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#but maybe i can let him and the other grandparents [already present] be exhausting at each other.
unopenablebox · 2 years
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taking a selfish 2 hour break from my mediator job (“being related to these people”) to write fanfiction
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Light in the Dark
Summary- Sirius and Remus both have trouble sleeping. But maybe they can find solace in each other.
Written for Marauder's Advent 2022! My character was Remus Lupin, and my prompt was Bluebell Flames.
Rated T.
Remus was sleeping. 
Correction, Remus was desperately trying to sleep but was not sleeping, not this close to the full moon. He would toss and turn, his body aching, his mind even more restless knowing what was coming in a few days. That was the most challenging part for him. The physical pain he could compartmentalize, break it out into bits and feel it, then heal it. The mental anguish though…he still hadn’t figured out how to snap shut the lids of the boxes in his brain that stored the fear, anxiety, and dread that came with his monthly transformations, which was why he just couldn’t get any rest. 
James and Peter were home for the holidays already. Sirius and Remus were going to meet them at James’, hopefully, the day after the full, three days from now. Mr. and Mrs. Potter didn’t exactly know about Remus’ furry little problem, and Sirius had convinced them that he was just staying on to keep Remus company until Remus’ parents returned from a “holiday” with his grandparents. Obviously a lie, but it was easier that way. There was no way they could tell James’ parents anyways, so a little white lie wouldn’t hurt them, and Sirius would still be home with them for Christmas. 
Finally, after what felt like hours of turning over and over on his now very rumpled sheets, Remus opened his exhausted eyes and realized he was facing Sirius’s bed. The first thing he noticed was the light coming from the slightly open curtains. Sirius never slept with his curtains open. He closed them so tight at night that nothing could possibly get in or out, and Remus knew he spelled them shut. Sirius had always told them that he “needed his privacy if you catch his drift” at night, and comments like “nobody loves me like I love myself,” coupled with lewd hand gestures, had been enough of an answer that no one had even thought to ask any further questions. But Remus was still surprised to see light from what had to be a Lumos spell coming from the end of Sirius’ wand piercing through the heavy drapery. 
Remus sat up, his feet hitting the floor, the only sound in the room. He was used to Sirius’ silencing charms as well, but not hearing the other boy breathing in such a quiet room was setting Remus on edge in a way he hadn’t really considered before when James and Peter were also present. Realizing that he simply wasn’t going to get any rest tonight (and worried about Sirius), he grabbed a book from his nightstand and padded down the stairs to the common room to read until breakfast. 
“Morning, Moony,” Sirius said as he sat down next to Remus on the leather sofa facing the now-dying fire. “Rough night?” He lifted the still-open book off of Remus’ chest and set it on the coffee table in front of them. 
“You know, everything just aches,” Remus replied, sitting upright, trying to stretch his arms over his head and wincing as he did. “I saw your wand light before I came down. Are you really that fond of the way you do it that you can’t stand to do it in the dark?” He chuckled. 
Sirius’ eyes grew large, and a faint bit of pink began to creep into his cheeks. “Well, like I’ve said a million times, I’m a gracious and caring lover. No one-offs in the dark for me,” he said, winking at Remus. 
“Right, no one knows how to please Sirius Black like Sirius Black does, right?” Remus smirked a little out of the corner of his mouth. 
“Exactly,” Sirius replied, all bravado again, nothing left of the shy blush that had painted his cheeks only a moment earlier. “Get dressed, Moons. Let’s go down and get you some tea and something to eat. You’ll feel a little better with something in your stomach.” Sirius moved to stand up and extended his hand to Remus to help him off the couch. 
Remus took it, shaking his head a little. “Such a mother hen, Sirius.”
  “Just when it comes to you, love,” Sirius replied, following Remus up to their room to change. 
It was night again, the moon just scant of full. Remus was unsurprisingly restless. He hadn’t even bothered to close the curtains of his four-poster bed tonight. And again, he saw wand light coming from Sirius’ side of the room. In much the same way he had done the night before, he put his feet on the floor. Instead of heading to the common room, however, he made his way over to Sirius’ bed and pulled a tiny sliver of the draperies open. The sight before him made Remus’ heartbreak, and he immediately pulled the curtains open and began trying to figure out how to save Sirius. 
