#but god forbid is it hard trying to get your work approved anywhere in this goddamn field

[drugsforaddicts]

I'm not sure if anyone remembers when I was posting about this one project I was working on... but since our whole class received the "thanks, but no thanks," I might as well come back to it and share these because I'm actually really proud of this collection! And I was kind of hoping that the duvet covers would get picked because I wanted to have them myself but oh well lmao.

The inspiration for the collection was Finnish ancient religion, witchcraft, and incantation poems.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 151

This chapter has been one that I have been dying to write for a while. I was worried that @baelpenrose would resist the idea, but he very much thought it was hilarious. As always, his input and riffing on this chapter has very much made it better and better.

However, it also made the chapter longer, lol. But there is just no way to trim it down without losing something that makes it all work, so this week is nearly double my normal length... break everyone’s heart, right? ;)

“I don’t like these numbers,” Parvati grumbled - as much as she was capable of grumbling - as she scrolled through the final counts of approval ratings on her and Hannah’s inaugural Food Festival.

The statistics had been dropped into our inboxes that morning, in the static of about a thousand other notifications now that Derek had finished the stress-test. Also included were the results of the last three invasion-prep drills, which I was in the process of scanning over.

“How bad are they?” I asked, half listening for a number. The drills were trending better, which was a good sign that the moves were effective.

Dismissing her display with a gesture of disgust, she sighed. “Seventy-four percent approval rating.”

I arched a brow and glanced over. “Did you adjust for those who did not attend?”

The glare she sent me wasn’t seen so much as felt. “Of course I did. First thing I ran…”

“Are you filtering by the day the comments came in?”

“I -” Bingo. She huffed. “No! These are intended to be ratings for the entirety of the event!”

I started scrolling through my own statistics. “Chart them out by the date the ratings came in, filtering out everyone who didn’t actually attend.”

A pause. “Oh… Oh! It’s showing ninety-three-point-four now!”

“Et voila,” I murmured. Louder, I clarified, “People like to weigh in early, and those who object in general tend to speak first.”

“I see that… how’s it going over there?” she asked, smoothing her braid over her shoulder as she turned to look at me directly.

“We are improving with every drill, marked upticks since the relocations. Arthur should be here in about - “ I glanced at a clock, “Seven minutes to go over next steps.”

Alistair breezed over to swap my empty bulb of cold coffee for a fresh one of water. “The appointment is in fifteen minutes.”

Parvati beat me to the punch.  “He is also compulsively early, meaning…. Six minutes now.”

He rolled his eyes hard enough that I wanted to giggle. “He doesn’t even have the decency to be fashionably late. Appalling.”

Surely enough, Arthur paged at the entrance - out of some sort of manners I accidentally instilled in him - exactly five minutes prior to our scheduled appointment. As he breezed into my office, he managed a half-assed glare at Alistair for abruptly turning away and focusing on my schedule rather than his usual tendency to get a beverage for any newcomers. “Okay, updated data on drills isn’t what I want it to be.”

I laughed. “You’re joking, right? Your team and Michael’s haven’t gotten past deck four by more than three percent in the last seven exercises.”

“Any percent above zero is unacceptable,” he grumbled. I chalked it up to the indignity of being forced to get his own tea from the console.

Almost as though to spite Arthur, Alistair made a point to set a refreshed water bulb in front of everyone except the professor. “There are guards on the other levels for a reason,” he suggested drily.

“And I would rather those guards be idle, thank you,” Arthur threw back in a near-venomous tone.

“Us guards would rather be prepared for any eventuality, which you may do well to plan for in your petty drills.”

I didn’t even try to intervene. Clearly there was some blatantly disagreement between my  admin and my friend, and I was exhausted from trying to make them cooperate.

“If I’m doing my job, you should be so grateful as to be idle,” Arthur drawled.

Alistair scoffed. “As if being left to rest and get fatter than a Christmas goose is a blessing…”

“You’ll live longer!”

“And get lax in my duties, which I will not stand for!”

“Get fat! Get lazy! LIVE! I don’t care! I’m not going to be lax in my duties to allow you the opportunity of getting practice at fighting.” Standing, Arthur buried both hands in his hair, but it looked less like he was running his fingers through it than pulling on it. “Are we really discussing this when we are training to fight in living body condoms?”

“I need to defend the Archives!”

“And Michael and I need to defend everyone! Us doing our job means you don’t need to do yours.”

My neck snapped back at the vehemence in his tone. This wasn’t their normal sparring… they may have never truly gotten along, but even in the beginning it was never so vicious.

To my further alarm, Alistair took a long stride forward and stared down his nose at Arthur. “We both know that she - “ his hand flung out to point at me “is either the luckiest or unluckiest person in existence. You can’t really believe that, in an actual assault on this ship, that she won’t be in danger. Which will place Tyche, the Archives, Derek Okafor, and Samuel Richardson in equal danger. You aren’t an idiot, you know this.” The hand pointing toward me turned, and time seemed to slow down as he stabbed Arthur in the sternum with it, punctuating each of his next words. “Stop lying to yourself.”

“Poke me again, and the finger comes off.”

“I would dearly love to see you try.”

Hannah and Parvati had jumped to their feet when Alistair approached Arthur, but were now slowly moving around to my position, safely behind my desk. Hannah hissed at me through clenched teeth, “You had to tell them to fight it out.”

“I thought they would use a gym, not the damned office,” I hissed back.

Before she could respond, Alistair spoke again. “You aren’t the only one on the Ark who wants to protect everyone. You need to trust us to do our bloody jobs.”

“The last time I trusted anyone else to protect people, I lost fourteen students,” came the ground out response. “I’m not backing down on this.”

“You will, or I will sedate you and strap you to a medical berth for the next four months.” Alistair stepped back and crossed his arms with finality.

A trickle of nerves ran down my spine as I watched Arthur clench his fists and release them. “You think the solution to everything is to tie it up, I swear.”

“Stop changing the topic. I am deadly serious, Farro.”

Arthur turned away from him, waving him off. “Try something else, you would never just sedate me for months on end.” Before we could stop anything, Alistair leapt forward and put Arthur in a headlock, only to be immediately flipped over the other man’s shoulder and onto the table. “Tch. Sloppy. I know you can do better.”

“I thought you wanted me to get fat and lazy,” Alistair grunted as he sucker-punched Arthur in the stomach and rolled for the other side.  Once on his feet, he eyed Arthur carefully as he circled the table. “You stubborn ass, you know I am right.  You are putting everyone in the lower levels at risk by not running preparedness drills with them, because you don’t want to factor in the fact that one of the offensive teams could fail.”

“We don’t have the luxury of failing, so no. If we do our jobs correctly, everyone who matters will be safe at the other end of the Ark.”

They didn’t seem to be at each other’s throats anymore, but the arguing wasn’t getting anywhere. “Guys - “ I tried.

Both men turned and practically screamed at me with their glares to stop talking.  Oookay. I held up my hands in surrender and decided to let them sort it out their way.

Damned if the console wasn’t on the other side of them, though. I couldn’t even get popcorn and a drink.

Alistair blew a harsh breath through his nose. “If you won’t include the lower decks in your drills, I will start sparring with Jokul.”

“He would kill you,” Arthur barked in the most miserable laugh I’ve ever heard.

“God forbid,” Alistair mocked. “If I were gone, who would make your tea in the morning.”

“The same person who picks up the socks that magically appear all over my quarters every day, obviously. Worthington, I’m serious, he could really hurt you. He has really hurt me. And Charly.”

That last part was dismissed with a wave. “Madam Charles the First put the fear of herself into him.”

“And you haven’t. He could kill you by accident, and he’d never forgive himself.”

“Maybe that wouldn’t be the case if you would let me train more!”

Arthur groaned and ran a hand down his face. “You are an adult, we’ve talked about this. Train all you want, with whoever you want - Charly, Sophia, Tyche… hell, train with Evan or Michael, I don’t care. Just, not Jokul.”

When did they talk about this? I wondered. It had to be during a sparring session or something, because it definitely wasn’t in my office during one of our meetings. A glance at Hannah showed she was watching everything unfold like it was the most riveting show she had ever seen, and Parvati’s squint of consideration wasn’t much better.

“As you said, I’m an adult. Perhaps I should take your advice, and train with Charly - “

“See - “

“- and Jokul. She will make sure I don’t get hurt.”

Arthur flung his hands up in frustration. “You are so stubborn, I swear!” Growling, he paced in a circle. “Fine! Train with Charly and Jokul. IN the bivouac suit, though! And I don’t want to hear a word when you end up confined in a med bay yourself.”

Alistair’s smug grin showed just how much he seemed to care. “At least I would be spared of picking up the trail of dishes that seem to follow you around.”

“For the love of - they are my quarters! Mine! And I don’t want to hear about it when your bloody socks are constantly getting lost behind my sofa!”

Oh. Oh no. Nonononononono.

“My socks can go wherever they fucking want to, when I am constantly cleaning your disgusting whiskers out of the sink!”

“You know what would fix you having to clean whiskers out of the sink? I could just stop shaving altogether. How about...that…” Arthur trailed off and very slowly turned toward the three of us behind my desk with a look of dawning horror.

And I tried. I really, really tried not to laugh.  I could feel my face reddening, my chest aching with the effort of holding it in.  

Hannah’s snort was my undoing. As soon as that tiny noise escaped her, all three of us erupted into hysterical, stomach-cramping, tearful laughter.  I felt stabbing in my arm as Parvati dug her nails in, trying desperately not to fall.  Unfortunately for her, Hannah grabbed me at the same time and all three of us toppled to the floor. The sight of Arthur rolling his eyes and crossing his arms only made me escalate from laughing to shrieking in hysterics and relief.

I couldn’t speak for the other two ladies, but I thought the two men were going to end up killing each other… At no point did I think they took the other option when I told them to either fight it out or….

I gasped for breath, trying to get myself under control. Wobbling to my feet with the help of my trusty desk and a couple yanks to free my shirt from Parvati’s desperate clutching, I pointed between them. “This… how long? Can’t believe… didn’t figure it out.”

“Not everyone is as… public… as you, Conor, and Maverick are,” Arthur snarked at me. “You know, private lives should be private and all that?”

“Must be for you,” I confided in Alistair’s direction, where he had turned his back to our fit.  “He’s never not told me when he was dating someone. Or thinking of dating someone. Or potentially interested in seeing if he was interested in dating someone… Best friend privileges and all that.”  While I waited for Alistair to respond, my mind whirled through all the things I had brushed off before but were very obvious in retrospect.

Glancing at Arthur for a hint yielded nothing but a flat stare that all but declared in flashing lights You Aren’t Stupid.

I tilted my head at that, and kept thinking. There had been genuine animosity on Alistair’s side in the beginning, and not a small amount of needling on Arthur’s.  So I knew it wasn’t something that had always been going on. My mind came to a screeching halt, however, when I remembered something - the day Alistair, Tyche, and I decided that, when I vacated my position on the Council, they would vacate roles as well to leave behind a ‘clean slate’. “Four years, holy shit,” I gasped. “Four years!?”

Finally, Alistair moved. His back was still to us, but his arms went limp by his sides, and his head dropped down toward the floor. “It would be unseemly to have the new Councilor of Education in a relationship with the attache to the Councilor for Resources and Engagement. Or formerly in a relationship, should things not end well.”

“And since he won’t be taking his position until we are on Von,” I put together, “You are okay to serve out the rest of my term, just not Hannah’s or Parvati’s.”

“Correct.”

“Huh. That makes sense,” I admitted before hopping up to sit on my desk, the chair being a lost cause on the other side of two women who were still sniffling and giggling on the floor. “I learned a lot today.”

“Uh huh,” Arthur confirmed drily. “And it had better stay in this office.”

“What?” I managed a pretty convincing confused face before pretending to realize what he meant. “Oh! The relationship thing. Yeah, cool, whatever. That’s not what I was talking about, but you’re good.”

“Dare I even ask what you meant?” Alistair ventured, finally turning around so that he could give me a warning look.

“Uh, isn’t it obvious?” I asked, shaking my head and spreading my hands, palms up. When they both just stared at me, I finally broke and grinned. “Dude. You two are freaking slobs.”

The squeaking noises coming from the vicinity of my feet told me that no further work would be getting done for the rest of the day.

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[fayemarvels]

The same side of the glass Pt2

Lokixfem!reader

Sequel to: The two sides of the glass

Summary: Loki,(Y/N), and Thor try to find a way to get Loki out of the cell. Maybe Frigga can help.

Warnings: none, bad writing

Word count: 1.6k

! Please don't repost my work anywhere without my permission. Thank you!

My masterlist: ***

Tagged : @loki-laufeyson965

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

4 weeks ago: ----flashback-----

“Talk to me, please” she begged and Loki only moved his eyes away from her figure.

“I know this is very hard to talk about but I want to understand and help you get through this,” He looked at her and his heart broke a bit when he saw the tears streaming down her pretty face.

“Please don’t cry my love,” He said with a slight crack in his voice. She nodded and wiped her tears.

“Is there anything I can do to make you feel more comfortable while you talk? Would it help if you wrote it down?” she asked and Loki shook his head.

“It would really help if you could hold me, but I don’t think that is possible.” He whispered and scratched the back of his neck.

“I am going to talk to Tony, write it down. It will help.” She stood up quickly and walked towards the elevator.

*** “No, absolutely not,” Tony said immediately and (Y/N) huffed out.

“Look, I know I am asking a lot from you but this could prove his innocence.” She tried to argue but he stopped her by raising his hand.

“I am sorry but I can’t jeopardize the safety of everyone in the building and possibly the whole world.” She nodded with a sad smile and turned around to the elevator. Tony grabbed her wrist lightly and made her turn around.

“Look kid,” she looked at him confused.

“I am pretty sure I’m older than you but go on.” He glared at her and continued.

“I know this must be hard. We are nearly done with the power blocking bracelets, and then you can be with him.” She smiled sadly and made her back to Loki’s cell. *** “He didn’t allow it, I’m so sorry my love.” She slid down the glass and Loki looked at her.

“It’s okay my darling, you tried and I’m very thankful for that.” She sat up straight and looked at him with determination in her eyes.

“It will take a few more weeks for Bruce and Tony to finish the prototype of the bracelets, and then we can hold each other. For now, talk. I want to know what happened. ”

*** “I think we are done,” Tony announced, and (Y/N)’s head snapped in his direction.

“Will it work?” she asked and Tony shrugged.

“I honestly have no idea. We are going to try it on Wanda first.” He said and (Y/N) looked at him puzzled.

“You want to compare Wanda’s and Loki’s powers? He is a god and she isn’t.” Tony looked at her annoyed.

”You have a better idea?” She just shook her head.

“Thought so.” He said and walked away. *** “Do you think it will work?” She asked Loki and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Don’t know what the source of her power is or how strong she is, it’s hard to tell.” (Y/N) nodded and looked at Loki.

“I want to touch you already, I hope it works.” She confessed and he smiled.

“I know love, I am in desperate need of a good cuddle.” She laughed and shook her head.

“I am going to give you so many cuddles; you will get sick of them.”

“I don’t think that’s possible darling, I could never get sick of you, or your cuddles.”

“Okay lovebirds, end the lovefest I have some news.” Tony interrupted them with a disgusted look on his face. The couple looked at him with hopeful expressions and Tony shook his head.

“It didn’t work on Wanda, we have to scratch this design and start from the beginning, Sorry.” (Y/N) smiled sadly.

“Thank you, Tony.” “No problem kid, wish I could do more but you have to wait a bit more.” He turned around and left the room. The lovers looked at each other with tears in their eyes, wishing they could hold each other more than ever before. *** “It can’t take long can it?” Thor asked and Loki paced around his cell.

“The mortals are useless; they won’t be able to figure it out.” Loki sneered and (Y/N) shushed him.

“I’m sure they will figure it out eventually, but it’s not soon enough.” She trailed off and looked at the wall opposite of her. They were quiet for a bit before (Y/N) spoke up.

“What about your mother? Wouldn’t she be able to help?” The siblings looked at her.

“I don’t think our father would approve of this, but I can get around him,” Thor said and (Y/N) smiled at him.

“I am genius, don’t need to thank me.” She teased and they laughed together.

“I really hope it works out.” She sighed and Thor announced.

“I will leave now, and be back in a few days.” The god of thunder said and packed up his stuff.

“Goodbye for now,” Thor said his farewell and left the room.

“This actually might work “(Y/N) said and he chuckled nervously.

“Yeah…” *** Thor didn’t come back to Earth for the next 9 days and (Y/N) started to worry a bit.

“What if she doesn’t have anything? Or Odin figured out what we are trying to do and forbid Thor from coming back to Earth.” she paced around the room and Loki looked at her annoyed.

“Calm down, he didn’t specify when he would come back,” he snapped and (Y/N) looked at him with wide eyes.

“Does this actually matter to you?” she asked loudly and Loki looked at her.

“Of course, it matters to me; do you think I want to be stuck here for the rest of eternity?” (Y/N) shook her head, and responded angrily.

“If you didn’t tell me right now, I wouldn’t have known, because you act like it doesn’t bother you one bit. I know for a fact you don’t have much faith in this plan or in Thor, but you could at least try to act like it’s going to work.” She paced in front of the glass and Loki sighed.

“I’m so sorry darling, I just….” He stopped to take a breath.

“I don’t want to get my hopes up okay?” he confessed and (Y/N)’s brows furrowed.

He breathed in shakily “I really want to get out of here, but darling, the chance of this working out isn’t really high. I have never seen any of those bracelets; I doubt my mother has a pair just laying around.” He walked around in a circle and pulled at the roots of his hair harshly.

“Hey, don’t do that,” she scolded him and he apologized quietly. “Look, I know, this must be hard for you, and I can’t imagine how being locked up must feel, but we must stay positive.” He scoffed.

“You know that is not my strong side.” She laughed lightly and sat down beside the glass.

“I am sorry my darling,” she whispered and rested her head on the glass.

“I am sorry too my dove, I don’t want to fight.” He responded and the girl giggled.

“We had fights that were much worse,”

“Yeah, we did” he agreed and the silence spread through the room. *** (Y/N) was making herself a sandwich when Thor came back to Earth. He greeted everyone and went straight to his brother’s wife.

“I got them.” He announced and she choked on her coffee.

“You do?” she asked and he nodded happily. She squealed and wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders.

“Let’s go get him out” she started pulling him towards the elevator when Tony stopped them.

“Wait, I want to look at them and analyze them before we let him out.” He bargained and Thor handed them to him. Tony looked at (Y/N)

“Don’t worry, I’ll be quick” he said and disappeared into his lab. *** “So, I don’t understand this much, but I think it will work,” Tony announced after 2 hours of being gone. He handed the bracelets to (Y/N) and she smiled at him, took the bracelets, and rushed towards the elevator. She pushed the button and the elevator.

She played with the bracelets in her hands to ease her nerves. This had to work, right? She didn’t have much more time to think about it, because the elevator stopped. She walked out, greeted the guards, and finally stepped into the room with Loki’s cell.

“You were away for quite a long time, is everything okay?” he asked her without looking at her.

“Thor is back, he brought these.” She said and his head snapped in her direction. He quickly walked towards her.

“He… brought them?” he asked nervously and (Y/N) nodded with tears in her eyes. She would be able to finally hold him.

“Tony will be down in a moment, he will put them on you.” She informed him and he bounced on his heels nervously.

“Okay Loki, let’s get this over with,” Tony said as he came into the room and walked towards the panel that controlled the glass between the lovers.

He put in the code, swiped the card, gave his thumbprint and the glass slowly disappeared. Tony walked towards him and put the bracelets on his wrists. He could feel them blocking his powers, and it didn’t feel good.

Nothing divided them now. He slowly stepped out of the cell zone, he was very wary, but who could blame him? Without his powers, they could hurt him very easily. When nothing happened, he started walking towards her.

He couldn’t believe it, he could finally kiss her. When he was close enough, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled his body toward hers. Loki put his face in the crook of her neck and breathed in her smell. Tears welled up in his eyes and he tried to blink them away, but he couldn’t.

“Come on kiss me, I waited for such a long time.” She begged and he complied. They kissed softly and he put his hands on her cheeks. They broke apart a few moments later. She put her forehead on his and closed her eyes in bliss.

“We did it.”

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

Thanks for reading my work, and if you enjoyed this story, please check out my other work, like, reblog and follow.

If you have any ideas or requests for fanfics, blurbs, or headcanons, you would like me to write, please write me and I will do my best to write it.

Also, would anyone be interested in a permanent taglist? You can let me know

If you think I could improve something about my work, warnings, or make it more inclusive somehow, please inform me and I will be more careful about it in my next work.

-Faye xxx

[saintqueer]

On Being 13

by saintqueer

Date Written: July 2019

CW: brief mention of an eating disorder

I will be posting a series of old creative nonfiction essays I wrote in 2019-20 every Friday and tagging them #a saintqueer original. Some might be a little outdated but I'm getting my feet wet in the experience of sharing my own writing again. Hope you enjoy! My inbox is always open.

Your name is Jordan. It is 2006 and you just turned 13. You are officially a teenager. Not a preteen. Nor god-forbid a tween. You’re in eighth grade at middle school in the Bay Area suburbs and you just got your first cell phone. It’s a silver LG flip phone without a camera. Modern social media has been born but is not yet widespread. Myspace and AIM are still the name of the game. And your friend’s Top 8s are literally worth crying over. You buy songs you like on iTunes for 99 cents. Songs like Far Away by Nickelback and Jesus, Take the Wheel by Carrie Underwood. That is, until you wizen up and start using LimeWire in 2007. By that time, you’ll think your tastes much improved. You’ll illegally download songs like Buy U a Drank by T-Pain, Wait For You by Elliott Yamin, and everything Chris Brown puts out. Every single feeling you have is so large it’s like it has the potential to kill you. Weird shit is happening to your body. You started puberty early but it shows absolutely no sign of stopping. Things just seem to be getting weirder and more emotional. You cut your own side bangs and they look hella cool.

Ok, let’s pause there. I’m gonna go ahead and break the fourth wall here. Reader, I was planning on doing this entire piece as a kind of immersive second person experience. But. I. Just. Can’t. It’s too hard and writing about being 13 is difficult enough. I think that intro was enough to get you in the right head space of Jordan circa 2006-2007.

Over the last year, there has been more truthful explorations of the adolescent experience in media than ever before. With shows like Pen15 and Big Mouth and films like Eighth Grade, I feel like for the first time I’m starting to come to terms with my own adolescence. Being 13 is really fucking hard. And 13-year-olds get such a bad rap when, honestly, they’re just trying to do the best they can with all the shit they’ve been thrown.

