#and then filled my bag with fruit candy and coffee candy for no reason
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Ik I’m not white passing bc every Arab restaurant owner who sees my face can instantly clock me as brown and give me extra food and discounts and ask if I speak Arabic and if I’m staying in school and where my family is from and my thoughts on soccer, like sorry Emxly on tiktok just who learned the word white passing last week thinks that I’m not brown, but the Azerbaijani pizza shop staff cheer when I walk in the door so maybe it’s a skill issue?
#literally just got a $23 pizza#and I got to the counter to pay and he said ‘oh for you it’s $15 I’ll charge you for a small cheese’#EVERY TIME WITHOUT FAIL#like granted I’m a regular and he knows me but it’s still so funny#and ik it’s NOT just them being nice#I went to a market with my white friend once and she went ahead of me in line#and checked out#when it was MY turn to check out they smiled and asked if I was Arab then went to the back to get me fresher figs than the ones I picked out#and then filled my bag with fruit candy and coffee candy for no reason#this happens all the time and every time I’m STILL shocked#I once got a bag of basmati rice off the shelf with a $20 sticker on it and the guy took my $20#asked if I was middle eastern#THEN GAVE ME BACK SOME CHANGE WHEN I SAID YES#absolutely shameless behavior#I love it
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Stained Glass cookies
Hmm. I had a worn, old newspaper clipping of my mother’s with the stained glass cookie recipe sitting inside on of my cookbooks for - literal decades. But last night, when I went to get it out, nope. I checked everywhere it could reasonably be, emailed my brother to ask if I’d ever sent him a copy, and looked at recipes saved on my computer. Bupkiss.
We will wing it. Stained glass cookies use regular sugar cookie dough, look up the recipe yourself ‘cause I really don’t like mine, and fruit-flavored hard candies, crushed. This is somewhat hard to do, the results may be inconsistent or hilarious, only try it if you’re in a decent mood and can handle a few cracked/weird cookies.
My daughter and I unwrapped and sorted all the candies into the coffee cups we use for easter egg dye, because putting ‘colors’ in cups felt right. Then load each color into a ziplock bag, wrap it in a dish towel, and beat them with a hammer. Yes, this recipe required a hammer. A wooden mallet, at least. The candy bits went back in the cups.
When the dough has had a chance to chill, you can cut out shapes with cookie cutters, or just with a knife, or roll the dough into small ‘snakes’ like playdough and make shapes with that. If you cut shapes with cookie cutters, you then have to carefully cut out the center with a knife. You need a hollow shape for the candy ‘glass.’
Put them on a greased cookie sheet and fill the hollowed parts with crushed candy. Bake at 350F/175C for about 12 minutes.
When you take them out of the oven, the melted candy will be semi-solid and gooey. Wait to remove them from the sheet until the candy is just hard enough to move without stretching/deforming, but not so long that they’re entirely cool and welded permanently to the sheet.
Put them on waxed paper to cool the rest of the way. They’ll want to stick to that, too, so it helps to scoot them around a little bit as they cool. Sticky bastards.
My son was meticulous and patient with his, so his results were appreciably better than mine or my daughter’s. They do, however, all taste good.
Violà, stained glass!
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my life is a song for you
(a 15x18 au where Billie isn't in the picture, set before Chuck snapped everyone away)
I don’t think I can sing this song to you
Hold my lips and power through
Think about a different day
It starts with anger, of course; most of the ideas Castiel has have been met with that. This time, though, instead of the anger coming solely from the elder Winchester, it is a united chorus from all of them. Together the choir flows into bargaining, eventually being backed by a full orchestra of third day denial. The percussion of depression comes soon after the fourth day. By the time they reach acceptance on Saturday, the conductor has already put down his bow.
They end up agreeing to Castiel’s plan without actually saying those words. They just stop.
Stop arguing, stop researching, stop fending off each other’s stubborn reasoning with weak excuses.
The room stops thrashing to and fro and sits there, hands on its knees. Jack is staring at his shoes, the line of his throat bobbing up and down. Sam brushes an arm across his face, pretending it’s to wipe the hair of out his eyes, and then stands up, saying I’ll get you a bag for the trip. After he leaves Dean clears his throat and mutters about going to fill the tank on Castiel’s truck. Jack, come on, come help me, he says and the boy follows him without a word.
Castiel stands alone in the library and carefully folds up the map spread out on the table. His fingers move rigidly, like they are already paralyzed by mourning. The relief that they’ve finally accepted the plan and everything it entails is drowned out ten times over by the reality of what happens next. It has be done tomorrow night; he has less than twenty four hours to spend his family. He has to go do it alone; their presence would derail the entire plan.
No one is hungry during dinner that night, even though the burgers smell exceptionally good. After the dishes are done Dean puts on a movie that none of them are really watching. Still they huddle together on the sofa, letting it play loudly anyways because otherwise the quiet might shatter them.
I don’t think I can do this without tears
Pick a moment, fly the years
What can there be left to say
The hour before Castiel leaves the next morning Sam comes into the front room and puts a beige duffle bag down on the table. Here, he says, fumbling uneasily with the straps. I put a charger in, in case your phone runs out of battery.��Castiel peers into the bag and sees different parcels of the spell ingredients, all wrapped and marked individually in Sam’s neat handwriting. There’s also a new mixtape, probably from Dean, and a little plastic bag of nougat candy, fruit roll ups, and gumdrops that Castiel knows is from Jack’s secret movie-watching snack stash.
They’ve all added a little farewell gift for him. A lump the size of a watermelon swells in his throat.
Sam is still standing there, fidgeting with the zipper of the bag and Castiel just reaches over and grabs his hand and holds it for a moment, long enough to pull himself together. And then Sam tucks his fingers around his and they hold for several minutes more. When they eventually have to let go it hurts, physically, like someone just sliced open the veins on his palm.
Dean comes by a few minutes after Sam leaves. He stands next to Castiel, looking at the map spread out over the table. The clock clucks loudly in the background and Castiel stands there, motionless, as if he can will time to pause just by sheer determination. If he feels a weight on his left side that is Dean resting s head hon his shoulder then that’s just another reason not to move or even breathe. The pressure lifts, eventually, and Castiel feels the vacancy like part of him has been sliced off.
Ten minutes before he leaves everyone else is going about the Bunker as usual. There’s been an unspoken decision reached by them all that there will be no speech, no goodbye, because otherwise Castiel simply won’t be able to go. It’s for his sake that they’re pretending to be researching in the library, or cleaning up the kitchen, or fixing the Impala.
Castiel slips the straps of the duffle bag over his shoulder. He checks his right coat pocket for the truck keys. The front room is empty but from where he’s standing he can see Jack reading at one of the library tables. Jack hasn’t come up to him yet today; Castiel understands why. He’s been avoiding the boy for the same reason.
But against his better judgement Castiel walks into the library and stands there at the edge. He watches Jack silently for a few minutes before he realizes that if he lingers even a second longer he’s going to throw down the bag, pull Jack into his arms, and never ever step out the door.
So he moves forward, quickly, and puts a hand on Jack’s shoulder. He closes his brimming eyes and presses a kiss to his son’s forehead, ignoring the teardrops rolling down his cheeks and onto Jack’s forehead. The boy’s fingers immediately close around his coat sleeve and Castiel lets the boy cling to the fabric for just a second before he pulls away hard and goes, one foot after the other, because he knows--he knows that Jack is watching him leave and it takes all the strength he never knew he had to not turn back.
When the Bunker door finally slams behind him Castiel jumps a little. The lock clicks in place like hinges on the side of a coffin.
(oh, my life is a song for you)
(oh, my life is a song for you)
He breaks down at a cafe, over a coffee refill.
For the past four hours of driving he’s managed to keep himself stitched together. The threads stretched but did not burst. Not even when he put on Dean’s new mixtape at the second hour; not when he ate one of Jack’s nougat bars while getting a gas refill at the three and a half hour mark. His phone has been plugged into Sam’s charger the entire time, even though the battery is blinking at one hundred percent.
But around noon he decided to stop for some coffee. He didn’t need it to stay awake for the drive ahead, and he didn’t need to stretch his legs, but he pulled over by the diner anyways.
He needed to breathe. That was all.
As he took a table in the corner the waitress came over to pour him a cup of black coffee and he thanked her. His phone sat warm in the right pocket of his coat. Sam and Dean were only a phone call away. The thought prickled in his chest like a bouquet of needles. He tried to focus instead on the hot bitter liquid moving down his throat, drowning the temptation out.
When the waitress returned to refill his cup she told him he needs to order something to keep the table. “I’ll be on my way soon,” he said, motioning to the tip he had placed under his cup. “Could I stay for just a few minutes longer?”
Her eyes widened at the sight of the bill. “This coffee ain’t worth that much,” she laughed.
“No,” Castiel admitted, talking without thinking. “Dean makes a better cup anyways.”
And just like that, a blade cuts through all the neat knots in himself and he unravels, face buried in his hands, deaf to the fumbling questions of a slightly puzzled but concerned waitress.
A cup of coffee is enough to almost make him turn around. Almost.
keep reading on a03
#if i suffer with these ideas y'all have to suffer too#cw death#my spn fanfic#fanfic writer#castiel#jack kline#dean winchester#sam winchester#dadstiel#spn 15x18#slipper007#seraphcastiel#rambleoncas#plantdadcas#spn s15#the empty
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Groceries
Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/Reader
Word Count: 1,712
Warnings: mentions of PTSD, one mention of Tom, but this is mostly fluff.
Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell
Reader takes the boys grocery shopping. I’m sure that can’t go badly, right?
You grabbed your keys, swinging them around your finger and heading into the living room, where the boys were settled. “I’m headed out.”
Frankie looked up, putting his drink down. “Where to?”
“The grocery store,” you said. “If we’re hosting the game tomorrow, I’m gonna need more food.”
“I wanna go!” Ever the golden retriever, Benny hopped up, eagerly bounding to the door and practically vibrating by your side. Frankie, just as much a puppy as his best friend, followed suit, giving you his biggest pleading eyes, knowing full well those damn things were your kryptonite.
“Fine!” You said, opening the door. “Get in the car before I change my mind. Pope, Ironhead, you in?”
Both of your other boys were slower, getting into the car with more difficulty. Frankie, by your side in the passenger seat, smiled as you started the car. Santiago and Will, both in the middle, cracked their windows, allowing Benny, in the way back, to be hit with the fresh air and curb his motion sickness.
“I cannot believe you are all coming,” you grumbled, backing out of the driveway.
The drive was short, and before you knew it, Frankie and Benny were out of the car and fighting over who got to sit in the cart.
“My significant other is driving!” Frankie pointed out, gesturing to you, waiting with the cart.
“Okay?” Benny countered. “You sat in the cart last time!”
“Boys!” Both heads turned to you. “We need two carts anyway.”
Almost instantly, Frankie was getting into your cart, grinning. “I love you.”
“Yeah yeah.” You gave the rim of his hat a small push, so it dipped below his eyes. “I swear I’m engaged to a toddler.”
“Engaged?” Santiago said, stopping in his tracks. “Fish, you proposed?”
You held out your hand, showing off your engagement ring. “Yeah. Last week. Sorry we didn’t tell you. There was the game to plan for, and then my parents got super emotional about it, and then his family insisted on having a party, and it all slipped our minds.”
Benny smirked. “I knew.”
Will gasped. “You traitor! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I was coaching dear Fish through it!” Benny said. “He was a ball of nerves.”
“He dropped the ring,” you said, navigating the cart down the produce aisle and grabbing a thing of raspberries, tossing it to Frankie and moving to examine the pomegranates. “Twice.”
While the boys teased Frankie, you and Santiago browsed the produce, grabbing a few veggies and fruits. You tossed a bag of broccoli onto Frankie’s stomach, snapping him out of his conversation. “Hey, dorks. I haven’t got all night.”
Will gave Frankie’s shoulder a shove and pushed Benny’s cart down the next aisle. He helped Santiago pick beer, Benny shouting suggestions while you took Frankie to the bakery.
“I love you,” Frankie said happily as you put a pack of his favorite lofthouse cookies in the cart.
“Love you more,” you said, absently pushing the cart through the bakery and grabbing bagels. “Wanna look at those ridiculous cakes that are like, 90% frosting and food coloring?”
Frankie lit up. “I am marrying you for all the right reasons.”
You laughed, steering the cart towards the cakes. Frankie eagerly pointed to one that was, as you’d said, mostly brightly colored frosting. The baker, a younger girl with pink and blue hair, waved to you. “Getting ready for the game?”
“Yep!” You said. “I’ve got all the boys here with me. And speak of the devils,” you added, hearing the rest of your group join you.
The baker greeted the group. “Oh! Frankie, how’d the proposal go?”
Frankie grinned. “Well, I got a yes.”
“Congrats!”
“Okay how the hell did your grocery store baker know but not us?” Santiago demanded.
“She helped me make the perfect cupcake!” Frankie said.
You snorted. “The cupcake you dropped down my shirt?”
Yet again, the boys teased Frankie for his proposal mishaps while you rolled your eyes and looked over the premade pie crusts.
“Frankie! Boys! C’mon!” You shouted eventually. “I can’t be here until midnight.”
The boys followed you down a few more aisles, Santiago, somehow, proving to be the responsible one as he helped you fill out your grocery list. He put two boxes of crackers in Benny’s cart, looking at you. “Dairy next?”
“Snacks, then drinks, then cereal, then frozens, then meat, and then dairy,” you said, running over the list. “That’s just how the store is arranged.”
Santiago shrugged. “Works for me. To the snacks!”
The snack aisles were a very dangerous place. You were suddenly the only voice of reason as the boys eyed the chips.
“One bag of Doritos, and one bag of pretzels,” you bargained with Will. “Get the stupid honey ones Frankie’s addicted to.”
“Excuse you!” Frankie said, grabbing a box of granola bars and settling back down in the cart. “Those things are amazing.”
“I’m not saying they aren’t,” you agreed, reaching over Benny to grab dried fruit. “But you might be addicted to those damn things.”
Will put both bags in the cart. “Anything else?”
“Microwave popcorn,” you read off the list, nodding to Santiago as he walked off to grab it. “Two bags of M&Ms, one bag of black licorice twizzlers, one bag of jelly beans, and five Hershey’s bars.”
“The chocolate comes in packs of six,” Will said, beginning to grab the candy. “It’ll work, right?”
“Yep!” You said, using the back of Frankie’s head to cross things off your list. “Next aisle, before I get conned into buying anything stupid.”
“Can we get sour gummy worms?” Benny’s hesitant voice said from behind you.
You turned. “Why?”
Benny fiddled with the bag, an almost guilty look on his face. “They were Tom’s favorite.”
You sighed, melting a bit. “Of course Benny.”
Benny smiled, fidgeting with the bag as you ushered everyone into the drinks aisle.
“Frankie, hon, how are we on coffee?” You asked, examining the coffee and finding your brand.
“We need more!”
You stood, holding the coffee and putting it in the cart. “Can I trust you to grab me a box of ginger ale?”
Frankie nodded, climbing out of the cart. “You want the name brand, and not the, and I quote, shitty stuff, yeah?”
“You know me so well,” you said happily. “I’ll get your tea.” You grabbed two boxes of chamomile tea, which was the only stuff that helped Frankie sleep through the night. Tossing the boxes into Benny’s cart, you examined the aisle, trying to remember what else you needed. “Okay, I think we’re done here. If I forgot something, it’s on you to grab it,” you said to Will, who smiled and nodded.
The next aisle was simple. You left Benny, Will, and Santiago at the aisle’s entrance while you took Frankie down to grab his cereal. He reached up, not even bothering to get out of the cart as he grabbed a box of cereal.
“Frozens!” You announced, turning down the frozen food aisle. “Will, can you grab two frozen pizzas and a bag of meatballs? Pope, you’re on game snacks. Mozzarella sticks, pizza rolls, and taquitos. Benny! Stay there and look cute! Frankie, you’re on veggie duty.”
Your boys assembled, dutifully carrying out the tasks you’d set. Meanwhile, you tucked a few pints of ice cream in the cart, winking to Benny as he pointed to his favorite flavor.
When he returned, Frankie climbed back into the cart, setting the bags of frozen veggies beside him. “I got green beans, corn, and peas,” he said. “Did we need anything else?”
“Nope,” you said, resting your elbows on his shoulders. “What’s left on the list?”
Frankie scanned the paper. “Bread, bagels, meat, milk, yogurt, cheese, and butter.”
When you had all your boys back at your side, you kept moving, examining the meat selection the grocery store had. “Babe, how many pounds of ground beef do we have?”
“Uhh.” Frankie began counting off on his fingers while you smiled and grabbed a pack of bacon. “Four?”
“So not enough,” you decided, grabbing two more. You sent Santiago to grab chicken breasts, keeping Will and Benny with you as you looked over the sandwich meat. Eventually putting sliced turkey in the cart, you nodded to Santiago as he handed you the chicken.
“One more aisle, I promise,” you said, heading towards the dairy section. “Then we can go back home.”
You grabbed a carton of regular milk and a carton of lactose free milk, handing them both to Benny. Then came the cream cheese tub, the butter, the yogurt, the sliced cheese to go with the crackers, and you were finally swinging back through the bakery to grab bread and bagels before heading to the checkout.
After checking out, you herded the boys back to the car, loading everything into the trunk and making sure everyone was buckled in before slowly turning out of the parking lot.
“Did we have fun?” You asked the car, turning the radio down a notch so you could hear them.
“Yes,” all four of your passengers responded, each with varying levels of awareness.
It was a struggle to get the groceries in the house and put away. Benny was shot, passing out on the couch almost immediately upon re-entering the house. Everyone else did their best, but Will tapped out after hauling everything in, and Frankie and Santiago barely made it through the process of putting everything away.
“You got ice cream?” Frankie asked, holding one pint and staring at it. “God I fucking love you!”
You laughed, putting the cereal in its proper cupboard. “I love you too.”
Eventually, you were on the couch, Frankie by your side and the rest of your boys in various other places. You scratched absently through Frankie’s hair, flicking through movies until finally settling on a calming kids movie about dragons. Since his return from his final mission, Frankie hadn’t been too keen on action movies. Something about the explosions set him off.
“Babe?”
“Yes Frankie?”
Frankie looked up at you, eyes partially closed. “Thank you for taking us to the store. I don’t think Benny’s been grocery shopping since we got back.”
You smiled, kissing Frankie’s nose. “Anything for my boys.”
#Triple Frontier#francisco 'catfish' morales#frankie morales#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales x you#Pedro Pascal#My writing
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Lights Out
Summary: The elevator jolts and the lights flicker, before plunging them into total darkness. There's a Brooklyn-wide power outage, they're stuck in the precinct elevator and Amy is claustrophobic AF. Then her water breaks.
Based on this amazing (!!!) s7 finale theory by @luna-minerva. Thank you so much for letting me turn that into this. I really, really hope you love it.
She has a birth plan written out by her sixth month of pregnancy detailing her preferences for labor — dimmed lights, calming music, an epidural, Jake by her side at all times — laminated in the apartment, her go bag (already pre-packed in their family friendly sedan) and her everyday purse. She sent copies to her doctor, both their parents and Captain Holt, printed one for Jake to keep at work and saved a digital copy in the Notes app on both their phones. Just in case.
(“Single spaced, double sided: Santiago Style,” Jake grins when she hands over the final draft.
“Of course. It’s an important document about the most important moment of our lives. I want everything to go smoothly.”)
And for most of her pregnancy, it does. She sends him out for pierogis, potato pancakes and hot chocolate most nights, cries over every car commercial on TV and waddles around the apartment making sure everything is perfect for when the baby arrives. The doctor assures her that they’re both healthy, but she should take an early maternity leave, given the stresses of her job.
She survives for one day before she’s back at the precinct, prompting several raised eyebrows and whispers from around the bullpen. Ignoring all of them, she hitches her purse onto her shoulder, lifts her head, and marches determinately to her old desk.
“FOMOW?” Jake guesses with an amused smile.
“It’s not FOMOW,” she huffs in annoyance. “I just finished organising the nursery and since I was passing the precinct, I figured I’d come visit my husband, if that’s OK with you.”
“Hey, I’m not complaining,” he holds his hands up. “I’ve missed having a beautiful lady to look up at when my paperwork gets boring.” He wiggles his eyebrows playfully. “I suppose you’ll do.”
She rolls her eyes, sitting down and trying to make herself as comfortable as possible, a difficult task when you’re as big as a whale and your back has been aching all day.
“Peralta,” Holt’s new assistant barks as he leaves Holt’s office, “you missed some signatures on this report.” He drops it on top of all the other open case files, candy wrappers and clutter on Jake’s desk, a welcome change from the way Gina would turn their work into paper airplanes and fly them across the bullpen. As Jake starts scribbling his name, Holt’s assistant notices Amy. “Can I help you, ma’am?”
“Oh, I’m OK. I work here. Well, I used to work here. I’m on maternity leave.”
“Of course,” he nods, realisation spreading across his face. “You’re Sergeant Santiago. Captain Holt mentions you constantly.”
“He does?” She clutches her heart. “Jake, did you hear that? Holt mentions me.”
He mouths “dork” and she sticks her tongue out at him.
“So when’s the baby due? You look ready to pop any day now.”
“Two weeks,” Jake answers on her behalf, sensing danger. The ‘ready to pop’ comment has been driving her crazy for weeks. She is well aware of her size and does not need perfect strangers reminding her. She’s pregnant, not a contestant on America’s Next Top Model. She’s supposed to be big. He shoves the signed documents into Holt’s assistant’s hands and glances apprehensively back at his wife. “You OK?”
“Mm-hmm.” She plasters on a brave face. “Can’t believe I’m saying this but I actually miss Gina.”
Jake snorts and presses play on CCTV footage of a robbery.
She twists her engagement ring on her finger, braids the ends of her hair and straightens a pile of folders on the desk. She is something of a workaholic and not being able to do anything is torture. “Any cool cases you’re working on?” She asks Jake, because what else are husbands for if not living vicariously through their work while on maternity leave?
“Hipster coffee shop got broken into last night. The owner was devastated that she had to drink Starbucks this morning like the rest of us instead of her fancy $8 million gold infused coffee blend from Outer Mongolia.”
“At least she gets to drink coffee,” Amy responds snarkily.
“Worth it though,” he grins. “And I’ll be your personal in-home barista once this baby is out.”
“Thanks, babe. You’re the sweetest.” She rounds their desks to give him a chaste kiss (she may not be in work but they are still at work), when something catches her eye on the screen. She instructs him to rewind the video, pointing out that the intruder has the same bone structure and blonde hair as the owner behind the counter.
Jake gasps. “It was an inside job!”
A failing business tries to scam the insurance company; it’s a tale as old as time.
He grabs his phone, gun and jacket in a rush to arrest the owner before they skip town.
“Can I come with you?”
“What?”
“I want to come with you. I’m the one who solved the case.”
“You’re pregnant. You can’t.”
“I’ll walk ahead of you, pretend I’m just a normal customer,” she pleads. “You know I’m good at going undercover. Remember Dora?”
“Of course I remember Dora, Johnny loved Dora, but this is different. It’s too dangerous.”
“They own a hipster coffee shop, Jake,” she deadpans. “They’re not going to hurt a pregnant lady. I’m FOMOWing so bad, I just want to be there.”
“Ames-.”
“Please, Jake,” she kicks her persuasion tactics up a few notches, pulling out the doe eyes and pout that she knows he can’t resist.
“Fine,” he concedes before she starts crying and playing the “I’m having your baby” card. “You can come. But if anything dangerous goes down, you have to get out of there straight away. You can’t get involved.”