Sirius thrashed in his sleep, his wand limp in his hand, but the light from the end flashed like a party strobe light all around him. Sirius' mouth was open in what looked like an anguished cry, and Remus realized that yes, Sirius was indeed screaming, but he had clearly set silencing charms. Remus thought for a brief moment. His mother had once mentioned that you shouldn’t wake a sleepwalker, but Sirius wasn’t a sleepwalker. He was clearly just trapped in a nightmare. Remus grabbed Sirius’ wand, and it immediately felt comfortable in his hand, unlike other times he had held another wizard’s wand. He cast a quick but very effective Finite Incantatem. The light from the end of the wand went out, and Sirius’ shrieks pierced through the dead silence of the room. Remus sat there on the edge of the bed stock still for a moment, not one hundred percent trusting what he was about to do, and then decided he didn’t have a choice and put both of his hands on Sirius’ shoulders and tried to shake him back into the waking world. 
Almost immediately, Sirius' grey eyes opened, and almost just as quickly, Remus found himself beneath Sirius with a wand pointed to his throat. Sirius was breathing heavily, his pupils dilated, his hands shaking while holding Remus by the neck and keeping his wand in a ready position to kill. 
“Sirius, Pads, you’re ok. You’re here, at Hogwarts, with me. You’re safe. You’re alright.” Remus managed to choke out. He watched as Sirius’ eyes began to soften and focus, turning quickly into a look of shock. 
“Fuck!” Sirius yelled, throwing himself off of Remus and huddling in the corner of his bed, knees to his chest and hands tearing at his jet-black curls. 
“Sirius,” Remus said gently, reaching for him only for Sirius to recoil in apparent disgust, and Remus pulled his hand back immediately.
“Don’t fucking touch me.” Sirius snarled. “I don’t deserve it. I’m not worth it…I’m filth…I’m…” he trailed off, muttering to himself. 
“Pads, let me help you,” Remus said, not reaching out with his hand but with his now cleaved-in-two heart. “Please. Please let me just… I lov…” Sirius didn’t let him finish before transforming into Padfoot and leaping off of the bed, and sprinting out of the door. 
Remus sat in Sirius’ bed, surrounded by the smell of him, for a few moments. It smelled like sweat, fear, and loneliness, and it broke Remus’ heart the longer he sat there. He shook his head, stopped by his nightstand, and opened the drawer. He saw the gift he had been working on for Sirius and decided now was as good a time as any to give it to him, raised his wand and shrunk it, and walked across the room to James’ trunk to get the map to find out where Sirius had gone. It took him a few minutes, but he could see that Sirius was in the Astronomy Tower, a favorite when he was feeling down or melancholy. Remus reached back into James’ trunk to grab the cloak, its slick, cool fabric feeling familiar and safe in his hands, before wrapping it around himself and heading out the door to get to Sirius. 
Remus could hear the padding of Sirius’ feet while he was pacing the tower and the distinct sound of his mutterings. “No, no, no, don’t. Dirty. Worthless. Filth. Blood Traitor. Useless. Disgrace…” 
Remus stood stock still, knowing that if Sirius were in his right mind, he would have sensed him the moment he began to take the stairs to the tower. But, in the state he was in, Sirius wouldn’t have noticed if an erumpent had been set off under his own feet. Fuck, Remus thought to himself, how could he have almost let it slip that he loved Sirius? Telling him that would not make any of this better. He took a deep breath, took the cloak off, and opened the door, hoping for the best. 
“Pads?” Remus said softly. Sirius kept pacing as if he hadn’t heard Remus. “Sirius, I’m here,” Remus said louder now, putting himself in Sirius’ path. When Sirius turned around, he finally realized he wasn’t alone in the room. 
Sirius’ eyes bulged out of his head, and he desperately tried to regain his composure, “Re, I’m sorry. I’m fine. Just needed some air, you know? The room gets a little hot at night. I just felt…trapped,” he said, lowering his eyes to the ground, not meeting Remus’ gaze. 