I first felt compelled to write this piece when reading a section of a book from my favorite podcaster, Karen Kilgariff. Karen describes a lecture series she went to in which one of the presenters made a case in defense of 13 year olds. Karen writes that being 13 “is the hardest age you ever have to be because of all the chemicals and hormones constantly raging through your body. It’s like you’re being drugged and then woken up with speed on a daily basis. All social structure implodes and resets itself in a totally unfamiliar way. You’re simultaneously the oldest version of a child and the youngest version of an adult, so you don’t belong anywhere. You don’t get babied, and you don’t get respect.” Basically, it fucking sucks!!!

At 13, my eating disorder was already in full swing and my body-dysmorphia-riddled brain had no shortage of reasons for why my life would be so much better if I weighed 25 pounds less. They would weigh us in gym class, one by one, and assign us our BMI classification (mine was “overweight”). I was constantly dieting, with resounding approval from family and peers; starving my growing body of whole food groups and then binging. My school used to sell these pizza hot pocket things in plastic wrapping called pizza sticks (they were so DELICIOUS). One time, I found an unopened and still-warm pizza stick on the floor next to a garbage can. Wildly hungry from my meager carb-less lunch I picked it up off the floor and shoved it into my mouth, facing the wall, in as few bites as possible so no one would see. OFF THE FLOOR…OUTSIDE. I think it was on a pile of leaves and other trash (though unopened, it was slightly flattened on one side so it might have been stepped on?). This is actually the first time I’ve told anyone that I did that. Blogging is fun.

I was truly beginning to understand that my body was a commodity in society. I couldn’t take up space as a girl and to be beautiful was to be frail. My body was a sexual thing but I was not allowed to be a sexual being. Boys were the horny ones, not girls. But boy, was I! The thing was I couldn’t tell anyone, only the bathtub faucet could know. This was heightened all the more by my church and my faith. Youth group taught me the importance of dressing modestly and how we had to do everything within our power to help easily tempted boys remain sexually pure. I had so much shame that I had any kind of sexuality at all.

A majority of us wanted to fit in when we were 13. And I wanted it desperately. It’s not necessarily that I wanted to be cool, it’s more like I just wanted to belong. I wanted to have best friends. I wanted boys to have crushes on me. I wanted to be wanted. And it never happened for me. I didn’t develop deep lasting friendships until my late teens. I didn’t have my first kiss until I was 21, for god’s sake. My friends at 13 were changeable and excluding. I felt like I was constantly vying for their approval and as I entered high school in 2007, my social life became the center of my world.

Admittedly, high school felt much more enjoyable than middle school. I had established my place in the cool crowd and shirked academics. I stopped listening to Christian Rock and started listening to Lil Wayne and learning how to twerk. I cut class with a friend to straighten my hair with my hot pink straightener in Starbucks. I got in trouble with the cops for underage drinking. I got better at actually starving myself for a few days at a time instead of just dieting. I was significantly better at swearing. However, every single thing still felt like the biggest deal ever and it felt like it would always be that way.

Now, over a dozen years later, I hardly ever think about how it felt to be 13. I always forget that I “fell in love” with a boy named Alex at church summer camp who I saw from afar five times and talked to once for two minutes. It’s hard to believe now that I wrote his name in sharpie on my converse sneakers and sang I Drive Myself Crazy by *Nsync while crying and staring directly back at myself in the mirror.

This might seem unforgiving but I feel like the one redeemable thing about being 13 is that it doesn’t last forever. It ends. You grow and you change and you work through your trauma. If you’re lucky, you get better friends and you go to therapy and do some healing over ten years later by watching tv shows and movies that remind you of every painful feeling. Then you look back and laugh. You laugh at that school dance where Peter said he’d never, ever slow dance with you. You laugh at the school dance less than a year later where you grind provocatively on a dude you don’t know to Get Low by Lil Jon and the Ying Yang Twins. You laugh (hysterically, I might add) at eating that pizza stick off the floor. You laugh at smoking weed for the first time using a plastic water bottle your friend somehow turned into a shitty bong. You laugh at shoplifting your first thong from Ross. You laugh at your self-cut side bangs. You laugh and you laugh and you laugh and then you, finally, move on.

[big-ass-magnet]

When History Comes Calling, Ch 5/14

art by @snuffes

Fandom: Mass Effect Rating: Teen Pairing: none, some background Fshep/Garrus

Summary: In 2170, Mindoir was attacked by slavers. Hundreds were taken  captive, hundreds more were slaughtered. Kiryn was the only Shepard to  make it out alive. For years, he buried his grief, kept his head high,  and did whatever he needed to survive.He survived Mindoir and the batarians and when the Reapers came he survived them too.

But  when the war ends and he escapes his batarian masters to the Citadel,  the discovery that his twin sister is alive and well might just be the  thing that breaks him. The Hegemony's greatest assassin will remember  what it means to have something to lose.

AO3 link in notes!

Silversun Strip was…certainly something. Kiryn had been through his fair share of space stations, and this riot of shining glass and neon lights made them all look like space-bound towns. Actually, now that he thought about it, the Strip outpaced quite a few cities he’d seen, too.

This was another one of the few barely-scathed areas, although less because it had been well protected and more likely because it contained nothing the Reapers would have considered vital to survival. Clearly the genocidal synthetics from beyond dark space had never heard how important enrichment was for an organic’s mental wellbeing. Even here, though, there were signs of a struggle -- unpatched bullet holes in the walls and ripped up floor panels roped off as tripping hazards.

Nowhere to get away from it, Kiryn thought, even on your days off.

Kiryn moved with the flow of the crowd, letting them carry him down the streets as he planned his entrance. The easiest way to get inside an apartment building was through the service entrance. Half the time someone had propped the door open and you could stroll right in.

When he reached the right alleyway, he extricated himself from the crush of people, turned the corner, and scrapped the plan because there were two undercover officers hovering outside the building. They were doing their best to stay hidden, and their Citadel janitorial staff outfits looked legitimate. But they watched the doors a little too closely, kept their hands a little too close to their jackets, stood a little too warily.

So he ducked into the nearest building, which did have the service entrance propped open. He strolled down the corridor, through the lobby, and back out into the street. No sign of anyone watching the front entrance, which was interesting. Likely they were putting their trust in the building’s electronic security system. No trouble there; Kiryn knew his way around those, too.

This would be a little trickier, though. There was no way to avoid being seen, so he had to rely on not being remembered. Kiryn stuck his hands in his pockets and relaxed his shoulders, arranged his expression into one of mild interest. Nice and casual, everyone is supposed to be where they are. He strolled past the furniture store, pretended to be briefly intrigued by the sale on bed frames (five hundred credits off full size or bigger!), and finally approached Tiberius Towers’ front entrance.

He hit the call button for 15B. No response. Good. His assumption had been a safe bet: anyone who would have been in the apartment would be with Shepard. With Keris. With his sister.

Find the moment.

Stay focused.

He hit the button again.

Kiryn heaved a sigh, put on an expression of exasperation, and leaned on the button. If there had been anyone in the apartment, they would have answered by now just to make the noise stop. He pretended not to notice the turian woman approaching until she was right next to him.

“Um, excuse me.”

Kiryn glanced up and hurriedly stepped aside.

“Sorry,” he said, with an embarrassed smile. “My friend isn’t picking up.”

“That’s okay, I can let you in.”

He filed away the code she keyed in as he said “appreciate it.”

She gave him a little half-wave as she entered the elevator; he returned it as he opened the door to the stairs. Instead of climbing, however, he ducked into the shadows beneath them and took a look at the security system.

It wasn’t bad, not by a long shot, but he’d gotten around harder systems for less important people. It took less than thirty seconds to slip under the security firewalls and upload a virus that would loop the video as he went by. Anyone watching would see empty stairs.

All fifteen flights of them.

Maybe he should have taken the elevator.

Fifteen flights gave him a long time to think. He should upgrade his omni-tool. Top-of-the-line in the Hegemony tended to be middling quality anywhere else, even if you went through the black market. He should find a more comprehensive map of the Citadel, and find which areas were the dangerous ones. Experience told him that the law was likely concentrated at the Presidium, and got more diluted the further away you went.

Equally important was finding an easy way in and out of the refugee camp. Sarah had been right about the Citadel’s priorities. The guards at the doors were very concerned with who came and went. Security reasons, they claimed, when anyone could tell it was because they didn’t want the grubby little refugees actually on the Citadel, just in case they bothered the locals or, god forbid, started to think they could make a home here.

Dad would have had a conniption, he thought, and nearly missed a step in his surprise.

Perhaps he should be less surprised. Keris was alive. Of course that would drag those thoughts to the surface.

Thomas Shepard had very strong opinions about duty and responsibility, especially in regards to officers of the law. Kiryn had heard quite a few rants about what should happen to public servants who did not serve the public. Dad didn’t much approve of soldiers, either. Armies were built on the promise of protecting the people, and politicians turned them into tools for their own ends.

What would he think of his daughter joining the Navy?

Soldiers hunt soldiers, but Shepards hunt--

Kiryn stopped, midstep. He couldn’t remember. It had practically been the family motto, and he couldn’t remember. He could remember sitting at the table during dinner, his father gesturing with his fork, a four-way eyeroll between the Shepard children…

Shepards hunt...

This was pointless. What did it matter? He had more important things to do than try and remember things like that.

Besides, he was on the fifteenth floor. He checked again that the video was still looping correctly. That was a lesson you only had to learn once. As soon as he was sure it was safe, he pushed open the door and stepped confidently into the hallway. Not that it mattered -- but if anyone opened their door unexpectedly, he didn’t want to appear suspicious.

The door to apartment 15B opened as soon as he touched it.

Genetic sequence recognized.

It was a paranoid individual who used gene coded locks on their front door. He supposed Commander Shepard would have a lot of enemies.

Kiryn stepped inside and stopped dead, eyes wide. Oh, this was very, very far from the prefab housing on Mindoir. Filomet’s estate had been quite high status, thanks to the work Kiryn did for him, but it seemed downright spartan in comparison to this.

Filomet certainly didn’t have an indoor waterfall, that was for sure.

Or a hot tub.

For a few minutes he didn’t do much searching, just wandered around taking it all in. When he did start, it was a little disappointing. The apartment had a strange, semi-empty feeling that had nothing to do with it being new. Like a hotel, he thought. The art was tasteful and impersonal. All the furniture matched.

It was a place to stay, not a place to live.

The apartment was definitely inhabited, though, and by more than one person. There was food in the fridge and the cabinets, chirality carefully delineated by colored tape and, on occasion, sharpie. DEXTRO COFFEE, DO NOT DRINK, KAIDAN THIS MEANS YOU promised a very interesting story. The beds were made, but rumpled; there were a variety of products in the (three!) bathrooms.

The master bedroom felt no more lived in. There was a credit chit and a datapad on the bedside table, but no pictures, no clutter. At last Kiryn hit paydirt in the walk-in closet: a weapons table and an armor locker.

From the scattered mods and spare parts he could see she carried multiple firearms, but favored assault rifles and shotguns -- she liked it up close and personal. There were a few melted pieces that suggested she had a tendency to push her thermal clips a little too far. Kiryn felt a warm sensation in his chest. Fondness. In this way, at least, Keris had not changed.

Kiryn opened the locker. Her armor was black, but a deep black that would stand out anywhere but a sealed bunker underground. The crisp white and red stripes seemed to glow in contrast. Kiryn picked up the chest plate and nearly dropped it again. It was hard to imagine Keris could walk in this, let alone fight!

He tilted the chest plate this way and that, watching the lustrous finish shine in the light. Keris was the target. She sacrificed speed and mobility for armor that could brush off anything short of cannon fire, drawing the attention and the danger to herself, hitting the enemy head on like a battering ram.

Yes, that sounded very like Keris.

Kiryn nearly smiled as he put the armor back in place.

There were spare clothes in the drawers, but only two items hanging in the closet: a dress uniform, and an actual dress. Beneath them, shiny parade shoes and a pair of sensible black heels a full two inches higher than he’d ever seen Keris wear in his life.

The dress was the only really nice piece of clothing Keris owned, although Kiryn personally thought she could have found a nicer one. (The neckline alone was fifty years out of date, and he wasn’t even going to touch on those red highlighting lines.) There were a scant few articles of non-regulation clothing; by the looks of things she wore her crewman’s uniform even on her days off. That was...worrying. He didn’t remember her being much of a peacock, but she wouldn’t wear the same outfit twice in two weeks, let alone every single day. Kiryn never cared--

No. No, it was the other way around, wasn’t it?

Kiryn was the one who had cared. He’d spend an hour in the bathroom just doing his hair. He was the one who made sure his shoes matched his outfit; who complained about pale skin making it impossible to wear yellow without looking jaundiced. Keris would just throw on whatever her hand touched first, and dutifully go back and change when he told her for the fifth time, Ker, you can’t wear two kinds of stripes at once!

But she’d always liked it when they matched.

Kiryn looked down and brushed a hand over his shirt - dark gray, long sleeves, close fitting. It wasn’t all that different from what he wore on a job, minus some padding. He didn’t have much room to judge, did he? You could argue that slaves didn’t exactly have access to the latest fashions or the funds to buy them with. But he hadn’t been a slave for almost a year, and he hadn’t changed anything about his appearance.

He even still shaved his head.

Kiryn closed the drawers and walked away, not liking the tightness in his chest those thoughts brought on.

The first bug went in the office by the computer, before he tried to crack Keris’ password. It wasn’t any of the ones he remembered, so he had to let his omnitool take over. While he did so, he poked around in the boxes scattered around the room. Keris -- or someone else -- was halfway through taking down or putting up a collection of books and medals. He looked at the medals, but they didn’t match the accolades Keris was supposed to have earned. One of the books looked heavily used; he flipped it open. To David, so you can have another kind of adventure. Love, Kaylie.

David. Who was David? The tabloids made enough of a fuss over Keris’ imaginary paramours, surely they would have mentioned it if she was actually seeing someone.

For that matter, who was Kaylie?

His omnitool flashed, notifying him that the hack was complete. He checked to see the password -- I<3Garrus. Hopefully the contents of her computer would be able to solve that little mystery.

Kiryn set his program to download anything not labelled confidential, urgent, or as being sent from the Alliance. He had no interest in top secret projects and black ops missions. The program cheerfully informed him that it wouldn’t take long, as his requests filtered out almost the entire backlog.

Most people would advise against poking around in your sister’s extranet browsing history, but Kiryn was willing to risk it. No luck there either. The last time she’d used the computer was almost a month ago, mostly to read news articles and browse furniture catalogues.

Kiryn wasn’t sure if it was more frustrating or concerning. His sister didn’t seem to do much outside of… being Commander Shepard. Even saviors of the galaxy had to have free time. Didn’t she ever take shore leave?

What do you like to do?

It didn’t seem right. It was… logical that he would end up this way. But Keris was free. She had been able to choose. Why would she choose to be like...like him? If he had been free, would he still have ended up like this? No life, no purpose, no existence outside of his work?

With a whole galaxy on her shoulders, maybe she’d felt there wasn’t time for anything else. Maybe now that it was all over, things would be different for her.

Maybe they should be different for him, too.

The rest of the apartment was unhelpfully empty. He left his last bug in the kitchen, and made a mental note to get more. Alcohol loosened tongues; it would be good to have an ear at the bar. Feeling a little disappointed, Kiryn could only hope that the emails would be more enlightening.

He forwent the shuttle to the refugee camp in favor of walking. He had some things to pick up, after all. And it was harder to be introspective when he walked. Too much to focus on in the real world.

A new omni-tool, as he’d promised himself, although it would take a few hours of voiding the warranty to get it to do the things he needed it to do. Some mods for his sniper rifle -- the Hegemony was wrong about a lot of things, and the superiority of Batarian State Arms was now very high on his list. He’d have to find someplace out of sight where he could work on his gun, though.

Kiryn was pondering whether renting a hotel room for a few hours for the privacy to work on his very illegal rifle was as ridiculous as it sounded, when he saw something that made him stop.

The store was called Terran. It sold clothes. Nice clothes that looked to be good quality, from this distance. Suits and dresses and casual wear. And leather jackets.

He’d been saving up for one before…before. Had it all picked out, knew exactly what he wanted. It cost a lot of money to ship out to little colonies in the middle of nowhere. He’d barely been halfway to his goal when…

Why shouldn’t he buy one now? He had the money. He could wear whatever he wanted to, now.

Kiryn began to walk towards the store, but a few feet away, he froze.

He didn’t need another jacket. It had no tactical advantage over what he already had. And how could he explain it when he got back to the camp? Refugees didn’t wear things like that any more than slaves did.

Kiryn stared at his reflection in the storefront window. The pale, drawn face so carefully free of emotion. Placid eyes like green glass, hooded and empty. There was no way to tell by looking at him that he was one of the most feared assassins in batarian space. The blood on his hands was invisible to everyone but himself. Everything about him faded into the background, and that was by design and necessity.

He turned on his heel and headed for the shuttle. The sooner he got back to the camp, the sooner he could check Keris’ emails.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Not father by blood, but still your father; Roger Taylor x reader (oc! child)

*Author’s note*

Well after a full day of writing this idea in my head, I finally worked up the courage to post this.  Sorry if it feels a little rushed with the romance stuff, but I hope the platonic stuff fills all of you with warm feels and gooeyness. There's not really much warning except for the arsehole Paul Prenter who has to ruin everything. So I hope you all enjoy this fic and don't forget to like and comment below and above :)

Taglist:

@psychosupernatural

@plethora-of-things

@ixchel-9275

@waddles03

@geek-and-proud

@queendeakyy

@coolcxt

@mexifangorl

@platawnic

___________________________________________________________

Never did he think he’d be ready for this step so soon.  But the second he set eyes on (y/n) (l/n), Roger Taylor was twitterpatted.  It was 1971 when he first met her.  Just shortly after Queen had recorded their first album, he was browsing through a record shop one day and that’s when he heard her recommend the new Hendrix album over the AC/DC.

From that moment on, it was love and first sight with Roger.  But of course flirter that he was, she at first wasn’t interested but after a few attempts at being a gentleman at various occasions like whenever she saw him perform at the bigger pubs and small venues, she decided to give him a chance.

After about six months of being together, the longest he had ever had a committed relationship, (y/n) confessed something to him. She was petrified to tell him but he assured her that he wasn’t going to flee no matter what it was.

It was then she confessed that she had another guy in her life.  At first Roger thought she was cheating on him but it was then she told him it wasn’t another boyfriend, but her son.

About a year before she met Roger, she and her ex-boyfriend dated for a good six years together, soulmates at college. That was until she found out that she was pregnant and at first she thought he was cool with it, until one day his stuff was packed and he was nowhere to be found.  He never called or wrote to her telling her where he had gone, it was like he vanished off the face of the earth.

It was then any other relationship she tried to start up with, as soon as a kid was brought up, every guy high-tailed to the hills and didn’t want another date.

Surprisingly for Roger, he didn’t flee.  I mean yeah a kid is a big responsibility but he was just in admiration of how strong she truly was knowing that even after all that she went through, she somehow still managed to keep a job at the café she worked in, raise a son all on her own and still somehow be this vibrant spirit he saw her to be.

Roger also decided that he would like to meet the little guy because if he was going to be in her life, then he needed the approval of the man who loved her most.  And let’s just say the day Roger met little Caleb, he fell for him just like he fell for his mother.

Even at just 18 months old, Caleb immediately took to Roger and always wanted to be around him.  He’d crawl over to him and try to stand up on his own by using Roger’s jeans as an anchor for pulling himself up.

As Caleb grew older, he came to see Roger as the father figure he needed.  And Roger was more than happy to fill in that role.  He taught Caleb everything from cars, to drums, hell by the time the kid was 4 he bought him his own mini-drum kit (hoping to teach him to play before Brian weaseled his way into teaching him guitar, or Freddie with the piano).

In fact all the boys of Queen grew to love Caleb like their own nephew and they couldn’t help but spoil the boy too much, especially Freddie.

It was now 1975 and the boys were off at Rockfield farm recording their 5th album “A night at the Opera”.  But they were also prepping something else, for tomorrow was July 23rd, and that meant for the boys of Queen that it was going to be Caleb’s 6th birthday.

(Y/n) and Caleb were planning to get there by morning so that meant she was probably driving them all the way to the farm as they speak.  Freddie and Brian were putting up the last of the decorations while Deacy tended to the cake.

“Please tell me the cake got done properly this time.” Said Roger as he came down the stairs with the gifts.

“No worries Roger, never doubt my baking skills. At least Brian and I know how to deal with eggs.”

“That was one time Deacy!” Roger exclaimed.

“Try seven. You’re lucky (y/n) came along when she did and at least tried to stop you from doing it the 8th time in a month.”

“Oh sod off! Fred, Bri the streamers up yet!?”

“Take it easy darling you can’t rush perfection.” Freddie said.

“I’m not rushing perfection, I’m rushing you!”

“Take it easy Rog, we’ll get this up in plenty of time.” Brian tried to assure his long time bandmate.

“Sorry, it’s just I want this party to be perfect for Caleb.”

“And it will Rog, you’re just overreacting. And as I’ve told you before darling there’s only room in this band for one hysterical queen.” Freddie said as he finished tacking the last of the streamers. “There, perfect!” he clapped his hands before stepping down the ladder.

“I honestly don’t get why we’re doing this. All this is is a distraction.” Paul’s voice piped in.  Roger glared at him to see the snake leaning against the stairway and he snapped at him.

“If you don’t like it here then I’ll happily call you a cab back to London.”

“As your day to day assistant I have to be here.”

“Then if you’re going to complain take it up outside with the cows because they can take your shit. And I better not see you smoking anywhere near Caleb when he gets here!”

“For once I agree with Rog, so what’s it going to be Prenter?” asked Deacy.  Paul knowing he couldn’t truly speak his mind, especially when Freddie was in the room he said.

“Just don’t make them stay long. Do the party for one day then kick them out.”

“They’re going to stay here as long as they want. Besides it’s been forever since I’ve seen the little tike. Why should you get to keep him all to yourself Roger?” Brian said.  Roger grinned and said.

“Because I am his father and I forbid you to see him. Plus I know about those guitar lessons you’ve been trying to sneak him behind my back May.”

“Just saying, he’d look much better with a guitar in hand. Because the next thing we need in this world is another Roger Taylor. And god help us all when that day comes.” It was then Roger threw a birthday horn at Brian’s head.

“Children please. We can all murder each other but then who would be left to decorate the home for Caleb?”

