her choice. “I need to work” “I’m sorry about your father” His hand rested on her cheek and there was comfort in his touch, strength and understanding, both for her grief and the way she wanted to cope with it. They set out for Raleigh, North Carolina, to face the ghosts of Mulder’s past and for the first time it was Mulder who seemed skeptical.

_______

Luther Lee Boggs was evil incarnate, ruthless killer and a liar, not even Mulder could trust him. Yet she saw him change, she heard the song, how could he do that? How could he know, Beyond The Sea, Starbuck, those were things even Mulder didn’t know. She sat in her hotel room surrounded by the restless sea and thought about the ghosts she saw, a ghost who still wasn’t speaking. She had to tell Mulder, he was her partner, she had to tell him how she found the warehouse because the lie was weighing on her heavily. His anger still took her by surprise.

“The bureau would expect something like that from “Spooky’ Mulder, but not Dana Scully” he lashed out and immediately felt guilty, the hurt in her eyes made him take a step back. He didn’t believe that, not from her, not really. “I thought that you’d be pleased that I opened myself to extreme possibilities” he would be, if for once they’d agree on something. “Why now? After all we’ve seen, why Boggs?” Mulder felt like he was missing some crucial detail “Does this have to do with your father?” Scully shook her head looking away and finally her body language said something he could understand. Her feelings were still raw and he wanted to help her, but he wasn’t ready to die if something happened because she was distracted. He reached for reasonable arguments, something she couldn’t deny or outright dismiss as his brand of nonsense. “You said he didn’t approve of you becoming an FBI agent. If being on the job now makes you feel guilty or uncomfortable or uneasy, I think you should back away” she finally looked at him, and he saw that she heard what he was trying to say. “Because if it’s clouding your judgment, you’re putting yourself in danger” and I don’t want to lose a partner to this wormtongue’d monster “I love this job” she said softly, hear voice breakingm. Admitting weakness was never easy, he knew that better than anyone. And that’s why she needed to trust him, take a step back and look at all the facts. “You love your father” Two days ago he could be her friend and her partner, he wanted that back, he wanted to trust her. She needed her strength back, and he needed his partner. She could be human around him if that’s what she needed to get back on her feet and he wouldn’t think any less of her for it. As she walked away he saw a glimpse of the human she fought so hard to contain and spoke to that part of her who needed a friend. Her first name seemed to be the key to the door that separated the woman from the FBI agent, and it surely caught her attention. “Dana, open yourself up to extreme possibilities only when they’re the truth. That goes for Luther Boggs and your father” Mulder watched her and saw she was becoming Scully again, the pieces of her were falling back into place. What she needed was to acknowledge her feelings, and know that her little relapse into humanity didn’t mean he thought her incapable of performing her duties. They had their moment and now it was time to get back to business. “As for Luther Boggs, he’s the greatest of lies” he moved to sit next to her and she was there, behind those wet, ocean blue eyes, a woman of steel, reason and skill, already healing “I know he’s working with someone on the outside and they planted that evidence” “Now, we have to be very careful about planing our next move” he was using all his psychology tricks and for once was glad to use them to help someone in need, and she needed to feel that she’s still a part of the team “because he’s five steps ahead. The one advantage we have is time” And time was running out quickly.

___________

They found the girl, but at what cost? A white cross stained with Mulder’s blood. She watched him covered in blood, barely conscious and the prospect of losing another close person filled her with dread and anger like she never knew before. To be led by the nose by a liar and a murderer, set up to play his game like puppets, and she let him do it! If Mulder dies, she will kill Boggs herself. Mulder tried to warn her, he’ll try to claim you as his last victim, don’t deal with him Scully. The judge was against it, a timely death was all he would offer. But she did it, she lied again, for the greater good, she reasoned with herself. Knowing, that as soon as she gets the information out of him, and her lie will come out, her last chance to hear the last words from her father would be gone. Forever. She chose what she felt was right. And the more she thought about it, how Boggs was capable to gather information and orchestrate the kidnaping, it wouldn’t be hard for him to find out some things about her as well. Public records, obituaries, connecting the facts. Mix some general assumptions with her fragile state, no wonder she believed in his lies disguised as prophecies. Perhaps Boggs’s words served as a warning and had some influence over the fact that she didn’t die on that bridge, but she didn’t go to bare witness to his death, he didn’t deserve the courtesy. She went to see Mulder, and felt comforted by the way balance was restoring itself between them.

“Dana, after all you’ve seen, why can’t you believe?” Her decisions over the last few days baffled him, but she did it. Her faith helped her solve the case, so in the end it didn’t matter who was the skeptic and who was the believer, as long as they worked together. “I’m afraid to believe” she admitted. A week ago she wouldn’t dare to say that out loud, but what they learned from the experience was that they could be more than just partners. “You couldn’t face that fear? Even if it meant never knowing what your father wanted to tell you?” “But I do know” she assured him with a wistful smile. “How?” “He was my father” Mulder smiled and put his hand on her shoulder, glad to see her one step closer to her old self, his partner and his friend. His Scully.

#msr fanfic #x files fanfic #fluff and angst #originally posted on AO3 #frizzyhairedbitch85 #S01E13 Beyond The Sea #early season msr #My writing

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