“Hey,” Remus said, reaching out for the other boy. “It’s ok. Everybody has bad dreams. It doesn’t mean they’re real.” 
Sirius shrugged, “S’fine. I’m good. I’m fine.” 
“You said that,” Remus replied, walking towards the window and lighting a cigarette from a whispered spell into his hand, one for himself and then one for Sirius. He held one out, and Sirius took it, letting go of a breath he had been holding in for too long. “Want to talk about it?” Remus asked, exhaling the smoke. 
“Not particularly, but I’m guessing you’re not going to let it go that easily,” Sirius said, turning to face the window, avoiding looking at Remus. 
“I won't force you to tell me anything that you don't want to, Sirius. That’s not how things work between us. But I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t care. I want to help you. I don't want you to hurt. But I know that I can’t fix everything, but on the other hand, sometimes just getting it out there seems to help.” 
Sirius exhaled shakily, “you’re not wrong, and I want to tell you, Re, I do. I just, if I say it all out loud, then that means it really happened, doesn’t it.”
“Sirius…” Remus said, swallowing hard. “You make the rules here. I won’t push.”
“What if you just asked me a few questions? Then it wouldn’t feel like I’m laying it all out?”
“Sure. I can do that.” Remus turned around and slid down the wall to sit on the floor, Sirius following him and sitting cross-legged on the cold stone floor. 
“How long has this been going on?”
“You’ll need to be a little more specific, Moons.”
“How long have you been sleeping with your wand light on and silencing your bed?”
“Wandlight-since I’ve had a wand and figured out the spell. Silencing- since I left Grimmauld to live with James.” As if he was anticipating Remus’ following questions, Sirius kept talking. 
“She used to lock me in the cellar.” Sirius said quietly, taking another drag from his cigarette, “She’d leave me down there for a few hours at first when I was really young. No lights and not enough magic to make any. As I got older, she’d leave me down there longer, sometimes whole days and nights. No light, no food, nothing. Just dark, cold, damp. The kind that seeps into your bones. The first time it happened, I screamed for help. It only took an hour or so for her to send Kreacher down to spell me silent. I couldn’t even hear myself cry, Remus. I’d just scream and scream until my throat was raw even if I couldn’t hear it, I could feel it, right? And I’d just shiver in the corner, counting the moments until she’d let me out again.” Sirius vanished his cigarette butt and pulled his knees into his chest like he had done in the dorm room earlier. 
“Oh, Sirius,” Remus replied, trying not to sound like he was pitying him and trying very hard not to reach out for him. 
“Re, it’s ok. Sometimes I just get stuck there again and can’t seem to find my way back. I keep my wand light on so that I don’t have to be in the dark.” 
“I get it,” Remus said. “Why the silencing charms, though?”
“I still scream,” Sirius replied simply. 
Remus shook his head understandingly, he did his fair share of shouting in his sleep. 
“I know you do. I know you do the same thing and silence yourself when you’re having nightmares, Remus. I can feel your magic.”
Remus turned to him, a little stunned. “What? What do you mean you can feel my magic, Sirius?” 
“I can. I can sense when you cast. I swear I can almost taste it. It’s warm and comforting and feels…safe, I guess.” 
Remus couldn’t form a response. He opened his mouth and closed it again, unable to find the words settling on, “That’s incredible, Sirius,” he managed, falling even more in love with Sirius as he said it. 
“It’s true.” Remus’ heart soared. 
“Sirius, you said some horrible things about yourself, do you…is that how you feel?” Remus gently prodded. 
“Sometimes. It’s like, I know it’s not true. But that's all I’ve ever heard, you know? And I’ve only been gone from there for a few months. I don't want to believe it, but….”
Remus put his hand on Sirius’ knee, “It’s always at the back of your mind. I understand.” Remus said. Sirius put his hand on top of Remus’ and turned to look him in the eye. 