“You and me Fred. So please both of you kindly set you rivalry aside and get back to work.” Deacy said as he got to work decorating the cake.

As the night went on by around 11:30 the boys finally got the house all set up for a six year old’s birthday party.

“Well I think that’s everything.” Said Roger.

“It looks good.” Said Brian admiring their hard work.

“Of course it is Brian because I designed the theme. That darling little boy is going to love it.” Freddie said.

“We’ll see come morning. What time did (y/n) say she’d be here?” asked Deacy to Roger.

“She said she’s be getting on the road at about 2-3am so that way she’d be here by around 7 maybe 8am.”

“Alright well my darlings I think after all this, we deserve a good night’s rest. Because tomorrow is party time!” Freddie proclaimed.

“Just don’t get drunk like last year Fred.” Lectured Brian.

“Don’t worry I took out all the booze this time around.” Deacy said. And with that the four band members heading towards their rooms and got a good night’s rest because tomorrow they knew they were in for a wild ride.

By dawn at the rooster’s crow, Roger groaned and placed his pillow over his face trying to block out the sound of the crowing. But then he also heard the sound of a car pulling up along the gravel driveway.

At first he thought nothing of it, that was until he remembered what day it was.

“Caleb. Birthday. Today! SHIT!!!” He quickly raced towards the window and saw (y/n)’s car pulling up and heard the engine shut off. “Fuck!” he quickly got dressed and of course in such a rush, he tripped a few times getting his pants on before banging along the walls trying to wake up Freddie and Brian. “WAKE UP YOU LOT THEY’RE HERE!!”

He raced out only to see that he wouldn’t be the first one to greet them.  Ever the early rise he was, Deacy and (y/n) separated from their hug and they turned to look towards Roger.

“Well finally decided to wake up eh?” Deacy mocked.

“You…..I’ll deal with you later.” He sneered.

“Please Roger, no fighting with your rhythmic partner. Especially with the birthday boy present.” (y/n) said as she walked up to him and cooled his hot-headedness with a peck to the lips.

“Where is he?”

“Still asleep in the back. Little man slept through the entire ride over here. It hurt me to wake him up so early so that we could get on the road early enough to beat the London summer traffic.”

“Well it’ll all be worth it. I think he’s gonna love what we did for him inside.”

“And there she is! (Y/n) darling.” They turned to see Freddie and Brian standing along the porch.  Freddie in his nightly kimono they got from Japan and Brian in a simple tank top and some shorts.

“Freddie, Brian. So sorry to have you guys wake up so early. Especially you Bri, I know how terrible you are in the mornings.”

“This is the one day of the year I’ll be okay with getting up at the crack of dawn. Need any help unloading anything?”

“Yes, I’ve got some of the remaining presents as well as some party games. If you lot could help me…..”

“Oh darling don’t be ridiculous, you will not be lifting a finger. You’ve already sacrificed some sleep just to get here, let us handle the unpacking while you and Roger handle the birthday boy.” Freddie said as he came up to (y/n) and placed both his hands on her shoulders.

“But—”

“He’s right love. The guys can handle the stuff.” Roger assured her.  With the famed baby blue puppy dog eyes, she knew she couldn’t say no.

“Alright then you two. Come help me out then.” Deacy said as he unlocked (y/n)’s trunk and grabbed a few of the presents. Freddie grabbed the board games while Bri got the rest of the presents.  As she went to open up the back door of her car, she told the guys to be quiet and they did as the three of them rushed back into the house.

“Here stay out of sight for a bit till I get him to wake up. Want to make this a surprise, I never told him where we were going.” Roger grinned and hid behind the car and got down so that he’d stay out of sight.

She opened the door and stroked her son’s cheek as she softly called out.

“Caleb. Caleb love.” He stirred and rubbed his hands over his eyes as he groaned and began to wake up.

“Mummy?”

“Hey handsome boy, time to rub Mr. Sandman’s sand out of your eyes. We’ve arrived at our destination.” Once Caleb became a bit more aware of where they were now, he asked.

“Where are we mummy?”

“Well baby; since I knew you were pretty bummed about the guys missing your 6th birthday party due to them recording their album, I thought I might bring you to a very special place. And there’s someone special who wants to see you.” (y/n) turned towards Roger and he slowly came into the frame and he said.

“Someone mention me?”

“Daddy!” Caleb called out. He struggled to get out of his seatbelt.  Both Roger and (y/n) chuckled as (y/n) reached in to unbuckle him.

“Hold still sweetie, I know you’ve missed your daddy but you gotta stay still for a second.” Once she got him unbuckled, she moved out of the way and Caleb immediately flew into Roger’s arms.

Rog spun his boy around and playfully nuzzled him.

“Daddy! Daddy!”

“What? What?”

“Do you know what today is?”

“Hmm I don’t know is it…..Christmas?”

“No silly that’s still a long ways away. Although I wish it was Christmas.” Roger chuckled and he adjusted Caleb from his hip to around his waist.

“Okay is it……your first day of primary school?”

“Ewww no!”

“Then I don’t know, what is today bubs?”

“My birthday!”

“Your what?”

“My birthday!”

“It’s not your birthday.” Teased Roger.

“Yes it is.” Giggled Caleb.

“Oh really? Well if it’s your birthday then how old are you today?”

“Six years old, going on seven.”

“Six!? Wow that makes you a man now huh?” Caleb nodded enthusiastically while (y/n) playfully rolled her eyes.

“Please don’t make my baby boy think he’s too old for his mummy.”

“Oh never my love. No matter how old he gets, a boy will always need his mum, right champ?”

“Right! Love you mummy.”

“And I love you my little baby bear.” She cooed as she Eskimo kissed him while cupping his face and giving him multiple pecks all over his face.  He groaned and ewed at the wet kisses he was receiving till he finally buried his face into Roger’s neck.

“Alright squirt, let’s get you inside.” Roger then carried Caleb into the house while the birthday boy kept asking if he could play with the farm animals, Roger answered with a maybe.

The three of them entered the house which had all of the lights turned off.

“Why’s it so dark in here?” Caleb asked a bit fearfully as he clung onto Roger’s jeans.

“It’s alright bubs, I’ll turn on the lights for yah.” The second the lights came on; Freddie, Brian and Deacy popped out from their hiding spots throwing confetti everywhere, blowing on small birthday bugles proclaimed.

“SURPRISE!!” Caleb’s face went full on ecstatic as he raced up to his uncle Freddie first who happily picked him up and spun him around.

“Happy birthday you lovely darling!”

“I can’t believe you guys are really here.”

“Better believe it lad, happy birthday buddy.” Deacy said as he placed the birthday crown on top of Caleb’s head.

“A crown befitting a prince, don’t you think so Roger? (Y/n)?”

“Indeed Freddie, and a very cute prince at that.” (y/n) teased as she gently pinched her son’s cheek.

“Mum! Prince’s aren’t supposed to be called cute!” he whined out as he rubbed his cheek.

“Oh right sorry, I meant handsome.”

“Alright Caleb, what would you like to do first?” asked Deacy.

“Presents!” the boy exclaimed.

“Uhh sweetie, how about we hold off on presents for a little while.” (y/n) told her son.

“Oh come off it (y/n) dear. Caleb is such a good boy plus it’s his birthday. If he wants to open up presents first, then he shall open his presents.” Freddie said as he playfully jostled the boy in his arms making him laugh.

“Fred you’re going to spoil that boy.” Roger said.

“I’m his godfather I’m allowed to spoil him. Now let’s open some presents.”

“Yaaaaay!” cheered Caleb as Freddie took him over to the ‘birthday chair’ (which was just one of the chairs from the kitchen but had some paper folded on the two top ends to make them look like a throne).

“Okay my darling Caleb you’re gonna want to open mine first because it’s the best present ever.” Freddie said as he gave him a very large (and when I mean large, I mean large, it could’ve been as tall as Caleb was standing up).

“Freddie what did you get him?” asked (y/n).

“Spoilers darling, go on Caleb dear open it up.” Almost immediately, the six year old boy is ripping up the wrapping paper and opened up the box to reveal a large shark bag chair with open jaw and everything. Since he saw the film JAWS, Caleb had been obsessed with sharks so when Freddie saw this while touring in America, he thought only one person had to have it.

“Wow!”

“You like it dear?”

“I love it, thanks uncle Freddie this is the best gift ever!” Caleb hugged his godfather thanking him repeatedly.

“Alright Caleb why not open the rest of your presents just so that your uncles and daddy don’t feel left out hmm?” he nodded and proceeded to open the rest of his presents.

From Brian he got some space coloring books and a Lego space set.  Deacy got him some animal books and a new stuffed lion (he, Roger and Caleb considered themselves the lion coalition since they were all born under the Leo zodiac). Roger gave him some Hotwheels model cars as well as a new drum set that almost resembled the set that Roger uses on stage (Queen design included), and his mom gave him the typical mom gifts some new clothes (but she got clothes that she knew he’d like that would have sharks or monster trucks on them) as well as a new teddy bear.

After presents, Deacy brought in the cake and Freddie lit the candles.  Brian picked up the birthday boy and they all gathered around the kitchen and everyone began to sing happy birthday to him.  (Y/n) setting up the video camera began recording to keep the memory of this day forever in the years to come.

Caleb felt like the luckiest boy on earth because to him it wasn’t just his family that was singing to him, but when you can say your family is Queen, it makes you feel even more special.  After the song, he closed his eyes to make a wish before blowing out the candles.  Everyone clapped and cheered then Deacy began cutting the cake.

It was the typical family picture for a kid’s birthday party (minus all the screaming kids).  Caleb telling the guys some of the things he’s done since summer holiday started for him, the four men listening intently, smiling and laughing. Pictures were taken all thanks to Brian, and for the rest of the day it was game time.

From musical chairs, twister, scrabble (of course they let Caleb win a few rounds), to pin the tail on the donkey.  Caleb enjoyed playing each game because he liked playing with his family, especially his dad.

Later that night, Caleb was in the living room cuddled between his parents.  He held his stuffed lion close to him as he leaned against his daddy’s arm.

“Did you have a good birthday bubs?” asked Roger. Caleb hummed tiredly as he cuddled closer to him.

“Seems our birthday boy’s tired himself out.” Said (y/n).  She strokes her son’s cheek and she tells him, “Caleb, sweetie, would you like daddy and I to make you a bath before bedtime?” he nodded.  

“Alright pal, I’ll come down and get you once your mum and I get the bath ready. Don’t fall asleep till then okay?”

“I’ll try.” Caleb says tiredly as he rubs his eyes. The two adults chuckle softly and stand up before heading upstairs to prep his bath.

As Caleb stretches himself out and yawns he then hears a voice say.

“Seems you had a good birthday.” He turns around and soon coming into the living room was Paul Prenter.

“Mm-hmm, it was fun.”

“The lads and your mum sure did spoil you.”

“Yeah. I like it when they do.”

“You know I shouldn’t probably say this but I’m not sure you know what exactly Freddie and the boys do.”

“I know who they are. They’re Queen, the greatest rock band ever.”

“That they are. And their fame is only going to keep growing, especially after this album.”

“Uncle Freddie says he’s gonna let me listen to some of the songs tomorrow.”

“And what a lucky boy you must be. I mean might as well let you have one final moment with them before they’re too busy for you.” Caleb turned to the Irish man and asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Well after this album takes off, it’ll be nothing but non-stop tours, album recordings, concerts, press interviews, Queen will be the highest band in the world. Even bigger than the Beatles. They won’t have time for family matters.”

“Huh? But they always have time for me.” It was then Paul sighed clearly showing his annoyed impatience as he continued.

“Alright for your own sake I’ll be blunt. They won’t have time to spend with you. In fact you’ll just be a distraction to their work. Especially Freddie. He is the leader of Queen after all and he can’t have his vision compromised by a child. John and Brian will just grow tired of having to watch over a child constantly when they should be focusing on their rifts. And Roger…..well he’s always gotten the girls’ attentions. Eventually he’ll find there are better more flexible girls that won’t have a child to tie him down.”

“But he’s my daddy! He’d never hurt me and mummy.” Paul grinned and chuckled icily.

“To be honest I don’t even know why he calls himself that. He was never your father to begin with. Your real father abandoned you the moment your mother had found out you were created. Roger’s fooling himself because he’s just like the one who abandoned you.”

Caleb looked down sadly and could feel a lump in his throat and start to feel the tears pooling into his eyes.

“Caleb?” soon coming down the stairs was Roger. The second he saw Paul kneeling down before his son, he got defensive. “What’s going on Prenter!?”

“Oh nothing Roger, just asking the little tike if he had a good birthday.” Then like nothing had happened, Paul ruffled the boy’s head before heading on out for a smoke break.  Roger eyed Paul skeptically knowing that something must’ve been up, but he set it aside and knelt down in front of Caleb.

“Your bath’s ready bud, you ready?”

“Can—can mummy bathe me tonight instead?” Caleb asked. Roger was surprised to hear that because bath time was usually their thing (in Caleb’s words, Roger was more fun during bath time when it came to battleship wars)

“Uhh sure. I’m—sure she wouldn’t mind.” Without another word, Caleb raced upstairs.  As (y/n) was coming out of the bathroom, she felt something tackle her almost making her lose her balance.  She looked down to see her son and she said.

“Caleb, what’s the matter love?” He spoke not a word but she did hear a sniffle and soft sob coming out of him.  She knelt down and hugged her son and rubbed her back. At that moment, Roger came up the stairs and just stood there horrified to see his son crying.

(Y/n) shrugged in a ‘I don’t know what’s wrong’ manner but kept hugging and comforting her son.

After bath time thanks to Freddie, Caleb was allowed to sleep in his room while Fred took the couch.  (Y/n) tucked her son in and kissed his cheek.

“Goodnight my sweet prince.”

“Night, night mummy.” He said.  She stood up and replacing her was Roger.

“Sweet dreams monkey.” He leaned down to kiss Caleb on the opposite cheek but to his surprise, Caleb turned away refusing his daddy’s kiss.  Heartbroken but still wanting to show his son some affection, Roger kissed the boy’s temple and patted his arm before standing up.

The two bid the boy goodnight before turning off the light and shut the door.  As the two of them prepared for bed Roger asked.

“Did he say why he was so upset?”

“No. Why did something happen downstairs when you went to get him?”

“I mean I saw Paul kneeling in front of him, if he said anything to him I’ll throw him out the bloody window of the recording studio as soon as we get home.”

“You do realize you guys have the 24th floor of that studio right.”

“So?”

“Roger, I love you but I’d rather not date a convicted criminal.”

“Hey I’d become a criminal if it means protecting you and my son.”

“I know you would love. Let’s—just let him sleep and maybe he’ll come around tomorrow.” She kissed his lips and the two of them cuddled together for the night.

However the next morning Caleb shook his mum awake asking her if they could go home.  Roger and her asked why he wanted to leave so early when they could’ve stayed a couple of weeks there, but the boy refused to answer.  He just clung to his mum and asked if they could go home.

Giving into her son’s request, she packed up the presents and loaded the car up ready to head back to their home in London.  

But when the four boys of Queen went to say goodbye to their number one fan, he hid behind his mum’s legs and clung onto her like a koala.  He refused to make eye contact with them as he got into the backseat and hid under the window.

“What’s wrong with Caleb?” asked Brian.

“I don’t know.” Answered (y/n) solemnly.

“Roger what did you do?” demanded Freddie.

“Me?! I did—”

“Don’t go blaming him Fred, he wouldn’t talk to us last night. But—maybe I’ll get him to talk once we get home. I’ll let you four know when we get there.”

“Okay, drive safe love. And do you—mind if you check in on Veronica for me?” asked Deacy.

“No problem Deacy. I am you guys mid-wife after all. I’ll check on her and see how she and the future little Deacy duckling is doing.” (y/n) hugged all the boys goodbye before leaving Roger for last.

The two lovers embraced each other and Roger whispered to her.

“Please give my love to him okay?”

“I will Rog I promise. You keep making songs and don’t lock yourself in a  cupboard again.”

“No promises love.” She rolled her eyes before kissing Roger softly while cupping his face.  They eventually separated as (y/n) got in the driver’s seat and turned on the engine before finally pulling out of the farm and headed back into the city.

It was Christmas time and the boys were prepping for their live Christmas Eve show at the Hammersmith Odeon to help promote the success for “A night at the opera”.  (Y/n) was getting ready to head over to the theater because afterwards she and the guys were gonna come to the house for a little Christmas gift exchange.

“Caleb love, are you sure you don’t wanna go see the show live?” (y/n) asked her son.  She’s been noticing how lately Caleb hasn’t wanted anything to do with Roger or the guys lately and she was starting to get worried.

“I’m sure mummy. I’ll just watch it on TV.”

“Okay honey, if you’re sure.” He nodded solemnly as he fiddled with his new Star Wars X-wing he got from Deacy as a pre-Christmas gift.  After putting on the last of her makeup, the doorbell rang and (y/n) went over to the door and opened it up to reveal her best friend since childhood Dani.

“Hey girl!” she proclaimed in an ‘I’m here’ fashion.

“Hey Dani, thank you so much for babysitting at the last minute.”

“No worries girl, I love that kid to death, he is my godson after all. Where is the little cutie?”

“He’s in the living room playing.” Sensing her best friend’s worry, Dani asked.

“You okay?”

“Honestly I’m worried about Caleb.”

“What’s going on?”

“Ever since his birthday he’s been acting a little strange lately. Anything having to do with Roger or the guys he’s—he’s been ignoring them or not wanting to have anything to do with them.”

“What? Really?” she exclaimed softly in shock. (Y/n) nodded.

“He won’t talk to me about it and I’m getting worried. What if he’s—”

“Hey, hey, hey don’t think about that right now. I’ll try and get him to watch their live broadcast and see if I can get anything out of him. After all when it comes to the really juicy stuff that gets to him, he’s always told me.”

“What exactly has he told you?”

“I’m sworn under oath to never tell mummy.”

“I’ll deal with you later, but right now I better get out of here if I want to get to the Hammersmith on time.” The two women hugged each other and (y/n) went over to hug and kiss her son goodbye before finally heading out to meet with the boys at the Hammersmith Odeon.

At the theater; the boys had gotten fully dressed and were about to start the live broadcast.  When they heard a knock at their dressing room, Deacy went up and opened it to reveal (y/n).

“Hello (y/n).” he said.

“Hey Deacy, I just came back to wish you guys good luck.”

“Hello my love.” Roger came up and the two of them kissed. “Where’s Caleb?”

“He—”

“He didn’t come did he.” Roger said more as a statement than a question.

“I’m sorry love.”

“Is…..it something I did?”

“Honestly Rog, I don’t know. He won’t tell me.” He sighed and leaned his forehead against hers.

“You don’t think he hates me, do you?”

“No that can’t be it. He’s always loved you Rog. I wouldn’t worry about it now, you’ve got to focus on the show.”

“I know. But I just wish my little bud was here. It—really hasn’t been the same since his birthday.”

“We’ll figure it out soon my love.” She kissed Roger comfortingly and that’s when the producer came in and said.

“Queen, time to get on stage.” The couple separated from each other but took each other’s hands and the five of them walked towards the stage.

“I’ll be watching from right here cheering you four on.” Said (y/n) with a smile.

“We know you will darling. Hope the little darling is watching from home. I’m dedicating his favorite to him.” Freddie said. After Bob Harris gave the introduction, the boys raced on stage and performed their hearts out.

After the show, the boys and (y/n) arrived back at her place and there they saw Dani holding a sleeping Caleb on her lap.  Dani looked and she smiled at the five of them.

“How was he?” whispered (y/n).

“He was an angel as always.”

“Did he watch the concert?” asked Brian.  At that question, Dani looked down solemnly.

“I turned it on but he didn’t really pay attention. I tried to get him to talk to me but he wouldn’t tell me what’s going on.”

“You? His most trusted secret keeper?” asked Freddie bewildered.

“Yeah.” She said as she stroked his head softly. (Y/n) knelt down and gently picked her son up.

“Can I take him to bed?” asked Roger.  His eyes filled desperate to hold his little boy again.  Complying and fearfully thinking this maybe the only time he’d get to hold her son, she handed Caleb over to Roger.

He held him against his shoulder and took him upstairs to his room.  Roger set Caleb down and tucked him in, he reached over and tucked the teddy bear the two of them won at the Autumn carnival last year.  He stroked the little boy’s cheek with his thumb and whispered.

“I love you buddy. Merry Christmas.” He leaned down and kissed the boy’s forehead before sitting up and left his room.  He came back down the stairs and (y/n) said.

“He still asleep?”

“Little guy didn’t even stir. That’s—the first time I’ve ever got to hold him since his birthday.”

“I know Rog.” She cooed as she hugged him and stroked through his long hair.

“Can we place our gifts for Caleb under the tree?” asked Brian.  She nodded and the guys placed their Christmas gifts for Caleb under the tree, as well as the gifts they were gonna exchange to each other in the morning.

“I think I’m gonna hit the sack. We can start the gift exchange first thing in the morning.” Deacy said.

“Oh yeah cause you and Veronica are planning to go to her parent’s for dinner aren’t you?” (y/n) said as Deacy nodded. “That sounds good, we won’t keep you long Deacy. In fact I think you all deserve some rest after the show you all performed tonight.”

“You said it darling, 14 songs, four encores. I’m bloody exhausted.” Freddie said as he sighed heavily.

“Yeah. Goodnight you guys.” Said Brian.

“Night.” Soon everyone went to their guest rooms while Roger and (y/n) went into her room.  As Roger collapsed onto her bed, she got on her night dress and crawled up towards him and cuddled up into his chest.  Roger wrapped his arms around her and he nuzzled into her hair and without another word the two of them fell asleep.

By morning, the sound of little feet pattered towards the master bedroom.  Caleb crawled up onto the bed and began shaking the figure underneath.

“Mummy! Mummy wake up wake up it’s Christmas! Wake up lazy mummy! Let’s go see what Santa brought!”

“Geez bud, you never cease using us as a bouncy castle do you.” At hearing the sound of a male voice instead of his mum’s, Caleb got off the figure and out popped out Roger.

“Sorry Roger.” Caleb said lowly as he couldn’t even look him in the eye.  Feeling his heart clench that his son still wouldn’t look at him, he said.

“There’s no need to be sorry buds. So shall we see what Father Christmas brought you this year?” he asked trying to lighten the mood.

“Maybe later, excuse me.” He then left the room without saying a word.  Roger tried to reach out for him but he knew it was pointless.  He sighed solemnly and put on an old t-shirt and grabbed his robe as he went downstairs.