“Deal.” She shakes his hand firmly (she took a refresher seminar a few months ago) and retrieves her purse from her old desk, following him to the elevator like old times. Peralta and Santiago off to take down bad guys (and look good doin’ it). Of course, there will be no actual taking down of bad guys nine months pregnant, although she could do it if she wanted to, she’s definitely felt the urge to kick Charles in the shin whenever he brings them disgusting foods or tries to kiss her belly.
Just being there is enough for now.
She speeds up, reaching the elevator before him and pressing the down button first. She smirks at him over her shoulder and steps inside when the doors open. Despite being married and expecting a kid together, their competitive edge has never wavered. In the last few months alone, they’ve bet on the sex of the baby, who would cry first when they heard the heartbeat, what fruit or vegetable their baby is that week and who can put a diaper on a football fastest. Bets are the cornerstone of their relationship — the original bet sparking Jake’s realisation that he liked her liked her — and Amy can’t wait for their kids to join in when they’re old enough.
(Kids, plural, because for some reason, even after difficulty conceiving and morning sickness and FOMOW, she would still go through pregnancy all over again. They don’t quite want eight like her parents, but at least one more would be nice).
Rosa’s black boots stop the elevator doors closing and she squeezes through the gap. “Got an early lunch date,” she explains.
“Oh,” Amy says, sharing A Look™️ with Jake. Rosa hasn’t dated anyone since Jocelyn dumped her, choosing to be on her own for a while since she hasn’t really had time alone to process her almost marriage to Pimento, prison and coming out. Repairing her relationship with her parents has been her #1 priority and this is the first Amy’s heard about her seeing someone new. “Is it... serious?” She tries not to push too hard because otherwise Rosa will just close off (it’s pointless asking about names or jobs or appearance), which is hard because she just wants her to be as happy as she is with Jake, but also knows from past experience that Rosa will eventually reveal the information when she’s ready.
“It could be,” she responds vaguely. “I like her, but she’s a doctor so we both work way too much.”
“Well, I hope it works out. You deserve someone really great.”
Rosa pulls her in for a tight, unexpected hug. “Thanks, Santiago,” she murmurs, her voice cracking as if she’s about to cry.
The elevator jolting and lights flickering ruins the moment. After a few terrifying seconds, it stops completely and they are plunged into darkness.
Amy’s blood runs cold, panic filling her lungs. She’s had this nightmare a million times, having suffered with claustrophobia ever since her brothers locked her in a closet as a kid.
She hears Jake’s “cool, cool, cool, cool, cool” and Rosa saying that it’s probably a power cut, but she can’t speak. She can’t do anything but think about how they’re never going to get out and how the squad will have to send them food supplies through the safety hatch in the ceiling and how they’ll have to raise their baby in this tiny metal box, teaching her to count using the buttons to the different precinct floors.
She feels pain, a fun combination of Braxton Hicks that she’s been having for weeks and panic attack. She tries to focus on her breathing and not on the four walls closing in on her. When the breathing techniques fail, she focuses on Jake.
Kind, funny, handsome Jake. Her husband, but more than that, her best friend. She concentrates on the toothpaste stain on the front of his shirt, his unruly curls that she loves so much, the ring on his finger glinting in the light from Rosa’s phone. His own phone is pressed to his ear and she can only hear one side of the conversation but it’s clear that he’s debriefing Holt.
“- Me, Amy, Rosa -"
“- We’re fine, just stuck -"
“- How long? -”
“Shit.” He hangs up, pocketing his phone. “Power’s out everywhere. Our back-up generators haven’t kicked in, something about air in the fuel system. The fire department are busy with the blackout and we’re apparently not an emergency, so. We could be in here a while.”
“Shit,” Rosa echoes his sentiment.
“Yeah. You OK, Ames?” He turns his attention to her.
She shakes her head meekly.
“Claustrophobic?” Rosa guesses, remembering her reaction to being locked in the trunk when she was trying to get her and Gina to face their fears.
She nods.
“We can play Celebrity to distract ourselves. I’ll go first. He’s the greatest actor -.”
“Bruce Willis,” Amy and Rosa say at the same time.
“Thought I’d give you an easy one to start,” he blushes.
Amy almost laughs despite the overwhelming fear. She loves him, Bruce Willis obsession and all. She takes a few seconds to think of someone good. Then, “They’re in - oh - water -.”
“They’re in water?” Rosa repeats, confused. “You mean like Jaws?”
“Or Finding Dory?” Jake adds. He made her watch the movie with him after Pimento’s Memento disease and now wants to buy a fish and call it Dory, even though he famously killed her fish back when they were dating. “Is it Ellen?”
“No, my water.”
Jake and Rosa both look down in horror. She buries her face in her hands. As if this situation could not get any worse.
“At least this classifies us as an emergency now,” Jake quips.
Rosa does Amy a favour and punches him in the arm.
--
They notify Holt — who in turn notifies the FDNY — and Jake sends a text to both their parents.
Rosa climbs onto Jake’s shoulders and opens the safety hatch so Charles can lower a care package of towels and bottled water into the elevator.
(He also delivers Sour Candies, upon Jake’s request).
Terry tries to pull the doors apart, but even his tree trunk arms are no match for the heavy metal.
Amy breathes through her contractions, stubbornly determined to stick to her birth plan and give birth in the hospital.
Her body, however, has other ideas.
“Four minutes apart now,” Rosa announces. She punches a wall out of frustration. “Where the hell are those firefighters?”
“They’re not going to make it in time,” Jake responds, equally frustrated. “Camila warned me months ago that Santiago babies come early, fast and are always boys.”
“This baby is half-Peralta and a girl. She might be the exception.” Amy takes a sip of water, ignoring the look of disbelief on Jake’s face.
“Diaz, you went to med school, tell my wife that this baby isn’t going to wait.”
Rosa opens her mouth to speak but Amy cuts her off.
“Diaz, tell my husband that the contractions aren’t even that painful and we have time.”
--
As it turns out, they don’t have time at all.
She’s feels pressure, the urge to push, and not even the glug glug glug of Rosa’s babbling brook sounds can calm her down.
“I do not want to give birth in the precinct elevator,” she cries.
Jake, on back rubbing duty, exchanges nervous glances with Rosa. She’s fully dilated and with the fire department still busy tackling other emergencies, this is happening. Right here. Right now.
“You know, it’s actually kind of perfect, Ames. We first met outside this elevator, right? And I kept the elevator doors open to let you win the Jimmy Jabs because of my massivecrush on you. And then you let me win to save our car. We fell in love in this precinct. It’s where we had our first for realz kiss, where we got engaged, where we got married. It’s kind of fitting that it’s also where our baby is going to be born.”
She tilts her head back to kiss him, ignoring Rosa’s complaints that they’re gross.
She thinks back to her wedding vows. Not everything is in our control, but as long as you’re with the right people you can handle anything. And you, Jake Peralta, are the right person for me. She can handle this with Jake by her side. She can bring their daughter into the world.
“OK... I’m ready.”
“That’s my girl,” Jake says proudly, shuffling into a better position to hold her hand and see the baby when she comes out.
They all disinfect their hands with Purrell from Amy’s purse and Rosa explains what’s going to happen and Jake jokes that he feels like Sandra Oh in Grey’s Anatomy.
Rosa rolls her eyes. “Christina was a heart surgeon, dumb dumb. You’re thinking of Addison. What?” She questions at their surprised expressions. “I like Grey’s Anatomy! It makes me feel things! I’m not totally heartless.”
Amy releases a string of expletives as another contraction starts.
“We’re going to start pushing on the next one,” Rosa instructs, forgetting her favourite medical drama.
Amy nods quickly.
Jake brushes fallen strands of hair away from her sweat-covered skin and takes her hand. “Squeeze as hard as you need to, babe.”
--
No amount of studying or listening to her mom’s stories could prepare her for the pain of pushing a baby out. It’s worse than the time her brother pushed her off the monkey bars when she was eight and she broke her arm, worse than the time she got shot in the line of duty, worse than the heartbreak of Jake being sentenced to 15 years in prison. It’s worse than anything she’s ever experienced and when it’s over she has so many questions for her mom, including why on Earth did she do this so many times?!
She’s also going to thank Jake for not complaining once and buy Rosa many drinks for her part in all this.
Having her colleague deliver her baby was definitely not part of the birth plan, but out of everyone they work with, she’s glad that it’s Rosa.
Rosa who’s been there for Jake since the Academy.
Rosa who has always had her back, too, who comforted her when Jake was in Florida, helped get her to her Sergeant’s exam on time and encouraged Jake to ask her out.
(And thank God she did).
--
Labor is exhausting.
It’s painful and emotional and long.
“You’re so close,” Jake cheers her on when she hits a wall.
“He’s right. I can see her head. One more push, Santiago.”
“I can’t-.”
“You can,” Rosa insists. “1,000 push ups.”
“OK,” she whispers. Rosa doesn’t just throw around 1,000 push ups willy nilly. It means something. And if Rosa is so confident that she can do this, then she can do it.
She pushes and pushes and eventually hears a baby’s cry.
It’s the most beautiful sound she’s ever heard.
When Rosa places her in Amy’s arms for immediate skin-to-skin, all four of them are openly weeping.
She’s the most perfect person she’s ever seen.
“I love you both so much,” Jake murmurs, kissing the top of Amy’s head. He leans down to kiss his daughter, too, marvelling over the fact that he gets to say my daughter now.
They cuddle for a while, quietly bickering over who she looks most like. They decide that she has Jake’s hair, nose and mouth and, when she opens her eyes for a second to see what all the fuss is about, he is thrilled to discover that she has the same beautiful eyes as her mom.
They wrap her up in Jake’s favourite blue hoodie to keep her warm and Rosa snaps their first official family portrait and sends it to their parents, Amy’s brothers and the Nine-Nine’s WhatsApp group. She reads out the messages of congratulations that fly in, making Jake and Amy both cry some more.
Finally she interrupts their family time to cut the cord, pulling out her pocket knife and lighter from her leather jacket.
Jake’s eyes go comically wide. “You’re going to use a knife?”
“Do you have any other suggestions?” She snaps.
He falls silent.
“Thought so.” She sterilises the blade (recently sharpened following Brad Leone’s tutorial from the BA Test Kitchen) with her lighter and carefully cuts the umbilical cord.
“Say thank you Tía Rosa,” Amy coos, stroking her daughter’s tiny hand.
“Tía?”
“Mm-hmm,” Amy hums with a tired smile. “We were going to ask you to be her godmother anyway, but I think you have more than earned that role now.”
“I’d be honoured,” she responds.
--
After another hour and a half stuck in the elevator, the lights come back on, the elevator doors open with a ping and they are suddenly faced with a crowd of concerned police officers, firefighters and paramedics, little Maya Peralta gracing the rest of the world in the most dramatic of fashion.
The firefighters spring into gear, holding the elevator doors shut while others help Amy into an awaiting wheelchair.
Jake hovers next to the paramedics as they check Maya’s vitals. Thankfully, everything is normal, they clean her up and replace Jake’s blood-stained hoodie with a warm blanket.
“She’s perfect,” the female paramedic tells him as she hands Maya back to her dad, confirming what he knew the second he laid eyes on her.
They then turn their attention to Amy, who is fine — more than fine, she’s the happiest she’s ever been — just a little sore. They decide to take them both into hospital as a precautionary measure since Maya is two weeks early (Santiago Style!), packing up their equipment while Jake and Amy introduce the Nine-Nine’s newest recruit to the rest of the squad.
Terry says something about little girls being the best, Hitchcock and Scully claim not to have known Amy was even pregnant and Holt’s stoic façade crumbles when Maya grips his finger with her entire hand.
Charles’ eyes are red and puffy like he’s been crying, but he’s uncharacteristically calm when Jake asks if he wants to hold her. He nods, of course, and is enamoured with her the moment he feels her weight in his arms.
This isn’t how she planned it —none of it is — she wanted the controlled hospital birth and the grandparents to meet the baby first and she really wanted to catch the perp from the coffee shop robbery, but Jake was right. It’s kind of perfect that she was born here, in the Nine-Nine, surrounded by their second family.
She meets her husband’s eye and smiles.
#b99 fics#jake x amy#my writing#I'm really proud of this so I hope you all love it#also the knife thing turned out to.....not be as big of a deal as I expected#but thank you for your advice anyway#let me know what you think!!!!!
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🍊For the dorm leaders?
Thank you for the ask! ❤️ ❤️
🍊 What is your OC’s favourite meal? Snack? Dessert? Drink? Any reasons behind this besides liking how it tastes?
Marcia: Our favorite food, huh?
Rosalia: Hehe! Hehehehe!
Blanche:... What’s gotten into you now?
Rosalia: What a great opportunity to once and forever dispel any rumors surrounding my taste!
Blanche: Nobody was wondering about that-
Rosalia: You know! They always said that just because Cherry was always seen eating candy on the show, I must certainly like it as well. After all nobody could fake such a happy and satisfied expression when forced to eat something they dislike.
Marcia: Ah, now that you mention it, I remember Cherry always asking Uncle Apricot for candy when he visited.
Blanche: As I said before, nobody-
Rosalia: Exactly! And because filming would sometimes take a long time, I had to keep eating them even twelve times a day!
Marcia: Woah! That’s a lot of sugar. My old man would definitely scold me if I went overboard like that.
Rosalia: It was part of the role so I had to deal with it. But the worst part was when fans would send me bags of candy along with fanmail and I had to finish them before the next batch arrived. Even though I kept asking them many times not to send it anymore...
Blanche:... Rosalia.
Rosalia: Hm?
Blanche: This is something I noticed before, but... you’re the kind that’s stupidly honest, aren’t you?
Rosalia: HUH?! What’s that supposed to mean?! Are you picking a fight with me?!
Marcia: Now, now, don’t get all worked up! Let’s all get along!
Rosalia: Why are you including me in this, I didn’t-
June: Ugh!
Rosalia, Blanche and Marcia: ... S-Sorry, senpai.
June: ...
Blanche and Rosalia: ...
Marcia: A-Anyway... It’s kinda surprising you dislike candy, Rosa. Your acting skills are really something else if you managed to fake enjoying eating something you hate for so long! So what’s your actual favorite food?
Rosalia: Hehe! Well, this might surprise you but my tastes are more grown-up than people give me credit! My absolute favorite food is the legendary-taboo-for-all-children-super-adult rum cake! Cool, right?!
Blanche: ...
June: ...
Marcia: ... Y-Yeah, I guess...
Rosalia: ... Then why aren’t your expressions more appreciative of me?!
June: Ain’t anythin’ grown-up about that.
Rosalia: Huh?!
Blanche: Himalia-senpai is right. Rum cake, despite the name, isn’t inherently alcoholic since most it is cooked off.
Rosalia: B-But you can get drunk off it...
Blanche: Only if you consume it in large quantities. Otherwise it’s just a more flavourful dessert.
Rosalia:...
Marcia: Don’t mind. Don’t mind.
Rosalia: Don’t pat my back now! It just comes across as condescending.
Blanche: Seriously, that’s why kids like you...
Rosalia: HUH?! Then what about you? Let’s see what so grown-up about your tastes! So, tell us, what’s your favorite food?!
Blanche: Bitter chocolate.
Rosalia:...
Ugh! Why do I feel like I lost?!
Blanche: It wasn’t even a contest in the first place.
Marcia: Hahaha, it totally suits you though Blanche!
Blanche: Does it? Truth to be told, it’s the only strong flavour that I like, but I wasn’t allowed to have much of it growing up.
Marcia: Mm. I get it. Then I’ll be sure to gift you some during your birthday!
Blanche: ... I wouldn’t want to impose, but I appreciate the thought.
Rosalia: Hmp! Moving on~ How about you Marcia? I totally expect you to pick something nutritional and healthy.
Marcia: Haha, you’re not wrong! I’m crazy about sweet potatoes. Boiled, mashed, cooked in the oven - as long as it’s not fried, I’m good with any kind!
Rosalia: I knew it~
Marcia: Mm! But to tell you the truth, it has little to do with the nutritional value. I really like them because they bring back memories of me and the old man roasting some during autumn. It was a lot of fun even though it was mostly him doing the work. I hope that when he gets better we’ll be able to do it again together, all four of us.
Rosalia: That’s way too sad!
Marcia: Eh?
Rosalia: Aaah! Here I was complaining about people sending me candy when I didn’t even think about the feelings behind it! That was super childish!
Blanche: Indeed.
Rosalia: Ahh! Can’t you keep quiet?!
June: ... That could go for ya’ll. Makin’ a ruckus ev’ry single time... CAN’T YA THINK OF OTHERS ONCE IN A WHILE, HUH?! DAMN IT!
Rosalia, Blanche and Marcia: Crap! We got Himalia-senpai angry!
June: First of all, food is food! Dontcha complain when yer table is full of all sorts of stuff! Ain’t matter if ya’ll like it or not! People worked hard to put it on yer table! So just shut up and eat it!
Rosalia, Blanche and Marcia: U-Understood, ma’am.
June: Huh?! What was that?! Say it louder!
Rosalia, Blanche and Marcia: Understood, ma’am!
June: That’s right! Now scram and make sure to do ya’ll work! Or ya’ll be in trouble when I come checkin’ in. GOT IT?
Rosalia, Blanche and Marcia: YES, MA’AM!
How did it turn out like this?!
Extra: June’s favorite food is apple pie because it’s an easy dessert to make and quite filling. Though whenever she makes it at home she often has to fend off her nieces and nephews if she wants to have a slice for herself.
Diana: Meat.
Agatha: Hehe... land animals... really are simple...
Vita: Now, Agatha. I would say that Diana’s straightforwardness is to be expected by now.
Cassandra: Yes. It is just like Miss Arrow to be so honest.
Diana: ... It’s my true answer. In the savana besides swiftness, you also need strength. Meat helps build up muscle mass and is full of vitamins such as B12, B3, B6. It also contains carnosine which has anti-glycosylation-
Agatha: Ugh... so much... noise...
Diana: ...
Cassandra: A-Amazing! I have never heard Miss Arrow speak at such length. She truly does get passionate about her favorite topics.
Diana:...
Vita: Hm? Have you perhaps been overtaken by shyness, lioness? How charming.
Diana: ...
Cassandra.
Cassandra: Eh?
Diana: ...
I heard fairies like sugar.
Cassandra: E-Eh? Well, that’s more of a stereotype I would say than actual fact, but... um, I’m only half so maybe it’s true after all...
Diana: ...
Cassandra: Sorry... I’m not really sure of fairies’ true nature... um...
Vita: ‘Tis alright. The lioness was merely curious.
Diana: Mm.
Cassandra: Haha, I see. Sorry for making assumptions.
Um, to tell the truth, I’m actually quite fond of Mazarin myself.
Vita: Hm? Ah, I remember. It is a sort of almond tart, is it not?
Cassandra: Yes! It is quite tasty and easy to bake too!
My grandmother taught me how to make it when I was a child. It’s our special treat for when we wanted to make each other smile. Even now when I smell the aroma I am reminded of those afternoons spent in the kitchen together.
Agatha: ... annoying...
Cassandra: Sorry, that must have been really boring to hear. Um, what about you, Miss Voisin?
Agatha: ...
Cassandra: ...
Agatha: .................................................
Cassandra: ... Um....
Agatha: ............................................
Big Sis.
Vita: My, it seems my dear little Agatha doesn’t want to give a response. She gets uncharacteristically shy when other’s gaze is turned upon her. Oh well, then I shall take over.
I myself am quite partial to pomegranates. They have quite a peculiar taste that I haven’t really noticed in any other food. ‘Tis truly a marvelous experience.
Diana: They’re too sour.
Cassandra: I’m not especially fond of them myself, um...
Vita: A shame, alas.
My mother and sisters are of the same mind. They seem to find it abhorrent. ‘Tis only Grandfather who shares my opinion. Though, I do suspect ‘tis because it ease the pain in his joints. So as you can see, ‘tis a most versatile fruit.
Agatha: Pomegranates... are tasty...
Vita: Oh? How refreshing. I commend your good taste.
Agatha: ... Hehe.
Vita: My, how cute! It really suits you when you smile like that, Agatha, dear!
Diana and Cassandra: ...
Diana: Even though she says that-
Cassandra: -Isn’t it usual for Miss Voisin to smile, anyway?
Extra: Agatha’s favorite food is shrimp, but because it’s the usual prey for her fish species she doesn’t like to mention it. She can eat them raw and without cracking them open given her metabolism, but so far only Vita has seen her eating habits.
For Drinks: Rosa, Diana, Agatha and Marcia stick to water (sometimes with a wedge of lemon), June likes lemonade, Blanche and Cassandra like tea, while Vita prefers coffee and energy drinks.
Diana is the only one who snacks a lot, because she burns off the calories very easily and thus is always hungry. The others prefer either healthy options (Blanche, Rosa, Marcia) or sweet stuff (Cassandra) or something spicy or unusual (June, Agatha, Vita).
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland fanschool#rosalia morgainne#blanche dion#marcia pyroeis#june himalia#diana arrow#cassandra delphinne#agatha voisin#vita dies#rosenhex#grimmaire#kriegskald#galdtrea#monarchia#oraluna#eliksia#noctasis#ask
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wanna be my baby - stucky
Read on AO3
~*~
Bucky is laughing and chattering, his eyes bright and happy while they walk through the city, and his nose is red.
Just the tip, bright red against his pale skin and dark hair and slate blue eyes. It’s distracting and
Steve catches his elbow, tugs Bucky into a little shop on the way to dinner. The shop is dark and luxurious--it reminds him of the little tailor that Tony dragged him to before their first charity outing.
It’s rich and dark, leather coats and elegant suits, and--
“Stevie?” Bucky asks, hesitantly and Steve hums, looking around until he sees the tasteful display of scarves and gloves, and he runs his fingers over one, tightly knit wool so soft it feels like silk.
There’s cashmere but he’s a traditionalist, and the blue wool will look nice, with the black. He taps the scarf and a pair of leather gloves, slim and lined with soft warm fleece. “These, please,” he says, and the salesgirl hovering a step behind Bucky scurries to box up his purchases.
“Cold, Steve?” Bucky asks, while they wait, and Steve smiles at him, waiting until they’re outside again, the air cold and brisk and making Bucky shiver in his heavy coat, before he digs the soft blue scarf out and loops it around Bucky’s throat
Bucky goes still, letting him tuck the end into the loop, adjust the fit until he was happy with it and a flush was rising in Bucky’s pale cheeks.
“Gloves too,” he murmurs, and Bucky tugs them on with careful fingers, while Steve watches, a rush of warm pleasure uncurling in his belly.
When Bucky spreads his now-gloved hands and blinks blue eyes--they’ve never been that blue--at him like he’s waiting for judgement, Steve smiles and nods.
“Better,” he murmurs, and turns them back toward their dinner destination, while Bucky leans into his side, warm and comfortable.
~*~
The problem about life in a future he didn’t ask for is that it’s strange and unfamiliar and more than that--it’s lonely. He has his team, but Natasha and Clint spend more time on missions than they do in country, Thor is off world, and Bruce hides in his lab.
Tony is friendly, they’ve worked through their initial issues, but there is only so much of his mania that Steve can stand before he needs an escape, needs the reality of the world they fight so hard to save, and he spends hours walking, aimlessly wandering the city and slipping into bookshops and bakeries and small shops that felt like stepping into the past, antiques and art supply stores and a upholstery store that smells just like his Ma’s laundry.
It’s how he finds Winter’s Brew.
It’s how he finds Bucky.
~*~
He doesn’t do it often--it’s only--
He has the money, a staggering wealth that makes him queasy sitting in his bank account, growing every month he stays on the rolls as an Avenger, a combination of backpay and a salary for being a super hero, neatly negotiated by Tony’s team of lawyers and Pepper Potts’ demanding smile, sugar and spice and everything he’d loved about Pegs.