“You make it better, Re. You make it tolerable.” They both took deep breaths. Remus looked down at their entwined hands, looking back up quickly into Sirius’ eyes. Merlin, there was so much hurt there, but also something else, something that looked like love to Remus. 
Remus reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a tiny lidded glass jar. He said a quick spell and it returned to its original size. He held it out to Sirius.
“Here,” Remus said quietly as Sirius took it from him and held it in his unoccupied hand. Remus muttered a spell and the jar filled itself with Bluebell Flames, lighting up Sirius’ face in their pale light. Sirius let go of his hand and held the jar in both his palms. 
“It’s brilliant, Remus!” 
“Well, that’s only part of it.” Remus said another incantation and the flames faded into nothing in front of him. 
“It looks the same to me,” Sirius said, turning the jar in his hands. 
“It’s not, I can't see the flames now.” Remus said and Sirius looked at him confused. “I charmed it so that only you can see it. I’ll teach you the spell, then you won’t have to use a Lumos at night.”
Sirius’ eyes went a little wide again, “How did you know I’d need it?”
“Pads, even before tonight when you explained it, it didn’t exactly make sense that you had your wandlight on every night unless it was from nightmares. There’s nothing wrong with it. I just wanted it to be something for you, so that you didn’t have to tell me, or James or Pete, if you didn’t want to. And, I mean, there’s no way that someone could possibly wank as much as you tell us you do.” Remus said, chuckling just a little bit. 
“Like I said, Moony, nobody loves me like me,” Sirius smirked and laughed a little too, bumping his shoulder into Remus’.  “Really, Re, it’s…it’s everything. It can feel that it’s your magic. It’s warm, it feels like…it feels like home,” Sirius said, almost sighing. 
Sirius reached out and put his hand on Remus’ cheek and scooted closer to him so that their knees were now touching. Remus watched him close his eyes and lean in, guiding Remus a little with his hand on his cheek. 
“Wait,” Remus whispered, his eyes still closed, not really believing that he was stopping Sirius or that he was about to say what he was going to say. “It’s just, you don’t have to. I mean, It’s just a gift, Sirius, and you’re hurting, and I didn’t give it to you hoping this would happen,” Remus said, regretting ruining the moment, but he felt like there was no other option. 
“Re, look at me,” Sirius implored once again, taking Remus’ hands in his. “I’m not going to kiss you because I think I have to repay you. I’m going to kiss you because I want to. Because I’ve wanted to for a very, very long time,” he said plainly. 
“How long?” Remus replied. 
“Since I realized I wanted to kiss anyone.” 
“Fuck, Sirius. You can’t just say that and…” Remus was cut off by the feel of Sirius’ mouth on his. It was a little clumsy to start, Remus not realizing that Sirius was actually kissing him until a beat after their lips collided. But once he came to his senses, he kissed Sirius back with everything he had. He ran his tongue across the seam of Sirius’ lips, begging entrance and when Sirius’ tongue touched Remus’, it ignited something in Remus that he hadn’t realized he’d been missing. They kept at each other for what could have been moments, or hours. And when they heard a voice in the hall Remus realized that at some point Sirius had made his way onto his lap and was straddling his hips. 
“Shit!” Remus groaned, pushing Sirius away from his now very sensitive neck. 
“What is it?” Sirius asked, clearly more than a little perturbed. 
“Listen,” Remus said, “It’s Filch. We’ve got to get back to the dorm.” 
Sirius’ eyes widened. “Fuck. Ok. Take the cloak, and head back. I’ll distract him.” He always managed to somehow sound calm and rational when it came to sneaking around. 
“How will you get back?” 
“Remus, I can be Padfoot. It’ll confuse the hell out of him, plus I’ll chase Mrs. Norris around a little bit. Padfoot will love it!” 
“You’re mad, Sirius.” “I know, but you love it,” Sirius replied, a little of that casual playfulness back in his voice. 
Remus reached out and squeezed his hand, and kissed him quickly.  “Be safe. I’ll see you soon.” 
“Re, can we talk when we get back? Can I sleep in yours?” They hadn’t shared a bed in a long time, not in a year or so since Remus couldn’t deny his feelings for Sirius anymore.