“What was all that racket I heard upstairs?” asked Freddie.

“Caleb woke up thinking I was his mum. But then as soon as he saw it was me he barely spoke to me.”

“Oh Roger darling.” Freddie stood up and placed a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“He couldn’t even look at me Fred. What did I do to him?”

“I’m sure it’s not something you did intentionally, not like you always do.” At that statement Roger glared at him. “Right not helping. Have some breakfast and maybe head back on up and see what’s going on. Cause more importantly I hadn’t gotten my Caleb hugs from him at all since his birthday and I’ve missed those so much.”

“Glad to see my problem makes you feel more like the victim than I am.” Roger muttered.

“Breakfast is ready!” (y/n)’s voice called out. As the boys of Queen gathered around to make their plates, Brian was setting up the presents so that while they were eating, they could quickly do gifts before Deacy had to leave to meet up with Veronica, their son Robert to head on out to meet her family for Christmas.

“Okay so  I’ll be on the right side of the couch, Deacy you’ll be the left since it’s closer to the door, Freddie you’ll have the recliner, and Roger and (y/n) can take the loveseat.” Brian said.

“Sounds good to me.” Deacy stated as he came up towards his seat.

“Caleb come on down for breakfast love before it gets cold!” (y/n) called from the bottom step.

“I’ll be down soon mum!” he called out but she somehow knew that none of them would see him.

“Okay so….who wants to go first?” asked Freddie.

“I’ll go.” Roger said.  As he went through each gift which included a new set of drumsticks with his name engraved on them, some new tools to help work on his cars, the latest “The Who” record, and some boat/yacht magazines.  It was then he came across the last gift which was just a shoebox with a note that said.

To; Roger and the boys

From; Caleb

“Guys, this is from Caleb. And it’s to all of us.” Freddie, Bri and Deacy all came around him and Brian asked.

“Well what is it?”

“Open it Roger.”

“Alright, alright don’t get your knickers in a twist Fred.” He opened it up but the four of them were shocked to see what was inside.

“Are—are those…..” (y/n) started off.

“It’s all the little trinkets we’ve gotten him from our tours around the world.” Deacy said.  The boys looked at each other worriedly as Freddie took out the tiny cat statue he got Caleb in Japan just last year.  Deacy pulled out the snow globe of the Eiffel Tower that he got in Paris when he was 3 years old.

Brian took out the small spaceship he bought at a giftshop in Washington D.C. for his 4th birthday, and Roger pulled out the picture he had (y/n) take of them when Roger first bought him his first drumkit.  Shaking his head he placed it back and said.

“Okay that’s it.”

“Roger, Roger what are you—” (y/n) tried to stop him but of course when Roger sets his mind to something, there’s no stopping him. When he finally reached Caleb’s room, he walked right on in to see the six year old on his bed twiddling with his thumbs.

“Care to explain this Caleb?” he tried his best to not shout at the boy but his tone couldn’t help but come off as betrayed, angered and heartbroken.  “Caleb why are you giving us back all the stuff that we’ve given you throughout the years? In fact why have you been acting like we hate you?! You’ve avoided us for months, you can’t look us in the eye and you seem to not want to have anything to do with us anymore!”

Steadily Roger’s voice got angrier and angrier. But then just before he could blow off his top, he heard the sounds of Caleb sniffling.  He looked down to see the little boy trying to hold back his tears but they kept coming out in tiny drops, like a loose pipe dripping water in the sink.

Roger’s anger immediately deflated and all that he was filled with now was regret.

“Oh Caleb, ohh buddy I—I’m sorry I snapped at you. I’m so sorry, c’mere.” He picked the boy up and held him close as Caleb finally started letting out all the tears he’s kept in for five months. “Shhhh, shhh. I’m sorry buddy. I’m so sorry. I’m not mad at you, it’s okay, it’s okay shhh.”

“Y-you….can—gonna….leave…..”

“Caleb, pal I can’t understand you right now. You’re too upset to talk, take a few deep breaths with me, okay?” Caleb sniffled but nodded.  Roger set him back down on the bed and knelt down in front of the boy.  

He took his hands and helped guide him through some deep breathing exercises.

“In for three….one, two, three. Hold. Then out one, two, three, four, five. Good, again pal.” The two of them did the breathing technique together then once Caleb seemed to calm down, Roger softly smiled and tucked away the boy’s bangs away from his face. “You okay now?”

“Mm-hmm.” Caleb nodded softly.

“That’s good.” He gingerly wiped away the access tears that stuck to the boys face and said. “Do you wanna talk? I know something’s been bothering you for a while now. Tell me Caleb what is it?”

“I—I can’t tell you.”

“Why can’t you tell me?”

“Because……because…..cause you’ll hate me.” At hearing that, Roger’s heart broke.

“Caleb. You know that I could never, ever hate you. Nothing in this entire world could ever make me do that.”

“But this might.”

“You’ll never know unless you try. Remember when you said you’d never be able to ride a bike? Hmm? Or play the drums? And what did you do?”

“I learned it.”

“Exactly. We never know what will come unless we take the dive and do it. Or talk about it. So come on pal out with it. I’m not a mind reader like Professor X. I can’t look into your head and see what’s been bothering you.” For awhile Caleb remained silent and refused to look Roger in the eye just like before.

But somehow Roger was patient and waited until Caleb finally spoke up.

“Are…..are you…..” he trailed off before looking away.

“Am I what pal?” Roger said as he turned the boy’s head back to him by gently cupping his face.

“Are you gonna forget mummy and me?” Roger was horrified to hear those words come out of him.

“What? No. Absolutely not. What made you get an idea like that?”

“M….Mr. Prenter told me back at the farm that—after this album you, Uncle Freddie, Uncle Bri and Uncle Deacy were gonna be so famous that you’d forget about us. That more girls would come to you and that you would leave mummy for them. And that….you wouldn’t…..want to be my daddy no more when they did.”

Roger was now a field of mixed emotions inside. There was sorrow and heartbreak of Caleb having to think this for over five months, no wonder why he wouldn’t see him or the guys.  But there was also rage due to the fact that Paul Prenter, a grown man had the nerve to actually say things like that to a little boy.

“That son of a…..I know I keep saying but this time I mean it. I’ll throw him out the bloody window!”

At hearing the anger in Roger’s voice and seeing his blue eyes turn ice cold and murderous, Caleb whimpered and started trembling in fear.

“Oh no, no, no buddy, buddy it’s okay. It’s okay. I’m sorry I scared you. Come here.” Roger instantly reverted back to his calm state that he always used with Caleb and he immediately hugged the boy close to him.

He rubbed his back in soothing circles and rocked him back and forth trying to comfort him.

“I didn’t mean to scare you bubs, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, no it’s not. I vowed that I would never get angry around you.” He stroked Caleb’s head before planting a kiss on top of his head. “Listen Caleb. Forget everything that Paul said to you.”

“But…..”

“No buts, as your father I forbid you to mention him right now.”

“But he…..Mr. Prenter also said that you weren’t really my daddy. That my real daddy…..never wanted me.” Roger rubbed his son’s back and said.

“First of all Caleb, I want you to stop calling him Mr. Prenter. Mister is something you only use when someone respects you back. And Paul doesn’t deserve your respect.”

“Then what should I call him?”

“Whatever mean name you can come up with.” Caleb thought about it before saying.

“Poo-poo pee-pee!” Roger laughed and said.

“That’s perfect!” he playfully ruffled Caleb’s head messing up his inherited (h/c) from his mum.  “Now everything that poo-poo pee-pee said to you, is nothing but lies. I love your mother, and I love you. You both are my whole world, sure there have been women while I was on the road trying to get a hold of me but every time I denied them because I already had my best girl and best bud waiting at home for me. And that they are the loves of my life.”

“But when he—said that you weren’t my real father. Is….is that true?” At that question, Roger knew he had to word it carefully because at this point Caleb was still fragile and if he said that what Paul said about Roger not being his real father was true, the poor boy would have a breakdown and feel like he’s been living a lie.

“I can tell you this Caleb. The man who—was with your mum before me. He lost a great opportunity. And his loss was my gain. Because just like Queen, you and your mum are my family. Just like I hope that I’m a part of yours. Family doesn’t always end in blood, it’s the bond we share with each other. And the love we give each other throughout our lives. Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you?”

“Yes daddy.”

“Oh you have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to call me that again.” Roger said as he stroked Caleb’s cheek with his thumb and smiled down at him. “Can I get some lion cuddles and kisses?” Caleb nodded and cuddled close into Roger’s chest.  

He clung onto his shirt before raising his head to kiss Roger’s cheek.  Roger smiled and playfully devoured Caleb in wet kisses making him laugh and try to break free of Roger’s embrace.  Roger chuckled and said.

“Now this is what I wanted for Christmas.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Your hugs and kisses are worth more than any presents Father Christmas can give. I’ve been denied this gift for five months so you better pay me back with as many hugs and kisses you can give me. Deal?”

“Deal.” The two men shook on it.

“Now tell me; who do I love most in the whole wide world?”

“Me and mummy!”

“You got that right pal. I love you so much Caleb.”

“I love you too daddy.” He hugged his father and Roger rubbed his back. “I’m—sorry I hurt your feelings daddy.”

“Shhh, don’t think of it anymore. All is forgiven. So long as you take back your gift.”

“I will. Do—Uncle Freddie, Bri and Deacy forgive me?”

“I’m sure they do. Freddie has been going on nonstop of how he’s missed your hugs. Wanna go down and see them?” he nodded and Roger picked him up so that he hung around his waist and the two of them headed downstairs. “Look whose finally decided to come down.”

“Caleb darling!” Freddie exclaimed.  Roger set him down and Caleb immediately ran up to his uncle Freddie who picked him up and set him on his lap. “Ohh this is what I’ve waited for.”

“You happy now uncle Freddie?”

“Oh darling I am very happy.” As Roger came up to (y/n) she whispered.

“Everything okay now?”

“Yeah. I’ll tell you once he tires from playing with all his presents.” And with that the five adults watched as Caleb ripped open every single one of his presents and was all oooh and awe.

Roger finally got what he wanted and he was so happy to finally have his little buddy back on his side.  Because even though he wasn’t Caleb’s birth father, he still looked at that boy like he was his own son.  And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[wtfzodiacsigns]

Same Signs: Marriage or Murder

Capricorn:

Marriage: You’re the perfect couple. The Prom King and Queen. Super ambitious couple, competitive, probably insta-famous. You really are the sign that can have it all and juggle it all. White picket fence amazingness.

Murder: Y’all can be some inconsiderate motherfuckers. If it doesn’t benefit you, you don’t want it. This can work the same for your partner. Both of you could neglect the relationship and assume it will hold. It won’t. Also, finance struggles are fucking HARD on Caps cause you are all about materials and having the best in life (however you define that).

Aquarius:

Marriage: I’m biased. We’re fucking fantastic. As a couple, you’re the weirdos at a party. You have adorable inside jokes and can go in depth about topics that literally NO ONE cares about. You’re goofballs, and can be ultimately authentic with one another. We also make phenomenal parents because we encourage originality.

Murder: Two things can sink an Aqua/Aqua coupling… our innate need to be one of a kind, and our extreme want of freedom. Aquarians LOVE being different. We thrive there. So if someone tries to top us, or be more original/steal our thunder- MOVE. GET OUT OF THE WAY. Aquarian wrath is rare and therefore strong af. Also if you want to take too much time away from each other, you could experience the severe isolation that only Aquas can feel.

Pisces:

Marriage: Pisces are dreamy and empathetic, so this is a vvvvvvv soft relationship. They can see beauty in such small things. Like, leaving tiny romantic notes around the house, reading Pride and Prejudice aloud to each other, lots of cuddling and soft blankets and clean smells. This couple 100% owns those ‘linen’ scented candles.

Murder: Pisces can be super self-destructive and pity seeking and clingy. They know good things when they see them, but they oftentimes have the mentality of ‘I don’t deserve this’ or ‘I don’t deserve better’ which is why they can find themselves exiting good situations or settling for mediocre situations when they could do better if they just tried. If things were bad, this would be the most depressing couple to be around cause odds are they’d stay together even if they were both fucking miserable because Pisces oftentimes can’t handle being alone.

Aries:

Marriage: This would be a fun af couple. They’re all about doing stuff… no sitting at home for these folks. They’re at wine tastings or a basketball game or a fucking drag show. If something is happening- they are THERE. The intellectual convos between the two will be top notch, and since Aries are proud and determined and strong, this couple could literally take on the world. They’re huge show offs if their significant other does something great. Expect lots of annoying #wcw #mcm posts that are actually hella genuine and pure. In my experience, they also have the best sense of humour, so laughter is gonna be guaranteed with a good Aries couple.

Murder: Don’t fuck over an Aries. Fucking don’t do it ever. Aries know the exact thing you hate most about yourself or a situation, and they will point it out in a fight. So Aries Vs. Aries? Cue the flames. This sign runs hot but is also surprisingly sensitive, and if you hurt them deeply, there isn’t forgiveness. SO this the perfect example of a sign that can find a fault, pin it down, and make their other Aries BLEED. It’s brutal. Also, for being so determined, they can be huge procrastinators, and if their priorites aren’t the same, this could spell murder for Aries.

Taurus:

Marriage: This couple has everything… and they definitely got it on sale. Taurus are really materialistic, but unlike Capricorns, they can never justify spending money on luxury items. So the Taurus’s home is so perfectly curated, but it’s definitely all from Home Goods. They are the ultimate supporter when things are positive… and HOLY SHIT will this be a positive couple. They’re upbeat about everything, including each other. They deal with pain and pleasure in a grounded way, and they’re really adorable when they get excited about something. A very ‘childish fun’ type of couple.

Murder: Hi. Welcome to the weirdest and stupidest fights you’ve ever heard of. Tauruses HAVE to be right. They’re often not. But THEY FUCKING HAVE TO BE. AND YOU MUST SEE THEIR SIDE. YOU MUST. So if two Tauruses disagree about something, good God just let them be. Call the cops, then let them be. Tauruses are just fucking children, so they’re going to fight like children. I’m talking silent treatment, “but she said it first!” kind of asshole fights. Also, they suck if things are negative. If you complain about anything, literally a Taurus will drop you so fast you’ll never see it coming.

Gemini

Marriage: This couple is all about communication, they’re fab with each other about it. Also, Gem/Gem couples are good because they can understand the unpredictability of the other. They’re broad-minded people, and they embrace differences while also being the magnetic cool kids. This is the couple that everyone wants to be friends with because they have the exclusive invites to insider events that they got from some co-worker in the elevator this morning. They’re bizarrely lucky, and also total gossips, which makes for a couple that is NOT for everyone, but actually works really well together.

Murder: These bitches cray. Like, clinically. They’ll do insane things that make no sense, and if their fellow Gem doesn’t approve then they better GTFO. They’re also very quick decision makers, unlike fellow airs Aquarius and Libra. If they don’t like you, you’re dead to them. They will drop you like yesterday’s shirt even if you do something mildly stupid or weird that they’re not a fan of. Like Aries, they can find your weaknesses and prey on them. They will waste NO TIME doing such.

Cancer

Marriage: These bitches sure know how to nurture. In their finest forms, Cancers are basically the physical embodiment of a nice knit blanket and a mug of warm tea. They’re very in touch with their feelings, so heart to hearts with this couple are the best. They will get to know you on a deep deep deep level, and be really trusted with that information. This will be a wonderfully romantic couple who eats takeout like 90% of the time.

Murder: Hello sensitivity. Cancers are the least rational and can get weird about THE WEIRDEST things. I knew a Cancer once who literally ranted for a half an hour because the dishes people were bringing to her Thanksgiving weren’t ‘traditional’ dishes. They were still bringing food… it just wasn’t the food she wanted despite her never saying anything like ‘hey, bring traditional food’. Cancers want you to be mind readers, so if you can’t do that, why tf are you here. They have high expectations of everyone, but ESPECIALLY of other cancers. They’re also clingy af, so even if this couple does break up, they’ll still text flirt for like the next six months. Unhealthy.

Leo

Marriage: This couple is probably famous. They’re HUGE on big, romantic efforts. They want their marriage proposal to go viral on YouTube. They’re also big on events in general… anywhere where they can be seen and show each other off is good. A+ couple to bring to boring work functions… as no doubt this pairing is charming af.

Murder: Holy arrogance. While Leo’s are not necessarily considered clingy, if you don’t show them the attention they believe they deserve, they’ll drop you like a hot potato. With two Leo’s vying for attention in a relationship, SOMETHING’s got to give SOMETIME. Also, they are a jealous sign, so god forbid one of them flirts with someone else at a bar. Fists will be thrown. These are some needy motherfuckers. Also, if a Leo couple is fighting, call the local news crews. Something is GOING to go down. It might be arson, it might be an impromptu theatre performance. Who tf knows.

Virgo

Marriage: The cleanest house ever. Like wtf they keep this place organized. They also dress in matching outfits sometimes and make it weird for everyone else. Virgos can be so analytical that they’ll see something and be like, “Is this what the normal people do?” and just go for it. Slave to trends for sure. This is the ‘old people’ couple out of your friends. They catch up on the latest netflix show and then are in bed by 10pm. You have to plan things with them AT LEAST three months in advance because they are HORRIFIC at texting back. They’re adorable and a little robotic which is just fine for them.

Murder: JUDGE CENTRAL. They’re not always known for it- but Virgos can be hella judgemental. Especially of other Virgos, because they expect them to be better. Virgos expect the top effort, always, and so falling below that line can lead to fights. They’re super goal orientated, and so if they don’t meet those goals, or their Virgo partner doesn’t, then it is certainly game over.

Libra

Marriage: Oh hello there romance! This couple wants their love life to be an actual Nicholas Sparks movie. They both want to be loved more than anything on this planet, so fellow Libras are great for fulfilling that need. They’re soft and lovey and really exceptional cuddlers. This couple are also great at settling arguments. They can see both sides of things, and hate arguing, so disagreements are easily solved. A good libra/libra couple is like a good spa day, just really blissful and relaxing to be around. Refreshing.

Murder: Honestly? This couple couldn’t make a decision to save their goddamn lives. It’s why most won’t work out. Here’s the thing, if a Libra makes a decision, that’s it. They’ve already analysed every possibility. They’ve run the numbers. If someone is their end game, that’s it. Problem is, if the other Libra has not come to that conclusion, you’re gonna have a bad time. This is a stalemate of a couple… and if you’re happy where you are when you start the relationship, it could end well, but if either of you are still in development, it’s best not to even try.

Scorpio

Marriage: Best. Sex. Ever. Passionate af couple taking things to new levels. Trying crazy shit, cooking new recipes, watching porn to find new moves. You constantly stimulate each other both physically and mentally. Another ‘cool kid’ couple, but that’s because they give no shits. If they’re happy together, this couple won’t come down off their high.

Murder: These bastards are VINDICTIVE. If you hurt a Scorpio, you best hope they bury you close enough to the highway that the cops might be able to find your body. If a Scorpio betrays a Scorpio, welcome to the apocalypse. They expect a fellow Scorpio to KNOW that they’re insane, and to KNOW not to cross them. But Scorpios also love pushing people away. They are the ice of the water signs, and much like their totem of the scorpion, they will bite if you get too close. So two scorpions could easily drive each other out instead of just opening up.

Sagittarius

Marriage: This is the couple with their own travel blog. They live out of a fucking van and LOVE IT. They don’t like to be told they can’t do something, so like 90% of this relationship is just pushing each other to do something crazy. It’s basically one awesome game of truth or dare. They always have insane stories, and love throwing dinner parties just so they can sit you down and trap you into listening to said stories.

Murder: Bad Sags are BAD. This is because a hallmark personality trait of these guys is the fact that they believe everyone is dumber than they are. And also that Sags HATE being thought of as dumb. You see the dilemma. Sags are also the flakiest of the signs, so getting two Sags out on a date is gonna be hard enough. They’ll argue about EVERYTHING if they think you’re stupid, so dear Lord, get AWAY if you’re in a Sag/Sag relationship with a power struggle. Because unlike most signs who think they’re right, Sags are RARELY right.

Source: spookyscarysalamander

[heyoricohannah]

Post Bar Mitzvah: Part 1:

It’s been two days since Cyrus’ bar mitzvah took place, and ever since then, Buffy’s been purposely ignoring TJ who keeps trying to apologize to her, and Jonah and Andi have rarely spoken since Andi politely shot him down after the big event.

When they meet up with Cyrus and Buffy in the hallway, Andi can’t stop giving Jonah sympathy eyes, as if it isn’t already hard enough for Jonah to know that she’s there. Buffy and Cyrus heard about the news, really having no choice but to feel sorry for the both of them.

However, right now they all need to focus on the bigger picture, which is how Buffy will soon be moving out of state with her Mom who’s recently returned from being overseas, and when she gathers them together for her ‘big announcement’, they’re hoping it’ll be some good news.

“You’re not moving?!” Andi brightly hopes.

“Nope. Still am.”

“Then what’s this about?” Cyrus sours.

“Until the day comes when I do leave, I’ve decided to make TJ my slave.”

“What?” The others ask in order.

“Why.” Andi asks.

“Why not?! He was nothing but uncivil to me up until the Bar Mitzvah! He won’t stop bugging me, so I told him that if he really wants to make up for his bad behavior, then he has to do whatever I say until I go.”

“Oh...” Andi thinks it over. “Um, that’s fair, I guess.”

“I can see the looks on your faces, why do you have such a problem with it.” Buffy snaps.

“We don’t...!” Andi timidly defends. “We know how awful he was to you, it’s just that, the rest of us have never really had a problem with him personally.”

Buffy scowls. “Yeah, so?! Who cares! What makes me so special?!” She rolls her eyes.

“Okay, well, the point is now, that he’s trying. That’s good!” Cyrus supports.

“He helped me out at the Bar Mitzvah.” Jonah blurts, automatically trying to think of a lie as to why when he’s put on blast.

The only persons that know about his panic attack is TJ, and Cyrus’ Dad, which is how he’s planning to keep things.

“With what.” Buffy asks, watching with the other two as he flushes up and blanks out at the thought.

“Uhhh. He helped me—with—basketball. Yeah. He showed me some moves. It was helpful.” He lies.

“Huh. God forbid he show me some moves. Not that I need his pointers anyway.” Buffy sasses. “Ah. Speak of the devil.” He notices him approaching with her latte.

“Peasant! Come forward!” She orders.

Andi, Cyrus, and Jonah exchange confused glances.

“Here you go...” TJ comes walking up to her, holding out the beverage.

She glares at him.