So he has the money, what he never had in the forties, when he wanted so desperately to take care of his Ma.
And he doesn’t need it, is the thing.
Because Tony houses the team, feeds and equips them, and he merely has to muse about wanting something before it’s arriving, compliments of JARVIS and Tony both.
Bucky though--
Bucky is brilliant and hungry, a grad student studying and working on his thesis during late night shifts at the coffee shop. He walks dogs in the morning for the wealthy business men and women who can’t find the time for the animals they love and walks kids home in the afternoons to their drunk mothers and au pairs waiting with toddlers, and he hustles, works too hard for too little.
It makes sense, adds up to Steve, because he has this money he doesn’t know what to do with, besides stuffing a hundred or three into cups of tired eyed vagrants and pouring money into charities that he likes.
And that’s nice , it is, but--
But there’s something very satisfying about the smile, sunshine bright and strangely shy, when Steve buys Bucky something.
There’s something sweetly calming about the sight of Bucky in something he bought, like the silk blue dress shirt is a claim.
It scratches an itch to be needed , when Bucky stumbles into the coffeeshop with a bag full of text books he paid for, when he curls up on Steve’s sofa with a laptop he bought.
And sometimes--sometimes when he buys things for Bucky, it’s not because Bucky needs it or because he can .
It’s simply for the look, wide-eyed and pleased, a pretty flush in pale cheeks and wonder in slate blue eyes, that Bucky gives him in return.
~*~
They’re crammed into a small booth at a bar that Bruce insisted on, and Bucky’s a warm weight against his side, listing into Steve the more he drinks. He’s comfortable around the Avengers at this point, has spent enough time on Steve’s couch with Tony Stark crashing in without warning that he doesn’t even blink to see Clint and Natasha drop into the bar.
Bucky is drinking and happy and Steve’s team is around them, all of the people he likes best in the world and it’s perfect, even if Tony’s gaze keeps flicking back and forth between Steve and Bucky and Natash’s watching them with sharp eyes despite the vodka shots.
When his watch beeps, Steve nudges Bucky. “Time to go--you said you had class in the morning.”
“Class is stupid,” Bucky grumbles, and Steve laughs softly as he pats at his pockets, his motions growing choppy and desperate until he hisses a curse, and Steve tips his head down, toward Bucky. “What’s wrong?”
“My fucking--I don’t have my wallet,” he says and his eyes are big and worried and Steve frowns.
“Where’d you--”
“I gave it to Peter when we were walking home, so he could get some ice cream,” Bucky says, and Steve plucks the phone he’s tapping frantically against the table, tapping in Bucky’s password before scrolling--
“Peter has it, Buck, you’re fine.”
“But--”
Steve shushes him and slides two hundreds off his billfold, tossing them on the table before he stands and tugs Bucky after him
“I’m gonna help him home,” he tells the team, all of them watching him, and Bucky, Bucky is watching him with those damn wide eyes. “You can’t get a cab without money, Buck,” he says reasonably, and tucks Bucky’s scarf into his coat. “C’mon.”
He doesn’t think about the way his team watches him walking away or the way that Bucky allows himself to be led.
~*~
He only meant to get a cup of coffee. He didn’t mean to befriend Bucky, or maybe it was the other way, maybe Bucky befriend him, filling the afternoons and evenings in Winter’s Brew with quiet chatter, rambling about his classes and reading bits of whatever sci-fi he had found, or leaning over the counter to show Steve a particularly adorable picture of Alpine.
He slipped under the edges of Steve’s defences, until he was snug under the skin, nestled where Steve kept the people who mattered to him--the team and his Ma, Peggy and the Howlies--and it never bothered him, really, that Bucky fit there, so effortless and easy.
~*~
He gets the call while he’s on his way to the garage, and answers it with a grin. “Buck, you promised, you can’t back out--”
“I’m not,” Bucky says, “But you need to stop and buy my hair goop.”
His voice is pitched with panic and sharp with command it makes Steve’s spine snap straight, and he’s nodding, even as Bucky rambles on, “I’m sending the address, Alpine knocked it in the sink, I’m not going anywhere without my hair done.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “I’ll be over with it soon.”
“Thanks, Steve,’ Bucky breathes, and Steve shivers as a cool wind slices across the garage.
He gets the goop.
He gets some leave in conditioner and a mask and some bath salts too, because he thinks Bucky’d probably like it and he’s already here .
And the tiny smile Bucky gives him when he peeks in the bag--that tells him he was right, and sends a bolt of warmth through him that’s stoked a little every time he catches scent of conditioner in Bucky’s hair that night.
~*~
Bucky is normal, is the thing.
He knows who Steve is, Steve never tried to hide it, but Bucky never seemed to care . He smiled at Steve , listened to Steve complain about mission reports and overpriced fruit and the weird taste of bananas, and he rambled to Steve about school and his sister’s shitty boyfriend and the fact that there was a decent single guy left in the city.
Bucky is normal and it doesn’t matter if he’s curled up on Steve’s couch in Avenger Tower, or if they’re crashed in Bucky’s apartment fighting over the remote, it’s always easy, comfortable, being with Bucky.
And if he likes to bring new blankets for Bucky’s threadbare couch, and push a box with motorcycle boots across the table at him before they go upstate for a hike--if he likes to feed Bucky and buy him the little odds and ends that Bucky sees when they’re wandering through the city, it doesn’t mean anything.
It’s only that Bucky smiles at him, pleased and happy and sometimes--not always, but sometimes-- his eyes go half-lidded and his smile goes sly when he says, all smoke and promise, “Gonna have to let me pay you back for this sometime, Stevie.”
And Steve aches.
~*~
Sometimes they get looks.
When Bucky smiles at him, sweet and hopeful and Steve nods, and buys a series of books or a set of DVDs.
When they’re at the movies and Bucky is bouncing on his toes, trying to decide what candy he wants and Steve patiently says, “Get him one of each.”
When they’re at the Tower and Bucky says, “I love this blanket,” while he snuggles into Pepper’s favorite throw and Steve says, “JARVIS? One in blue, please?”
They get looks, and Bucky sometimes flushes when he sees the way people watching them, and it bothers Steve, makes him scoot closer, wrap an arm around his broad shoulders and squeeze until that flush and guilty embarrassment fades away and Bucky melts like sugar into his side.
~*~
They’re out with Natasha when it happens.
Steve’s been shopping with her often enough that he doesn’t even blink when she leads them into a high end lingerie store, just slides a glance at Bucky to make sure he’s ok.
He’s got a look on his face, wide-eyed, mouth a little parted, a delicate flush rising in his cheeks.
“Buck,” Steve says, concerned but Bucky’s already drifting away from him, fingers running over a pair of lace panties.
It’s unbearably erotic, pale fingers against midnight blue lace, and Steve swallows hard.
“It’s pretty,” Bucky breathes.
Steve swallows and says, not real sure where it’s coming from, “You--you like this kinda stuff?”
Bucky flushes, glances at him from under long dark lashes. “Yeah. I--it’s expensive, so I don’t got very much, just a teddy and a couple pair of panties for special occasions.”
Steve stares at him, and then, so soft it’s barely a whisper, “Show me what you like.”
Bucky blinks at him, big blue luminous and does as he’s told.
Later, when he’s home and the image of Bucky’s long pianist fingers brushing reverently over lace and silk and satin is burned into his eyes, he makes an order.
Two days later, Bucky sends him a picture, a broad chest wrapped in delicate silk the same deep blue as his stealth suit, a pair of boyshorts trimmed in white lace cupping a thick cock that makes his mouth water, and a simple thanks to caption it.
It’s followed quickly by a text. Tell me how to say thanks properly?
If he closes his eyes later, strokes himself to the image of Bucky wearing white lace and miles of pale skin, and eyes wide with gratitude and devotion--well.
He keeps that thought and the spine-meltingly good orgasm to himself.
~*~
It doesn’t mean anything.
He’s still Bucky, and sometimes when Steve looks at him all he can think about is the little black lace panties he’s got on under those skin tight pants, but for the most part--he’s just Bucky. Beautiful and brilliant and everything Steve didn’t realize he was missing.
And that’s all Bucky wants from him--just Steve. The friend. The guy who shows up and listens and hangs out when Bucky needs to get outside his head and quizzes him before a test.
He doesn’t want--doesn’t need-- to be kept and cared for, he’s been taking care of his sisters since his dad died when he was sixteen, he’s completely capable of taking care of himself.
They’re friends.
It’s only--sometimes he wants to take care of Bucky.
Sometimes, he wants more.
~*~
He’s sitting in the workshop and flicking through a few tablets he thinks Bucky’d like. “Add that, would you J? And send it over to him?”
“Of course, Captain,” Jarvis says smoothly and he settles back into the couch, a book already open when Tony’s curious gaze makes him pause. There’s a smile curling at the corner of Tony’s lips, that too knowing gaze sharp and mischievous.
“What?” he asks, a little self-conscious.
“I never thought you’d be the one to get a sugar baby, is all. I mean--not gonna judge, I’ve had a few in my day, but--”
“What are you talking about?” Steve interrupts, his ears burning and his stomach twisting, and Tony stills.
“Bucky bear. He’s your sugar baby. Can’t even blame you, Cap, the boy’s got a mouth made to fuck,” Tony laughs and Steve goes scarlet, flushed with rage and embarrassment, and something in Tony’s gaze softens, just a little. “Shit. J, would you--”
The phone beeps in his hand, and he scrolls through the descriptions and definitions, the explanations and his fingers tremble, and he doesn’t know if it’s from shock or hungry want.
~*~
It sits in his belly, a kernel of knowledge he doesn’t know what to do with, doesn’t really want, and it makes him anxious, makes him question when he goes to buy something, when he reaches for his card and Bucky smiles, all sweet and happy.
When Bucky bumps his shoulder and says, “Gonna have to let me repay you sometime.”
It’s that--Bucky’s familiar throwaway comment one night after they’re leaving a musical he’d been talking about for weeks, when Steve says, “You don’t have to, you know. It’s--I don’t know what Tony said, but it’s not like that.” He laughs, the sound rusted and awkward in his mouth, and Bucky is watching him, eyes big and curious and cautious. “It’s not like you’re my sugar baby.”
Bucky blinks at him, and when he smiles, it’s smaller, somehow.
~*~
Bucky stops answering his calls and when Steve shows up at work, he’s brusque and distant, almost cold, and it doesn’t make sense, it just--it burns in his chest, this place that’s empty and aching where Bucky should be and he knows that if Bucky is done, if he’s tired of this friendship that doesn’t give him nearly enough--he’s taking care of a seventy year old disaster, for fuck’s sake--that’s fine, that’s Bucky’s choice, that’s something Steve’s gotta respect.
He does.
He just--
“I miss you, Buck,” he says, earnest and Bucky stares at him wrapped up in a soft scarf and heavy coat and Steve can remember buying both, and he loves that even as angry as Bucky is, he’s still dressing himself in Steve’s clothes.
“Fine,” Bucky says. “We can get lunch. But I’m buying.”
~*~
It goes like this--
Things get better.
But Bucky is prickly now, about Steve buying things for him, almost snapping when he reaches for the bill, when he sends over gifts, when he shows up with food and movies and coffee, and he doesn’t understand because it’s nothing different, this is what they’ve always done.
It stings--a rejection he doesn’t understand or like.
It comes to a head on a Saturday morning after Bucky’s semester ends, when he shows up at Bucky's apartment with bagels and coffee and a new handheld gaming system because Bucky worked hard, and he deserved it, even if he’d never get it for himself.
Bucky stiffens when he sees Steve, laden with breakfast and a shiny red bag dangling from one finger and he pulls back, all stiff faced and closed off and Steve is tired .
“Why won’t you let me spoil you,” he snaps and Bucky recoils.
That isn’t--
That wasn’t what he meant to ask.
“Buck--”
“You don’t want me,” Bucky snarls, the momentary paralysis bleeding away and leaving fury in it’s wake. “You said you don’t want a sugar baby.
“I want you, ” Steve shouts back.”I wanna take care fo you and spoil you and you won’t let me.”
“Well, I wanna suck your cock and call you daddy, so I guess neither of us is getting what we want,” Bucky sasses back because he’s a brat and he’s beautiful and he’s everything Steve didn’t know he wanted.
He drops the coffee and the bagels, the stupid little toy his baby will coo over later, and Bucky makes a startled noise as coffee spills across hardwood, and then Steve is kissing him, licking into his mouth while Bucky is clinging to him and whining, hot and sweet and sucking on his tongue.
Maybe, Steve thinks, before Bucky puts his hands on Steve’s shoulders and levers himself up , maybe they both get exactly what they want.
~*~
Bucky looks beautiful in the pretty panties Steve bought him, sprawled across his silky sheets Steve gave him.
He looks even better naked and sucking cock, and when he can think again, all he can say is, “Tony was right--you’ve got a mouth made to fuck, baby,”
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Planning Too Late
A/N: This came from a suggestion by @lakamaa12 and takes place six months after Y/N and the Bucks met.
Early March in Southern California was unusually overcast and crisp. I sat outside one of my favorite Riverdale coffee shops wrapped in a long sleeve thermal and a Young Bucks hooded sweatshirt, nursing a steaming double espresso between my fingers. My phone sat on the tabletop next to me, waiting.
I sat back and let out a sigh, just about ready to call it quits and head back to my apartment. My eyes closed for a moment and, when they opened, a face filled my vision. Bright blue eyes and a cheesy grin looked back at me. At first, I thought I’d scream. Then I laughed deep in my chest and sprang up from my chair.
Nick Jackson stood a few feet away. I took a long moment to look him up and down. He wore his favorite Clippers hat, his long light brown hair in a looped ponytail, a navy zippered hoodie, and a pair of plain black sweatpants with worn sneakers. He grinned wider and I practically ran at him, throwing my arms around him. Nick grabbed me with both arms around my back and picked me up. My legs locked around his waist and I hugged him as hard as I could.
“Oh, God, I’ve missed you,” I whispered as he held me tight. “I hate it when you guys are in Japan. I absolutely hate it.”
He laughed and put me on my feet. “You do just fine without us, Y/N, and you know it. Matt, on the other hand…”
I blushed at the mention of my boyfriend. The elder Jackson brother was dark where his brother was light. His eyes were so dark they sometimes seemed black. His hair was a thick curtain of deep brown that he often wore in a knot on the crown of his head. Matt kept a beard—or at the very least some impressive mutton chops—while Nick was always cleanshaven or sporting a day’s stubble.
Some people might think it was odd that I’d see my boyfriend’s brother before my boyfriend—particularly when they’d been gone for weeks at a time. But it wasn’t strange, not for me. Nick and I had been friends as long as I’d been dating Matt. I’d met them both on the same day, at the same time.
Plus, we were meeting for a very specific reason. Matt’s thirty-first birthday was coming up. And Nick and I had two days to put together a surprise party before the two of them left for another tour.
Nick sank down into the chair at my left and picked up my cup. He took a sip and made a disgusted face. He stuck his tongue out a couple times and gagged. Drama queen.
“What the hell is that?” he asked, shaking his head and practically hacking like a cat with a hairball.
I took my seat and grabbed the cup. Without a blink, I took a large sip of the bitter liquid. “That is a double espresso with cream,” I replied with a grin. “Matt got me started on them.”
Nick wrinkled his nose. “You should meet Kenny. He’s into Vietnamese coffee. It’s sweet. Ken drinks it like a fish, but Matt hates it.”
Nodding, I pulled the little moleskin notebook from the pocket of my hoodie. “Okay, no Vietnamese coffee,” I said dramatically before schooling my features. I moved closer so that we could talk. “Seriously, Nick… you know him better than anyone else. What kind of party would he want?”
***
Nick looked at the list on his notes app. Y/N had sent him a dozen things to pick up and order for his brother’s surprise birthday party. He thought back to those precious few hours where they sat at the table in the early spring air and talked. Sure, they’d talked about Matt, but Nick felt a little spark of warmth in his chest at the knowledge that he’d been the first one to see her. It was a petty sort of victory, one that made him burn with guilt, but he couldn’t help it. His moments with Y/N were precious and far between, and they were almost always coupled with Matt.
Shaking his head, Nick walked up and down the aisles of the party supply store. He glanced down at the list—white and green balloons, white and green streamers, white and green napkins, white plates—and picked items off the shelves. She hadn’t asked for it, but he grabbed a tank of helium and one of those felt boards with letters. He added a few fabric table cloths and a cupcake tower.
He hardly blinked at the final total, even though he hadn’t gotten a few things on Y/N’s list. As he carried the bags out to the Nissan, he caught sight of another shop in the strip mall. He stopped dead in the center of the street and smiled. It wasn’t quite what Y/N had sent him for, but it would pull the whole theme together.
And, more than anything, he knew it would make her smile. She would throw a wonderful birthday party for his brother, and she would be happy.
The bell jingled over the door as he stepped inside. He walked up to the counter and asked for the manager or owner. The woman who came up to meet him reminded him a little of his mom.
“I’m sorry to take up your time, and I know this is a weird request, but…”
***
“Oh, Nick,” I said, feeling tears burning in my eyes. Looking around the small space we’d rented, I couldn’t help but marvel at everything he’d done. What I’d hoped would be a fun party for us to spend time together before he dashed away to wrestle, Nick had turned into an amazingly themed birthday celebration for his brother.
Nick stood at my side with his hands tucked into his pockets. Sweat glistened along his hairline. He must have been working for hours to put everything together. I looked up at him, feeling my lips curve into a wide, bright smile.
“Well?” he asked, rocking back on his heels. He caught his bottom lip in his teeth and blushed.
I took another glance around. The tables had been draped in alternating green and white cloths. Little domed lids marched from one end of the tables to the other, held down with handfuls of individually wrapped minds. Along the side of the room, a pair of tables had been set up with the food. They were both draped in green cloths. On the wall behind them, a set of alternating green and white streamers hung from a cluster of balloons. One held sandwiches, vegetable and fruit trays, and other finger foods. The other had been decked out with desserts.
A felt board sat in the center, the letters arranged on the surface to read Frappe 31st Birthday, Matt! A cupcake tower was already set and filled with chocolate cupcakes iced in green or white buttercream. Clear plastic cups sat in neat rows next to the cooler filled with ice and drinks. White paper cups were filled to brimming with caramel popcorn mixed with chocolate candies.
And everything was emblazoned with the Starbucks logo.
“How did you manage this?” I gasped, running my fingers over the felt board. “How did you even think of this?”
Nick grinned, his eyes going bright. “I picked up the stuff from the party store, and there was a Starbucks right there. I went in and told the manager what we were doing. Since it wasn’t a whole lot, she gave it to me pretty cheap.”
I turned toward him and stretched onto my toes. It didn’t matter that he was sweating. He had done so much to make this party perfect for Matt, and I couldn’t help but be grateful. I put my arms around his neck and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
“You’re amazing, Nick! This is…” I blinked back tears again. “Matt’s going to love this.”
***
Nick walked at Matt’s side. His brother was frustrated. It was their last night before they had to fly out for another two or three weeks for a tour and they were running late for dinner with Y/N. Matt looked sideways at Nick.
“Why are we here?” he grumbled, crossing his arms.
Nick tried not to grin. “It’s just for a minute. There’s a promotor here I want you to meet.”
Matt stuck his hands in his pockets as he followed his brother through the front doors of the building. Nick led the way into a small, dark room.
“Hey?” Nick said, fumbling loudly against the wall.
In an instant, the place flooded with light. “Surprise!” People sprang up from every direction. It took Matt a moment to realize what had happened. It wasn’t until he saw his parents, his other brother, and his sister that he started to make sense of things. When he saw Y/N standing by a table wearing a Starbucks apron, he felt his heart go wild in his chest.
“You!” Matt said, practically racing across the room. He swept his girlfriend into his arms and kissed her sweetly. He hugged her tightly and swayed back and forth. “Is this why you’ve been so preoccupied this weekend?”
Y/N smiled, and Nick thought he’d never seen anything so beautiful. He watched her look at Matt as if he’d hung the stars just for her. Then she turned to look at him, and it felt—just for a moment—as if he was the only person in the world.
“It wasn’t just me,” Y/N said brightly, gesturing to the table filled with Starbucks paraphernalia. “Nick is the one who did all this.”
She held her hand out toward him, wiggling her fingers to get him to come closer. When he was within reach, she took his hand in hers and tugged him close to her side. “I couldn’t have thrown this party for you without him.”
Nick smiled and felt his heart skip in his chest. He thought back to that moment in the store. He’d been right. Y/N had smiled and laughed and loved every moment and ounce of sweat he’d put into the touches he put onto the party. It had made Matt happy.
But more than anything, it made her happy.
Tag List
@mox-made-me-do-it @lakamaa12 @not-that-kinda-gurl08 @justamess44 @lilred91 @imagineall-the-fandoms @maelleoute @librathepheonix13
#planning too late#the too late tales#too late tales#nick jackson#nick jackson fanfiction#matt jackson#matt jackson fanfiction#young bucks#young bucks fanfiction#aew#aew fanfiction#polyamory#polyamorous relationships#matt x reader#pining
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1147
Have you ever overflown a bathtub? Hmm, I can’t remember ever doing that.
Why did you ignore the last person you ignored? My new manager, Kata, messaged me a bunch of links to EXO’s videos to get me into them – I looooove that she’s friendly and we vibe super well so I have a feeling will be close soon enough, but I’m still a bit shy so I ignored her for a bit while I was thinking of a reply haha. I’ve since gotten back to her, though.
What's your favorite pizza place? Yellow Cab’s pizzas have never failed me. Mama Lou’s is good too, but they don’t deliver to my area so I haven’t had their pizzas and any of their food in over a year now.
What was the last stupid thing someone talked you into believing? That we can stay friends. I believed it for a while and it was so mentally and emotionally deteriorating for me, so I did the right thing and let go instead.
What's at the top of your to do list in life? Save. I’m superrrrr frugal with my money and hate spoiling myself. I’d rather enjoy everything in the future once I feel like it’s right to settle down.
What's a song that would describe your life at the moment? What Type of X by Jessi. Maybe not my life, but the song certainly matches my mood these days.
Do you ever scream at inanimate objects? Occasionally, if they’re not working or if I accidentally hurt myself with them.
What was the last thing that you shared? I just had lunch delivered to Angela’s place as a surprise, if that counts. I got her chicken wings and these chocolate chip cookies she’s always wanted to try. It feels really nice surprising people with gifts; I might start making it a habit :) I have to credit my director Bea for it - she’s been having food delivered to mine and Kata’s places recently and I just want to pay it forward.
What smell/s can you absolutely not stand? Fruits. We constantly have a stock of oranges because my parents and sister like having them after dinner, and the smell is nauseating. Spoiled food is also high up on my list, and the general smell in Manila is also very foul. Go to other places in the Philippines if you’ll ever visit!!!
Do you ever eat leftover pizza cold? Yessssssssssssssss. Idk why but I find it really good? like even if I eat it straight out of the fridge.
Where are you the most ticklish? The sides of my stomach and around my neck.
Would you put your life in danger to rescue someone? Someone absolutely important to me, yes.
When you're wanting a midnight snack, what do you normally get? I usually don’t really like the snacks we have in our pantry so unless I already had food delivered earlier in the evening I just let the hunger fade because I don’t like having food delivered that late anyway.
Which cartoon character would you want to keep as a pet? Buster from Toy Story. Or Maximus from Tangled but in dog form, because I don’t know how to care for a horse.
What color best represents you? Something peaceful like off-white, or a pastel shade.
Do you like marshmallows? I hate them.