 “Yeah, Pads. You can sleep in mine,” he replied, internally panicking. 
“Great!” Sirius said, squeezing his hand back, kissing him again. “Off you go. I’ve got a cat to chase,” Sirius winked and transformed, bounding out of the door. 
A huge thank you to @mostlyoptimisticdinosaur for their help with this and for their director's cut commentary. I can't thank you enough!
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ashesgraves · 4 years
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An Orcs Promise
The choice part 2
Your choice: Ellera
Warnings: little angst, some swears, family meetings, suggestive words.
Link to other parts:
An Orcs promise: https://yourlocalorcishbandit.tumblr.com/post/646150675798032384/an-orcs-promise
Part 2. https://yourlocalorcishbandit.tumblr.com/post/646294553661423616/an-orcs-promise-part-2
Part 3. https://yourlocalorcishbandit.tumblr.com/post/646373247166906368/an-orcs-promise-part-3
Part 4. https://yourlocalorcishbandit.tumblr.com/post/646477938321244160/an-orcs-promise-part-4
Part 5. https://yourlocalorcishbandit.tumblr.com/post/646486100736638976/an-orcs-promise-part-5
The chosen: Oridan https://yourlocalorcishbandit.tumblr.com/post/646771371691622400/an-orcs-promise
The chosen: Killian https://yourlocalorcishbandit.tumblr.com/post/647330998732881920/an-orcs-promise
The chosen: All https://yourlocalorcishbandit.tumblr.com/post/647482818600009728/an-orcs-promise
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Taking a deep breath you picked up the vase and walked over to Ellera. Softly placing it in her hands, you took a step back a nervous smile on your face. You could see tears starting to build up in her closed eyes when she felt the vase in her hands. Peaking an eye open Ellera looked down at you with such love and joy. Her face displaying all her emotions. The boys opened their eyes with a bit of disappointment but also joy. They may not have won your heart but you’ll still be part of the family.
Two weeks had passed since you chose Ellera as your mate. They have been the best two weeks of your life so far. Your days filled with working in your shop and getting to come home to your almost finished cabin. She helped you finish your carving, got you some lumber, plotted out where the cabin was going to go and started building. You were honoured to have her help you build. Sure you didn’t get much done when working together because you two were usually too busy staring at the other work.
With you gone at your shop it was easier for Ellera to do and finish her work, she loved your company don’t get her wrong but you two could not work together. No work would get done and you’d only stare and compliment one another. So she took her chance whenever you were away to finish everything up. It worked out quite nicely as well. Once fully moved into your home you both took turns meeting each others family extended and all.
Of course yours and her parents already loved you both but, what would your grandparents say? What would her aunts and uncles say? Only one way to find out you supposed. Going to sleep that night felt impossible to you, you were so anxious at what your family would think of Ellera. You knew interspecies relationships were fine I mean look at your mother and father! But an orc? Maybe that one was uncalled for.
Waking the next morning your limbs tangled with Elleras, your head on her chest and one of her arms protectively holding you in place. Groaning softly as you tried to detangle yourself and pull away from her. “Ellera.. we need to get up and get ready.. we’re seeing my family” whining when she only pulled you back down farther and holding you with more force. Sighing softly to yourself. “ okay five more minutes...”
Five minutes turned into another two hours. Jolting awake you looked around panicked. Your family was going to be here any minute you needed to cook and clean and get ready. You didn’t have time.. wheres Ellera. Oh no.. had your family already shown up and kidnaped her thinking she was a terrible mate? Had they thought she did a few things before the wedding night? Oh no oh no oh no. Racing to get up and get ready you almost started crying when you heard knocks at your door. Calming yourself you go and get the door only to find Ellera with her arms filled with ingredients and freshly baked goods.
“Good morning little lamb I hope you slept okay.. I got some things so we can cook a good meal for your folks!” Your heart stopped. You were mad but also incredibly impressed taking a look around the cabin it was clean.. and looked good and smelt like freshly baked bread. Feeling tears in your eyes you hugged Ellera tightly. “L-Little lamb are you okay I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to scare you. I know you couldn’t sleep the other night so I wanted you to sleep I cleaned and got things so you wouldn’t have to worry or stress yourself I’m so sorry my lamb. “ her voice was shaky as she spoke worried she had upset you.