“Ma’am.”

“That’s right.” She snatches the drink from him. “Two extra shots?”

“Yes.”

“You promise?”

“Yes, Buffy.” He does his best to sound cool and collected.

She sniffs into the small opening of the cup before taking a small sip, swallowing it down and approving of the flavor.

“Very well. You can go away now.” She says, noticing that he and Cyrus are quickly waving to each other before he’s about to take off.

“Don’t wave to each other.” She cringes at them both. “Go! Now!” She motions TJ forward, repeatedly calling him a peasent until he’s officially gone.

She chooses to ignore the stares from her friends.

“Buffy,” Andi proposes.

“What.” She glares over and crosses her arms.

“It’s not that we don’t think should make it up to you, but...”

“It’s just.” Jonah continues for her. “How are you gonna expect for TJ to want to stay nice to you when you’re being, I dunno, what’s the word...”

Her eyebrows sharply raise.

“Intimidating.” Cyrus says.

“Yes. Intimidating.” Jonah agrees, Andi nodding along.

“Guys, me being intimidating shows that this is the treatment he’s gonna get if he wants to mess with me. Think of him like—a dog. The more tricks he learns, the more I’ll reward him.”

“With...” Cyrus asks.

“My forgiveness.” She grins. “Got it?”

They continue to stare at her as she takes a long sip of her latte.

“Mm.” She clicks her tongue. “Scrumptious.”

She smirks at them and struts her way off, the remaining three shrugging and scoffing at each other in regards to the situation as a whole.

“Think she’ll keep this up?” Andi asks.

“It’s Buffy.” Cyrus says. “Of course she will.”

He firmly believes it’s so.

*theme song*

“Pss. Jonah.”

“Ah!” On his way to lunch, Jonah flinches and turns around to see TJ hiding behind the nearest trash can, waiting to talk to him.

“Geez TJ.” He walks over to him. “You almost...”

“Gave you a panic attack?” He tries to joke around.

Jonah scoffs. “Why so discreet.”

“Because, dude, Buffy might see. How have you been, since, you know, the thing.”

“Fine, thanks...” Jonah’s heart pounds at the highly possible scenario of another panic attack taking place.

“Why do you think it happened?”

“I dunno, it’s just, Andi’s into this other guy, and...It’s getting hard for me to admit that maybe her and I won’t work well together.”

“Yeah. Cyrus goes off about you two all the time.”

“What?”

“What? Uh, never mind, gotta go. Stay safe.” TJ takes off, leaving Jonah in the dust about what it is he could’ve meant.

“Jonah?” Andi notices they had finished their conversation, walking over and studying his worriesome expression.

“What were you guys talking about?”

“Oh, you know—Basketball stuff...”

She frowns. “Jonah, I don’t understand how you think we can be in a relationship when you can’t even be honest with me.”

He freezes. “Andi...”

“I’m sorry.” She sighs. “It’s just—I think you should let go of the idea of us.”

“Yeah. I do too...” He admits.

“So why can’t you?” She’s never seen him look so muddled.

“I don’t know...”

She exhales. “You’re gonna be okay Jonah. I just want you to know that you don’t need a relationship to validate yourself.”

It feels great for him to hear that. “I know...And hey, you and that—Walker guy. It’s none of my business.”

She beams. “Thanks. I dunno if things are gonna with us anywhere anyway. I haven’t even found him online yet.”

“I can help you.” He offers, and she’s honestly never felt more flattered by him than she does now.

“Thank you, Jonah...”

He suggests they look for him online in the library, and once she agrees, they head right over.

Part 2:

https://heyoricohannah.tumblr.com/post/183556793856/post-bar-mitzvah-part-2-part

[funkymbtifiction]

Hi, I'm ENFP core 6w7 but I have a hard time figuring out which heart and gut I have and which is second and third between 1w2, 8w7, 8w9, 2w1 2w3 4w5 and 4w3, what can I look for to find out? thanks a lot!!!

That’s… not altogether surprising. Inferior Si is pretty bad with details, Ne-dom relates to everything on some level, and core 6′s can have trouble figuring out their Enneagram tritype. 6′s and 9′s have the most trouble, out of all 9 E types.

You have to look at the head, heart, and gut instincts as separate. They are your METHOD for dealing with logic, emotion, and anger. 

(You didn’t include all of them, but if I don’t include them all, I’ll just get asked.)

GUT: Let’s say someone slanders you. What’s your GUT INSTINCT?

8′s fire back. OH YEAH?? YOU WANNA HEAR ABOUT YOURSELF??? *uses a cannon to kill a mosquito, escalates the episode into a battle* (8w7 may keeps fighting until they win; 8w9 gets tired of it after awhile and quits)

9′s ignore the problem, and hope it goes away, since conflict – ugh. (9w1 may also think it’s a matter of pride not to sink to their shallow reactive level, hence the silence; 9w8 may get mad and blast people after all, then worry about it.)

1′s may either respond, or debate with themselves whether it’s appropriate to respond or appropriate to display their anger in that way; they might wind up keeping their mouth shut, knowing the people who REALLY know them as a good, moral person will not believe the slander anyway; or they might fear that this will damage their reputation and should be addressed in a firm, direct way. (1w2 has less problems reacting and moralizing at people than 1w9, who just wants you to go away and leave them alone, coz you’re ruining their buzz.)

Heart: how are you in your relationships? How do you react IN a relationship? What do you tend to focus on getting and giving from your partner? What’s your actual thought process?

2: if I am a nice, helpful person, I can earn their love. I can be clingy in my relationships, sometimes trying to do too much to please others. I feel disappointed when others do not “do unto me as I do unto them,” but at the same time have a hard time expressing my needs. I feel I don’t deserve to have them filled – it’s selfish to think that way or ask for things. I can clearly see what they need; why is it so hard for them to see what I need in return?? (2w3 wants both you to love them and admire them; 2w1 wants to serve because it’s the right thing to do.)

3: I work hard to keep them interested and impressed with me. I can sometimes boast about how good at things, to cover up my own insecurities. I sometimes like to name drop. It’s important to me that my partner takes me as a successful person. I will become whatever they need me to be, but I also have aspirations. I am going places. I want someone who is also going places. (3w2 wants you to admire and love them, and is more extroverted; 3w4 is more willing to look at their own flaws after reaching their goals.)

4: I’m surprised when people like me for who I am; I expected them to reject me because of *insert thing here*. I sometimes feel like I’m most in love with someone when they are gone – and less in love with them when they are here. I have a hard time looking at them and not wanting what is missing from the relationship. I’ve been accused of not appreciating what I have. But… is this all there is? I want to connect with others but don’t always feel I know how. Maybe if I stand out, if I emphasize something unique about myself, you’ll notice me. (4w3 is more outwardly aggressive and sharing of their feelings; 4w5 is more detached and analytical about their feelings.)

2′s read people’s emotions; 3′s covet approval and admiration; 4′s do neither. They deliberately take opportunities to say, “I’m not like that.”

Head: you are forced to make a major decision at work. What do you do?

5: does all the research, is indecisive and doesn’t want to be rushed, but when pushed to the wire makes a decision based on the knowledge they acquired, an what seems like a safe bet. (5w4 doesn’t consult for opinions; 5w6 does.)

6: analyzes the different possibilities, invites external input, then makes a decision based on what seems like the least-risk-taking method. Cautious and will consult others for their opinions – often reaching a conclusion first, then asking others if it seems like the right choice. (6w5 relies on knowledge also; 6w7 chooses a method that ensures they will not feel ‘trapped’ by the results, leaves an open ending for other alternatives.)

7: considers the best strategy that will require the least amount of labor, and will prevent them from eventual boredom in picking up the pieces. Not big on follow through, and hates being stuck anywhere. (7w6 is more cautious than 7w8.)

I’d suggest thinking about the last time someone crossed or insulted you, and how you reacted. Write down your reasons for doing what you did – as well as what you did, and study them independently. Did you lash out like an 8? Ignore like a 9? Seethe with indignation and try to restrain your anger like a 1? Then look at your last failed relationship. Ask yourself why it failed. How you acted. What you wanted from your partner that they did not give you. What bugged them about your decisions and behaviors. Did you pull them in like a 2? Impress them like a 3? Push them away like a 4?

I discovered I was a 4 when I realized how much, unconsciously over the years, I have always deliberately set myself out to be DIFFERENT from my peers. At 11 or 12, I saw other girls being “silly” and thought, “That’s it. I’m going to be mature and serious.” If they liked boys, I never said anything remotely gushy about boys. If they all wanted to get married one day, well, I didn’t! I’ve noticed I’m still quick to assert the differences between other people and me – especially if they try and tell me who I am. “I’m not like that.” “I don’t do that.” “No, I never feel that way.” Sometimes it’s the truth, sometimes it’s an outright lie. God forbid anyone else on the planet relates to me or is just like me. That was another clue – I could not relate to any of the heart types. And someone laughed and said, “A 4, not ‘relating’ to anything. Oh, the irony.”

So, there’s your insight into a 4, if you need it. ;)

Good luck.

As a fellow 6w7-user, I know the pain it is to find your gut and heart center. ;)

- ENFP Mod

PS: The order of the lower fixes doesn’t matter as much as getting your core type right. You should order them according to which ones influence you MOST.

[boomboombitches-blog1]

Superhuman - Weak

Pairing- Vernon x Fem!Reader  Genre- A little everything Warnings- Shipping, vernon is a total asshole in this chapter ngl, idk tell me if i missed anything plz i think i got everything? Word Count- 3852

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The last boy hesitated to introduce himself after Vernon's clearly agitated growl of his own name. It was almost as if it rumbled from his chest, radiated from his whole body and while you thought it was quiet, it was clear that everyone around the rest of the table had heard it too. Jeonghan, you noticed, looked a bit angry at the boy's tone, eyes narrowed in a focus you recognize as him trying to get into Vernon's head. You glanced at Vernon, only to find his eyes were narrowed at Jeonghan as well. He was impossible to read, there was something unpleasant about him- something that threw you off- but of course you couldn't tell what it was. "Stop." He spoke, tone discordant and harsh. It forced your eyes away from him, so you looked back to your roommate, at whom the demand was directed.

When you looked back at Jeonghan, he was no longer frustrated- more startled. His lips pursed, eyes were wider than usual, and his gaze not once faltered as he curiously stared down the younger boy. Surprisingly, Vernon was the first to look away.

"Sorry." He mumbled, to the surprise and possibly amusement of the whole table. It was wrong of you to judge him, of course, but if you had seen a bear in the woods, your first instinct would be to run. If the bear apologized, you would feel bad- and very confused-, but at least you would've been alive because who were you to know what was going on in the bear's head? How were you supposed to know, with the utterly harsh sense of mortality a bear put off, that it wouldn't kill you on the spot? He had to know of the fire in his cold eyes, the silent threat he forced with only his presence, so he couldn't have been hurt by the astonished stares from around the table.

You noticed Seungcheol protectively sling an arm over the back of Jeonghan's chair as Jeonghan gave a soft, but approving, nod to Vernon. "Hyung." He corrected, voice holding a subtle tone of commandment and simultaneously a weakness, a fear as if he were only testing to see if he could in any way control his younger.

It was silent a few seconds, tension eating away at all of you as everyone waited anxiously for some sort of a resolve for the problem. It wasn't a good thing in any possible way for any members of your team to be this defensive towards one another- especially not this early. Your hands clenched around your thighs thoughtlessly, almost a way to relieve some of the tension though really it did nothing except calm you just in the slightest, giving you a way to transmit some of the fear in your upper body beneath the table, where nobody could see that the tension made you nervous.

"Sorry... Hyung." Vernon said, voice low but without any sarcasm or hostility. His eyes flickered up to Jeonghan's, and Jeonghan stayed quiet, meeting his eyes with a soft tick of his head to the side to highlight the curiosity in his gaze.

Finally, Seungcheol cleared his throat and turned his eyes to the last of the table to be introduced. Everyone else, of course, followed the leader's eyes, including you, and you leaned to glance down at the last boy at the end of the table.

"I-I'm Lee Chan." He said, looking across the table, out the window, at the table- just generally anywhere Vernon wasn't, and he didn't hide it, either. Vernon, as you could see him from the corner of your eye no matter how hard you tried to look over him- pretend he didn't exist- seemed almost amused. You had a feeling you were starting to figure him out. He could've sat somewhere else, but he had clearly intimidated you on your first 'meeting' in the hallway, and he liked that. Now, he had done the same for Chan and he seemed to be greatly enjoying himself because of it. You stayed silent though- forced yourself to bite your tongue because even if he was an asshole, you weren't and there was no reason to start an argument over it.

So you didn't. Jeonghan took it upon himself to kindly re-explain the menu to the boy who had come in late to the cafeteria, while everyone else tucked into their lunch. You did as well, of course, though you ate much slower than the group of food-frenzied men surrounding you. At the very least, you faked more manners than they even attempted to pretend they possessed as they shoved food in their faces, sparking up conversation when they still had food in their mouths. Some part of it was almost charming, how relaxed they seemed around one another (well, most of them anyways.) A few boys, really only Jeonghan and Seungkwan- tried to include you, pull you into their conversations but you had to lean over the table to hear Jeonghan through all the noise and to be included in Seungkwan's conversation (god forbid,) you had to shift closer to Vernon, lean until your ear was practically in his chest and you could hear his heartbeat and feel the cold radiating off his body and his eyes on you- and try to look past him, to focus on whatever the hell Seungkwan and Seokmin were talking about which was very hard when you were in such close proximity of anyone- especially someone you worried might rip your head right off at any moment.

You weren't so afraid of him, really. You felt like you put out more fear than you actually experienced- but he was so unpredictable that your subconscious must've felt the danger and taken matters into its own hands. One minute, the boy was trying to start an argument with Yoon Jeonghan of all people, and the next- with hardly any true encouragement from Jeonghan, he was apologizing and calling him hyung.

Could you be blamed, really, for wanting to avoid most close contact with him? Besides, you didn't really feel like talking. You had stayed up most of the night driving with your mom to get to the school, and when you did get there, you were immediately instructed to drop your bags off with the others and go to the bleachers. Plus, you had exerted a ton of energy battling Rosè and your one hour recovery nap didn't exactly replenish you. At least, you knew, you'd sleep well tonight.

————

"How long are we going to be in here?" Minghao's voice broke the silence that had been holding since the first attempt at fitting 14 people into the room that was hardly bigger than a nice-sized walk in closet when the floorspace was reduced by a bunk bed and two desks. Minghao was seated on the rug, legs folded beneath him as he stared up at the three eldest, all crowded around Seungcheol's desk. Cheol was in the chair, Jeonghan on the desk just above him, and Joshua was in a chair on Seungcheol's other side.

The rest of the large group was scattered around the room- with Vernon and Seungkwan leaning on the wall by the door, Jun and Soonyoung up on the top bunk, Jihoon sitting on Joshua's desk, and the last five of you were squished shoulder to shoulder on Seungcheol's bed. Jeonghan didn't seem to mind that every eye in the room was trained on him, in fact he might have even enjoyed it, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as his own eyes traveled over the 11 youngers waiting for his reply.

"About two and a half hours. That's how long the assembly lasts."

"We can't leave before the assembly ends?" Chan breathed out tiredly from the other end of the bed, and as you turned you watched him lean his head against the bedpost. "It's already starting to get hot in here... There's so many people."

Jeonghan shook his head, clearly recognizing the younger's concern, but there was really nothing he could do about it. Maybe they should've split the group up, but it was best that everyone heard everyones question. In case anyone forgot something important.

"They don't care if you're not in the meeting, as long as you're not walking around the school. They don't want you wandering the halls."

It fell silent for another long pause, and everyone seemed to be waiting for someone else to say something. For anyone else to step up and be braver than they were- ask a better question than they would.

Unsurprisingly, the first to speak was Vernon.

"So what's the point of this school?" He asked. There was a tone in of disinterest in his voice, arms folded across the expanse of his shirt- hiding whatever words were scrawled across the black fabric under his pale skin. "Is there some kind of ultimate superhero battle? Or is there just no fucking purpose at all?"

Seungcheol eyed him almost warningly, but patiently answered his question before Jeonghan could get to it with a soft "no." He spoke, but he quickly corrected himself. "No, Its to help you control your powers. The purpose of the school is to teach you to control and use your powers for good, but in secret. There is a sort of, 'ultimate superhero battle' at the end of the year, but it's for sport. For fun. Like football, kind of. We'll be participating in it, hopefully. If everyone is up for it."

Vernon nodded in understanding, but fell silent once more.

"Are there any like super important rules we don't already know about?"

Jeonghan took back over in answering Seungkwan's question, raising his leg to lay it over Seungcheol's shoulder, and Seungcheol replied by letting his hand rest lazily on Jeonghan's ankle.

"Not that i can think of... You have to be in your room by 9:30. There's no set time for dinner or breakfast but lunch is at exactly 12:30 every day. Aside from lunch, if you miss a meal or feel like eating earlier or later, you're free to. Breakfast is usually at 7 and dinner is usually at 6:30. Classes are always with your team, but the work is usually split by year. There's no homework except anything you don't finish during class time. Don't act up in hall C or the long stretch of hall A because that's where Mrs. Bang Lurks and she hates students so she'll take any and every opportunity to get you in trouble. They don't care who you date as long as you don't lose focus of your studies, so you don't need to worry about that... You can hold hands and stuff just don't hug too long or kiss at all. I think that's... Oh!" Most people jumped at least a bit, eyes shooting up to stare questioningly at the elder boy on the desk. "Uniforms! When you wake up there'll be a uniform in your closet.. your size. They all look the same except there's a colored strip on the pocket over your heart which tells your team. Every team has a different color. Besides that though, you have to wear your uniform to class, but as soon as classes are over for the day, you can wear whatever you want. You can wear pajamas around the school if you really want- just make sure you always wear your uniform to class."

It was clear by the calculating stares, slowly nodding heads that no-one could think of anything else. Practically all of your elders wore the same look, as if they were digging so far back in their minds, looking for anything else but finding nothing. You assumed that if there were any more rules that were particularly important, you would soon find out.

"Any more questions?"

It was silent for a few moments before Seokmin speaks up, asking "What's our color?"

"Rose quartz and Serenity." Came a voice from above, and you glanced up to see Soonyoung looking down with a friendly smile and his head in his hands. His eyes met yours quickly, and his smile widened. Someone, at least, was listening to him. "We have two colors. Seungcheol picked them. They're like... specific shades of pink and blue. Not that you didn't know that already. "

Seokmin's responding smile was radiant, his eyes wrinkled and curved in possibly the cutest display of amusement you thought you might have ever seen and only then did it dawn on you that Seokmin was a second year. He, of course, already knew that. Your lips tugged upwards in a smile that drew a soft laugh from your chest, knees pulling up closer to you as you planted the heels of your sock-clothed feet on the edge of the bed. Your arms wound around your legs, chin resting on your knees as you watched the laughter around the room die down. It had sparked up just after your giggle was released, most of the people in the room ended up laughing- and as your short giggle didn't last very long- you got to observe the other members of your team at their happiest.

Vernon, of course, didn't laugh, instead staring down at the floor in complete silence, face scrunched in effort as if he was trying to block it out. You wouldn't have been particularly surprised if he was. Your eyes continued to trail over your team, watching as they slowly caught their breath, smiles never fading.

————

Morning, you found, was particularly uncomfortable. The window was rather large, and the curtains that Jeonghan had drawn as tight as they could go in order to not let in light- let in much more light than either of you had hoped. You could hear Jeonghan groaning something about 'forgot how bad that actually was,' as he woke up beneath you.

Classes were almost unnecessarily boring, as well. You always hated first days. It felt like you were hearing the same things over and over and over again and you despised it. This school, you found, was no exception. Possibly even more boring considering you had no phone- there was no service this far out in the woods and your mom said it would be best for you just to not bring it, so you listened. Originally, you couldn't imagine how you'd function without a phone but as the day drug on, you found it was probably better that way. You were practically being forced to listen to your teachers, and it- especially in Ms. Bang's class, was horrible. Your uniform wasn't unbearably ugly, though, and you got to sit with your team all day, so it certainly could have been worse.

The classrooms were separated into sections, with four lines of two desks going down. Each year sat in one line, and the teacher taught each different year for about 20 minutes. When your year wasn't being spoken to, you would have to work on papers based on what you had just been taught.

It seemed easy enough- and it was easy. The hardest part of your day was something you didn't remember Jeonghan informing you about. Team practices.

Seungcheol, of course, was the best, the strongest of your team, and you were paired with him. You tried not to take it as an insult- the subtle insult you knew it was, but it wasn't even so much an insult as it was a gentle, quiet 'you're not as good as us.' It was a fact.

Your palms were sweaty- lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed and muscles so sore as you narrowly dodged the ball of ice Seungcheol threw at you. It was your own fault- he hadn't made it to where it would do anything other than knock you over, but in your haste to cool down after the rather impressive amount of exercise you had gotten just in the past hour, you had lowered the temperature towhere his simple, weak ball of water, was a ball of pure ice that could have broken a bone had you not dodged it.

You tried to strike him with a bolt of lightning, but it seemed your aim wasn't as good as you thought it was. Soonyoung, who was off to the back of him and slightly right, screeched and jumped back, hair standing on end. You groaned to yourself as Jeonghan laughed at Soonyoung, trying again only to, again, be nowhere near him. You stopped where you were, eyes narrowing in focus as you held out your fingertip, aiming at the ground beneath his feet- but before you could even fire, he lifted you into the air and slammed you back into the ground. It had to be hard to manipulate gravity so quickly and sharply. You could've commended him- but god were you not in the mood for that shit. It seemed you were simply lucky to have hit Rose at all during your initial battle, and you hated it. You hated being so far below the level of your entire team. Soon, Seungcheol was straddling your waist, hands on your own to hold you still, and his brown eyes bored down into yours with a burning flame of adrenaline.

"Don't stop moving. People who are more experienced can attack in a second- and win. Don't ever stop moving." He advised, slowly starting to move off of you. Your hair stuck to the sweat on your forehead, breath coming out in desperate pants, and he hadn't even broken a sweat. He stood quickly, holding a hand out for you to take- to pull you up. You didn't take it.

Not only were you royally pissed at your own lack of ability and taking it out on him, but you didn't know if you had the energy to stand anyways. Hands planted firmly on the ground, you pushed up to a sitting position and pulled your knees up, acting like you had the strength in your jellly-like limbs. It wasn't hard to see through, though, with the way your body shook in exhaustion. Seungcheol sighed, crouching down to lift you into his arms and carry you over to Soonyoung for a quick energy boost. You argued, weakly beating his chest as you huffed for him to put you down, but he didn't. The rest of the team stood around Soonyoung, most looking at you in disappointment, maybe even concern- except Vernon. He glared at you, and you knew why.