What is your favorite flavor of candy cane? I also don’t like candy canes, or candy in general. Too sweet and I can always feel how unhealthy they are whenever I have to have them.
Do you have any shoeboxes full of old photos/letters/other memorable stuff? My mom has several plastic bags filled with photographs over the last few decades. As for me, I don’t own any memory boxes; but recently, I’ve been sticking up notes from my friends and co-workers up on my corkboard.
Are you in any way double jointed? Nope.
Have you ever considered a career in music/acting? Never. I never liked singing in public and I’ve never considered acting.
When was the last time you felt seriously embarrassed? A few days ago when I accidentally turned my camera on during a work Zoom meeting while I looked completely unpresentable. Luckily I knew I clicked the button and immediately un-clicked it, but my video still showed up for like 0.001 seconds lol.
Have you ever liked a song, looked up the lyrics to it, then hated it? I don’t think I’ve gone so far as to hate it. I have felt slightly disturbed upon hearing the lyrics of some songs I’ve taken a liking to though; and Cherry Wine by Hozier certainly ticks off this box.
Which is worse for you: being hot, or being cold? Hot, which is why living where I do doesn’t work with me well for the most part.
What would be the icing on the cake for you this Christmas? Get nicer gifts for my loved ones. I was able to get everyone presents last Christmas, but given that I had just received my first-ever salary then, I wasn’t able to go all out as much as I would’ve liked. I’d love to spoil my loved ones even more for next Christmas.
If you had the opportunity to live forever, would you take it? Probably, as long as I was guaranteed to live comfortably. I’d love to see how else technology can continue to improve.
Have you made someone happy today? I hope so, when I got Angela food earlier.
Do you generally watch a lot of television? I do watch my favorite shows a lot, but not on television. Most of my content I already consume online.
If your bedroom walls could talk, what would they most likely say? They’d probably go over all the shit I had to go through and the ensuing breakdowns they’ve had to watch from me over the years.
What's your favorite Christmas song? It’s Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas, because it makes me feel festive.
Did you ever really believe in Santa Claus? Only for a brief moment when I was introduced to the concept, but kid-me never bought it because he never showed up.
Do you like the band Relient K? I’ve heard of the band name but I’m largely unfamiliar with them.
Have you ever seen a movie that was better than the book it was based on? Maybe, but for the most part I usually find the books to be better.
Do you like quesadillas? Yes, omg and with jalapeños and cheese *chef’s kiss*
Did you like the show Invader Zim? Nope.
Do you think tomorrow will be a good day? I feel like I’ll be sullen because it will be Sunday again, but I still plan on making the most out of it.
Do you ever talk to yourself? A lot.
Whose butt did you last slap? Idk, probably my ex.
Do you think that chivalry is dead? I don’t think so, but I also think it’s a bit outdated.
What's the greatest/most influential song you've ever heard? That’s a lot of pressure on a song... as much as I don’t really like The Beatles, I’d say Hey Jude has been pretty influential.
What's the weirdest thing you've seen in a grocery store? Not sure. If I had thought something I’ve seen was the weirdest thing ever, I would’ve taken a photo.
What is true love to you? Sacrifices.
Do you like chocolate milk? YES, lactose intolerance be damned.
Have you ever bought yourself a present on Christmas? Not yet. I hope to be able to this year!
Have you ever been on a mechanical bull? Nope, but I’d definitely get on one if I find one here.
Do you prefer to pull off band-aids slowly or quickly? Slowly. Actually, I prefer running water over it until it just slides off.
Have you made a mistake in the past week? I am constantly making tiny mistakes at work.
What was the last weird thing you said to someone? Idk, I feel like all the conversations I’ve had recently didn’t involve any inside jokes or general weirdness.
Have you ever met any bands/band members before? I got to work with one - Redd is the drummer for a local band but he’s since resigned to work with another company.
Have you ever sat on a copy machine and made copies of your butt? No. I’ve never even used a copy machine.
Are you a camera whore? Not at all, I hate posing for the camera.
Have you ever purposely dropped someone's toothbrush in a toilet? Never even considered it.
What kind of mood are you in right now? A little sad because it’s the weekend and I can’t even do my weekend coffee shop trips anymore because Covid cases are experiencing another surge (9000 cases a day!!!), protocols are everywhere again, and my parents already told me I can’t go out...those moments were my rare time alone where I can take walks and reflect and whatnot (and not to mention experieince air conditioning for a few hours), so it sucks to have to be stuck at home again. There’s not much to do at home to begin with, so now I’m just stuck in a cycle of taking surveys and finding videos to watch on YouTube.
What was the last thing someone told you that had you at a loss for words? I was ranting to Andi about how I started despising Diane from BoJack Horseman the moment she flipped out over Mr. Peanutbutter gifting her an entire library. I get where she’s coming from, of course, “understand people’s love language” and all that; but I felt like the very hostile reaction was super uncalled for and it reminded me a lot of my relationship with Gabie – I liked giving and giving, but it was either 1) never enough or 2) apparently the wrong way to show her love, and I was always the one punished for it in the end. I told Andi that because of my experience with her, I don’t even feel like giving a library (metaphorically speaking) to any future significant others anymore because of how hard I had it with her.
Anyway, they gave me some advice about it and in the end they told me, “One day, someone will tell you, “Thank you for your library.’” It was very beautifully put and I struggled to find the words to reply.
What's something that always makes you smile, regardless of what’s going on? I’m not sure there is such a no-fail thing.
What was that last thing that you bought online? Food for Angela.
Do you enjoy riding around town looking at Christmas lights? Yeah, but the general mood for last year obviously wasn’t super festive and there weren’t as much lights, so it’s been a while since I’ve seen my village all decked out.
Is there someone that you're mean to for no good reason? No, that’s terrible.
What was the last thing you got out of the freezer? The coffee ice cream that I bought from Leigh yesterday! It’s crazy fucking good and I already feel a repeat order coming through.
Are you currently reading anything? No.
What's a good book you'd recommend? I don’t read anymore. I know child/teen-me would be very disappointed.
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Three Days ~ 62
~*~Emma~*~
I slapped at my phone until the alarm stopped. My head was exploding. Why did I think drinking champagne all day was a good idea? I guess it was better than being sober all day. Thankfully, there was Advil in my purse and a bottle of water on the nightstand. The alarm went off again. I grabbed my phone, silenced the alarm, and checked what I'd done. There were alarms set for every fifteen minutes. Must have hit snooze last time. At least I'd had the forethought to set my alarm early enough to pack. There was a little blinking light telling me I had a text.
Sebastian ~ Up early for a TV interview. Hope you're not feeling too bad. Enjoy your morning with the women.
Sebastian ~ If we miss each other have a safe flight.
Sebastian ~ Check Instagram
Uh oh. Wonder what he posted. I touched the notification saying he'd posted and laughed. The mouse ears were so him. He looked adorable. The mocking expression on his face and the caption was perfect. From the many, many comments his fans agreed. I liked the post but went back to text to comment.
Emma ~ Funny, funny boy. And cute.
Emma ~ Head bursting. My own fault.
Emma ~ xoxo
I showered, packed, got ready, and double-checked I had everything before dragging my bag downstairs. The house was quiet. I'd said my good-byes to Dad, Amy, and Katie last night. Mom came down as I was finishing my toast and fruit. She was dressed in scrubs and looked like her Advil hadn't kicked in yet. She went straight to the Keurig, "How's your head?"
I held up my coffee cup, "Caffeine and Advil have helped. You?"
"Why did we think that was a good idea?"
I laughed, "It was fun."
"You need to drink a lot of water before your flight."
"Will do." I grabbed us both a bottle of water out of the fridge.
In the car, mom called into work and did her typical morning meeting. I used to love going in to do rounds. Very Grey’s Anatomy. Not quite as fascinating as an adult. I used the time to post a couple of things on Instagram. Amy and I had mom take identical pictures yesterday and I posted them with dad’s bad joke about not being able to imagine what I'd look like with short hair. The first pick was me with long hair and if you swiped you got Amy with shorter hair. One more swipe gave you a picture of us both.
Chris Evans was the first comment, "You just gave Seb a heart attack."
I sent back, "Na, we had a FT date last night."
If Sebastian, Chris, and Chace were going to be commenting I needed to go through my followers and cull the people with which I didn't interact. By the look of follow requests, Amy must have given out my user name. Most were people from Saturday. That wasn't going to happen. Lauren was the only possible and I left her on the list. The others I declined. Even without the Three Musketeers, I wouldn’t have approved them.
The shelter had a real name, but if you knew where and what it was you referred to it as a home for lost girls. There was usually a wide range of ages, but they were all lost girls. Mom went to set up and I joined the other women in the common room. There was no time limit for staying and every time I came here it was a mix of old and new faces. Stacy, one of the therapists from my rehab facility, was now the director and she joined us ten minutes after I'd arrived. She called for everyone to gather and I joined in their morning group. So many women with so many stories just trying to make it through the nights. I was cautious with what I disclosed but easily gave feedback and comfort. When group was over mom started calling today's patients back. Others went off to start their day and I stayed with whoever was left. I spent a long time with a girl who couldn’t be much over eighteen. Her timid jumpiness told me she was new, her story fresh. I sat with her, Stacy, and two other residents until they convinced her to join them for some distraction.
Stacy studied my face, "You look happy. Things going well?"
There was always a check. She did groups when I was in rehab, so while I worked with her it wasn’t individual. I’m sure she knew more about me from treatment planning meetings than I’d shared with her. I had asked Trevor once what he shared and he said just the basics, but not details of my story. "Very. Work, good volleyball team, life in general." I felt the smile forming.
"That's a boyfriend face if I’ve ever seen one."
"He’s pretty great." I glanced to the hall making sure my mom wasn't there. "Helped me get through this long weekend."
"I guess that means I won't be seeing you more often. You're very soothing. I could put you to good use."
I cringed, "Don't let mom hear you say that."
The fun thing about talking to Stacy in this setting is I get to know about her life too. We caught up like old friends until mom was ready to go.
"There's enough time to get a coffee. You could tell me more about you and Sebastian."
Seriously? I've been here four days. We're on the way to the airport. This is the last possible moment she could ask about us, about him. I am doubtful of the sincerity of her curiosity.
"Mom, I appreciate the olive branch, but no, I don't want to have coffee and talk about Sebastian."
She didn't look at me.
I felt a little bad. "Is there something going on with Amy I don't know about?"
Her face read panic when she looked over, "Why would you ask that?"
"Because you and dad are so, I don’t know, protective. She hasn't used since she got pregnant. She's a good mom. Work is good. Saturday was fun. She and Max are a thing. Since Christmastime, we’ve talked and texted more. She seems in a good place. I don’t get why I’m supposed to pretend my life sucks. Is there something you're not telling me?"
"No, she's doing well. Can you understand we want to keep it that way?"
"Of course, but is sheltering her like this necessary?" She started to say something and I held up my hand. "Let me finish. You're trying so hard to protect her you've hurt me. I’ve never felt less important than this visit. Completely discounted. Like you don't care about my life, my happiness."
"That's not true, but Amy..."
I interrupted, angry now, "No, mom. I tell you my feelings are hurt and I feel unimportant and instead of addressing me you say "but Amy." I don't brag about myself, but it seems like anything above my total failure is assumed to make her inferior. If that's true she needs a better therapist. Did you ever consider that your over-protectiveness tells her she's not capable? Just like when we were sixteen, what you see as best is the worst possible thing for me. You saw us as broken and damaged. When I didn't see myself that way you focused on Amy instead of putting aside your guilt and fear to figure out what I needed. I didn’t need pity or to be seen as half a person damaged by a tragedy. I needed to be seen as a strong whole person who had something bad happen. Twelve years later my experience is still less because I wasn't addicted to heroin. The rest was different but equally bad."
"I understand that, Emma. I'm proud of you. I don't know the reasons, why you soar and she struggles. Maybe part is on us. We were devasted and grieving. Amy's reaction made sense. Yours didn’t. You are not less important. Your happiness matters. You are stronger than Amy. It takes nothing from you to restrain what you talk about in front of her."
Right back where we started. "The only reason it doesn’t is that I won't let it."
The look on her face was relieved. Pleased. She misunderstood and I wasn't willing to clarify.
It does take something from me to diminish my happiness and hide my successes. It does take something away from me to have my parents not ask about me except for the last half hour of my visit or expect me to whisper in the corner. With the limited time I spend with my biological family, I could do as they ask. The problem isn't as much what they ask of me, as much as their complete unawareness or lack of concern about my feelings. As Eli, and probably Sebastian, would say, "they chose Amy."
I choose me.
The silence was uncomfortable, so I filled it talking about room switches at work and my ideas for changing my room’s theme. It's possible I was being childish by refusing to talk about Sebastian. I definitely felt like a child right now. A surly one.
At the airport, we hugged, exchanged I love yous, and she told me to tell Sebastian it was nice to meet him. I said I would. Might have been a lie.
In the baggage check line, I mulled over options. I wanted a friendly voice, but I wanted to leave this behind. Angie and I had texted several times a day as usual and she knew what was going on.
Emma ~ Heading toward security. Once I clear I could use a friendly voice.
Angie ~ You can keep me company while I fold laundry. Support or distraction?
Emma ~ Distraction
Angie ~ Oh good, I want to hear the story behind the mouse ears. He looked hot.
Emma ~ Will do!
There was plenty of time before my flight since I’d opted out of coffee with mom. I headed to the food court area. The first thing I saw was a Savannah Candy Kitchen and bought enough pralines to share at school tomorrow. We had to have our rooms packed by Friday if we wanted the custodial staff to move us. Luckily, I kept everything in my cabinets in totes and bins, so that was done. I enjoyed taking things down and starting over. I’d throw on some music, dance, and sing my way through the day.
One bite of praline and my stomach started screaming. I’d had toast and fruit for breakfast to work through the hangover. That was gone. I’d forgotten there was a Varsity in Terminal C. Mmmm. Cheeseburger, some home-made fries, and a super thick orange shake. I could walk to the one at UGA from my Freshman dorm. I found a table in a corner and took a picture to make people jealous with later before calling Angie.
“Mind if I eat while we talk?”
“We take our phones to the bathroom and keep on FaceTime.”
“Good point.” Not like we didn’t go to the bathroom together. Seemed silly to hang up. “Sebastian told me I could watch him pee the other night.”
She laughed, “How did this come up in conversation?”
“We were discussing birthday sex and it took a turn into limits. Watching him pee is as far as he’ll go.” We both laughed.
“Perfectly acceptable limit.”
“Definitely.” I shoved a fry in my mouth and moaned my approval. “He can feel the strings of my IUD.”
“Eli can’t.”
“Does Eli have short fingers?”
“Do you have a short vagina?” We laughed some more, both knowing we’d be checking out their fingers the next time we were together. “What’s the deal with the ears?”
“I signed an NDA yesterday. Sebastian felt bad about it. Disney was the only studio on the thing, so I sent him ears.” I shrugged and took a bite of my burger.
“That’s cute. Both of you. There’s something hot about Disney knowing he’s going to tell you secrets and making sure you can’t repeat them.”
I talked around a mouthful of hamburger, “I thought the same thing!”
We talked about nothing and everything until my flight was called. Sometime in there, Eli came home and we were on speakerphone for a while. They had a gig this weekend and I’d be in town. Sebastian and I hadn’t talked about plans yet. I’d think about plans after I had my hands on him. Literally. About an hour after.
Once we were high enough, I switched my phone on and connected to the plane's WiFi. I’d missed a text while I was talking to Eli and Angie.
Sebastian ~ Woo hoo, where are you?
Emma ~ 30,000 feet above Georgia.
Emma ~ I was talking to Angie and Eli and missed you. ☹
Sebastian ~ No sad face. I’m here. I miss you too.
Emma ~ Hi . . . what are you doing?
Sebastian ~ Finished with a lunch. Meeting/sightseeing trip soon. Pretty sure that means going to a bar.
Emma ~ Or strip club. Look, don’t touch.
Sebastian ~ Promise. Don’t think that’s the plan. What are you doing tonight?
Emma ~ Not a damn thing. Sitting in the quiet of my house.
Sebastian ~ Sounds peaceful. I’m afraid to ask how today went.
Emma ~ Shelter was great. Drive to airport not so much. Nothing worth whining about. I feel like I’ve done enough of that lately.
Sebastian ~ Not whining. I know you got this, but I liked being leaned on.
Emma ~ I liked you being there. Thank you again.
Sebastian ~ You’re welcome. Work tomorrow?
Emma ~ Yep, have to everything boxed up by Friday. Mallory and I are just switching rooms. I’ll be hosting lunches next year. Closer to the cafeteria. Closer to parking. Same view just the other side of the building.
Sebastian ~ Makes it easy. I’ll call you tomorrow. Not such a jam-packed day.
Emma ~ No worries. I see you in two days.
Sebastian ~ Going to kiss you so hard you’ll push me away.
Emma ~ Wouldn’t count on that, baby cakes.
Sebastian ~ Baby cakes . . . lol
Emma ~ Maybe one day I’ll pick one.
Sebastian ~ I enjoy the variety.
Emma ~ Very mood dependent
Sebastian ~ So asshole would be angry?
Emma ~ I’m far more creative than asshole.
Sebastian ~ I don’t doubt that. For now, Mr. Baby Cakes will do.
Emma ~ And you may address me as Princess Emeliana of Seattle. Dare you to scream that when you come.
Sebastian ~ Now I have to at least try. I’ll practice later.
Emma ~ Tease.
Sebastian ~ Only in the best way. I have to go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.
Sebastian ~ I miss you, Em
Emma ~ Miss you too, Bastian
I went back to Sebastian's Instagram account and did a quick scroll through the comments on his latest post. Even though I wasn't mentioned it was the first sign of me on his IG and I was curious. The closest anyone got was a question if they were his ears because they were Minnie ears. That was irrelevant. I picked them because they matched my bikini and he would notice. I didn't go back to the picture from brunch, but it did get me thinking. I had no strong feelings one way or another about being photographed with him. I’ve never been into the whole Instagram official or Facebook relationship thing. Don't even have Facebook. Even for a non-celebrity, I think social media is more about perception than truth. I am guilty of that too. Hell, even this weekend. I was not immune to liking the attention from friends when I posted something. The DM's after Chris' comment had been fun as shit. There was the group picture from the tournament, but if you didn’t know it was Sebastian wrapped around me, you'd never recognize Sebastian. Ok, a fan would.
Sebastian had said we'd talk about fans later. He’d mentioned they weren't always nice to his friends or girlfriends. I went looking and it didn't take long to find a blog that chronicled his dating history. I was both intrigued and frightened. I understand the public figure piece and fan culture. But being able to see all this about my boyfriend felt like I was looking through his phone gallery and text messages. Alternately, if everyone else knew why shouldn’t I? My solution was to avoid information on Sebastian's relationships as much as I could and stick to fan reactions. It wasn't really hard to do. Pretty quickly I realized Twitter was a hot mess. The ease with which people hit reply and said things I hoped they'd never say face to face was like a shark feeding frenzy. Comment sections on Instagram weren't quite as bad. It lacked the voraciousness. Something about the way comments were nested with replies instead of a never-ending thread seemed less frantic. I now understood what Sebastian had said about the fans tearing each other apart. So often what should have been a disagreement turned into personal attacks. That shit was awful. Comments about friends and girlfriends were the typical fan bullshit. Friends were using him, exploiting the relationship, sharing pictures he didn't want them to, and bragging. Girlfriends weren't good enough, not pretty enough, also using him, and baiting fans. Several of the comments were fake nice. I'm sure some of that was trying to get on the friend, girlfriend, or his good side. Still, the bulk was positive. The negative minority was vocal and vicious.
One of the more interesting offshoots were Sebastian's reactions. They were stretched over years and more toward the whole situation. There were comments he made about it being out of line, hurtful to him, and few where'd he'd lost it and basically told someone to back off. I enjoyed the video clips with him talking about the toxicity and his position that he (and everyone else) needed to live their lives to make themselves happy. The biggest criticism of him was him not making them stop or coming to the defense of his girlfriends. Not sure how he'd make anyone stop. I was sure his lack of publicly defending wasn't indicative of anything except a refusal to engage. He would have taken shit if he had. Damned if you do, damned if you don't. It was clear from our limited conversations on the topic, that he was unhappy with the idea of me being attacked. I wonder if the previous girlfriends were as upset by his assumed indifference as the fans were?
I caught the odd detail or a comment he'd made on an ex’s post. I kept scrolling. It was none of my business. Plus, I wasn't sure how I'd feel about seeing them. I felt a twitch of jealousy with what I had seen, but it was tempered with my belief that exes were exes for a reason. I think knowing too many details of those who came before could lead to comparisons and uncomfortable conversations. Wasn’t super excited to tell him about this, but I would.
As soon as we were given clearance to use our phones, I made a call, knowing it would go to voice mail. "Hey Trevor, it's Emma. Do you have some time for me? Nothing critical. I just got back from Georgia and wanted to talk. Talk to you soon."
I was almost home when Trevor called back, "I always have time for you, Emma."
I laughed, "Only because you like being able to say you've worked with someone for twelve years."
"Sort of. I'm invested. I like keeping up with you. Meet you at the office about five?"
It was almost four, "Perfect. Thank you, Trevor." That gave me time to unpack, start a load of laundry, and make a grocery list.
The office where Trevor and I met wasn't his. One of his friends had a private practice and we'd met there since I moved to Beacon. Before that, it was video sessions. It was after hours, so Trevor met me at the door and locked it behind me. We hugged briefly and I said, "Thank you for seeing me."
Trevor shook his head, "I'm glad you called." He held out his hand, directing me to the office.
"I hope I didn't screw up a parent's night out. I'll send Kristy a gift certificate to a spa. One with childcare. The baby is six months now?"
"Sara is five months. Want to see a picture?"
"Of course." I scoffed. He unlocked his phone and showed me. "She's beautiful, Trevor. I'm so happy for you. You guys will be great parents."
He smiled, "And how are yours?"
I shrugged with a grimace, "Same as always."
I spent the next who knows how long telling him the events and conversations of the last four days. We'd worked together long enough he knew my nonverbals and I knew to add in the words for my emotions. It saved a lot of time with him going back and making me “name my feelings”. When I finished with the car ride today, I took a deep breath and huffed it out.
Trevor said, "Wow."
I laughed. "I know. It was a lot."
"No." He shook his head, "I mean wow, you said all that to your mom. You should be proud of yourself. I'm proud of you. That couldn't have been easy."
"I'd already talked to Ed and Sebastian about everything before, so my thoughts were sorted. I don't feel bad about anything I said, but I'm not sure I'm right." This is why I’d called Trevor. I needed the objective voice of reason. "Am I wrong?"
"Your experience isn't right or wrong."
I just glared at him.
Trevor leaned forward, "You're not wrong. What happened this weekend isn't ok. It's not ok to ask you to hide your happiness. It’s not ok for them to not ask you about your life. It's not ok when you say your feelings are hurt and you feel unimportant for your mother, or anyone else, to tell you how you are wrong."
I wiped my eyes. I felt relief with the validation "Thank you."
He reached over and put a hand on my arm. "You know this, Emma."
"I do." I nodded. "It was just a lot and I needed someone objective." I laughed, "Although Ed told me I've made choices and there are consequences."
Trevor laughed, "He's not wrong, but I think he agrees with most of your choices. He'll tell you if he doesn’t."
"Definitely."
Trevor leaned back and tented his fingers, "Why now? None of this is new. You've gone along with being careful with what you tell Amy. You already limit time with your family because of all these same things. Why say enough now?"