Softly shaking your head no you hugged her tighter. Your voice muffled by her chest and clothing. “ I was worried about you gone when I got up.. I thought my family kidnapped you thinking you did something terrible with the house a mess and me not even awake. B-but you did all this.. “ you were so happy you couldn’t express it. Leaning up and kissing her cheek you smiled and took some of the baskets. “What are we making?” The rest of your morning was filled with cooking, baking and last final touches for getting ready.
Once they did show they loved Ellera she was sweet, kind, funny a good cook and handy woman. They knew she could take care of you and you could take care of her. It all went by so smoothly until Ellera had said it was time for you to meet her extended family. You had three days to prepare yourself. You had hoped you had more time until that came. Meeting your family take a few weeks meet hers and be done. Not meet the family then get ready to meet the other family.
You hated large crowds and gatherings you needed time to recover and recharge your social battery. But you think you might be able to manage with Ellera at your side and you couldn’t wait to see the boys again. Despite your choice you stayed good friends with them, hell they acted more like your bothers than anything else now. Spending the rest of the day cleaning and getting ready to pack and travel you were exhausted come bed time.
The next day was filled with more nerves and jitters as you put the final touches together on what you were taking for your trip. Ellera had practically disappeared this morning leaving you to the house by yourself maybe giving you some extra alone time. You appreciated it but also you didn’t, it gave you time to start over thinking things. Shaking your head you needed to keep packing. So wrapped up in your packing you hadn’t even noticed Ellera was home with two other sets of footsteps following her. “Little lamb in back!”
Perking your head up at the sound of her voice you wondered over to the front door to greet her only to be met with her bothers. “Oridan Killian!!! What are you guys doing here ??? How are you?” Your mood instantly changed and Ellera was quite pleased with herself there.
“Well our dear sister told us you were coming down to meet the family. A terrible idea if you ask us. They’re loud and annoying but that’s how orcs are anyways anyways. So she figured you’d be all nervous especially after your own family meeting so we came down to cheer you up! “ Oridan smiled brightly and hugged you at a crushing force. The type of hug you’ve come to expect from him while Killian patiently waited his turn. He gave you a much softer and gentler hug.
“It’s good to see you again.. ma and pa will be ecstatic to see you as well but be warned of our little cousins they tend to bite. “ Killian spoke with a laugh as he showed you some bite marks he got after babysitting the terrible twos. You felt so much better Ellera knew you too well you wished you could do something for her.
With the boys around the rest of the day flew by until it was time to leave. Meeting Elleras family. You’ve never been up to the stronghold before this would be a first and you were scared but you had a surprise up your sleeve. Maybe it could get you some extra brownie points. The trip was just as short as the day before with the boys present. Time flew when the three siblings were reunited it was a bit funny. They acted like typical siblings throwing insults and punches but yet they loved each other and were so close.
Arriving at the stronghold stopped your heart. Met at a gate by some rather large and terrifying looking orcs you felt yourself shrink into seat and scoot closer to Ellera who happily wrapped an arm around your waist. The place was filled with mostly orcs a few humans and fae sprinkled around here and there. Oh gods you were doing this. This was really happening. Okay you can do this. Pulling up to the Thundered house you could tell you were all the last to arrive. Reaching in one of your bags you pulled out a satchel gift giving was huge in orc culture so you had been making carvings for them you had no idea if you had enough or if they would even like them.
Walking into the home you felt so small. Everyone’s eyes were on you. You felt yourself freeze up and going to find Elleras hand but instead you found Mrs. Thundered a wide smile and open arms. Letting a small sigh of relief leave your lips you rushed over and tightly hugged her. She had always been like a second mother to you. So of course she received the first carving. A simple bear with two little Cubs you had a matching father bear with one cub, you didn’t have enough time to make one whole carving but you hoped it was enough.