You were weak. You were a waste of their time. If the most skilled on the team couldn't teach you anything after two weeks of practice, you would never learn. It wasn't long before he voiced your thoughts.

"She's weak." Vernon snapped harshly as Seungcheol set you down on the bench, and you remained silent. Soonyoung shot a glare at the younger, leaning down to grab a bottle from his bag. You already knew what it was- god only knew how often you had already had to take it. "Absolutely fucking nothing is working. Clearly, she's not going to learn."

It hurt. Of course it did, it stung so bad because you knew that he was speaking the truth. Seungcheol, the best on the team, couldn't teach you anything in two weeks- who could teach you? You just couldn't seem to learn- there was always something else, something more to remember. When you were thinking about something, how to not make the same mistake you had made in the past, you would make a new one. Then you would stress and forget the mistake you had just made. It was lucky if you got even one attack on him.

"Stop it, Hansol." Seungcheol barked at him. His gaze was trained, harsh on the younger. But Vernon was pissed- he was tired of watching you lose over and over and over again. It was boring and repetitive.

He crossed his arms defensively over his chest. "Hyung- she's not learning! You're not fucking teaching her anything! How many more times am i going to have to watch her fail before you realize that fucking talking is not doing the job!"

Soonyoung gently grabbed your chin, dropping down in front of you and making you look at him as he held the bottle up to your lips.

"Don't listen to them," He spoke, and you tried to focus on him as you took a long drink of the potion, swallowing it with a grimace as the bitter taste strikes you. It lingers on your tongue, distracting your senses for a bit, but you're immediately brought back when Seungcheol jumps up, fists clenched in fury.

"You know what, kid? If you think you can do it better, you fucking train her tomorrow. But stop dragging her down because you're pissed. She's doing her fucking best and she's not weak. She's your teammate, and she deserves a little fucking respect." You didn't mean to cry- not at all, but his words struck you. You understood Vernon's anger, but he was a dick about it and that only made it worse- so Seungcheol standing up for you the way he had left you unable to not cry.

Jeonghan grabbed Seungcheol, mumbling something in his ear to calm him down- and it seemed to be working, but then you heard Jihoon on your other side, voice strong and angry as he spotted the tears Soonyoung tried to wipe off your cheeks. It was growing cloudy, but the rain hadn't started to fall yet. It was late, the only light came from the lights around the field but it was more than enough to light the field- and you were so fucking tired. You just wanted to go to bed, but you didn't say anything, letting Jihoon's voice fill your ears.

"You're an asshole, and i hope you're proud of yourself." He growled. "Go back to your room and go to sleep. I think you need a break."

The rough pads of Soonyoungs thumbs wiped at your tears as you felt your muscles relax a little, the soreness growing lighter- even if just a little. His eyes were soft, warm and reassuring as he gazed up at you. He doesn't need to speak to calm you down, hands dropping to your knees to hold you carefully. His hands were warm, gentle, and he carefully stood up. He started to bend down, to lift you into his arms as your limbs were still burning- shaking even as the pain started to fade- but Jeonghan stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder.

"I'll take her." He mumbled. "I'm gonna go to bed, it's been a long day."

You felt, distantly, his arms wind around you, lifting you against his chest. You were tired. Not about to pass out, but drowsy. It really had been a long day and the potion always made you drowsy for at least half an hour. That night, it wasn't the potion that had caused you to fall asleep in Jeonghan's arms, face resting in the crook of his neck.

Superhuman Masterlist      Part One- Enemy      Part Two- Team      Part Three- Weak

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader - “Curse of The Villain”

For one day in the whole year, villains switch personalities with their significant other: is it the universe’s way to balance itself out or just a coincidence? Nobody really knows but one thing is for sure: all henchmen have the couples they work for on lockdown in Penthouses and hideouts. God forbids they’re unleashed upon the world in the state they’re in!

Today, Wednesday the 18th

6:41 am

You open your eyes, startled by the sudden switch in mood: it’s that magical day in the year when you’ll have The Joker’s personality and he’ll have yours. The King of Gotham is sleeping a few inches away from you and it instantly pisses you off; you are possessive also, but right now it’s off the charts since you feel what J usually fells.

Why isn’t he glued to you?!

You shove yourself into him, your fingers creeping up in his boxers so fast it wakes him up.

“Pumpkiiinnnn,” The Joker whines, uncomfortable.

“Shut up!” you growl. “Everything is mine!!” a crazed Y/N hisses and he tries to move but there’s no way to escape your grip.

“Ouch, that hurts,” he takes your hand out of his underwear and places it around his waist.

“But it’s mine!” you breathe on his lips and cling to him like a spider to his prey.

“You’re suffocating me, Princess,” your boyfriend protests and you just back your head a little bit, enough for him to oxygenate his brain.

“Shut up, I wanna sleep in!” you bite his shoulder, then his neck, the thought of him glancing at another woman making your blood simmer with jealousy so you threaten: “If you even think about cheating on me, I’m going to kill you!!”

“I’m not, I swear. I love you too much,” J kisses your cheek, being the one trying to please and reassure the Queen of his affection this time around.

Bless this curse! Otherwise you wouldn’t catch him articulate the words.

You scoff, annoyed:

“Pfft, love. Give me a break!” the angry Y/N having J’s personality gets worked up. “Love is crap, there’s no such thing!”

“That’s mean…” a hurt Joker kisses your lips, sighting. “You say such mean stuff sometimes…”

Yeah, only one day a year. He already can’t handle his own medicine and it’s just been a few minutes since the curse started.

“Zip it ! I wanna be lazy today,” you cut him off and spank his butt, yanking him in your arms again.

10:34 am

The Joker is definitely not a morning person but today is different: he has your bubbly, energetic personality so he’s all over the kitchen. Y/N is the grouchy one now while waiting for breakfast. Why? Because your boyfriend is cooking and he has absolutely no skills in the field. But since J has your exuberance and positivity, there’s nothing that can stop him.

“You want coffee, babe?” he sweetly smiles and places a cup of steamy goodness in front of the crabby girlfriend.

“I suppose so,” you lift your shoulders up and inquire: “What about my omelet? Is it going to be ready soon? I’m starving !”

“Almost there,” he rushes back to the skillet, adding more ingredients from the bags, boxes and containers scattered on the entire counter.

J is wearing a pair of black sweatpants, his hair gathered in a mini-man-bun-thing, a bunch of green strands rebelliously hanging around his face. He looks quite adorable, not that you would mention anything on the subject.

Not while possessing his temper.

More fumbling around and more condiments sprinkled on top of whatever the amateur chef is cooking, but it seems food is done.

“Here babe,” the dish is finally placed in front of a confused Queen.

It looks like somebody barfed in your plate.

“What the hell is this J ??!!” you ask, disgusted.

“Your omelet, Doll,” he leans over the counter, anxious to hear your opinion.

“Is this…is this corn?!” you play around in the mess, trying to guess if it’s remotely eatable.

“U-hum,” The Joker bites on his lip, waiting for you to take a bite.

“In my eggs?! I hate corn !” you sneer and the smile freezes on his face. “Are these…chopped grapes?!” you poke the mushy, gooey lumps.

“Y-yes,” he gulps, nervous about the eerie tone in your voice.

“That’s gross!” you snap, pushing the plate away.

J gasps, completely devastated at your reaction.

“Can you please try it? I added grape juice too,” a disappointed boyfriend begs, nonchalantly mentioning the ingredient like it’s the most normal piece to add to an omelet. “Took me almost 30 minutes to put it together…”

You have no intention of touching the poison, yet you make an effort because he seems completely overwhelmed. You hesitantly take the fork to your mouth, slowly chewing on the morsel.

“This is the worse breakfast I ever had in my life,” you justly conclude, almost gagging since it tastes at terrible as you thought it would.

The Joker is heartbroken and you can tell, that’s why you decide to cut him some slack.

“You’re lucky you’re cute though, it compensates for your horrible cooking,” you stare him down, mad for some reason.

“You think I’m cute?” he shyly blinks, tucking some of the rebel green strands behind his ear.

“I suppose so,” you sigh, bored with the dialogue.

“How cute?” J impatiently wants to know, starting to eat from your plate like it’s the best culinary achievement of the year.

It makes you nauseated.

“Cute enough to keep me interested,” you mutter. “You know there are other guys on this planet besides you, right? You’re not all that,” the grumpy Y/N brings to his knowledge. “You’re incredibly fortunate I’m still here !”

He stops eating.

“That’s…that’s the cruelest thing somebody has ever said to me…” the mortified boyfriend pouts and returns by the stove, starting to clean the mess he made with his shitty breakfast. He’s silent and keeps on sniffling while you feel strange: it’s whatever J feels when he upsets you and doesn’t know how to make it better.

You get up from your chair and slide between him and the counter, groping him as he sulks.

“What’s wrong?” The Queen demands an explanation from her man.

No reply. He wants to reach for a box of crackers but you trap his hands and place them around your waist. The Joker avoids your gaze.

“Hey, who’s my favorite blue eyed Pretzel, hm?” you get on your toes and kiss the puckered lips.

“Me...” he mutters, finally looking at you.

“That’s right,” you smirk and kiss him again. “Even if there are better guys out there, you’re my guy, ok?”

The grin on his face! Similar to a four year old’s that found his favorite toy.

“Ok…”

“Now stop your nonsense and go change into something nice!” you grope him again and head towards the living room.

12:03 pm

“Nope,” you glance at the new attire he put together. “I don’t approve.”

You already sent him to change clothes twice.

“But what I am supposed to wear, Pumpkin?!” J flares his arms around, frustrated you are so hard to please.

Damn right you are since you have his charismatic personality!

“Drop the attitude!” you growl, pointing the finger at him. “Since you have no idea what you’re doing, go change in pair of black pants and that purple shirt I like.”

“But I think I should…” he tries to have a comeback.

“GO!!!” you raise your voice, displeased with the small rebellion.

He stomps on the way towards the walk-in closet and Y/N is not happy:

“I said drop the attitude!!!”

In 10 minutes he’s back in the living room, only has the pants on and wants to put on the shirt when he sees himself in the huge mirror you two have set up in the living room. The Joker frowns, ditching the shirt on the couch nearby and touches his chest, suspicions.  

“I think I’m getting saggy,” he turns to the left, then to the right, analyzing his reflection.

J has your personality traits so insecurity is included as bonus!

He squeezes his chest together, then flexes his muscles, examining his butt shape too in the process.

“You’re not saggy; you look fine,” you grumble, scrolling through your cell phone.

“Are you sure, babe?”  

“I’m sure; you could bounce a quarter off those buns,” you lick your lips, winking.

The Joker blushes even if you can’t see it with the pale skin tone that never changes color; giggles a bit, wanting to put his shirt on.

“Stop!” you signal him. “Com’ere.”

“What for?” he inquires and places the shirt back on the couch.

“I wanna sit in your lap,” you pat the space next to you on the leather loveseat. “A Queen needs a throne to sit on so don’t make me repeat myself!”

“But I’m busy Pumpkin,” J whines since he wanted to go to his office and research some details about a future heist.

“Busy?!” you sneer. “Doing what?! It’s not like you have a real job!!”

“W-what?...” he stutters, not believing his ears.

“I didn’t think you’re deaf too on top of everything else,” you go back to look at your phone, oblivious to his pain.

You hear The Joker’s erratic breathing and after a few minutes when you look up from your screen… he’s gone.

2:16 pm

You didn’t search around for your boyfriend, but you probably should.

What is he up to?!

Nothing downstairs, so you’re headed upstairs now.

First two bedrooms: nothing.

Master bedroom: bingo.

Two duffel bags on the floor and the noises coming from the closet alert of his presence. J rushes out with clothes and ignores you, visibly distressed.

“What are you doing?” a confused Y/N shrieks.

“I’m leaving you!” J keeps folding the clothes and you mischievously snicker:

“Oh, are you? And where are you gonna go?”

“Anywhere but here!” he stacks pants and shirts on the bed, frustrated.

“Why are you leaving me, hm?” you sarcastically laugh, aggravated at his response.

“You’re mean to me!” he blows the green hair off his face; that mini-man-bun-thing is pretty useless.

“And?” you tap your fingers against your thighs, angered. “Deal with it!”

“I don’t deserve to be treated like this,” The Joker rubs his eyes and you kick one of the duffle bags with all you’ve got. It tips over and a bunch of toiletry items fly around, including a framed picture with the two of you.

He gets flustered and walks towards the door, but you’re faster and block the way out.

“I’m not taking anything then, you can keep it all!!” J pushes his woman but she won’t budge.

“Nobody leaves me!” you mumble through your clenched teeth, shocked he has such a nerve.

Well, it’s your nerve he has and there’s nothing that can be done until the curse wears off.

“Umm…You don’t own me Princess,” he gulps, anxious about what came out of his mouth.

You start laughing like crazy.

“Are you sure?” the laugh abruptly halts and you get in his face: he doesn’t know what to do, intimidated by your cold stare.

Lost puppy look, helpless and defenseless.

It lowers your merciless attack; it’s just too disarming, even if you have his personality.

You exhale, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Hey, who’s my favorite blue eyed Pretzel, hm?”

“Me…” the pouted King reaffirms, skeptically kissing his terrible girlfriend.

“Wrong answer. I have other boyfriends on the side,” the spite returns and J’s heart shatters to tiny, minuscule, invisible pieces.

“You do?!”

“Yeap, you’re not all that, I told you before.”

His vision is getting blurry; J is about to pass out.

“I’m not the only one?!” the shaky voice musters a question.

“Ha! You wish,” you snicker, enjoying antagonizing a worried Joker.

And still…you feel compelled to throw him a bone.

“For a genius, you’re so stupid sometimes,” you whisper and roll your eyes.

“Am I?” he gulps, hoping you were joking when you said you have other boyfriends behind his back.

“You are, but you’re my stupid genius,” you slap his butt and give him a nudge towards the mess he created with his moving out project. “Clean that up and then come downstairs!”

4:51 pm

You’ve been watching TV for a couple of hours, your head resting on his shoulder.

“I want to have a baby,” you blur out and he holds his breath. “Plus, I’m horny and I want to have sex. Might as well try to make a baby,” the Queen’s indifferent tone hurts J’s feelings.

“This is not romantic, Pumpkin. I’m not an object, alright? You can’t use me like a piece of meat!”

“We’ll have a kid, it’s decided,” you continue, disregarding his speech.

“We can’t have a baby; my body will change. I work hard to be fit,” he tries to negotiate his way out of it.

“Your body will change?!” you dig your chin in his forearm. “I’ll be the pregnant one.”

“I know Princess, but it rubs on dads too.”

“I don’t care,” you take off the elastic that keeps together his mini-man-bun-thing, starting to unbutton his shirt. Not too much to do since only 4 buttons are buttoned.  

“Having a kid will make me feel old,” J whines, but unzips your dress nevertheless.

“You are old!” you bitterly underline. “Now try to concentrate so I won’t have to fake it again.”

His eyes get big.

“What do you mean…fake it? You…you fake it, babe?!” The King’s pride takes such a sudden, serious blow he’s about to lose consciousness.

“Duh, yeah!  Sometimes you get soooooo enthusiastic and I’m just done: I want a fast wham-bam thank you ma’am, not a three hour tour de force.”

J stares at the ceiling, then at you, then back to the ceiling, then down at your cleavage, his crushed dignity making it impossible to differentiate between the thoughts running through his head.

Wow, he looks like a total mess. Should you do something about it?...The Joker’s difficult personality you enjoy for the day doesn’t give you too much to work with.

“I don’t fake it all the time,” you lift his chin up without any trace of emotion in your voice. “Just now and then, the rest is real.”

It sounds you’re reciting from a dull poem book.

“What’s wrong?” you try to guess because you want to have sex and he just switched off.

Maybe J took it personally?...How are you supposed to know since you possess his lovely temper?

“Listen here, Pretzel!” you lose your patience. “You’re good in bed, I’ll give you that. But it doesn’t mean you’re perfect. Deal with it and move on!”

Your speech doesn’t have the desired effect.

“I’m not…I’m not perfect?!” he mumbles in a trance.

“You’re not perfect, but you’re lucky you’re cute,” comes out of your mouth and his eyes light up:

“You think I’m cute?”

“Probably. There’s cuter out there but you’re my favorite average.”

“I am?” the silver teeth emerge from behind the innocent smile.

“U-hum,” you caress his face, displeased you have to say such sweet rubbish aloud.

“That’s the nicest thing somebody ever said to me,” The Joker sighs, more in love than ever.

For a few more hours that is, until the curse reverses.

“You didn’t call me Daddy today,” The Clown Prince of Crime gets the courage to bring up what’s been bothering him since this morning, believing he’s on steady ground.

“Don’t push it!” you admonish. “Why would I call you Daddy, hm? You’re not my father.”

J wants to fall back into his depression but you don’t give him time.

“But you’re my favorite blue eyed Pretzel,” you fastly add and he grins, very pleased to be the lucky recipient of his Queen’s quirky affection skills since she’s basically him for the duration of the day.

1:33 am

The sudden switch in your mind wakes you up: you have your personality back and The Joker also returned to the wonderful human being he is on a regular basis.

God help Gotham and his woman!

You have such a headache you keep on wiggling and it startles him. He opens one eye, not excited to be woken up by your fidgeting.

“What are you doing?” he growls, crabby beyond anything you can measure crabbiness with.

“I can’t sleep; sorry baby,” you cuddle to his chest and his hand slips in your underwear. Possessiveness is back full throttle so your butt gets groped and he shoves himself into you, blinded by jealousy.

“If you ever look at another man, I’ll kill you and your body will never be found!”

“I won’t,” you yawn, uncomfortable because he’s holding you so tight.

“Then who’s the blue eyed Pretzel, huh?” he sniffles your scent, antagonized.

“Who?!” you crinkle your nose, confused.

Once the curse ends, villains and their significant others don’t remember what they did or said for the time they switched personality. You only call J the blue eyed Pretzel one day a year and then both forget about it once the curse is gone, that’s why you have no clue what he’s talking about.

Somehow though that got stuck in the back of his mind this time around.

“Is that a code name?” you attempt to guess.

“You tell me, Y/N!!! Are you fucking around behind my back?” he accuses without any proof.

What else is new?!

“Of course not!” you pout, softly kissing his face all over, maybe you can calm down his insane ideas before they blow up. ”I only love you,” The Queen smiles and her King doubts:

“Are you sure?”

“I swear!” you pull down on his sweatpants, hopeful you can distract him from the crazy concepts with sex. “The blue eyed Pretzel sounds like a stupid nickname for an asshole I don’t even know,” you honestly explain.

The Joker purrs a bit, reckoning that after all, his woman wouldn’t dare cheating.

But it’s annoying the moniker popped in his brain!

That blue eyed Pretzel must be such a jerk for bothering Gotham’s royal couple with his insignificant presence!

 Also read: MASTERLIST

http://diyunho(dot)tumblr(dot)com/post/153664676321/joker-x-reader-masterlist

AO3 account - same blog name: DiYunho

[your-kpopmama]

1000 Follower Drabble - #1

Song Rec: WHAT IS LOVE - TWICE

Word Count: 3534

Genre: Fluff/Comedy/Slight NSFW

Pairing: Some Jin x Reader - Some Jimin x Reader - Yoongi x Reader

Type: Kissing Booth/Festival

AN: I really ran with this one. Oh my god. I didn’t think it was this long.

Frustrated, you sighed for what felt like the millionth time. From the front seat your mother clicked her tongue in a disapproving way. You knew you were getting on her nerves, but you couldn't care less. Today was your only day off work in two weeks and she was dragging you to this festival that she had volunteered at for the day. She didn't expect you to do anything, other then to 'enjoy yourself' as she stated, but how would you even be able to do that? You are  tired. You are grumpy. On top of it all, she forced you into this dress that you weren't too sure about. Don't get it wrong though, it looked great on you, but it was a bit much for a festival. It was more or less a dress you wear to go get fucked up with your friends and to be thrown on some random guys bedroom floor later that night. It wasn't entirely family friendly, but your mother insisted.

Sighing again, to prove to your mother just how displeased you were, she finally snapped and turned around. "Honestly, yn! Stop with the sighing! It's just one day. God forbid you spend one day with your mother and father. You work so much we never see you. It will not kill you." the last sentence coming out in a huff as she turned back around in the passenger seat and you rolled your eyes.

Being in the backseat of your fathers sedan made you feel like you were in high school all over again. Being dragged around everywhere without giving your parents the consent to do so, but merely going out of guilt. They were good at that - guilt tripping you. If there was an Olympic sport for it, your parents would take home gold every four years and still make you feel bad for it somehow. It wasn't like you didn't love them, because you did. You loved them more than anything, but you felt suffocated when you were around them too long, which is why you went to college abroad for two years. Then the guilt trips happened, and you ended up transferring to a small college and finishing your last two years within your parents grips.

Gazing out the window you could see the rides spread periodically through the festival grounds. Not many people were here yet since it was opening day and everything was still being set up. However, the smell of different foods came wafting through your rolled down window, instantly making your mouth water. You hadn't had a chance to eat yet thanks to your mother, and boy were you feeling the effects of it.

As soon as your father pulled into his parking spot you opened the car door and leapt out and told your parents you were going to get something to eat and you would find them later. Your mother gave you her signature pout and your father just laughed and waved you on, muttering something about your deadly sin being gluttony - it wasn't a lie - you were a foodie and you had no shame in it.

Walking through the stalls that were lined up you looked over all the things that people were selling, yours eyes spotted a clothing booth. You were not about to be caught in this dress all damn day long with these god awful heels. Your hands traced over the different fabrics lightly, looking for something suitable to wear. You supposed you wouldn't find anything non-traditional to wear here though. Most of everything you saw were Hanboks and you would rather wear your dress.

"Seeing anything interesting?" a younger woman came out from behind a small curtain, a friendly smile on her face.

"No offense, but this isn't exactly what I was looking for. I need something other than this dress to wear and I'd rather not walk around in a Hanbok." you smiled sheepishly at the girl who just chuckled.

"I get it. We look about the same size. I'll swap clothes with you. I have a clean outfit in the back. You can have that if you give me your dress." she shrugged.

"Deal." you said quickly. She nodded with a smile and disappeared again behind the curtain. A few moments later she came back out with several clothing objects in her arms and a pair of brown ankle boots. She handed them over to you and instructed you on where to change your clothes. You thanked her and promised her you would be back in a minute.