I didn't even have to think. "Sebastian." I started to smile. Trevor started to smile "I’ve meet this man I'm excited about. I want to tell my family, my parents and sister, about him. We set up a video call so they could meet him. Mom was rude. Then they wanted to know nothing more until I was packed and in the car. Tempering my excitement about work and friends is one thing. Sebastian is another thing completely."
"What would you have told them?"
"What would I tell them or what would I tell you?"
Trevor thought about his answer. "Me."
I preferred that answer. I don't know what I would have told them. The answer was very different now than when I was on the plane to Georgia. "Sebastian is a good man. He is good to me... good for me. I love how we talk. I love how he owns his shit. I love how he supports me." It took me a minute to figure out the next bit because I knew Trevor would ask. "I think we crashed into each other and just went for it. But not sharing secrets all at once then regretting having said too much. As we talk and are part of each other’s lives stuff is coming out naturally."
"As you trust more you reveal more. Both of you." Trevor summed that up nicely and I nodded in agreement. "What have you told him?"
"Enough. A lot. Not everything. He doesn't know how I met Ed. He doesn't know all the reasons we went to rehab. There's a chunk of time he doesn't know about." I smiled.
"You gonna tell him?"
I was surprised by how the question hit me. "I never told Jimmy."
Trevor made a face and tilted his head back and forth. "It was fresher. You were both awfully young. You're much more accepting of what you did than you were then." He squinted his eyes and studied me, "You're uncomfortable."
It was a statement, not a question. "I feel ashamed of myself." I chewed on my lip. "We've talked about how relationships are about being brave enough to be vulnerable with another person. We've done both and we've talked about it what that’s been like." I rubbed my finger over where I'd bit too hard. "I'm not brave enough to be that vulnerable."
"Oh, I think you are. You're scared, but you are brave enough. The night we met I was in awe of your bravery. That opinion hasn't changed. I'm not saying you should leave here and tell him everything. But since you feel ashamed you might want to think about talking to him before that shame gets in the way. What are you afraid of?"
"Sebastian will be upset. He has a big heart. He'll be anxious if I'm ok. He’ll think too much."
"Sure. When we learn someone we love has been through something traumatic it's normal to be upset and concerned about them. It’s a good thing.” He paused, looked at me, and spoke again, “What are you afraid of, Emma?"
I was angry at Trevor for not the first time. He makes me look at things I don't want to. I know it’s his job, I count on him to do it, but it pisses me off. "If he knows what I did... the things I had to learn to accept... the things I still struggle with... I like the way he looks at me like I’m good and precious. I'm afraid he'll see me differently." Took no time for the tears to fall.
Trevor said nothing for what felt like an hour, letting me sit in the emotion. When he spoke it was his quiet soothing voice. I used to get mad at his comforting tone too, like I didn’t deserve it, but I know better now. "Seeing you differently doesn't have to be negative. You've not told enough people to be confident it that. Who have you told?"
Trevor knew the answer. He wanted to remind me I knew it too. "Angie and Eli know most everything. Ed knows it all. And you."
"Did any of us react negatively?" I shook my head no. "They were upset. They empathized with you. But it didn't change how they loved you. It made them love you more. Your fear isn't in line with reality. There's no reason. . ." He stopped and took a breath. "Do you love him, Emma?"
"Yes."
"Have you told him?"
"No, I haven't seen him yet."
"Has he told you he loves you?"
"No."
"Does he?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure?"
"Completely."
"So if everyone you’ve told loved you more there is no reason to think Sebastian would be any different.”
We sat quietly until my tears gave way to a loud cathartic laugh. "You are good."
"Thanks." He blew on his nails and shined them on his shirt.
"How did you do that? Seriously, how?"
Sometimes he'd tell me how he did his therapy magic. Luckily, today was one of those days. "There was something not fitting. Sebastian wasn’t fitting with the others for you. You didn't look at me when I said they'd loved you more. I went on a hunch. You'd not said you loved him. So, I walked you through that so he fit where you could see him as love plus story equals more love."
"Fascinating"
"I know you’re not ready to go public with your story, but I hope someday you will. You could make such a difference in so many lives. I know you channel that into teaching, but if you ever change your mind your story and successes will matter. Just keep it in mind."
"I will." We were winding down. "Do you want to see Sebastian?"
"Yes."
"He's not as cute as your Sara, but he'll do for me." I handed him my phone.
Trevor looked at my phone, then me, then the phone again. "Holy shit, Emma."
"You know him?"
"I am huge Marvel comic nerd. There's stuff in my office. You didn’t notice?"
"I’m not a Marvel nerd. Well, now, sort of."
He laughed, "I got to do family therapy with the lead singer of Pearl Jam. Now I'll get to do couples therapy with the Winter Soldier."
I stretched out my leg and kicked him in the shin, "We do not need couples therapy. We each have our own therapist."
We laughed for a nice long while before Trevor tied everything up. "I'm glad you called to get the validation you needed and to at least look at adding someone to the list of who can support you. I was with you when you told Ed. If you need me to be there if you decide to tell Sebastian I will be. You are correct in thinking the men you love most will struggle most."
I nodded, "I'll think about it. Thank you."
"Thank you for the most successful and challenging session I've had in weeks."
“Glad I could amuse you.”
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Corner Store [2]
Description: Arthur Kirkland had owned and run a corner store for the past 15 years. He is determined to go through the rest of his life with minimal change. However, when he takes notice of three high school boys, his world gets turned around as he tries to piece back his life in a way that he thinks it's supposed to be. Word Count: 2.5k+ Warnings: Obsessive behavior, underlying issues, panic attacks, divorce, OCD, I don’t know perhaps slight blood mention? Characters in Chapter: Arthur Kirkland[Britain], Francis Bonnefoy[France], Feliciano Vargas[North Italy], Lovino Vargas[South Italy], Elizabeta Héderváry[Hungary], Yao Wang[China], Roderich Edelstein[Austria]. Characters Mentioned: Matthias Nilsson[Denmark], Gilbert Beilschmidt[Prussia], Alfred Jones[USA], Peter Kirkland[Sealand], Toumas Nilsson[Finland], Kiku Honda[Japan] Ship/s Mentioned: AusHun[Elizabeta & Roderich]{Brief interaction} AU: !Corner Store AU! !Human AU!
I doubt I’m going to finish this story though haha. It was fun to write, and there was a third chapter planned to post[ perhaps I’ll post a bonus later or something], though Hetalia has been in the back of my mind with the creation of this blog. Don’t worry babsies [is that the plural form of babs?] Mod Ioten will post BSD stuff soon lol
Despite the disruption in peace yesterday, Arthur opened the store with a smile on his face. Francis followed shortly, clocking in while Arthur was eating his morning sandwich and drinking his first cup of tea of the day. “Bonjour mon ami!” Francis hummed, walking in from the back.
“Did Alfred get home okay?” Arthur couldn’t help but ask, blowing on his tea before taking a sip.
Francis’s eyes softened, and he looked down at the coffee in his hand. “Yes, he is alright. Merci Arthur for allowing him to wait here with his friends. I will have to call Matthias’s guardian to share my thanks as well.”
Arthur coughed a little bit, choking on his tea a bit. “I-It’s no big deal,” Arthur got out through coughs. “I would want someone to do the same for my own son if the same situation arose with him.”
The Frenchman looked up in surprise, “You have a little boy as well?”
Reaching into his wallet, he pulled out a small Christmas photo taken last year. “His name is Peter, Alfred acts quite a bit like him,” He chuckled, handing it to Francis.
“He’s a beautiful boy…” Francis mumbled, looking over the photo. “Is this your wife?” He asked, pointing at the woman who held her hair neatly in a partial ponytail.
Arthur looked away awkwardly, “Oh- uh. Yes. Peter is much closer to her than me.” He didn’t really want to discuss any more of it, so he attempted to change the subject. “Are you close with Alfred? He talks about you a lot.”
“He talks… about me?” Francis seemed shocked. A spark lit inside, and these eyes opened wider than before.
“Does he usually not?” Arthur questioned, setting down his tea.
“Alfred at home is much more… let’s say reserved at home. He doesn’t talk much nowadays.” Francis took a drink of his beverage, turning around to begin his shift.
Arthur leaned over the counter to look at Francis going to the other side of the store. “The fruit needs to be rearranged to make it look like there’s more than we actually have!”
He waved Arthur off, and the man relaxed a little bit. Finishing up his breakfast sandwich, Arthur got up to begin sweeping the floor. There were forty-five minutes before the store had to open up; Arthur could prepare it in twenty. Thinking back to yesterday, he took note that Francis was right in that the store had an odd sour smell to it. He would never admit it though, but the itchiness in his palm crept back into his mind. He tried to rub it against the broom handle, seeking some, any relief from the result of the new revelation. However, nothing seemed to help him. In Arthur’s frustration, he stomped over to the back room. Mumbling curses to himself, he grabbed a can of air freshener and started spraying around the store.
Francis watched in bewilderment at the scene, freezing while still holding an apple. “Mon ami I do not know if it is my place to speak on your…choices. But what are you doing spraying that can like a mad man?”
“The store smells bad” Arthur mumbled, turning to the direction of Francis, getting ready to spray.
“Hey hey hey! You will poison our produce!” Francis grabbed Arthur’s shoulders, turning him around. “What is wrong with you!”
Arthur scrunched up his face when the powerful waft of fresh linen hit his nostrils. He started coughing, crouching over. “We can open a little bit later if it helps you ca-”
“No!” Arthur yelled, shooting back up. “We-” He coughed a little bit more, “We can’t afford to open later than the morning rush!”
Although it made moderate sense to Francis and was a good enough reason for him to back off, Arthur knew that wasn’t the truth. It wouldn’t be normal for him to open up the store later than 6:30 in the morning. It wouldn’t be right. “To get rid of this…aroma, may I suggest we turn on our air?” Francis suggested, and Arthur begrudgingly agreed. Francis looked on in concern as Arthur sludged over to the thermostat, turning and twisting knobbles and bobs. He knew the signs of trouble when he saw it.
Though the owner and his employee found themselves in hot water in the morning, that didn’t stop Arthur from opening up at 6:30 AM. Sitting at the counter, he sipped at his tea waiting for the customers to roll in.
A few moments later, the sound of the bell that filled him with so much joy rang; and he was filled with the euphoria that rushed over him every time a body entered. As customers filed themselves in, each one took a look at their preferred groceries. A line began to form as the first batch of customers gathered their usual items, some chatting casually with each other as they waited for Arthur to check them out.
His first customers were a pair of twins that he knew very well. The Vargas brothers, one more comfortable in the public atmosphere than the other.
“Buongiorno signore Arthur!” Feliciano set down a bag of biscotti and a sewing kit. As he bounced and made small comments of the climate of the day, his brother bashfully brought a bag of tomatoes to the counter. The twins were students who used to babysit Peter before he went off to elementary, so Arthur knew them on a more personal level than the rest of his customers. “The weather has been unpredictable lately,” Feliciano whispered, rattling his hand on the counter.
“Indeed it has,” Arthur mused, weighing the bag of tomatoes and slapping a sticker noting that it was paid on the front. “If I’m correct it’s supposed to clear up by the end of the afternoon. It’ll be a nice change of pace from all of the rain we’ve been getting.” Arthur smiled to himself as he continued the routine he’s been doing for the past fifteen years. Checking out and conversation, what more could a man need?
“Really!” Feliciano gasped excitedly and grabbed his brother’s arm. “Lovi, we can play football together then!”
His brother, Lovino, looked at him angrily. “I told you not to call me that dumbass!” He said it in a whisper, though most people around the twins could hear their conversation. Lovino jerked his arm away from his brother, who still held the excited demeanor as before.
“Your total is 12.94,” Arthur gave a polite nod to the pair as they scrambled to get their money out. With random coins and a couple of bills, their groceries were paid with exact change. “Have a nice day you boys!”
“Say hi to Peter for me! Ciao!~” The two grabbed their respective items and walked out the door, Feliciano chatting to himself while Lovino took a bite out of one of the tomatoes he had bought.
As the two walked out, the same lady who had bought his gummy bear supply walked up to the counter. She didn’t hold anything in her hand, and there wasn’t anything on the countertop either. “Hello miss, can I help you with anything today?” Despite his polite form, Arthur’s hand began to itch at the prospect of something wrong with the customer’s visit.
The young lady ducked under the counter, and Arthur leaned to see what she was doing. She was snickering to herself, and placed down the box of gummy rolls that Gilbert had purchased yesterday. She was just about to pull out her money to pay for the rolls until someone called her name, causing her to turn around.
“Elizabeta! Can you pay for this too?”
A tall, awkward man emerged from the end of the line, walking slowly up to the girl. He seemed to be in poor health, heaving with every step he took; as if just being alive took a heavy toll on him. Elizabeta sighed, taking his energy drink and cheese stick and placing it down onto the counter. “Are you okay Roderich?” She asked, reaching her hand up to caress his face as Arthur scanned their items.
“I’m fine,” He sighed, batting Elizabeta’s hand away. “Thank you for paying.” Roderich leaned into her as she got her pocket money out.
“Are you a fan of these gummies?” Arthur asked as he was halfway through scanning the 34 rolls in the box.
Elizabeta laughed, “Oh no I’m not. I have a friend who is a big fan of them though. A couple bucks to see his face when he comes to school, finding out I bought all of his favorite candies, is worth it all the way.”
Arthur smiled to himself at the childish scheme. “Well, as long as I’m getting the money for the product,” he laughed along. “Would you like separate bags?”
Elizabeta and Roderich looked at each other before Roderich turned to Arthur, replying with a short no thank you. “Very well then,” Arthur smiled, carefully placing all of the gummy rolls around the boy’s Red Bull and cheese. When the exchange of money and product finished, Arthur waved goodbye to the pair. Roderich and Elizabeta turned around to say a quick goodbye. Arthur saw them lace their fingers together, and he smiled seeing them casually walkout.
The morning rush continued with familiar faces, casual acquaintances, and the same customers who would always come in the morning. Arthur felt good, despite the incidents in the morning and yesterday afternoon.
Time seemed to fly by as he and Francis guided people into making purchases, cleaning the store in the downtime, and checking out customers. Soon enough, Francis had to leave to pick up his son from school; and Arthur was left to his own thoughts.
His mind steeped into unhealthy territory. Every single detail of his life, every single constant he thought over as he drank his tea and ate his afternoon sandwich. He smiled as he reminded himself that nothing would be changing, that everything would and could not shift.
It couldn’t happen; he wouldn’t allow it.
He thought over the boys that he’d grown fond of. A shift, maybe, but a slightly more pleasant one than the changes he’s used to. But he had thought it over, saw where they would fit in his world that never changed.
They would come in every day, that's a plus. Always ordering the same items? Even better. Then he thought further. What would happen when he would retire? What would happen when the boys graduated? What would happen when the divorce went through, and he could only see his son for three days every week?
Arthur stopped moving when his teacup was six inches from his face. He sucked his breath in, and slowly set his cup down. He felt an itch creep up into his palm, worse than all of his other incidents. He couldn’t breathe. He had to get out of such a suffocating environment. As if he was in a daze, Arthur stood up and walked towards the door. Reaching towards the sign hanging on the inside of the door, he turned it so that the ‘open’ sign faced him. He finally allowed himself to let the air in his lungs flow out. He opened the door and walked through, turning around to lock it. He scratched his hand, walking through the streets of his familiar town with a thick haze surrounding his aura.
Arthur was wandering for a while. He didn’t know how far he’d walked until he found himself at the intersection which separated the stores from the roads leading to the major highway. Turning around, Arthur found himself at his rival’s grocery. Waddling in, he kept quiet. A bell sound, different from the one he had in his store rang. The smell was completely different too.
Why was he here? Arthur couldn’t answer the question himself. He had the afternoon rush to wait for after all. However, it was too late to turn back, he’d already entered the store and caught the attention of the clerk.
“Arthur Kirkland.” He turned to the side, seeing the Chinese man that tormented his business for the past 10 years. “Come to buy something different than European product?” Yao asked, folding his arms on the counter.
“I-I…” Arthur stuttered out, not able to come up with something suitable to say. With a cocky brow raise, Yao stood up and made his way over to the unusual guest.
“If you are looking for something we have it,” Yao said proudly. “You want bowl? Soap to brighten skin? I have Kiku cut pig blood for your cooking!”
“No thank you…” Arthur moved his arm in a shooing motion.
“You walk into my grocery and say you not need any,” Yao rolled his eyes, growing frustrated with the Brit. “Why are you even here?”
Arthur stood stiff, staring at the store, at the unfamiliarity of it all. Walking off, he wandered deeper into the aisles of foreign goods. Boxes of products he’s never seen, lines of items he wouldn’t dare to carry in his store; he leaned against a shelf for support. Faintly, he could hear Yao yell a little and then give up, walking back to his counter.
Suddenly, his whole body itched, and no matter how much he tried to relieve himself, the uncomfortable sensation never ceased. His nails dug into his skin as he scratched vigorously at his palms. In addition to his discomfort, he felt skin break and a stinging feeling begin to set in. He stumbled into the next aisle, scanning the items to try and find some sense of familiarity. Boxes of medicinal tea lined the shelves, and he was comforted somewhat by the leaves he used every morning. Then he found it.
He ran towards a box that held the black tea he drank every morning and held it as if it was gold. Shaking, he palmed his pants to see if he had his wallet. He felt a wave of relief when he felt the bump in his pocket.
Arthur walked over to the counter, presenting Yao with a hesitant smile. The man behind the counter looked at him through suspicious eyes, and took the credit card Arthur held out. “What bring you to my grocery today Mr. Kirkland?” A thick Chinese accent laced the man’s tone. Arthur found it funny that the long ponytail that Yao held his hair in swayed whenever he spoke.
“A-” Arthur found his throat to be unusually dry. “A change of pace is good sometimes.”
Yao didn’t reply, only humming as he handed back the card, giving Arthur his tea in a plastic bag.
Quickly, Arthur bid Yao goodbye and ran towards his own establishment. While the itchy feeling never went away, the dryness in his throat sure did with the enormous amount of tea he drank when he got back.
He almost forgot to turn the open sign back around before sitting down at the counter. Everything was okay, Arthur told himself. All he had to do was wait for the afternoon rush.
#hetabang#bringbackhetalia2020#hws england#hws britain#aph england#aph britain#hws america#aph america#hws france#aph france#hws italy#aph italy#hws romano#aph romano#aph china#hws china#aph austria#hws austria#aph hungary#hws hungary#aph prussia#hws prussia#aph denmark#hws denmark#tw divorce#tw ocd#tw panic attack#tw obsessive behavior#hetabang general#hws
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Okay Now Do The Rest
4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?
Bright but argumentative. I was never afraid of pointing out things I didn’t feel were fair hfhddh
When we were learning numbers kids would often write 91 for nineteen, just flip them, y’know, and Ms. Potter yelled at the class for it. Baby Generiq went into it about how it was an understandable mix up because you do say the number first. In twenty-three you write the two first, so in nineteen it’s easy to assume you would write the nine first.
6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?
Tired.
8. movies or tv shows?
TV shows. Every book adaptation should also be a series not a movie. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.
9. favorite smell in the summer?
Honeysuckle and sunshine
10. game you were best at in p.e.?
Floor hockey! My friend and I used to be brutal and swing at each other’s shins going after the ball. Also it was reminiscent of golf, which I competed in.
12. name of your favorite playlist?
I have an untitled playlist I cycle my current music in and out of, but Newton’s Third Law is my favorite named one!
14. favorite non-chocolate candy?
I don’t- I guess the yellow smarties. Don’t come for me they taste like lemonade.
15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?
I assume this means assigned book and not the reports we got to pick for ourselves. Ah, Night was good. Lord of the Flies was fine but way overhyped. Again, don’t come for me.
16. most comfortable position to sit in?
If I can tuck my legs into the chair I am sitting in that is ideal!
18. ideal weather?
When you know it is going to rain and you get to stay home
19. sleeping position? (Skipped on accident)
I reeeally like pressure, so either against something or on my stomach.
20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?
Phone notes and a notebook! Sometimes a blank document but I always find it strangely intimidating
21. obsession from childhood?
Warrior Cats, Percy Jackson, and Maximum Ride were my big three!
22. role model?
Aa I try to straw from people I want to copy, but there are talents I look up to. Rachel Chavkin is a brilliant director, and there are so many artists and authors I look up to and who inspire me.
24. favorite crystal?
Obsidian because it’s black like my hea- I’m kidding, I do love obsidian, but it’s Rose Quartz because it’s a very very pretty, soft pink and makes me happy.
25. first song you remember hearing?
The mobile above my crib played Imagine by John Lennon. My childhood room was themed after it as well!
26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?
Swim or sit in the sunshine. Ben and I usually go driving with the top down as well.
27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?
Walking through fresh snow is amazing, so are snowball fights and building snowmen.
28. five songs to describe you?
Oh fuck yes
Hurricane - Hamilton
The Reckless and the Brave - All Time Low
Almost There - The Princess and the Frog
All This and Heaven Too - Florence + the Machine
Facade - Jekyll and Hyde: A Gothic Musical Thriller
30. places that you find sacred?
I don’t typically find places sacred, but certain headspaces are very special to me, and time spent with loved ones means more than enough to be considered sacred.
31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?
A black blazer with a white button-down and a skirt.
32. top five favorite vines?
I am in Missouri (misery)
I love you, Bitch
I want a Church girl
Obama’s “I know because I won both of them”
I won’t hesitate, Bitch!
33. most used phrase in your phone?
“No worries”
34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?
That fucking PFI bandana boot sale I stg
35. average time you fall asleep?
Somewhere between 9:00 and three in the morning
36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?
Some girl doing bunny ears on her friend. I don’t remember what the caption was
38. lemonade or tea?
Both. Mixed together. It’s called an Arnold Palmer and it is my favorite drink
39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?
Lemon cake!
40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?
We duck taped out principal to the wall once. Also some kid broke their tray over another kid’s head at lunch one time.
41. last person you texted?
The family group chat, though Beau if Discord counts
42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?
I wear a lot of leggings so jacket pockets!
44. favorite scent for soap?
We had some Lily of the Valley hand soap that was amazing
45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?
Fantasy, I think! I’ve never done super heavy into the other two. Though I definitely don’t want to ignore sci-fi because two of my favorite stories are a little science-fiction-y
46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?
A t-shirt and shorts
48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?
A banana. Generally accepted as a fruit and kind of just rolls with it, but is actually a berry
49. what saying or quote do you live by?
I fucking hate Hamilton-ing on main, but
“And when my prayers to god were met with indifference, I picked up a pen, I wrote my own deliverance!”
50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?
That changes every time Beau and I play HetaOni together, but I have fucking lost it for at least five minutes the last two sessions.
51. current stresses?
I dunno, man, life? My hair could use a wash
52. favorite font?
Covered by your Grace and I’m a big Spectral baby. These are both google docs! I don’t know if that makes a difference.
54. what did you learn from your first job?
Patience is important when teaching material, but never be afraid to find another approach better suited to the person you’re tutoring.
55. favorite fairy tale?
Robin Hood!
56. favorite tradition?
My family does homemade Springfield cashew chicken for Christmas!
57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?
Uhh lots of self-acceptance shit no one really wants to read
58. four talents you’re proud of having?
I can pop the joint at the center of my foot
That’s all
60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?
I sort of like my role as mom friend, so maybe I could keep that role in a sort of action-based anime that followed a group of friends
61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?
“I am not the protégé to waste your time on; I'm complete!” Jekyll and Hyde: GMT
62. seven characters you relate to?
Haha
Lisa Carew - Jekyll and Hyde: GMT
Japan - Hetalia/Oni
Garnett - Steven Universe
Hfhddh that’s all I can say that aren’t my own characters
63. five songs that would play in your club?