Locating hte nearest bathroom you ran in and locked the door, stripping off the dress as fast as possible. You eyed the pair of light blue jean shorts skeptically, hoping that they weren't too short, but found yourself surprised when they fit perfect and your ass wasn't hanging out. You rifled through the clothes and pulled out a plain white tank top and yanked it on quickly. She even gave you socks. Wow this girl was amazing. You pulled the socks on and then placed the boots on your feet before standing up to gather the rest of the clothes on the bench. She had also given you a dark green and black flannel, which you tied around your waist as you were walking out of the bathroom. Not looking up, you ran into something - or rather someone - hard and ended up falling on your ass.

"Shit! Are you okay?" you heard someone ask. You looked up and saw a man standing there with his hand outstreched towards you, offering you help. You placed your hand into his as he pulled you up from the ground. He looked you up and down making sure you weren't hurt or bleeding anywhere.

"I'm alright. Sorry, that was my fault." you smiled slowly up at him. He was a bit on the tall side - then again everyone was taller than you. He was practically all shoulders too, but it looked good in his tight black tshirt. The thing that stuck out the most though, was his light pink hair, but he pulled it off oddly. You nodded slightly to yourself in approval.

"I'm Seokjin, or Jin rather." he flashed you a wide smile and you felt a little flutter in your stomach.

"I'm yn." you offered your hand out and he grasped it in his and instead of shaking it like you thought he would, he lifted it gently to his lips and kissed your knuckles. The butterflies were having a hay day in your stomach right now. You felt a small blush creep up your cheeks and you looked away when he made eye contact with you.

"I would stay and chat, yn, but I have to get to my booth with the other two guys I'm working with today. Hopefully I will see you later." he winked at you before he walked past you. He was gone as fast as he appeared, leaving you a bit flustered.

You returned to the younger woman who was running the Hanbok stand and gave her your dress, repeatedly thanking her for giving you her clothes. She slipped you a hair tie as well, saying your hair was a bit much for the outfit. Which you couldn't even argue with her, it was. So you pulled it into a ponytail and went to enjoy the rest of your afternoon.

Not keeping track of time, you spent the afternoon trying all the food stalls that you could possibly handle. And when you thought you couldn't handle it anymore, you somehow found room in your stomach for more. You did stop off at your mother's booth though, so she wouldn't give you a guilt trip all the way back to your apartment. She wasn't thrilled about the outfit you were wearing, but you lied and told her you spilled food on it and someone was nice enough to give you a change of clothes. She accepted it, even though you knew she was going to complain about your clumsiness later.

The day went by quickly, and when night time rolled around, is when things started to really get interesting. More people showed up, but there were also dance shows, live music, and talent acts. You couldn't lie and said you didn't enjoy yourself, because you did. You had more fun than you thought you would.

You were hanging around a food stall when you heard a group of younger girls giggling while they ate ice cream. Parts of their conversation flowed towards you and you picked up on a few choice words. 

Pink hair. Broad shoulders. Kissing booth.

You were intrigued. You walked over to them to question them about anything fun to do. Immediately they all suggested the kissing booth. "There's three extremely hot guys running it. It's definitely worth the money you pay for it." the short one with bright red hair said. You thanked them and made your way towards the back of the festival where the booth was supposedly located.

You weren't expecting the three long ass lines that awaited you though. Girls - and some guys - were lined up, excitedly talking about the guys that were waiting at the front of the line in their respective booths. Walking up to one of the lines at random you took your place. 

You spent the better part of twenty minutes playing on your phone, following the line not really paying attention. It wasn't until someone coughed to get your attention did you look up from your phone to realize it was your turn. Your cheeks flushed red and you stepped up to the booth quickly. A boy with black hair and a snapback was smiling at you, his eyes turning into cute little crescent moons as he did. "Hey! How are you doing today? You enjoying the festival?" he asked. 

"I'm great, the line was a bit longer than I expected though." you laughed leaning your elbow against the counter with your chin in your hand. The guy smiled and scratched the back of his neck.

"Yeah, we didn't really expect this kind of turn out. We were volunteering for the place where we work to get some funds to help with development costs. We exceeded our expectations." he took a pause and laughed before sticking his hand out, "I'm Jimin by the way."

You placed your hand in his and shook with as you introduced yourself. "YN? Huh, that's a really pretty name. It fits." he flirted causing you to blush a little bit.

"Can you hurry up?! Other people have been waiting!" someone from behind you shouted causing you to jump. You turned around to see a girl a bit younger than you standing there with a wad of bills in her hand. You shake your head because she was just two lines over when you got here, already making her way for the line beside yours. She's a repeat. 

Rolling your eyes you turned back towards Jimin and pulled out your money and slipped it into the jar sitting beside him. Suddenly you felt nervous. It was just a kiss. You've been kissed plenty of times, but then again you've never had to pay for it before. What kind of kiss was it? Just a peck? How long did it last? You weren't sure, and you were overthinking it and he could tell. Jimin just laughed and leaned forward, "Relax." was all he said. You nodded and leaned forward as well, his hands reached up and cupped your cheeks and placed his lips against yours. Your stomach erupted in butterflies as his plush lips pushed into yours. After about ten seconds he pulled back, his eyes were still closed. You could feel the heat radiating from your stomach clear to the tips of your ears.

When his eyes finally opened, you weren't fully prepared for it. He looked in total bliss. His pupils were slightly wider and his breathing had picked up a tad. You tried to fight off a smile, but it didn't last long. Your face was pulling a full blown grin. Jimin started to laugh and he covered his face with his hands. "Wow. Okay, that was amazing." he said.

"Get out of the way! Your turn is over!" the girl behind you yelled and pushed you out of the way, walking up to Jimin who looked at a loss for words suddenly. You just sighed and waved, as you walked backwards to leave. He waved back and turned his attention back to the greedy girl in front of him.

You started to walk away from the kissing booth area when you heard your name called, "YN!" looking towards the sound you saw Jin waving to you like a maniac from his booth. You smiled and waved back, walking towards him when he started to beckon you to him. He currently had no line so you walked right up to him.

"Glad you stopped by! I don't think I told you what kind of booth I was working though. Oh, maybe it was fate by chance that you happened to walk by?" he asked leaning towards you with a smirk.

Laughing at his antics you shook your head, "No, I actually heardsome girls talking about this place and they described you as one of the people working and I had to check it out." your honesty surprised him.

"So, you came to give me a kiss?" he winked.

"I would be lying if I said no. Though, I'm afraid I spent my last bit to kiss Jimin over there." you shrugged your shoulders.

"Jimin!? He's been ultra popular today. I just don't see it." Jin said sticking his nose up into the air, pouting.

"I'm sorry. THere was so many people and I just picked a line. Then I was shoved out of the way by some rude girl. Seriously, these girls are crazy." you stuck your thumb up and gestured in the general direction where they were crowding around Jimin currently.

"Well, since no one is here to see it, how about I give you a kiss for free?" Jin offered.

"Sure." you said and shrugged. Jin's eyes lit up as he leaned against the counter on his booth, meeting your lips with his.

His kiss was a lot different than Jimin's. It was more...sweet? You weren't sure. It was almost like kissing a puppy. Not that it was sloppy or anything, but it was cute and innocent. Jin pulled back first with a lazy smile on his face. "How was it?" he asked.

You sucked in your bottom lip while you thought of how to respond and finally you decided on sweet. "It was sweet." you said laughing at the offended look on Jin's face.

"Just sweet? I didn't leave you wanting more?" he asked incredulously.

"Sorry, it takes a lot to leave me wanting more." you teased. Jin nodded for a moment in thought. He suddenly sat up and snapped his fingers, eyes lighting up like Christmas.

"I know who can do that." he offered.

"What makes you think I want that?" you joked.

"Why else would you be here?" he countered.

You couldn't argue with that logic. Kissing Jimin had left you feeling a little bit excited and you weren't known to lie about how you felt. So you told Jin you would allow him to try and 'wow' you. He just smirked at you and walked out of his booth. A few seconds later he appeared in front of you and grabbed your hand and pulled you behind the line of booths. He walked you up to the middle door and knocked on it quickly. The door opened to reveal a boy about your height with reddish brown hair covered up by a snapback like Jimin's was.

"What Jin?" he asked grumpily. He didn't look like he had been enjoying his time working here, unlike Jin and Jimin.

"Yoongi, Close down the booth. We're done for the night. However I have a proposition. I promised this girl, YN," he pulled you forward Yoongi could see you properly, "a kiss that would leave her wanting more. Since Mine apparently didn't do it for her. And you are by far the best kisser." Jin stated simply.

Yoongi looked at you up and down before turning back to Jin, "Are you pimping her out?" he deadpanned.

"WHAT!?" Jin shouted looking scandalized. "No! Look, she just came for a kiss, that's all. Give it to her. I'm not charging you to kiss her and vice versa. So just, you know, work your magic." Jin stated before pushing you gently towards Yoongi and into his booth.

From outside the booth Jin announced that the KIssing Booths were being shut down for the evening and closed the front of the booth's, leaving you and Yoongi in almost pitch black, aside from a little lamp that was placed inside the booth. Suddenly you felt awkward and unsure of what to do. You could tell Yoongi also felt a bit awkward.

"Look, you really don't have to do this." You offered, holding your hands up.

"I know. You don't have to do this either." he retorted.

"I know." was all you said. You looked down at your shoes shyly. It was silent for a few minutes, and you were debating whether or not you should just leave, because it didn't seem like Yoongi was going to make a move.

As you turned to reach for the door handle, Yoongi's hand shot out and gripped your wrist gently to stop you. You looked up startled and he had a small smile on his face, "You don't mind do you? I honestly saw you waiting in Jimin's line earlier and thought you were the prettiest girl I had seen all day. I was kind of hoping you would come to my booth. Then you walked by without even a glance in my direction," he sighed, "then you walked to Jin's booth. I felt kinda left out." he confessed.

"That's...wow. That's honestly so sweet." you said honestly. When was the last time someone other than your dad call you pretty? Most of the guys you dated or occasionally hooked up with never complimented you. It was nice for a change. "So are you gonna kiss me or what?" you breathed.

That was all it took. Yoongi pulled you flush against his body, his hands moving to cup the back of your head, fingers intertwining in your hair as his lips pressed against yours. You leaned into him, into the kiss. Your hands finding their way to his hips where they rest softly as your mouths moved against one another. His tongue swiped your bottom lip once, asking permission. You allowed him to deepen the kiss, fighting back against his tongue with your own. Yoongi pulled you with him until he was sitting in his chair. You straddled his lap, returning to the kiss. His hands gripped your hair while yours were making their way up his shirt, trailing your nails down it slowly.

Yoongi let out a small moan, setting off a blazing fire in you. You never knew something could sound so good. His hands slid from your hair and down your shoulders to the bottom of your shirt. He removed it swiftly, then allowed you to remove his. HIs hands, greedy, searching traveling all over your body until they finally rested under your breasts. His hands cupped them gently, then more forcefully, earning a moan from you.

HIs lips traveled from yours down your neck and across your collar bone. He kissed his way down to the tops of your breasts that he still had in his hands. Hands that were now sneaking behind your back to unhook your bra. Before he could though, your phone rang startling the both of you. 

You jumped back and dug it from your back pocket to check the caller ID. It was your mom. You looked at Yoongi apolegetically before answering, "Hello?" you asked breathless.

"Yn? Honey where are you? It's time to leave." your mom asked through the phone.

"Huh? Oh, I'm walking towards the front now. I'll meet you by the car." you said quickly and hung up not giving her a chance to sat anything else. "I'm sorry. I have to leave." 

Yoongi stood up and picked your discarded shirt off the floor, "It's alright. Can I get your number though? I would like to continue this some other time...if you don't mind that is." he asked shyly.

"I'd love to." you took the phone he had held out and entered your contact information and pulled your shirt back on. You grabbed his face and kissed him quickly before running out of the back door to the booth, leaving Jimin and Jin with questioning looks as you ran past them.

You were glad your mom guilt tripped you into going to the festival today. You would have to thank her later.

[onemuseleft]

Fic: Afterparty, 1/1, Voltron

This is for @maplerosekisses who had a rough day and wanted Keith to have a happy birthday.

Title: Afterparty Pairing: Keith/Lance Characters: Keith, Lance, Shiro Rating: PG-13 Notes: Mild spoilers for season 4 if you know what you’re looking for. Completely unapologetic fluff. Team as Family. Shiro adores his stupid paladins. They Are Going to Have a Serious Adult Discussion About Their Relationship. Brief warning for Keith’s dirty mind, but no actual sex. Summary: “Thank you for the party. I know it was your idea.” “It was a team effort. And you should really be thanking Shiro because he was the one who forbid us from jumping out at you in the dark and yelling surprise at the top of our lungs.” “Yeah, it would have sucked to accidentally kill all of you on my birthday.”

****

The party had long since ended and the others drifted off to bed – or Pidge's workshop, as the case may be. The rest of the cake had been packed up and carried away to the kitchen, but everything else was how they left it – streamers and confetti and a banner almost as tall as Lance was that read Happy Quiznaking Birthday Galra Keith! in two foot tall multicolored letters.

There were plates and cups everywhere, and despite Shiro's best intentions there were still scraps of wrapping paper and ribbon all over the floor. Keith's gifts were stacked in a heap on the far end of the couch – the black leather combat boots Shiro had had commissioned for him, the matching jacket Allura had given him. Coran had presented a datapad with a complete history of the Altean Empire as narrated by a significantly younger and more scantily-clad Coran (seriously, if Lance was the jealous type they'd have a problem right now) and Hunk had offered to cook for Keith any five times of Keith's choosing. The dirtbike Pidge and Matt had built him was propped against the wall in the corner of the room, waiting to be moved to Red's hangar in the morning.

Keith wore Lance's gift: a silver chain, with a charm in the shape of the Voltron symbol, carved out of a blue stone that shimmered slightly in the light. Lance had almost changed his mind at the last minute but Shiro had seen it and convinced him Keith would like it. And Keith had certainly seemed to, pulling it out of the box, eyes wide and lips parted slightly. He'd held it in his palm for a minute, running his finger over the pendant before pulling it over his head and wearing it for the rest of the night.

Hours later he was still wearing it.

Keith had sprawled out on the couch with his head in Lance's lap a few hours ago. He'd been a little overwhelmed, had been all night really, ever since he walked into the room, saw the decorations, and asked them what was going on.

Lance sighed and ran his fingers through Keith's hair. He knew, intellectually, that Keith hadn't had a family growing up, but the blank look of surprise on his face when Shiro had informed him that it was a party for his birthday... It should have occurred to him that no one had thrown Keith a birthday party since his father died, but somehow it hadn't. Not until the look of shocked gratitude had come over Keith's face and Lance had to pull him into a bear hug or completely lose it.

The others had noticed too, and Hunk had taken it upon himself to guide Keith through the stages of a surprise party, so subtle and cheerful that Keith hadn't seemed to notice that Hunk was basically holding his hand the entire time, escorting him through the steps of this particular social interaction. God, Lance loved that big teddy bear.

At some point Keith had fallen asleep and the others had drifted away until it was just the two of them on the couch, surrounded by decorations and gifts.

Lance was starting to fade himself. It had been a long day after a stressful week. He'd wanted this to be good for Keith, had wanted to do something to show Keith how much they appreciated him. Shiro hadn't wanted this party, had warned them Keith might not like the noise and the fuss but had caved under Lance's assurances that they'd make sure it was something Keith would enjoy. The need to make it perfect, to do right by Keith and to make sure he didn't disappoint Shiro, had run him half ragged.

And the gift... He'd probably stressed as much over that as anything else. He could admit to over-thinking it a little.

But now the pendant hung around Keith's neck and Lance had caught him touching it over and over again all night with an expression Lance thought (hoped) meant he was pleased.

“Take a piece of me with you,” Lance said. He skimmed his knuckles down the line of Keith's jaw, brushed his thumb over Keith's bottom lip. “Maybe the next time you get your head up your ass you'll see it and remember someone loves you.”

He didn't hear Shiro until he leaned over the back of the couch and hooked an arm around Lance's neck. “I think after today he'll have a harder time forgetting.”

Lance turned his head to grace Shiro with a grin. “Remember who we're talking about here.”

Shiro gave Keith a look that could only be described as fond. “He's learning.” He turned his gaze to Lance. “He fought it, for a long time. Even after I met him. He'd learned the hard way not to trust and I think he'd started to believe that he wasn't the sort of person who belonged anywhere. Or with anyone.”

Lance skimmed his fingers over Keith's cheek. “Idiot.”

“We all try to protect ourselves.” Shiro gripped Lance's shoulder and squeezed. “You were right about tonight. It was a good idea.”

“I get why you weren't sure. I didn't, at first, but when I saw his face.” Lance sighed and spread his fingers flat over Keith's head, stroking his hair. “If I think too hard about how he grew up I'll just end up going back to Earth to kick someone's ass.”

“I think Allura wouldn't approve,” Shiro said dryly. “Come on, sleeping on the couch isn't going to do either of you any good. You need help getting him back to your room?”

“Nah, he wakes up pretty fast.” Lance hesitated. “I just don't want to move him quite yet.” It wasn’t rational, but he didn’t want to take Keith away from the party yet, not when he’d been so happy. Keith didn’t get to be happy as often as he should.

“All right. You know where I am if you need anything.” Shiro paused, then his grip on Lance's shoulder tightened. “Thank you.”

Lance shrugged. “Hunk did most of the planning, really.”

“Not for the party.” Shiro looked down at Keith who hadn't so much as twitched during this entire time. It was either a testament to how tired he was, or, more likely, how safe he felt. “For the look on Keith's face when he opened that necklace. For the way he laughed when you tried to hand feed him a piece of cake the size of his head. For the way he's asleep right now, with his back to an open room and no weapon in his hand.” Shiro shook Lance's shoulders. “I could not have asked for someone better, Lance. If he was going to let someone in, I am so damned glad it was you.”

Lance froze, his hand trembling against Keith's hair. “Shiro.”

Shiro leaned in for a second, his voice soft enough that even in the stillness of the room Lance could barely hear him. “Don't you dare tell me he could have done better.” He squeezed Lance's shoulder. “I don't take kindly to people talking shit about my family like that.” He stood and stepped away. “Get some rest. I canceled hand-to-hand training for the morning, but you're not getting out of maneuvers after lunch.”

“Got it. We won't be late.” Lance lifted his head. “Shiro. Thank you.”

“Don't be stupid,” Shiro said. “And fair warning, no one's getting any breakfast until we help Coran clean up in here.”

“Can we take Keith's new dirt bike out for a spin after maneuvers?”

“Not until Allura checks it for explosives,” Shiro said. He flashed Lance a rueful grin. “I mean it, get some sleep. I'll see you guys tomorrow.”

Lance sat there for a long moment after Shiro left, listening to the distant creaks and rattles of the castle at night, the soft sound of Keith's breath. He wasn't sure what to do with this information, with the confidence and gratitude that had been in Shiro's voice.

It wasn't like he'd thought Shiro hated him or anything – they were friends and they worked well in combat and Lance had no illusions that if Shiro had honestly thought he was bad for Keith Shiro would have done something about it long before this. Possibly shot him out an airlock or something. But he had worried, a little, that Shiro didn't think he was good enough for Keith. He hadn't realized how worried he was about that until just now. It wasn't until he basically had Shiro's blessing that he realized he'd been half braced for a shovel speech for months now.

“I probably would have cried,” he admitted to the empty room and he had to laugh at himself.

Keith stirs at that finally, shifting onto his back to blink up at Lance. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Lance skims his hand through Keith's hair. “You ready for bed, sweetheart?”

“Yeah.” Keith sat up a little and scanned the room. “Nice. We trashed this place.”

“Don't tell Shiro but there is absolutely cake on the ceiling.” Lance grinned when Keith tipped his head back and almost fell back into Lance's lap. “Okay, when Keith the ninja cat burglar can't keep his balance, it's definitely time for bed.”

Keith narrowed his eyes at him, but didn't argue when Lance urged him upright. He did leaned heavily into Lance's side as they made their way to their room, his head on Lance's shoulder and his arm around Lance's waist.

Lance tugged Keith's jacket off his shoulders, pulled his shirt over his head. Keith grimaced at him as his hair fuzzed around his head with static electricity. But when Lance tried to lift the pendant over his head, Keith caught his hand. “Leave it,” he said. “I like it.”

Lance's eyes flickered over the dark blue stone resting on Keith's sternum. It did something to his heart, to see his color against Keith's skin. It did something to other parts of his anatomy too, but it'd been a long day so he ignored it. “I thought about having them make you a red one instead.”

“Yeah? You should take me there.” Keith looped his arms around Lance's waist and pulled him closer until they were pressed together, the pendant caught between their chests. “I think red would look good on you.”

It felt like a lot more than a necklace when Keith said it in that tone. “I think red suits me pretty well,” Lance said. His voice was dry and he licked his lips. “I like the way blue looks on you.”

“Yeah?” Keith smiled, lazy and sweet. “Imagine how it'll look on me the next time you fuck me.”

Shit, shit, Lance couldn't unsee that now. The dark blue stone against Keith's pale skin, flushed red and sheened with sweat, slipping back down toward his throat with each heaving breath. Lance's color, there for anyone to see, proof that Keith belonged with him, that Keith had chosen him. He closed his eyes and forced himself to think calm thoughts. “You're terrible.”

“Yeah, that's not really news,” Keith said. He kissed Lance's cheek. “Thank you for the party. I know it was your idea.”

“It was a team effort. And you should really be thanking Shiro because he was the one who forbid us from jumping out at you in the dark and yelling surprise at the top of our lungs.”

“Yeah, it would have sucked to accidentally kill all of you on my birthday.” Keith grinned. “Always listen to Shiro, he's the boss for a reason.”

“I'm glad you had a good time. We all just wanted you to be happy for a little while.”

Keith hummed. “Lance. You know I'm happy, right? It might not be the same kind of happy that you feel, but I am happy now. Here. With you and the others, with Voltron.”

“Good.” Lance's voice was a little husky but he swallowed hard and shook his head a little. “The emo moping was getting a little old.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “Come on, I'm getting cold. Get rid of your clothes and come to bed.”

They stripped and cleaned up quickly, and Keith even conceded to sit patiently on the bathroom counter while Lance carefully massaged lotion into his face and throat. They traded slow, lazy kisses afterward, Lance standing between Keith's legs, until Keith pulled back with a sigh. “God, I'm getting old, but I think I want sleep more than sex tonight.”