I Don’t Like Clubs, but
Overwhelmed - Royal + The Serpent
Backseat Serenade - All Time Low
Go Big or Go Home - American Authors
The Nights - Avicii
Tempo - Lizzo
64. favorite website from your childhood?
Webkinz!
65. any permanent scars?
Yep - One from a bad bike wreck. My body rejected the dissolvable stitches so it’s a lot bigger than it was supposed to be
66. favorite flower(s)?
Lily of the Valley, daisies, Day Lilies, and Dandelions! I also love honeysuckles but I don’t know if those count.
68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?
Accidentally drank rancid milk once!
69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned? (Haha, nice)
The fastest, free way to fill up your potions on Wizard101 is to play Potion Motion to level three.
70. left or right handed?
Right handed
71. least favorite pattern?
On myself, animal print
72. worst subject?
I’ve never been intuitively good at History, I do think it’s interesting though.
74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?
I don’t like to take it until I can’t move without it.
75. when did you lose your first tooth?
Kindergarten? I had mono and then scarlet fever twice, so my baby teeth were pretty much ruined and they all fell out very fast.
76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?
Curly fries!
77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?
Kalanchoe’s, it literally Window’s Thrill. These babies are fairly temperamental outside and love partial sun, so the window is the perfect spot for them. And! If you keep them happy! They’ll bloom! My personal favorite is the pink bloom.
78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?
What’s wrong with coffee from a gas station? Also I don’t like seafood.
80. earth tones or jewel tones?
Earth tones!
81. fireflies or lightning bugs?
Lightning bugs
82. pc or console?
PC!
84. podcasts or talk radio?
Podcasts - talk radios actually tend to get under my skin for n o reason
84. barbie or polly pocket?
Barbie, but let it be known I was brutal with mine. We did human sacrifices and the like.
85. fairy tales or mythology?
Mythology!
86. cookies or cupcakes?
Cookies, but I’m a slut for whipped frosting
87. your greatest fear?
Losing control!
88. your greatest wish?
A life beyond where I am now. Haha Stop chasing new down the hallway you’re so sexy haha
90. luckiest mistake?
Logged into Omegle in like 2015 and some rando asked me to join their Doctor Who roleplay. Luckiest moment of my gd life.
91. boxes or bags?
Bags! They’re easier to store
92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?
Sunlight! But in the late afternoon when everything is bathed in orange.
93. nicknames?
Mom is the most prevalent!
94. favorite season?
Fall into winter. Peak leaf crunch!
95. favorite app on your phone?
Discord or Notes
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Generation 4 Part 6
We go to the Dining room & are seated. Menu consists of: Stuffed lamb breast with lemon, ricotta, & oregano variety of cheese, Selection of Bread & Cracker, Jams, chutneys, spicy mustards, caramelized onions, candied nuts & pistachios, Rich flourless chocolate cake with a glass of sweet port wine, Small pieces of chocolate & Brandy. Father says Prayers: My God in Heaven. Please Bless this meal & Bless our Family with Your Grace. We thank You my God for all that you've provided & for the Miracle of those two tiny new lives that You so Graciously Blessed us with. Thank You my God, in the Name of our Lord & Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen! 8:30pm we finish dinner & retire to the Drawing room for Coffee & Brandy! Sodas for the kids & Juice for Mary & Lucy. The Doctor recommended that Lucy attempt to Breastfeed again, so she too has decided to refrain from alcohol! The room is filled with Christmas Music! Mother says: ~Family, it's time to realize "The Reason for the Season"! We have a lot to be grateful for! It's time we start acting like it~ She begins to sing along with the music! We too begin to sing & the mood in the room becomes festive! We've hired a nurse to help with the babies, as to give a little bit of a break to our wives. Mary has pumped extra Breast Milk into bottles. Lucy has Formula for Anabel until she takes hold! It's now 12:45am & we've been enjoying ourselves so much, that we didn't realize how late it is! We decide to call it a night & go to our rooms. Mother was right! Tis the Season for Joy! God Bless us everyone!
I pick up my son & hold him, & pray a prayer of thanks to God! I turn to Mary, who's ready to feed him before we sleep & say: ~Darling, thank you for being the best wife a man could ever be Blessed with! I love you Mary Grace Newport!
She replies: ~'O my sweet Harry, no woman could ever hope to be Blessed with a husband as loving, generous, thoughtful & sweet a man as you! My love, you have never disappointed me in anything you've ever done. Now we're Blessed with another child. I feel my life is only getting better. You Harry, are my life!~ She has always made my every day & night! I thank God for allowing her into my life! She feeds little Harry, burps & changes him. Places him in his Bassinet, careful to lay him on his back. He falls asleep immediately. Such a good baby! We climb into bed & she falls asleep in my arms. I'm tired, Goodnight!
Skipping forward:
Sunday December 22 Little Harry's & Anabel's Christening
8:00am & the whole Family is enroute to Church. Today we'll be dedicating little Harry & Anabel to Christianity. It's 8:45am & we arrive. We enter the Church & the Family are seated. Mary, Myself, Lucy, George & both Babies are escorted to the front of the Church where when called, we'll bring the Babies forward! 9:00am service begins. After the Choir sings the opening hymns, Pastor Reverend Johnson calls the names of "Harold Joseph Newport Jr." & Annabel Josephine Richards" to the Altar. Mary holds little Harry in her arms & I stand by her side. The Pastor Asks: ~Who will be the Godparents?~ George & Lucy Step forward! Pastor Johnson recites: ~Harold Joseph Newport Jr., In the Name of the Father & of the Son & of the Holy Spirit! He then pours water over his forehead three times. He wipes dry little Harry's forehead.
Pastor Johnson says: ~Who will be the Godparents?~ Mary & myself step forward! Pastor Johnson recites: ~Annabel Josephine Richards, In the Name of the Father & of the Son & of the Holy Spirit! He pours water over her forehead three times. He wipes dry Annabel's forehead & Congratulates us! He invites the Congregation to take photographs! We're seated & service It's 10:30am & service is over. We're enroute back to Newport Mansion. 10:45am, we're arrive at the Mansion. We take the babies upstairs. The Family retire to their rooms to get ready for lunch. It's 12:00pm & Huntington rings: ~Lunch is being served in the Dining room!~ We go into the Dining room & are seated. Linguini, White Winter Truffles, Aged Parmesan is on the menu! The meal is delicious. 1:15pm we finish lunch & retire to the Drawing room for drinks & conversation! 2:15pm My wife & I are having a Date night. We're going to dinner & a movie! She wants to see "Jumanji, The Next Level". Showtime is 8:15pm at the Woodard. We go upstairs where she will feed little Harry. We'll nap a little before leaving!
It's 5:00pm & we're enroute to Grumpy's Diner on Main! There are no Fancy restaurants in Madison, but we do enjoy a good Burger & Grumpy's has great Burgers! We've arrived at the Diner at 5:45pm. We're seated & read the menu. I order the Steak & Tarter Special Combo with Lemonade. Mary orders the Burger Bowl Combo with Sprite. We finish eating & leave a tip. It's 7:40pm & we're enroute to the Woodard so we can get a good seat. It's 8:00pm & we park, buy the tickets & enter the Cinema. We're seated in the fourth row from the front. The previews are already showing, so I take time to by Popcorn, BomBoms & Soda! 8:15pm the move starts running. 10:20pm, the movie has ended. It was a great movie, starring Dwayne Johnson, Kevin Hart, & Karen Guillan. It was funny, exciting, mind boggling, test of skills & scary all in one game! We both enjoyed it! 10:30pm we're walking out the doors & getting in the car. Enroute to The Waffle House on Bandit st for Coffee. 10:45pm we pull into the Parking lot & enter the restaurant. We wait to be seated just a few minutes. We order coffee, decaf for Mary! We tip the Waitress & leave the restaurant, its Midnight. Were enroute to Newport Mansion. It's 12:30am & we've arrived at the Mansion. We go upstairs & get ready for bed. Mary has that look in her eyes. She winks & smiles, holding the covers up for me. I know what that means & I'm eager. It's been a while & long enough. Goodnight!
Tuesday, December 24
It's 8:00am & Huntington rings: ~Breakfast is being served in the Dining room!~ We go into the Dining room & are seated! Menu for the Morning consists of: Waffles with flax & almond butter, scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, a fruit salad & protein shake, juice, coffee! 9:30am, we finish eating & retire to the Drawing room to discuss tonight's festivities! Mother has planned a Christmas party for friends & family! The party will be in the Grand Ballroom! She's been known to have the most entertaining parties in two hundred miles of Madison.
Christmas Eve
It's 5:00pm, I'm putting on my Tux, while Mary nurses little Harry! I can't help but to think about those we've lost! But I know God has a plan for all of us. JR has another week before we've got to get him back to the Academy. We're lucky to be able to have him for the Holidays & his Birthday! He'll be sixteen on New Year's eve. My God, where's the time gone! It seems like yesterday I was holding him in my arms. Tomorrow morning is Christmas & the anniversary of the first day I met Mary, the day I began to live again!
It's 6:00pm & we're in the Drawing room discussing the music for tonight, Mother of course has the last say!
We're expecting Governor Ron DeSantis to attend, as well as other Dignitaries she's friendly with! Busy day ahead...........
7:00pm
Governor DeSantis arrives & my parents greet him immediately! Other guests are arriving, to include; Mayor Jim Catron & his wife, Chief of Police Reggie Alexander & his wife, & friends of the family totaling over 150 guests!
Huntington escorts each of the Guests to the Grand Ballroom where food & drinks are being served.
The tables each are marked with the guest's name on a card. Christmas music is playing. The wait staff are offering hors d’oeuvres & Champagne.
The menu consists of: Goose, apple sauce, ham, bread stuffing, crawfish cornbread stuffing, sweet potato casserole, mashed potatoes, green beans, broccoli, ambrosia, a cranberry mold, goose gravy, a relish tray with green onions, watermelon pickles & olives, Russian caviar, pumpkin, pecan, apple & cherry pies. A crisp white wine, eggnog, syllabub, & sweet potato punch! More Champagne! We have Non-Alcoholic Champagne for Mary, Lucy & the kids!
My wife looks stunning in her new Red Christmas Gown.
George, I've never seen him decked out before. He looks like he belongs in that Tux. Lucy's wearing a Bluish colored Evening Dress, slitted in the arms & down the left leg; also looking quite Beautiful. The kids look like a Prince & his Princess! The whole family, I must say are showing their Best. Mother looks quite pleased with herself!
This will be a party to remember, I only wish Rachael could have been here! The babies are upstairs with the nurse. They're bringing more hors d’oeuvres & Champagne around.
My Father's dancing with Mother, to Tony Bennett's Christmas Waltz. It's my Mother's favorite. I better get my wife out on the Dance floor, before someone else does, I'm somewhat stingy!
The Governor & his wife Casey seem to be enjoying themselves! They've been on the Dance floor over two hours already! The Ballroom is alive tonight & Happiness is it's heart! My Brothers don't seem to have a problem finding someone to dance with, I wish they'd settle down & have a Family. Sis & Bill are dancing the night away! Santa is expected to arrive at 12:01am!
12:01 2019 Christmas
The music starts playing: "The Santa Claus Rock" by INFANTIL! Everyone's rocking with the music as Santa enters the room! The music stops, Santa grabs his Bag & begins to pass gifts out to the Family & friends! He calls out each name, without hesitation or looking at a note. He just hands the gifts out as if he knew what was in them! Everyone seemed surprised but pleased with the gift they received.
I ask JR: What did you get Son?~ He replies: ~The Nutcracker Soldier, I've been wanting it ever since I can remember! Only my Mother knew, she promised to get it for me for Christmas, the year she died!~ I ask: ~What's the card say?~ He replies: ~ From Mommy with Love! Dad, I never told anyone!~ We both left it like that! I received the Gold ring I lost some years ago off my Boat. I had dropped it in the water, never to be seen again; so I thought! It's inscribed with the words: Dolphins Bring You Luck" dated 2004. These were words Julia said on my Boat when I took her to see the Dolphins, the year we first started dating! She had given it to me for Valentine's day! The card read: Love never dies Harry, be Happy! anta leaves as fast as he arrived, with a HO HO HO, Merry Christmas to all, & to all a Goodnight! I followed him out, but strangely, he just disappeared, poof he was gone! I really wanted to congratulate him on how good he was & ask him how he knew! Mother says: ~Son, that wasn't our Santa, your Father was suppose to play the part! We have no idea who he was, where he came from or disappeared too!~ Kind of got everyone thinking....... The last song is playing: "I'm dreaming of a White Christmas" by Bing Crosby! I take Mary out to the floor & dance the last dance with her, cheek to cheek! It's 2:00am & everyone's left. I & Mary say Goodnight & we go upstairs & get ready for bed! I didn't tell Mary about JR's gift, nor mine; but it was weighing on my mind! Even in Death she was able to keep her promise to our son & assure he got his Christmas present as well as; to send me a message! God is good! Merry Christmas to you all from the Newport Family & Goodnight!
Skipping forward:
Tuesday, December 31, 2019
Happy Birthday John Ross/New Years Eve
It's 6:00am & my wife is feeding little Harry. We're drinking coffee in the room, Decaf for Mary. When finished, we'll go downstairs for Breakfast. Eggs Benedict, Toast, English Butter, Jelly, fruit, & juice is on the menu this morning.
We got to get things together for today. Its JR's Birthday & we want it to be a special! Mother has planned a big party for him, lots of guest!
The cake will be delivered some time today!Kellyanne has asked if I would take her & her Dad to the Mall, so she can buy him something special for JR! Tonight Mother will be putting on her Annual New Year Fireworks display!
7:00am, Huntington rings: ~Breakfast is being served in the Dining room ~ We go downstairs, to the Dining room & are seated! It's 8:30pm & we're finished eating. Myself, George & Kellyanne get in Father's car & proceed to the Valdosta Mall just over the State line. She wants to go to Jared's. It's 9:45pm & we're pulling into the Mall's parking lot. It opens in fifteen minutes. That's good, no rush. 10:00am sharp & they open the entrance, we head for Jared's.....
Kellyanne finds a ring she says is perfect! It's a Black Diamond ring 1/2ct tw 10k Gold running about $1300.00! I have to say she has impeccable taste. Not feminine looking, yet beautiful. JR will love it. She has them inscribe the words: Love is forever! I can't help to notice how much Kellyanne is like Julia the way she thinks! No wonder JR loves her so much!
It's 12:30pm & we are enroute to Madison. We stop at Dairy Queen for lunch. Its 1:00pm. 1:45pm & were on the way back to the Mansion. 2:10pm we arrive. Mother is outside supervising the setup for the party & Fireworks tonight. I go upstairs & my wife is talking a nap. I kiss her on the forehead, careful not to wake her, check on the baby & go back downstairs to have a beer & help wherever I can!
It's 3:30pm & the cake is delivered. The stage for the Band has just been finished.
Mother has hired The Frequency Band for tonight. Mother is a perfectionist, everything must be right. She's hire fifty extra staff for the Party, she loves JR. He was her first Grandchild!
Dinner will be finger sandwiches & hors d’oeuvres, as well as cake & ice cream; served during the party! Dress is casual.......
t's 5:30pm, the band has arrived & setting up! Though not like when he was a child, this party will still be big.......
6:00pm, the guests are arriving & the band is already playing music. They're quite good actually, from LA is what I hear!
7:00pm & the party is in full swing. Kids & adults alike are dancing. They're playing all the latest favorites. Drinks are being served but Alcohol is in one tent under the control of Huntington. Soda & Fruit Punch in another, self serve! There's Sweet Tea for the asking.....
8:00pm, the band starts playing Happy Birthday to John Ross, & a table is rolled out with a cake!
Two candles in the shape of the number sixteen, on top of a Beautiful Black Cake. JR makes a wish, blows out the candles, takes a knife & cuts the first piece.
Kellyanne hands her gift first. The ring & a kiss! She says: ~John Ross, take this ring as a symbol of my everlasting love for you. Happy Birthday John Ross, may you have many more!~ He slipped the ring on his finger & kissed her. He says: ~Kellyanne, I'll never take it off for as long as I live!~
He begins to open the many gifts from everyone here.
Mary bought him a Beautiful Compass inscribed: "To my son: Wherever your journey in life may take you, I pray you'll always be safe.
ENJOY THE RIDE & NEVER FORGET YOUR WAY HOME. I'm Always Here For You; Mom"! The compass is made of Gold in a Sailor's pocket watch casing. Quite elegant, I could see him trying to hold back tears!
I got him a Man's music box with my recorded words to him: "To my son: SOMETIMES IT'S HARD TO FIND WORDS TO TELL YOU HOW MUCH YOU MEAN TO ME. IF I HAD TO CHOOSE BETWEEN Loving you & breathing I WOULD USE MY LAST BREATH TO SAY ~I LOVE YOU~ I WILL ALWAYS BE THERE TO LOVE YOU, I WILL ALWAYS BE THERE TO SUPPORT YOU. You will always be my baby boy. ~Love Dad~"
My Parents got him a Pocket watch with the inscription: "To my Grandson: Never forget that I Love you. I hope you believe in yourself as much as I do.
George & Lucy gave him a Gold wristwatch.My Brothers gave him a check for a thousand dollars. My Sister & Bill gave him an authentic Navy 1860 Officers Cutlass with His name on it, inscribed: "With His Swift & Terrible Sword "
It's 11:00pm. JR received well over two hundred gifts. He will have to leave some of them behind when he returns to the Academy on Thursday!
11:59pm & were getting ready to countdown to the New Year. Were counting down from 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 & the Fireworks display goes off as the band plays "Auld Lang Syne" The new Year's Anthem! I take my wife in my arms , kiss her, really kiss her & tell her : ~I love you Mary!~ She replies back: ~I love you my Harry!~ Everyone is kissing, singing & wishing all well! It's now 1:00am & the Fireworks Display is over. The band has played it's last set & everyone's leaving! Everything went well & we all had a great time. It's New Year's day & JR goes back to school tomorrow. We will be going home too! It's been a great vacation except for losing Rachael!
We say Goodnight & go upstairs. We're tired, The baby senses we're here. Mary nurses him before we lay down. She lays little Harry down, we lay down & fall asleep in each other's arms!Wednesday, January 1, 20206:00am, I've decided to let Mary get some rest after a long night. I change little Harry, feed him with stored Breast milk in a bottle, burp & play with him a little while! This brings memories back of when JR was a newborn! He fell asleep in my arms, I lay him on his back in the Bassinet! It 8:00am, I wake Mary up to see if she's hungry. She wants to sleep another hour,I go downstairs & Brunch is being served. I ask Huntington to assure that Mary has something to eat when she wakes up. I sit down & eat, it's only myself, my parents & Mary's parents! Seems like everyone else decided to sleep in..... I say Good morning & they reply almost simultaneously: ~Good morning Harry!~ Mother asks: ~Sleep well son?~ I reply: Yes Mother, I did; Thank you! She says: ~How's Mary & the Baby, is Harry Jr sleeping through the night?~ I reply: ~Yes Mother, he is & Mary's sleeping in another hour!~ She replies: ~Good, a new Mother need as much rest as she can get!~ Mary's Mother adds: ~Yes they do! Harry, you're a good man, our daughter loves you very much & so do we! We feel Blessed having you part of the Family & you to John Ross!~ I reply: ~She is my Blessing Laura, she & my children are my life. I'm more than proud to be part of the Family & I love you two as well!~
8:30am, JR sits down at the table, followed by Kellyanne! They both say Good morning & sit down at the table. JR remarks: ~I'm starving!~9:15am Breakfast is over. Huntington has told Cook to hold Breakfast for an hour in case the rest of the Family is hungry! I go back upstairs & check on Mary. I find she's up & the baby seems to be hungry again. She's nursing him! I call downstairs to the kitchen & have them send Mary's Breakfast up to the room!...... We've got to pack & get ready for our trip home. JR's flight takes off for Valley International at 5:30am & the rest of us are scheduled to take off for Miami International at 7:15am! My wife finishes nursing little Harry, I take & burp him so she can eat! She says: ~Lord, I can really use a strong cup of regular coffee! But our son is more important! But just as soon as he stops nursing, I'm going to nurse on a whole pot of Community!~ She laughs, but she's more serious than she let's on..... I'm having fun with little Harry! He sure does smile allot, but Mary says it's gas! I think he smiles because he's a Happy baby! I put our son in his Bassinet because he's fallen asleep! I sit next to my wife & say: ~Mary Grace Newport, I love you! You married me & gave me life. You took my son as your own & raised him! Now you've given me another son! You have been & are my life. I'm truly Blessed! Thank you Mary, I only hope I tell you enough!~ She replies: ~Harry, you tell & show me every day! It fills my heart with joy & happiness everytime I hear your words. I love you Harry, with every essence of my being! I live for you Harry, you're my heart & soul!~ We embrace & kiss for more than a few minutes! We go ahead & pack up everything we can for now. We have laundry that has to be brought up to the room later!
Were just going to hangout with the Family today, we're going to miss them all very much! JR & I will visit the Cemetery this afternoon, so he can see Julia's & his Grandparents graves one more time before he goes back to Texas! He wants to plant flowers on the graves........ I think he wants to tell Julia thank you for his gift. I know that sounds strange but so do I, there's no other explanation!We go downstairs & everyone is congregating in the Game room. Mother has declared this day, "Family Day"! She says: ~We see far too little of each other, & I think it nice if we spend the day enjoying each other's company!~...... She has Finger sandwiches, Olives, Dill pickles, Cheeses, Sweets & Drinks set up on a table. We'll not have to stop for lunch, yet we can eat as we wish! I & George immediately challenge my Brothers to a game of Eight ball! I'm quite good at this, though it's been a while..... Father is acting as Barkeep! My Sister & our wives are Bowling on the indoor alley! Mary's parents & Mother are playing cards! JR & Kellyanne are playing Table Soccer!......... it's 4:30pm & as promised, I borrow Father's car: I & JR are enroute to Newport Cemetery to place flowers on Julia's & her Parent's graves. We'll place them on my Grandparents grave as well! It's 5:30pm & already getting dark. We leave the Cemetery enroute back to the Mansion. It's 5:55pm & as we're walking in the doors, Huntington rings: ~Dinner is being served in the Dining room!~ We all have our last Dinner as a Family! It's 7:30pm & Dinner is over. We retire to the Drawing room & share a little more time together. We plan next Christmas vacation together. It's 9:00 & we say our Goodbyes to my siblings. Mine & Mary's Parents will be up to say Goodbye in the morning. The Chauffeur will drive us to the Airport, theirs eight of us with the Babies & Father's Car won't have enough room. We say Goodnight & go upstairs so we can be fresh in the morning. Mary nurses little Harry while I take my shower! After; I take, burp & play with him while Mary takes a shower! I see him smiling more & more, warming my heart with everyone! He falls asleep in my arms & I lay him down on his back! I didn't know that SIDS was a growing threat in the USA & laying a baby on their stomach or side was the leading cause! Mary taught me that! She's a very cautious Mom & I thank the Good Lord for it! We lay down & I say: ~Mary Grace Newport, I love you!~ She replies: ~Harry Joseph Newport, you are my whole life &I Love you!~ We fall asleep in love!
Thursday January 2, 2020
It's 2:30am & we get up. Mary nurses the Baby while I wash up, brush my teeth & shave. I call for Huntington: ~Please take our bags down to the Limousine. Mary finishes feeding the little Harry, I take & burp him while my wife washes up & gets dressed. We go downstairs & meet up in the Dining room. Mother has arranged for an early Breakfast so we don't leave hungry! It's 3:30am & we say our Goodbyes. Mary & her Mother are crying & Mother is doing her best to hold tears back. They kiss, hug & kiss us all again as we walk out the doors! Father walks us out while the others stand on the stairs! He says: ~Harry, I love you kids, please have a safe trip. John Ross, you too, make sure you make next year son! Bye you all & take care of our Grandkids, I'm talking to you too. You're family too now! George replies: ~aye Mr Newport Sir!~
I tell my Father,: ~I love you Father, we'll call you as soon as we land! Bye now!~ It's 4:00am & were enroute to the Airport. Its 4:35am, we arrive at Valdosta Regional & the Baggage Valet loads our baggage onto a cart. JR checks in & the kids say their final Goodbye. Kellyanne is crying & makes JR promise to write every day! He hugs me & tells me that he loves me. He hugs & kisses Mary Goodbye & tells her he loves her. She's crying again! He kisses his little Brother & Anabel, he's only got so long until Boarding, so he has to get through Security! Its 5:30am & his flight takes off on time!
JR has one more year until he Graduates in June 2021. He's already been accepted & will enter Annapolis Naval Academy in January of 2021 He'll attend four years thereafter; he'll be Commissioned a 2nd Lieutenant & serve a minimum of five years in the Marine corps! That boy has made us proud!
It's 6:15am & we're allowed to check in. We walk through Security & to the Boarding gate where we'll wait until allowed to board.. 6:30am & we're boarding the plane. It's 7:00am & our flight takes off on time! Its 11:20am & were on approach to Miami. Suddenly; we start climbing & are ordered to stay seated & buckled. We have a landing gear stuck & are circling the Airport! There's some panic, but all in all; most stay calm! We circle for twenty minutes & it begins to look like we're going to have to land without the the front Landing gear! Now I begin to worry a little! But I look at Mary & she says: ~It'll be fine Harry, God has us covered~ Suddenly; the front Landing gear comes down. Relief is felt all over the plane, people begin to cheer & clap! Mary turns to me, smiles & says: ~See Harry God is watching over us!~ I remember calling my wife an Angel sent by God, now I'm sure of it! She didn't worry at all, she knew we'd be ok! We're on approach again. We land & it's 11:50am. Late but safe! God is Great!!!! We get through Security, get our Bags from the Carousel & have our wives & Babies sit down & rest. George & I walk across to the Parking Garage & pick up my car. We drive around to the loading zone & help Mary, Lucy & Kellyanne into the back seat with the Babies. George & I load our bags & we're enroute home! I'm going to miss everyone but I'm so happy to be home! It's 1:00pm & we drop George & his Family off, they're looking tired & happy to be too! Kellyanne is still sad but she'll get over it! We're enroute to our house. It's 1:20pm & Home sweet Home! I help Mary into the house & come back for the bags. Mary takes our son into the Nursery & says: ~My sweet little child, welcome home Baby Harry!~ She lays him down in his crib & sings a Lullaby: The song is called "Sweet Dreams ". I've never heard it but it's quite beautiful! Mary is a wonderful Mother. I go in the kitchen & prepare lunch, as they don't serve food on flights anymore! Simple Ham & Cheese, Dill pickles, Lays lightly salted chips, Sweet tea! We sit, eat lunch & talk about all that's happened. We finish & she says: ~Harry my Love, I'm going to lay down & take a nap; I'm just feeling so tired!~ I reply: ~Darling, sleep well, you need to rest!~ I go into the Library & check my messages. I need to start the "Willow" back up after Vacation! Looks like I have a scheduled trip on Monday, January 6! I give George a heads up, grab a cold one & relax! It's 4:00pm & I think I'm going to cook dinner for Mary. She'll be awake soon & hungry, she has enough to do just taking care of the baby! I prepare Baked Chicken, Macaroni & cheese, Garlic Bread & I'll wait to see what she wants to drink!It's 5:00pm & Mary comes down. She's pleasantly surprised. We sit down to dinner & enjoy each other's company. We finish up & retire to the Living room. We sit on the Loveseat, listen to music & just cuddle. She has Baby monitors set up everywhere in case he wakes up..... He sleeps until 8:00pm, Mary says to me: ~I'll be back my love, let me nurse him, he's hungry! She goes up, feeds him & is back in my arms within twenty minutes! I love my wife & enjoy spending time with her. I am a CUDDLER! I love cuddling & showing her how much I love her! It's 11:00pm & she asks: ~How about a snack?~ I reply: ~Sounds great Darling~ She goes in the kitchen, goes in the pulls out two thinly cut steak out of the freezer & chops them up with onions & Bell peppers. She grabs four eggs & shredded cheese out of the refrigerator. She's making steak & cheese omelets! That's my favorite omelet, she knows me so well! We sit down & eat. We finish, I handle the little cleanup there is. She goes up & nurses the Baby. I'm done & I follow her to find her waiting for me, under the covers. She says: ~Come on Big boy, I need you!~ She smiles, winks & exposes her naked body! Goodnight all!
Duke Sherman
To Be Continued
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5 per commander THIS BE A LONG POST BOI LET’S GO
Pops:
Only somewhat decent with math. He didn’t really get an education and instead learned on the go by book. Most of his math related knowledge revolves around ship related things as he was already on a pirate crew at a young age.
NEVER. FORGETS. A NAME. How he does this no one knows, but he ALWAYS can put a name to a face, even after only meeting them once.
He can sing pretty well, and because of his larger than life lung capacity he can sing for quite a while without having to take a breath.
Whitebeard isn’t against female pirates, but the courtesies from when he was younger, like “open a door for a lady” and “offer to take a ladies coat for her” are so ingrained in his mind that he prefers they stay out of the line of fire and protect them. Of course this doesn’t apply to every woman on the ship as they are capable fighters and he wouldn’t hold them back against their will.
Loves picking up and holding his children. If someone needs attention or is having a rough time he will pick them up and hold them close; Unless they’re too large in which case he’ll just hug them.
Marco:
Has made a bird joke about himself once and regrets it. Thatch will never let him live it down.
Whenever someone yells his name to get his attention there’s at least 5 people who yell out “polo” in response at all times.
Actually somewhat nearsighted and needs glasses but refuses to wear them.
When the crew was smaller he used to turn into his bird form and sleep on Pop’s shoulder. Now he won’t unless they’re in private.
He has a bad leg. Despite his healing abilities his right leg tends to ache after fights.
His neck acts the same in human form as it does in bird form when he’s not paying attention and coffee deprived. It’s kind of both hilarious AND unsettling.
Ace:
There’s a billboard in the dining hall to remind people to catch Ace before he face plants in his food during a narcoleptic episode. Do people listen to it? No, but it’s there.
Was shipwright enemy #1 during the 100 days of trying to kill Pops. It’s still joked about to this day.
Can actually fly with his fire but hasn’t trained with it enough for it to be viable.
He can control fire, but only to a certain extent. If there’s a cart on fire he can try and drag it to him, but a forest fire or a large house is impossible. His own fire can be put out easily by his will, but non-devil fruit related fires has a will of their own.
Had never seen a horse before and Haruta took advantage of that fact, convincing him they didn’t exist. Naturally, when he first saw one he freaked out and legit thought they were some mythical or extinct creature.
Jozu:
Loves hard candies because of the baffled and horrified expressions everyone gives him as he cracks through 3 jawbreakers like it’s nothing a la diamond teeth.
He’s well known for throwing himself over his family to protect them. In cases were the Moby is taking canon fire suddenly and there’s people too close to the railing he wont hesitant to yank them out of the way and turn himself into diamond to protect them.
When scared or startled he will freeze up like a deer in headlights. It would be funny if his fight or flight instinct didn’t kick in seconds later and now there’s a human shaped hole in the wall.
Wears tank tops and jeans on a daily basis. That armour is stuffy and you think he wears it 24/7? Hell no.
Nervous eater.
Thatch:
Has like 40 recipe books and knows which one has what recipe he wants.
His memory isn’t as impressive as Pops, but he KNOWS when he recognizes a face, even when he has no idea what their name is.
Keeps track of what you like and dislike religiously.
How did he get that scar? Who knows! It’s a different story each time
He just wants everyone to be happy and feel loved, which has led to him earning many scars both physically and emotionally.
Vista:
Sings in the shower 100%
GREAT during parties on islands! Not only does he have plenty of tricks to show but he can mix a damn good drink as well.
Would 100% be that one kid in drama club that takes things too far.
Scarily good actor and it’s a good thing he’s naturally honest. If he were to lie in your face you wouldn’t know unless he told you.
If you hear “Do you want to hear a story?” prepare for a roller coaster of emotions.
Blamenco:
WILL GIVE YOU THE BIGGEST HUG IN ALL THE LAND
Soft boi
His weight fluctuates with how much is in his pockets. If he’s near empty he’s much thinner and muscular looking, but carrying a lot and he has his signature lorge friend shape.
Can’t hold a living creature in his pockets for too long without it feeling too weird.
Doesn’t hold items for Haruta and Thatch all too often due to unknowingly hiding weapons of war (aka prank items)
Not a hoarder despite what one may think upon seeing his devil fruit
Rakuyo:
Macey is a demonic chain chomp and you can’t say otherwise.
He’s constantly added more details and layers to his outfits. He’s not into fashion, but he definitely has an eye for it.
Takes the quickest showers out of anyone
Has daggers under his clothes. Never unarmed.
Room is tediously cleaned except when he’s having a fit. You can always tell his mental state by the state of his room.
Namur:
Never hated humans like some fishman, but was very wary of them before meeting Pops.
His division has other fishman in it, but they mainly stay in the water and are rarely seen on the ship.
Any jokes about cannibalism because of the ‘fish’ side of fishman will result in a retort about him maybe being a cannibal of the ‘man’ side. He’s scared newbies half to death with this.
His room has been mistaken as a bathroom as he doesn’t have a bed or bathroom but instead a shallow pool with shells and coral from the sea.
Has fought to the death with other fishman to protect his family and has seen his family fight to the death with other humans for him. He’s not proud of it and hates how things get that far.
Blenheim:
Carries family around on his shoulders often because he can.
When he has a task he hyper focuses on it, even if it means he pulls an all nighter to finish.
Loves obstacle courses and if it weren’t for his immense size would probably complete Wipe Out or American Ninja Warrior in record time.
Is very indecisive about things outside of work. Knows EXACTLY what parts be needs to keep the ship going but has NO idea what the hell he wants for lunch.
May seem intimidating but is very much a teddy bear on the inside
Curiel:
“WHATEVER YOU DO DON’T FILL A SUPER BIG GULP CUP WITH FIVE HOUR ENERGY AND CHUG THE WHOLE THING”
Has a manic episode at least 3 times a week.
Colour blind. His goggles are tinted red because of a formula that allows him to see colour. They’re also a hybrid of eye protection and glasses.
Is covered in scars from both childhood and projects gone wrong, mainly on his back and legs.
Has invented a duck-themed weapon just so he can yell “DUCK” and it actually be a duck. A duck that is a bomb, that is.
Kingdew:
Has an AMAZING singing voice and can play the guitar. When the crew has parties he’s always nominated to play.
Has written songs before but is too shy to share them. Thatch stole one of his song sheets before and ended up in the nurse's room after a thorough asswhooping.
Soft boi x2
Is farsighted and needs glasses to read small print, but he doesn’t need them outside of that.
The rings that seemingly bolt his cape to his shoulders are actually there for medical reason.
Haruta:
Partially blind. Their eye colour isn’t like that for no reason. They aren’t fully blind however, and can still see distinct features, silhouettes, and some very watered down colour.
Because of their partial blindness Haruta actually has some of the strongest haki out of the whitebeard crew as they use it to navigate around. Started haki training under Marco and Izou and it grew very strong as they developed.
Learned their double sword technique from Vista, who is also their closest brother.
A complete lil shit. An absolute gremlin. 100% a memelord.
Has a hoard of assorted doo-dads. They have bags full of stuff that seemingly has no purpose, but they have it. Also has a very extensive bottle cap collection!
Atmos:
The jolly green giant.
Loves partying and drinking and likes to live in the moment.
Need a hug? Go to Atmos, he’ll hug you and let you cry it out while telling you some nice stories.
“MY HELMET IS STUCK” “Maybe you shouldn’t CHARGE LIKE AND ACTUAL BULL then”
Braids his beard when nervous.
Jiru:
Dyslexic. He was trying to fix this before he met Pops as he truly did want to be a doctor, but couldn’t because of his condition. When he met Pops, however, he not only gave him a chance, but assisted him in overcoming it.
Since his division is 85% nurses he knows ALL the ship gossip and rumors. And he WILL use it against you if you refuse treatment.
Goes stir crazy when not on an island for a long time. The boy needs to run free!
Is allergic to cats but he must pet them each time he sees one. Who cares if he’s sneezing for the next hour and can’t see, he got to pet that cute calico!
He’s tried to get his siblings to use shields, but so far only a handful do. A shield isn’t just for protection, it can also be used as a weapon and he wishes more people saw them as less of a cheap cop-out and more of a defensive tactic.
Fossa:
Is the quietest commander, not for shyness or lack of things to say, but because he prefers to plan his words carefully and watch those around him.
Works at a steady pace and encourages others to do so to lessen injury and stress.
Always has a cigar on him and a collection of lighters.
Pops may be their father but Fossa is very much the uncle of the crew and some see him as a second father figure.
The flaming sword was an accident but it’s a perfect intimidation weapon, especially for when he doesn’t actually feel like fighting.
Izou:
The designs he has on some of his guns were made by him and done by Fossa.
Has been accused of wearing a wig before because of how perfectly kept his hair is. The accuser was tied to the mast for 3 hours until the shipwrights could figure out how to undo the knots.
Got gossip? Izou already knows.
Will sell your soul for a cornchip if you piss him off badly enough.
Doesn’t wear kimono’s 24/7 despite what you may think. That’s his go-to outfit, yes, but his wardrobe is expansive, going from from crop tops and shorts to expensive suits and elaborate dresses and kimonos
#answered#((I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS!! IT TOOK A LONGASS TIME))#headcanons#Pops : Whitebeard#Whitebeard pirates#Whitebeard#Marco#Marco the phoenix#Portgas D. Ace#Jozu#Diamond Jozu#Thatch#Vista#Blamenco#Rakuyo#Namur#Blenheim#Curiel#Kingdew#Haruta#Atmos#Jiru#fossa#Izou#((HOLY MAMA that too forever))#((Both the headcanons and the tags))#((lol))#((long post is long))
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Perfect Size
Title: Perfect Size Square Filled: Size Kink Pairing: Dean x Plus Size!Reader Characters: Dean Winchester, Plus Size!Reader Warnings: Fluff/Smut Summary: No matter how many times Dean tries to reassure (Y/N) that he is attracted to her, she always shy away from him. Finally, he takes matters into his own hands. Word Count: 3012 Created for: @spnkinkbingo
Looking in the mirror, (Y/N) pulled her flannel over the bulge of her stomach. Even with all the hunting and training she had gained some weight. She blamed mainly herself for not being able to say no to Dean whenever he would bring her home hamburger and fries instead of the salad she had requested. He did not understand since he could eat whatever he wanted and still look like a damn model.
She took of the flannel and grabbed another one that she recently purchased that was a size bigger. Once she slipped it on, she felt her body relax seeing that all her rolls were well hidden. She put her boots on and opened her door immediately being hit with the smell of bacon.
“Great, Dean’s cooking.” She mumbled making her way down to the kitchen.
Walking in she saw Dean standing in front of the stove shaking his cute little butt to music playing within his own head. Sam was sitting at the table reading from his tablet, “Morning (Y/N).” he said looking up to take a drink of his coffee.
“Morning Sam is it okay if I have some of your fruit this morning?” she asked as he simply nodded at her.
“Fruit?! Forget the fruit sweetheart! I made you the Dean Winchester breakfast special.” He proud displayed a plate filled with two fried eggs, a load of bacon, pancakes drowning in butter and syrup with some red-skinned potatoes.
Her mouth dropped opened slightly as a wide smile crossed the gorgeous hunter’s face, “Dean… I can’t…” she began to say but he placed a piece of bacon on her lips.
“I know right? I’m like a master chef or something. Sit. Sit.” He said as she chewed on the delicious piece of bacon.
(Y/N) sat down the sound of her seat creaking echoing in her ears. Sam looked up at her sympathetically knowing the struggles she had with her weight. Many nights he had stayed up with her as she poured her heart out about how she wanted to be thin and pretty. He trained with her most days and really had helped her finding a good balance of a workout schedule. The only thing neither of them could control was Dean always feeding her crap.
She stared down at the plate in front of her as Dean watched and waited for her to take a bite. It all smelt and looked delicious, but she could also feel her jeans getting tighter from just looking at it. “Come on, eat up!” he said like an excited kid in a candy store.
She took a bite of the pancakes which were cooked to perfection and she hummed her approval as she chewed. (Y/N) watched as Dean’s olive eyes darken slightly and his tongue slowly swept over his full lips. She slowly made her way through the plate not being able to eat it all which then Dean took and finished.
(Y/N) felt like the girl from Willy Wonka who turned into a blueberry and had to be rolled out her stomach was so full. Looking down at herself she swore her stomach looked twice as big as it did when she got dressed.
The rest of the day was filled with researching in the library, an afternoon training session with Sam where thankfully he got them both salads for lunch afterwards. Finally, movie night with Dean in his room. She changed into her flannel pajama bottoms and over sized t-shirt with her slippers to make her way down to his room. Opening the door, she found him sprawled out across his bed in sweatpants and black t-shirt.
“Winchester, you’re going to have to move over, so my fat ass can fit on the bed.” She said smacking his firm legs.
He rolled over sitting up, “We fit just fine on here and I happen to love your ass.”
She rolled her eyes at him grabbing one of his pillows and placing it in front of her to lean on. Dean was always flirting with her, but she knew it meant nothing. That was just the way he was with everybody. Though when she was alone in her room she would often let herself fantasize about Dean really having feelings for her. Lord knows, she had feelings for him since the moment she laid eyes on him.
They were watching Dean’s favorite horror movie sitting side by side. His long legs stretched out crossing at his ankles while she sat cross legged her thigh resting against his. Dean brought his arm down around her as his hand gently rubbed her back. (Y/N) shivered as his fingers brushed over one of her back rolls.
She glanced over to see him smirking his eyes never leaving the screen. When the credits were rolling she began to get up, but Dean gripped her hip keeping her firmly in place. “Stay for a little while longer, please.” He asked pouting slightly.
“O-Okay, are we going to watch another movie?” she stammered as a wide smile spread across his face.
“(Y/N), we’re close friends. Right?” he asked sitting up and leaning in closer to her.
She swallowed the large lump in her throat as she nodded, “Y-Yep.” She squeaked.
“Why is that I know so little about you then? Like, if you’re ticklish or not.” There was a mischievous look in his green eyes as she felt his hand on her hip creeping up her shirt.
(Y/N) placed her hand on top of his stopping it from moving any further, “To answer your question, yes I am ticklish. Here’s a better question, what are you doing?”
He chuckled removing his hand and bringing it up behind his neck, “I guess I was trying to flirt with you because I like you, (Y/N).”
Her heart was pounding in her ears as she stared at him shocked, “You… you what?” she asked the urge to run propelling her body to get up out of his bed.
Dean quickly followed her, “I like you. I’ve always like you, but I know I’m not all that great of a catch. This last hunt when you were hurt it just made me realize that I must at least try. Try to see if something is here between us.”
(Y/N) shook her head, “Dean, you… I mean, I’m definitely not your type. You’re funny, smart, gorgeous and fit. I’m literally a bag of potatoes or large bowl of jello.”
“I like jello.” He said his lips curling into a smirk as he stepped closer to her.
She held out her arms to him, “Dean, I can’t. I think you like me because you know deep down I’ve always had feelings for you and you’re trying to be nice. There’s no need to be nice though because I know guys like you don’t like fat chicks like me. It’s fine. So, let’s just end all of this now and go to bed.”
She turned quickly leaving his room never turning back even hearing him call out to her. As soon as she was safely inside her room she crawled into bed with tears streaming down her face. The only man she ever dreamed of being with had said he liked her, and she had pushed him away. She knew deep down, she would never be enough for him and he would leave her for someone skinnier and prettier.
(Y/N) did not know when she fell asleep, but she woke up when she felt her bed dip down in front of her. By the smell of whiskey, she knew who it was, and he heart began to beat rapidly. “Dean?” she said as he placed one of his fingers on her lips.
“Shhh.” His warm breath tickling her cheek as he pressed his lips against it.
She tried to push him away, but he grabbed her wrist pinning them above her head, “Are you pushing me away because you’re insecure about your body or because you really don’t want this. If it’s for reason number two then I will stop now, but only if it’s that reason.”
(Y/N) could not lie to him even though she knew she should in order to save her own heart. He took her silence as her answer and brought her arms back down. His lips kissing her hand up her forearm to her giggly bicep and shoulder. When his lips reached her collarbone, she let out a breathy sigh.
She felt him smile against her skin as his arm wrapping around her waist as his lips kept moving towards her own. Dean hovered over her lips, “May I?” he whispered.
“Yes.” She said breathlessly as his full lips pressed against hers. His tongue swept across her bottom lip asking permission than she granted.
He tasted like mint and whiskey. She slipped her hand up into his hair loving the feeling of his silky hair between her fingers. He growled pulling her bottom lip between his teeth gently. His large hand was making its way up her back where once again she shivered when he touched the rolls of her skin.
“You shiver whenever I do that, why?” he asked pulling slightly away from her.
She bit her lip nervously, “I don’t want to disgust you.” It was an honest confession and even in the dark of her room she could see Dean’s wide eyes.
“Oh sweetheart, there is absolutely nothing about you that could ever disgust me. You are incredibly beautiful inside but especially on the outside.” He said unhooking her bra with his one hand. “Please (Y/N/N), I want to see all of you. I need to see all of your beauty.”
(Y/N) nervously sat up so Dean could lift her t-shirt over her head along with her bra. She heard him suck in a breath, “Jesus (Y/N), you’re even more gorgeous than I could have ever imagine.”
“Winchester, if I’m going to be shirtless then you better be as well.” She said earning a soft laugh as she watched him pull off his t-shirt.
No matter how many times she had seen him shirtless rather him coming out of the shower or having to patch him up after a hunt he still mesmerize her. “I love it when you get demanding with me.”
Dean crawled up her body settling between her legs as she laid back onto her mattress. His warm skin pressing against hers as he kissed her again. His lips pressed against her neck as he grinded his hips into her making her gasps slightly.
“Feel the effect you have on me, (Y/N). That is all from seeing you, being around you.” She felt his hard length against her as his mouth moved further down.
His hand covered her breast kneading softly as a moan escaped her lips. He brought his lips around her nipple with his tongue leisurely lapping over it. “Dean…” she sighed pushing her breast further against his mouth.
(Y/N) could feel her arousal soaking through her panties and as if her body was on autopilot she lifted her hips against him to relieve some of the pressure building within her. “Don’t worry sweetheart, I’m going to take good care of you.”
His lips left a wet trail of kisses down her stomach as his hands slid down her curvy sides to her pants waistband. Lifting himself long enough to pull her bottoms and panties down her thick legs tossing them to the floor. Instinctively she closed her thighs together.
“Don’t hide from me now, sweet girl.” Dean’s voice raspy and deep. His hands resting on her knees as she slowly opened herself to him. A low groan came from deep within him as he looked down at her.
He ran one long finger against her slick folds bring out a strangled breath from her lips, “Good god, you’re already so wet for me. Now, I have to see if you taste as sweet as I think you do.”