“Birthday boy gets whatever he wants,” Lance said. “But I will absolutely make a number of crude erectile dysfunction jokes tomorrow, I want that understood.”

Keith grinned. “If you do it in front of Shiro I'll fucking kill you.”

“No promises,” Lance said. “I can't control when inspiration strikes.”

Keith heaved a heavy sigh. “I could have had my pick of the Blades but no, I had to go and fall in love with a fucking comedian.”

“You picked good,” Lance said. He got his hands under Keith's thighs and hefted, lifting him off the counter and against his chest. Keith blinked at him, but didn't flail or startle, just hooked his legs around Lance's waist and his arms around Lance's neck. “Their jokes might have been better but they couldn't possibly have loved you as much as I do.”

Keith kissed him, just a brush of lips over Lance's mouth, soft and... not chaste, not exactly, but gentle. “It doesn't matter anyway, because once I knew you I couldn't want anyone else.”

Lance sighed into the kiss. “It would have been nice if you'd told me instead of letting me think you hated me for two years,” he said. He tightened his grip on Keith and carried him across the room to the bed. “Lotor knew you liked me before I did.” He let go, intending to dump Keith onto the mattress, but Keith didn't let go, pulling Lance down on top of him with a startled shout and some manly and dignified flailing.

Keith rolled them over until Lance was beneath him. “If you mention Lotor in bed again I'm dumping you.”

Lance grinned, big and stupid and happy. “No you won't.”

Keith blinked down at him, then a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “No, I won't.”

“Come here.” Lance tugged Keith down until his head was on Lance's shoulder, legs tangled together. He tugged the blanket up over them and gave the computer the command to kill the lights. The room went dark and he felt Keith relax against him.

Keith ran his fingers down Lance's stomach, nails just barely scratching over his skin, hard enough not to tickle but not hard enough to leave a mark. “Shiro was right, you know.”

“Hmm?”

“I heard what he said back there. About me, not wanting to change. I'd learned my lesson a long time ago.” Keith reached for the pendant, curled his fingers around it. “And then one day I woke up. I don't know what it was but I just. Saw. All of you. And I knew I could have everything if I was just willing to risk it one more time.” He was silent for a long minute, but his breathing was easy and his body was still relaxed and warm against Lance's, so he held his silence and waited for Keith to find the words in his own time.

“Friends. A team I could trust. A place I was wanted and not just useful. Shiro. And you,” Keith added, a little roughly. “The chance that I could have you was worth whatever happened to me.” He slid his arm around Lance's waist and turned his face into the curve of Lance's throat. “It still is.”

The enormity of that felt like it could crush him, if he let it. Lance was still and quiet for a moment, counting the beats of Keith's heart against his side, each soft breath against his throat. He thought about what it must have cost someone like Keith to admit that out loud.

Lance has never been alone in the world. Even in the early days of Voltron, his family may have been a million light-years away but they’d still been his family and he'd had Hunk, had known Pidge and Shiro and Coran cared about him. He couldn't imagine what it was to be completely alone in the world, to know there was no one out there who loved you enough to come looking for you once you were gone.

He couldn't imagine how hard it must have been, to let the seven of them in and risk being rejected or abandoned again.

“Nothing's going to happen to you,” he said finally. “I won't let it. I won't let anything take me away from you, you know that right?”

“Nothing would dare.” Keith's voice is low, rough, and there's a shiver in it that makes Lance pull him closer, but he doesn't doubt the promise in Keith's words.

[camille-marshall-blog]

Challenge #3

Alternately Titled: Focusing on the Present (and other gifts)

a/n: Heyoooo, happy holidays everyone! Dropping this little fic for Challenge 3! Hope you’re having fun during your winter breaks!! By some Christmas miracle, I actually had time to chill and write this soooo yay! Hope you enjoy this one!! Thank you so much to @jace-bennett​ for the RP!! The shopping was fun! Anyways, again enjoy and I’ll see you guys around! (4,394 words)

I thought that I would get used to this whole being Selected stuff, I mean… I’ve been here for nearly 2 months- but everyday I still wake up with a heavy feeling in my chest and a guilt that I was somehow not meant to be here. Was I meant to be here? I know there have been moments that made me feel like I had a place here, moments of neon lights and forgotten bowling shoes, the times that reminded me how to laugh between pages of a library book, instances of rubber soles crunching against the ground, and whispers lighter than a feather during shared meals. I was beginning to feel connected to the people I was meeting in this palace, but not without a price.

Despite this guilt, I still continue on with this Selection and try to perform everything to the best of my abilities. I think I’ve been making progress with the people here, actually having the courage to stay in the women’s room to mingle sometimes. It was just hard to get close with other people when you’re so used to moving around- no relationship was permanent.

But against my instincts, I’ve been lately taking choices that made me feel more comfortable around these people. Just a few days ago I agreed to join a Secret Santa, and that reminded me of another thing that helped make me feel better.

There’s magic in the air when the calendars shift from November 30 to December 1. It’s like when everything in the world tends to get a little better because the holidays were fast approaching. As the song really went, it was always the most wonderful time of the year, and the holiday season has never failed to lift my spirits up.

I’m not going to deny it: Christmas is and always will be one of my favorite holidays EVER, and one of my favorite activities definitely had to be Christmas shopping.It was more on seeing the sheer joy in the eyes of the people I gave gifts to, and the way my heart leaps when I know that I made my friends happy.

This year, I was not planning on missing out on one of my favorite holiday activities, so I informed my guard friends that I was going to go out of the palace to go Christmas shopping yesterday, and I luckily got the approval to head out on my own.

I walk into the garage, wearing my own civilian attire. I needed a breath of fresh air from the palace. This morning, I wasn’t feeling like my best self again, so maybe a little reminder of Christmas was going to help me feel better.

Just as I was looking for a set of keys in the garage, a voice from behind startles me.

"Umm are you looking for something?”

At the sound of the voice, I jump and put my fists up- almost out of instinct, just in case of an attacker, but I immediately relax at the sight of a confused looking Jace Bennett standing right in front of me.

“Oh whoa, it's just you Bennett.” I comment, relaxing myself and standing upright again.

“What are you doing?” he asks me, reaching up for his own car keys. Wait… was he going out?

“I need a ride to the city... and I was told that I could borrow one of the cars here.” I answer, putting my hands again in my pockets.

He raises his eyebrows at me, “Yeah sure, I'm leaving I can take you if you want.”

I didn’t even ask him for a ride, but it was definitely decent that he was offering me one. “Huh, thanks. I’d appreciate it.”

“Where exactly do you want to go?” Jace opens his car’s door, ready to leave.

“Eh, depends on where you're going…” I open my own door, “You aren't by any chance passing by South Coast Plaza, are you?”

“It's a little out of the way but I can take you. Are you just in the mood to go shopping?” he asks me as I get into his car.

“Kinda, more like Christmas shopping.. we've got a secret santa among us Selected girls going on right now. Thanks a lot though… Are you sure I'm not bothering you?”

“What are you planning to get?” Jace nods as he starts the car, “No not at all, I was just going home because there was nothing else for me to do here. This is actually giving me something to do.”

“Thanks a lot.” I say as I put my seatbelt on (who knew how safe of a driver he was), “I'm getting A book for the person I got, and a couple more stuff for friends.”

“The secret santa thing sounds fun. So I'm guessing you girls are getting along well?” Jace asks me as he pulls out to the driveway.

“You guess right, I think everyone's becoming really close with each other... at least.. that's what I hear is going on in the women's room.”

“Are you not becoming close with them?”

“Oh I am, I have friends here.” I shake my head, trying to prove to him that I wasn’t as anti-social as most people thought, “I just don't visit the women's room a lot.” I explain to him.

“Ooooh got it. what else do you guys do? Like how do you spend a whole day at the palace?”

“Well, there are lessons for half the day with your mom, we talk about all those etiquette and royal protocols one of us would be using in the future. She's definitely... enthusiastic about etiquette.” I snort, remembering the morning lessons with Jace’s mother, and how much she reminded me of one of my old drill sergeants.

Jace laughs as he drives, “That's just the way she is. At least the ones who won't become one of the royals will know how to eat a meal properly.”

“I think table etiquette's kinda common in this day and age, I mean... even I learned some twisted form of it way back in military school.” I add to him, feeling a little defensive. God forbid that the few of us not born into fame and royalty didn’t know how to differentiate the fish fork from the salad fork.

“And now you are getting the full blown version of it.”

“Definitely a full blown version,” I laugh a little under my breath, “with an instructor who's just as fierce as any drill sergeant. So, what do you do? Like on a normal day, whether it's in or away from the palace, what do you do?”

Jace Benett was more like an anomally in the palace- a figure you hear about from others’ experiences. I always wondered what he usually did in the palace other than hang out with the prince. From what he’s told me himself, Nate was busy a lot, so my curiousity got the best of me when I ask Jace that.

“Hang out here mostly,” Jace shrugs, “There is something always going on which always keeps me busy. But at home I don’t do very much, like I have other friends other than Nate which I hang out with but most of the time I’m just chilling in my room or when I can convince my mother to let me go on a trip than I do that.” he shrugs again, “I don’t have that exciting of a life.”

“Jace Bennett, not having an exciting life? I find that difficult to believe.” I raise my eyebrows at his admission, “Sounds like you have a lot of fun though.” I contradict, looking at the boy in front of me- he didn’t seem like the type to describe his life as anything but exciting.

“Yeah I get to do whatever I want whenever I want to do it.” he agrees.

I decide to go back to answering his first question, “That's cool... so continuing that answer to your first question, the Selected usually get half the day off so I kinda do anything that makes me a little more productive. The guards have a small training center underground where I can practice my marksmanship... I go over old war stories in the library... anything that makes me feel like... I'm doing something.”

“Marksmanship? What’s that?” Jace asks me.

“Umm.. uh... shooting guns... Can't get rusty while I'm here in the palace.” I shrug. Call me a workaholic or whatever, I just don’t like doing things without having a purpose, there always needed to be an end goal. Exploring the subterrainian levels of the palace had helped me discover some of the guards’ training centers. All I knew was that I stood an 18 to 1 chance of getting deployed after this Selection.

Jace nods, “Makes sense, are you good at the whole shooting guns thing?”

“I think I am, I mean.. it's all about practice and aim, and learning how to work with different kinds of guns... the ones in the palace are the same as the ones in my old base, so it's really just for polishing on old skills.” I explain to Jace, before realizing how weirdly specific I was getting with him.

I shake my head with a laugh. “Wow, I must sound like some psycho to you right now.”

Wouldn’t want my possible husband’s (okay not really my possible husband- we went on one date) best friend to think that I’m crazy.

“No you aren’t it’s your job, as long as you aren’t a serial killer than you’re good.” I was technically trained to kill for the military, did that count? I hope it didn’t.

“I can confirm that I am definitely not a serial killer.” I shrug, “So Bennett, where do you like to take trips to? You seem like the traveling type.”

“Really anywhere. I have gone all over the world, I like water and deserts the most. I have joined Nate and Mr. Schreave on business trips a couple of time but those are boring.” Jace shares with me.

My eyes widen in surprise and I’m trying to hold back a laugh, “Mr. Schreave? You call the king... Mr. Schreave?”

Oh wow, yeah- call the commander-in-chief Mr. Schreave- that sure sounds right to me.

“Well... yeah... I can’t just go calling him Spencer. When I was little I wouldn’t go up to him and be like ‘Hello your highness may you give me a piggy back ride please?’ Mr. Schreave is more on my level.” Jace laughs, explaining to me.

“You have a good point, but now,” I burst out laughing, “I can't get the mental image of the king giving piggy back ride to a little Jace out of my head.”

“He did it more than you’d think,” he laughs along, “He’s the best, he always puts his family first.”

“I could tell, it rubs off a lot on Nate too.” I reply, realizing they both had the same magnanimous aura.

“Nate is like the perfect person.” Jace says rolling his eyes, and that catches my attention.

I’ve heard so many describe his perfection, maids, guards, staff, other Selected… and now his best friend. A part of me wanted to believe all of their praise but the other part reminded me that no person could honestly be that perfect.

“He's sweeter than most guys I've known, that's for sure.” I comment about Nate, mentioning the aspect that I liked about him the most. There was compassion in that soul.

“He’s okay.” Jace remarks, and I laugh again in response- typical boy reactions. Of course they share some form of self-deprecation for their friends.

“Okay seems like an understatement for him,” I shrug almost defensively, “Then again you're his best friend.”

“It’s how best friends are, how about you what’s yours like?” Jace remarks before turning the conversation back to me.

“I've technically got 5 best friends, to be quite honest. You see, all of us belong to the same junior air squad and have been working together for the past two years. There's Lip Gloss, Wolf, Drone, Ears, and Crab.” I smile as I mention them, I missed them a lot. “I'm closest with Lip Gloss though.”

Jace laughs and raises his eyebrows, “Lip gloss?”

“Cassandra, that's her real name, nicknamed her that when she cried on the first day of military school when our instructor confiscated her lip gloss. We went to the same military school together, so we've been friends for a long time. She... was the one who was pretty excited over this whole Selection thing.” I missed Cass a lot, still do.

“She seems like... quite the person.” He comments, “The person I know who would cry over lip gloss is Mallory.”

“Mallory, wow, I've heard stories of her from the other girls- a lot are terrified of meeting her.”

“Just follow these rules don’t talk to her from 9-7, don’t be wearing the color white, make sure you have taken a shower within 3 hours and don’t offend her and she’s the kindest person you have ever met.” Jace jokes and laughs hysterically.

I can’t help but laugh as much as he was, “Oh my god, that is so specific.” I wheeze, “Is she that terrible?”

“She’s not that bad, just don’t get on her bad side and you’d probably be good.”

“Or you know... avoid her so I don't get to see either side” I shrug laughing, “Actually, I really haven't seen her around save for meals in the dining hall.”

“She think she likes to stay in her room, I’m not sure. I’ve never been close to her.” Jace remarks.

“But I do know you're close with Nate's other sister, right?” Now this was definitely a loaded question. I remember one of the Selected girls wondering if Jace and Quinn were dating… and well- curiousity got the cat right now.

“Yeah I guess you could say that.” He says nonchalantly.

“I haven't met her either, but I've heard good things about her.” That was the truth, everyone has said that Quinn was quite gracious. ((GET IT CAUSE… GRACE IS RP-ING HER?? HAHAHAHAHAH))

“She’s a good and kind person.” He’s practically turning red right now.

“I bet she is,” I smirk, I always enjoyed teasing people with their better halfs so I added another loaded question. “So have you gotten your girlfriend a Christmas gift yet?”

“Not yet, I’m not sure what sh...” Jace says before realizing what he was saying to me then giving me a death stare. HA! There it was, he just admitted they were dating.

“Gotcha” I wink at him, faking discretion, “You can go shopping with me if you want. South Coast Plaza is pretty big.” I tell him, maybe wanting to use his free time to go shopping too.

“Sure, you should help me decide what I should get her.” I’m surprised at how easily he trusts me, and a part of me is internally laughing. Wow, even in the Selection I still manage to wingwoman.

“Great,” I clasp my hands with a nod, “I definitely could.”

“What do girls even like?” Jace curiously asks me.

“That... kinda depends on what she's like... honestly. It's always good to base it off her hobbies, but you can also find something a little more personalized and stuff.” I explain to Jace. Getting presents for girls was just the same as any present for anybody else. It had to be personal- plus it didn’t help that I didn’t know Quinn personally.

“She is really into drawing so maybe pencils?” Jace asks me, and I nod.

“Drawing... yeah, pencils seem like a good idea- the collectible kind seems like a great idea, along with a sketch book.. or something.” I affirm adding a few suggestions. The thing with relationships and Christmaswas that… it doesn’t matter what kind of gift is given… it was more on letting the person know you care and as much as this made me sound like a Hallmark card… it’s the thought that counts.

My personal dilemma was that I wasn’t sure if I’d overstep any boundaries if I was going to get Nate a gift- because I had no idea what I was doing. I’d have to think about it, now I was here to shop for my Secret Santa and friends.

Jace nods, “Okay,” he says as he parks the car and quickly jumps out of the car, “so where do you need to go?”

“So I have to get my secret santa a book at Barnes and Noble... and I'm getting matching pajamas for all of my friends sooo that's probably going to be at PJs'r'Us” I elaborate to Jace. I was planning on getting a nice book set along with a couple of matching pajamas for my friends in the Selection… and five more matching pajamas for my friends in South Korea.

“I suppose, we'd come across a craft store somewhere here for Quinn's stuff.” I tell Jace.

“Let’s go to your stores first because you wanted to come here.”

“Alrighty,” I say as we begin walking around the mall. “So... do you go Christmas shopping every year?”

“Nothing too big and special.”

“But it's Christmas! It's the most wonderful time of the year, shopping is one of the best parts.” I feel like I personally should defend Christmas.

“We’re not really big gift giving people, like we can get whatever we want whenever we want it, so why have someone gift it to you.” Jace explains to me, and I understand where he’s coming from.

“Ahhh, right... yeah, I guess that's kind of the life of the rich and famous.” I shrug, “Everything's just at your disposal.”

If only all of us were born into a life like that.

“You seem like you are very much a gift giving person.” Jace comments to me.

“I give when I can,” I laugh non-chalantly, “Christmas shopping is basically the only real shopping that I'm interested in honestly.”

“Yeah you don’t seem like the stereotypical white girl, like shopping is everything. Like you fire guns because you can” Jace adds, and I laugh.

“Not like a Stereotypical white girl, huh? I'll take that as a compliment. You're not so stereotypical yourself.”

“And how so?” he turns to me.

“You're nicer than what I expected, I mean, you offered me a lift here, and all that. I was kinda expecting a pretentious rich kid.” I reply to him, honestly telling him my impression of him at first. I was kinda expecting a fuck boy, but I found a much more decent personality in him. No wonder he was best friends with Nate.

“Thanks...? I’m pretty sure you aren’t allowed to take palace cars anyway but no problem if you ever need a ride let me know.” Jace gives me a wink, and I nod with a laugh.

“Well, who needs Uber when you have Jace Bennett, right?” I definitely could save a couple dollars of with my new chauffeur.

“It’s free and won’t be 100% awkward.” A very convincing sales pitch, that was.

“Oh definitely, best ride ever.” I chuckle in response before I see a Barnes and Noble ahead. “Oh hey, I see a Barnes and Noble!”

The rest of the day Jace and I spent going through the mall and buying what we were going to give other people. I bought a nice Jane Austen book set for my Secret Santa, a shit ton of pajamas for all of my friends, while I was able to help Jace pick out the coolest set of chrome painted coloring pencils for Quinn and a sketch book with 500 leaves. What I found remarkable was how easy it was for me to get along with him.

“Thanks again for going with me, Bennett.” I tell him as we walk out of the mall, carrying our Christmas haul.  

“No problem, I’m just going to drop you off then head, just so you know.”

“You don't need to, you know. I mean, you've done more than enough.” I shake my head with a laugh, “You can go ahead, I'll just grab a taxi or an uber or something.”

“No no it’s fine, it’s not that long of a ride. It’s really no problem, I could always run back in there and see... Nate”

“Sure... Nate.” I laugh, way to be reaaaal subtle, Bennett. “Your one and only best friend.”

“The one and only.” he laughs.

The mention of Nate reminds me again of my dilemma. Throughout our entire shopping trip, I had been debating on whether or not I was going to give Nate a gift and in my head were dozens of possibilities of what I was going to get him, but…

I’m not quite sure if giving a gift gave the right message… for the reason that we weren’t exactly that close, and it may just seem like overstepping some kind of personal boundary for both of us… or worse, looking like I’m assuming something between us that may not exist for him.

It was only just one date- but I still held a lot of confusion in this continuous limbo of single and not single, and dating and not dating. This was why I hated dating- the uncertainty, the internal mind games, the war fare that only I could only see. I felt like we were pretty okay… but also not okay? He may think that the gesture was meant to win his affection, but honestly, I don’t think I could care any less if I won his affection now- okay maybe I should because I think I kinda like him- BUT THERE WERE 18 OTHER GIRLS TOO.

Feeling like an option sucked, but what the hell, I’ve got nothing to lose.

“Speaking of him...Do you know what he'd like for Christmas?”

He flashes me a surprised look before he starts the car, “Not really, maybe he’d want some guitar picks, don’t you need those to play guitar?”

“Guitar picks, right, I think I can find them next time I go out…” I nod my head wondering if I could order something online just on time for Christmas. I remember, he loved to play guitar and all that music stuff. It was just going to be a little something for someone who’s shown me nothing but kindness. That’s it.

“It’s something small but I think he’d really appreciate it.” Jace tells me, and I nod my in reply still caught in another mental debate with myself.

For the rest of the short drive we stay silent, listening to the back to back Christmas songs playing on the radio. When we both arrive back to the palace, he helps me unload some of my bags from his car.

“Thanks again,” I smile, “for everything.” I take the bags from the back.

“No problem, again if you need a ride let me know.” Jace tells me as we walk towards the door to the palace connected to the garage.

“I will... OH by the way, in case I forget.” Or you know get eliminated before Christmas, I separate one of the gift bags I got and hand it to Jace.

“Merry Christmas, Bennett.” I managed to sneak an extra pair of christmas themed pajamas for Jace while I was shopping for Ears, Drone, and Crab (and my brothers too, because even those assholes deserved Christmas gifts).

“Merry Christmas Marsh.” He replies as he holds the bag.

“So, I'll see you around, thanks again!” I wave my hand before I walk straight for the door and run to my room to hide all of the gifts in my closet. The holidays have just begun. 

[isabelmarantachat]

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Greensboro and Surrounding

Junk Doctors does their best to ensure that your items find a new home other than the landfill. As our team loads the truck they sort items to determine what should be donated, recycled, or disposed of. Items that are donated will be taken back to our sorting warehouse and then delivered to a local charity. Two- of the charities we work with are Habitat for Humanity and Freedom House, among others. We try to work with locally based charities instead of very large ones. Our reasoning is that local charities are less top heavy so a higher percentage of the revenue your items bring in goes to charitable causes compared to some of the larger charities. Habitat is the exception as we have been very happy with their services at both our Greensboro and Raleigh location.

Yard Address718 East Montana Drive CharlotteNorth CarolinaUnited StatesZIP: 28216Phone Number(704) 659-1482Fax NumberNAEmail info@junkdrs.comWebsitejunkdrs.com Sl NoMaterial NameElectronics1Circuit Boards2Printers3Refrigerators4TelevisionsMetal5Appliances

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