Watching Dean Winchester’s head lower between her legs was better than any fantasy she could ever dream of. His sandy brown hair wildly sticking up and tickling her inner thighs. Her back arched off the mattress as his tongue took one long stride against her.
“So sweet…” he murmured as he took another leisurely swipe of her as if she would a lollipop.
His hands pressed against her thighs spreading her legs a little wider as he focused on her sensitive clit. “Oh god… Dean!” she cried out gripping the sheets on either side of her.
(Y/N) shamelessly grinded her hips against his mouth feeling the pressure deep within her getting ready to burst. Dean pulled his mouth away kissing her thigh as he pushed one finger into her entrance. A deep moan echoed off her walls as he pulled out and pushed two fingers in her.
“Come on sweetheart, I want to feel you come on my fingers.” He said kissing up her leg. He was mercilessly pumping his thick fingers in her curling them in just the right spot. It was not long until she was calling out his name as the dam busted and she came hard.
She was barely coming off her high when she watched Dean get up pulling his pants and boxer down his long bowlegs. She watched as he smirked down at her grasping his hard length stroking it. (Y/N) wanted to feel it within her own hands and taste him. She licked her lips making him chuckle.
“There will be plenty of time for that, but right now I need to be buried deep within you.” He said crawling back onto the bed laying next to her.
“Dean… what are you…” she began to ask them realized what he wanted. “No, I’ll squish you.”
He pulled her arm gently getting her to roll onto her side. His hand guiding hers down over his length as he sucked in a breath. He was large, and her walls clenched at how wonderful he would feel within her. “Baby, you are not going to squish me. The only thing you’re going to do is fulfill a long-time fantasy of mine.” His voice was straining as her hand slowly stroked him.
She swallowed hard before lifting herself up kneeling beside him. He placed her hands on his shoulders helping her to brace herself as she straddled his hips. His cock nestled between her slick lips as he gripped her thighs. As she lifted herself he held himself as she slowly sank down onto him.
“Fuck.” He groaned as he was buried deep within her. “Shit, you feel so good sweetheart.”
(Y/N)’s fingers were digging into his shoulders as she got used to the way he stretched her. Never before had she felt to connected or full by a man. She looked down at him as a lopsided grin spread across his face. His hands gripped her hips urging her to move. She leaned forward slightly slowly pulling him out and then moving back against him.
He little grunts and whimpers gave her the confidence to move a little fast sitting up slightly as his hands gathered her breasts. “Fuck, baby just like that. You look so damn beautiful riding my cock.” His husky voice fueled her to ride him a little harder.
The sounds of their skin smacking together echoed throughout the room turning her on even more. He pulled her down on top of him rolling them so her back was pressed against the mattress. He put her legs over his shoulders as he pushed into her wrapping his hands around her thighs.
He thrusted into her at a feverish pace. She could feel every inch of him stretching and hitting all the right spots. He wrapped her legs around him as he leaned forward capturing her mouth with his. “Come on sweetheart let me feel you come. Feel you clenched around my cock.”
He reached between them his thumb brushing against her clit a couple of times before she was crying out for him, “Yes, just like that Dean! Oh god, I’m coming!”
Dean buried his head in the crook of her neck pounding into her chasing after his own release. “Fuck (Y/N), I’m so close.” He grunted.
“Come for me, Dean. Come now.” She panted and felt his body go rigid as he pumped into her. His body was trembling as he slowly pressed into her one more time before resting on top of her.
His breathing was coming out in short bouts, “Am I hurting you?” he asked trying to lift himself off of her.
She wrapped her arms and legs around him keeping him in place not wanting to break their connection yet, “Stay.” She whispered hearing him chuckle.
After a few minutes she let him go whimpering as he slipped out of her. He rolled over pulling her with him as she wrapped her arm around his stomach. “(Y/N) can I tell you something?” he asked after a few moments of silence.
“Of course.” She answered nervously.
His hand was stroking her hair as his other hand laced their fingers together on his stomach. “Ever since I met you whenever I was with another woman I also imagine she was you. To be honest, I never have liked small woman. I just never found a curvy woman who would actually give me the time of day.”
(Y/N) looked up at him surprised then she started laughing. He scoffed at her, “That was an honest confession and you’re laughing at me.”
“I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you, I promise.” She reached up touching his cheek gently, “Any woman who is big like me would have never believed in a million years that a man like you would be into them. Their loss because wow you’re more amazing than I could have ever fantasized.”
She leaned up kissing his lips feeling him smile, “Well no one else could ever compare to you. You are perfect in every way including the perfect size.”
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September - Yanan (pt. 3)
Part 3 out of 3; ~ 4.6k words
[Part 1]; [Part 2]
The days after spontaneously moving in with Yanan went by surprisingly fast, despite me burying myself in my studies. I was determined not to fail this class again – not because of my parents or because I was hoping they would take me in again, but because I didn’t want to look like a failure in front of Yanan. Though he assured me he didn’t see me as one, no matter what, I felt better about myself when I was studying instead of lazing around in my free time. He even offered to help me with it, though he had said previously that he was bad at business maths, but somehow he was able to explain to me the bits that I did not understand by myself. As for my living situation my grandma had contacted me a few days after getting kicked out. She had sounded super worried on the phone, more than I had ever experienced her worry before, and she had offered to take me in, because she couldn’t just let her granddaughter sleep on the streets. I hadn’t dared telling her that I was actually living with a young man, or she would have gotten a heart attack – and above all, a completely wrong idea. I remembered the story of when my mother suddenly didn’t come home anymore in her early twenties because she had moved in with her boyfriend at that time, who had turned out to be emotionally very unhealthy for her. She had never explicitly told me about that last part, but from the many stories I had heard about him from mostly my grandparents, it wasn’t hard to put the puzzle pieces together.
Understandably, my grandmother was traumatized after that, so I had spared her the unnecessary details that would’ve only lead her to believe the same was happening to me. I remembered her words after the phone call and arriving back from school that day, Yanan was waiting for me with a gentle smile on his face and two cups of coffee in hand. As I took the soothingly warm cup from him, I spent a while peering up at his beautiful face, probably a little longer than I should have as he cocked his head and raised his eyebrows as if asking me what I was staring at him for. I shook my head.
“Let’s go,” I said and started walking into the direction of his flat, with him following a few steps behind. I knew that he wouldn’t treat me badly, no matter what. I trusted him.
We took a little detour to go shopping for some groceries. I wanted to make proper dinner tonight, as a thank you for letting me stay with him. As we were walking home from shopping, bags in hand, I noticed he started humming a familiar melody, and it didn’t take me long to recognize the song. It was the same song we had already talked about briefly when dancing together and I decided to sing along a little. “...fighting against all odds, I know we’ll be alright this time…” Upon hearing my voice, Yanan looked over to smile at me, then started singing the lyrics as well. We walked like this the rest of the way, quietly singing together, and I couldn’t keep the broad smile from appearing on my face when I felt a sense of unity because of it.
Arriving home, after we put the food where it belonged in his kitchen, I cleared my throat to tell him that I had an announcement to make.
“Um… I talked to my grandmother today,” I started explaining and found a hint of an emotion in his expression that I could not interpret. “She said she would take me in. So I thought living with her might be smarter than continuing to freeload here…” I saw his face drop, but when answering he made sure to keep his voice stable.
“That means… you’re leaving…?” he quietly asked. I could swear he was disappointed, even though he did his best to hide that. I glanced over at the bundle flowers on the table, one or two of them starting to wilt slowly, and bit my lip.
“It’s better if I live with family,” I reasoned. Silence followed. Then he took one step towards me, then another one, until he stood right in front of me. Slowly, his big hands wrapped around mine and brought them up between us, his soft fingertips sending warmth and an almost electric feeling through my skin. Not daring to look me in the face he took a deep breath and called out my name.
“Stay with me for a while longer,” he asked and added after a short pause, “Please.” I watched as the features on his face changed slightly. Barely noticeable they went through all kinds of complicated emotions one by one, but I saw all of them, until his eyes finally met mine and for a moment those warm brown pupils loaded with all the emotions his face wouldn’t let show properly wiped all my thoughts clean and for a while I thought I could feel what he was feeling. And it almost ripped out my heart, clenching it and wringing it out, trying to drain it of all good emotions so that only pain was left. I didn’t quite understand that the thought of me moving back out brought him so much agony, but I understood that it did, and tears of sympathy started welling up in my eyes. I got a little closer and carefully wrapped my arms around his tall body, embracing him while leaning my head into his chest so I could feel his heart slowly beating against my ear. He too put his arms around me, holding me while leaning down so he could bury his face in my hair.
“Then I’ll stay… maybe it’s better if I avoid running into my mother for a while longer anyway,” I mumbled and felt him softly nod. My curiosity as to why he didn’t want me to go so badly grew, but I figured it would be better not to ask. So I made dinner as planned and managed to put a huge smile on his face with it, which made me feel relieved in return, and while he did the dishes as he insisted, I buried myself in studying once again. It didn’t take long until he sat down next to me on the ground, helping me solve the more difficult problems and praising me when I was able to get the answer right by myself.
“You’re really getting better and better!” he exclaimed, his chin resting on my shoulder. “Keep it up, you’re doing well like this!”
“You think I can ace the class next semester?” I laughed, thinking that would never happen anyway. However, he took a hold of my shoulders and answered in a completely serious tone.
“Yes. I think you can if you keep working hard like this.”
The following week I had my day off on Tuesday as usual and sat down to begin studying right after breakfast, but just as I was about to open my textbook, Yanan put his big hand down on it to prevent me from doing so. A questioning expression in my eyes, I looked up at him.
“You’ve been studying so hard non-stop. How about we use today to take a little break?” he offered.
“Like what?” I asked him, curious as to what he had planned.
“Well, we could go into town, do some window shopping if you like, get us some sweets,…”
“So like… a date?” I asked and noticed his cheeks lighting up immediately.
“Y-yes,” he stuttered, turning away shyly. “If you want to call it that then it’s a date.” I chuckled and jumped up to take his hand.
“If you want to go on a date with me, then just ask!” I laughed at him, but added on a more serious note and in a way he couldn’t have possibly made out the words exactly, “I couldn’t say no to your handsome face.” As I went on to change into more suitable clothes in the bathroom, he remained standing there as if he was in shock, then silently muttering,
“Only my face…?”
As planned, we took the fastest way into the shopping district of my hometown and we went down the same street where my mother bought the dress for his aunt’s party for me. I sighed at the thought of my home and my family, and realized that after all, I missed them a little. Walking closely next to Yanan, the backs of our hands were bound to touch every now and then, until somehow we ended up holding hands and I couldn’t hold back a smile while passing by the big shopping windows and the colorfully flashing and blinking signs overhead.
“Found anything you want?” he asked me after a while.
“No, I’m just looking. I can’t afford anything here,” I chuckled back.
“I’ll buy you something,” he offered and I looked at him in disbelief.
“You can’t…!” I protested. He was already doing so much for me, I couldn’t let him buy presents for me as well.
“My relatives are rich, remember? And sometimes they spare me some of their… leftovers.”
“You saying it like that doesn’t make it sound shady at all, you know…” I remarked, causing him to laugh a little.
“Maybe it is shady. Who knows?” I raised my eyebrows at the answer, but he immediately denied it himself. “It isn’t, don’t worry. Me and my cousins just get a lot of financial support from them.”
“…then why does your cousin’s flat look so plain?” I wondered out loud. “If he has the money, shouldn’t he at least decorate his home accordingly?” Yanan let out a sigh.
“I’m not sure. I suppose he just doesn’t like all that colorful stuff around him all the time. His parents’ house is filled with decorations. Maybe he got tired of them. But that aside, my offer still stands. Let me buy you something.”
“Then…” I looked around carefully and found a street vendor selling candied fruit and pointed at his stand. “I want strawberries!”
“Huh?” Slightly confused, Yanan followed where my hand pointed, then let out a sound as he understood what I meant. “That’s not a lot though…” he commented.
“I don’t need much,” I stated. “But what I do need is my regular dose of sugar!” I laughed and we walked over there. Yanan bought two servings of the candied strawberries, all lined up on a stick and the smooth surface reflecting the sunlight coming from above. We decided to sit down on a bench nearby and after enjoying my first strawberry, I stared off into the distance for a while, getting ready to talk.
“Say, Yanan…” I started and had his attention immediately. “What do you do if there’s something you’re just not good at… or that just doesn’t work out for you, and you keep failing at it? Like, what would you do if you were in a situation like I am with that maths class?”
“Hmmm,” his voice resounded next to me while he was visibly thinking about how to answer, obviously aiming to pick the right words carefully. “I guess I just try over and over again, until it works out someday. I can’t keep failing forever.”
“You keep trying? Even if it takes years?” I asked, amazed by his answer.
“Even if it takes years,” he said, his facial expression determined.
“That’s a lot of dedication,” I remarked and took the next strawberry into my mouth. “Isn’t that draining?”
“It is,” he admitted. “Of course it can be draining.”
“Then why hang on? It has to be enough at some point…” But he shook his head, maybe with a little too much force.
“No. Not with everything. There are certain things I would never… I could never give up,” he stated, looking at something far off in the street, but I couldn’t make out what it was that he was staring at.
“Wow… what is that thing you would never give up, even if it takes years to achieve it? Is it okay if I ask you that?”
“It’s…” Yanan slowly let his eyes sink to the ground. “Nothing.” I couldn’t bring myself to believe that. But I hesitated to pose any further questions. He must’ve had a reason why he didn’t want to speak about it.
We both finished our snacks and I held out my hand for him to give me his wooden stick the strawberries had been carefully lined up on, so I could go and throw them away. Just when I was standing right in front of him and he passed it to me, I caught a glimpse of his tongue licking the remaining sweetness off his lips. Unconsciously mimicking his movement, I couldn’t help but wonder what it would taste like to kiss him with the flavor of the sugar and the strawberries still lingering. He slightly raised his eyebrows as he must’ve caught on to what I was thinking and he leaned back a little, holding out his hand to gesture I should come closer. Blushing and my heart rate speeding up, I leaned down to him and closed my eyes, waiting for him to make our lips meet. I heard him let out a soft laugh right in front of my face and a kissing sound, followed by the feeling of his fingers across my lips. I opened my eyes in disappointment and looked at him angrily.
“That’s not what I was hoping for…” I uttered, trying to hide my disappointment.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. Let me do it properly,” he gave me a mischievous smile, but I wasn’t having any of that. Just when I was about to shake my head and straighten up, I felt his hand behind my neck. He pulled me closer so my lips landed on his, and as soon as I sensed the softness of the kiss combined with the sweet taste of the treat we just had, all my anger washed away immediately. When he released me, I remembered he was toying with me just a few seconds ago, so I awkwardly walked over to the nearby trash bin, not sure if I should still be angry or just let it slide. He too got up and approached me from behind.
“Let me carry your bag as an apology,” he said, but I refused.
“Leave it, it’s not heavy anyway. Also, I don’t want to seem like the evil girlfriend that makes her boyfriend do everything for her like a slave,” I answered and turned to look at his bright face.
“Oh, so we’re a couple now?” he asked, and upon realizing we hadn’t officially talked about our relationship status yet, I blushed madly.
“W-well…!” I stumbled over my words. “O-only my boyfriend is allowed to kiss me like that, y-you know-“ Before I could do anything else, he shut me up by leaning in and placing another lingering kiss on my lips.
“Like this?” he asked, whispering while the distance between our faces was still small enough that I could feel his breath on my skin while he spoke. As soon as he had taken a step back and I had time to breathe properly, I yelled at him.
“Since when are you so overconfident?!” He only answered with a sweet smile, looking to the side in his usual shy manner, confusing me even more. While reaching for my hand and intertwining our fingers, I could hear him mumble into a different direction,
“It’s all because of you.”
We got back from our little date in the afternoon after having lunch outside, which I couldn’t keep him from paying for me. I immediately went back to studying, and even though he tried to convince me to take it easy for the rest of the day as well, he understood that I would feel guilty if I didn’t at least revise the stuff I learned the day before. He sat down with me to see if I needed help with anything and come evening, we prepared dinner together and let the day come to an end naturally, both going to sleep in our separate spaces, feeling content with the successful day.
That night I woke up from one of my usual nightmares. I opened my eyes, the petrifying fear slowly letting go of me as I scanned the apartment shrouded in the dim light of the moon and stars entering through the thin curtains. When my pulse was back to a rather normal pace, I tried falling back asleep with the sheets pulled over my head, but somehow the unsettling feelings which the nightmare brought with it came back every time I closed my eyes and had nothing but darkness in my vision. Sighing, I eventually gave up and got my tired body out of bed, walking over to the kitchen to get a glass of water. But even then I couldn’t quite calm down, and on the way back to the couch, my eyes landed on the door to Yanan’s room. With silent steps I tiptoed over there and put my hand on the handle, before carefully opening it, trying to make as little sound as possible. His room as well was partly veiled in the moonlight and I could make out his figure lying on his side in the bed, peacefully sleeping. As I set one foot in front of the other, I noticed a book and loose sheets of paper lying next to him on the bed. Huh? Was he reading something? Getting a little closer, I recognized the cover, and letting my eyes scan the notes on the sheets and the highlighted parts, the realization hit me. I took all of it into my hands and recalled doing the first few calculations with him just a few hours ago, leading me to believe that the rest of the notes would be what I would study later on today. I looked up at him and his slightly messy hair and my chest filled up with warmth and thankfulness. He’s studying all that so he could help me with it… I carefully placed the study materials onto the floor next to the bed and crawled in, resting my body right next to his and placing one hand on his upper arm, that slid to his chest when he suddenly rolled over and opened his eyes a little. He gave me a confused look before he understood what was going on.
“I-is it okay if I stay here…?” I whispered. A sleepy smile curled up the corners of his mouth and he nodded barely noticeable. The next second, he put his arm around me and pulled me closer, so I was lying half on top of him. I lifted my head to look at his face and let him brush his fingers through my hair. The feeling in my chest from earlier appeared again, and this time it spread all throughout my body, and I smiled to myself when I finally realized what that really was. I brought my lips up to his and placed a gentle kiss on them, and again we locked eyes when we parted.
“I love you.”
His eyes grew wide upon hearing me say those words and I repeated them.
“I really love you.” With one hand behind my neck, he led me into another kiss, slightly tracing his thumb over my cheek while moving his lips against mine and our mouths opened slightly to deepen the kiss further.
For a while that felt like an eternity, but still far too short, just like back then in the pouring rain, I felt him close to me, closer than I ever thought I would. His gentle touches gave me nothing but reassurance, his soft lips exploring my body never failed to send shivers down my spine. With every little movement of his he poured in so much care, and I felt overwhelmed with love, that I did not want to let go of him ever again. And after that night shared in the dim moonlight, weakened by the swaying curtains, I wouldn’t see him the way I saw him before ever again. We both knew we’d cross a border we couldn’t just return from, and neither of us thought twice about the kiss that carried us somewhere different, and the connection that would bind our hearts together unlike anything else. And when I woke up in the morning, lying in his arms skin on skin, I knew I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.
The days living with Yanan passed by faster than ever. Sometimes I felt like they were flying away too fast, as if there was something we could lose, something that was waiting for us at the end. What end? As October progressed, the days got colder and the coffee he always bought for me while he was waiting for me to return from college was more appreciated than ever. I wanted to repay him somehow, but he just brushed it off, telling me in sincerity that he was content just having me with him. In the meanwhile, my grandparents tried convincing me to come back once more, but I wasn’t even thinking about returning to them. For now I was happy living together with Yanan and sharing my days with someone who I felt cared about me more than anyone in my life ever had. We started sleeping in the same bed regularly, and ever since then my nightmares had gotten fewer. And even if I woke up from one, having him right there next to me filled me with a feeling of safety and washed all other negative emotions away.
There was only one thing I noticed. I was probably interpreting too much since I was used to worrying more than I should. But still it made me think. As it got colder he would hug me more often, holding me longer than he had, and for some reason it had a hint of a sad feeling to it. When I asked him about it he insisted it was nothing, but still that lingering unsettlement didn’t go away, no matter how much I tried to make it disappear with reason. Until I came back from college late in the evening on the last of October. As per usual, he picked me up at the station, patiently waiting for me in the cold night. We held hands and walked home in silence, and from the way the air around him felt strange that day I vowed myself I would ask what was up with him these last days as soon as we got home. However, after we both took off our shoes and had put aside our coats, I looked at him standing there in the dark living room and a bad premonition came with the way he looked at me from a distance that felt bigger than it was.
“Don’t you wanna turn on the lights?” I asked, but he cut me off.
“Y/N, come here for a moment,” he said while doing a hand movement to underline his words. Surprised, I left the light off and approached him with unsure steps. He cupped my face with his big hands, movements careful as ever.
“I just…” he started a sentence and his voice broke off. He took a deep breath to collect himself while I furrowed my eyebrows.
“Yanan, what’s wrong with-“
“Shhh.” He put his index finger in front of my lips. “It’s okay.” He looked at me fondly while his voice carried a deep sadness, but in his brown eyes looking directly into mine I found nothing but warmth and love. “Remember what I told you back when we first got to know each other?”
“What do you mean?” I whispered back.
“I said I was from both the past and the future.”
“What about it? Wasn’t that just a story you came up with?” The confusion started tying knots in my brain and thinking about it became painful. He shot me an apologetic smile but didn’t further answer my question.
“I just want you to know that I am thankful I got to know you,” he said.
“Stop it, Yanan! This feels like you’re breaking up with me!” I shouted, and he took a strong hold of my shoulders.
“That’s not what this is. It really isn’t, please believe me,” he explained as if pleading that I would understand. Then he added more silently, “I would never want to leave you.”
“Then what is it…?” I dared to ask, preparing myself for all kinds of wild reasons, but getting none of them in return.
“It’s the same thing that always happens on this day when the clock hits midnight…” he said, giving the one hanging in the kitchen a look. I knew it wasn’t long until then, but I didn’t want to know how long exactly. “I’m so sorry I’m doing this to you over and over again…” he then muttered.
“What do you mean by ‘this’? Please tell me! What is going on?” I begged him, taking a hold of his shirt and clutching the fabric in my hands.
“I can’t explain it well either, but… let’s just say I need to move on.”
“Move on? From what…?” Was this about… the dimension thing he mentioned when we first sat down and talked? Was that all… real? He shushed me again while slightly shaking his head. His hands wandered to behind my back and I let him pull me close. I felt like crying but the confusion wouldn’t let any tears come out. Instead I felt his hand starting to slowly pet my head, and focusing on just his touch as I closed my eyes, I calmed down a little. Holding each other tightly, some time passed until he whispered right next to my ear with a clear voice and unmistakable words.
“Please… continue to do well, as you’ve been doing up until now. I know you have the strength within you. And thank you. Thank you for lighting up my life. When I first came to this town I really didn’t like it. I felt like a stranger among all those people I’ve never seen before. But then there was you. You made my days a little brighter. You brought me joy and a reason to look forward to the next morning. So thank you. Thank you for letting me love you.”
Having said those words he could never say enough, he couldn’t hold back the tears that had welled up in his eyes any longer. As if she wanted to comfort him, she wrapped her arms around him more tightly. Even just that little gesture of kindness made his heart overflow with warmth. As he was embracing her tiny body and a bitter but thankful smile formed on his lips, his eyelids fell shut and the clock hit midnight.
It was the 30th of September. He set foot into the cursed town in the early morning hours and made his way to the station where he would get a bite to eat and then wait to bump into her by the staircase to platform B, just as he had done so many times before in the past, and would continue to do for who knows how long in the future. But for now, he still had some time, so with his take-out coffee in hand, he leaned against the brick wall of the station building and sighed, unbuttoning his long brown coat with his free hand. It was unusually warm that day.
~Admin Salty
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