Nodding her head in acceptance and appreciation Mrs. Thundered spoke that the party may continue. Females had much more power than the males did in this stronghold it was a matriarchal group so of course Mrs. Thundered had plenty of respect it also helped that her family was so large. Going about and meeting all of Elleras other family members you gave them all a small carving. Some broke into tears others hugged you and some just nodded paying not much mind to you. It had been such a long day you were ready to curl up in Elleras arms for the night.
“You did so good today my lamb. My folks are very impressed by you. Smart bringing gifts that got you off of a few lists. They didn’t like I moved away from the Stronghold but that’s a them problem. “ that explains why some of them didn’t want to speak with you.
“Thank you.. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you or the boys. Here.. this is for you.” Pulling out the final carving it was of you and her made with such detail and care it made her smile so wide and her eyes shine. Taking it gracefully in her hands Ellera lead you upstairs to her room.
“I have a treat for you tonight my lamb~“ Her voice was low and sending shivers down your spine as she lead you to the bed. Pushing you down Ellera laughed a little as she flopped down beside you. “A full nights rest no interruptions no waking early and breakfast in bed” glancing over to your face she laughed more when she saw how red you were.
Embarrassed you smacked her arm and hid your face. “ you can’t speak like that and expect me not to think of other things!! That’s unfair you knew what you were doing! “ Pulling you into her arms Ellera smiled and kissed all over your face like she did when you chose her.
“Hush my lamb plenty of time for that after marriage. “ she spoke with a teasing tone. Holding you closer in her arms you were glad you chose her. Shaking your head as you drifted off into one of the best sleeps you’ve ever had.
You had made the right choice.
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obviouslyelementary · 4 years
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Talent Show - DS9 fanfic
Ships: Jake/Nog; Kira/Jadzia; Julian/Garak; Quark/Odo
Tags: Romance, first kisses, confessions over music, teen love, adults being there to have fun.
Word count: 4k+
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Nights like these were rather on DS9. Clam, gentle, uneventful nights, where they could arrange some sort of gathering for the people who were interested. The idea came from Keiko, as she allowed the children to express themselves in a variety of ways, including acting, dancing and singing, which lead to the event they were having. All parents and friends and all the station's personal had been invited for the presentation the kids had organized, some of them doing bajoran traditional dances, and others reading poems and reciting stories.
The parents were excited, and due to a little blackmailing, Sisko was able to get Quark's bar to be the gathering point. They made a stage and organized the chairs so that everyone would fit, and despite Quark's first hesitation, he realized he could make at least a bit of profit by giving off food and soft drinks for the guests.
In the end, they were all gathered up for the event to begin, and Benjamin couldn't help but lean closer to Jake as Keiko called the first group of children to the stage.
"I hope you have prepared something good" he said, and Jake looked at him, giving his father a nervous smile.
"Me too. I'm sure you will like it" he said, making Ben confused and even more curious.
"Are you really not going to tell me what it is? And to whom? Because clearly it isn't for me" he teased, nudging Jake, but the boy seemed to get even more uncomfortable, letting out a weak chuckle and sipping on his drink. "Alright I wont bug you with it. But I bet she will like it."
Jake looked at him, even more unsure, and nodded weakly while looking down at his glass. The bajoran music began, and Benjamin lifted his glance to look at the stage, where three little bajoran girls were beginning to dance. It was quite adorable, but his mind didn't leave him alone. He was always curious about what Jake would do.
 "Can you believe Keiko came for me to help?" Kira asked, chuckling as she shook her head, sipping on her juice and leaning against Jadzia, who was sitting just behind her. "As if I knew any traditional bajoran dancing."
"I mean, I would have asked you too" Julian said from the other side of the table, smiling over his big lizard boyfriend's shoulder from where, very much like Kira, Garak rested against the doctor's chest.
"Are you two going to appreciate this moment?" Garak asked, his soft voice always against his cardassian nature, making Kira giving him a glance while Jadzia squeezed her girlfriend tighter and kissed her cheek.
"He's right" she sang into her ear, kissing it and making Kira immediately lean back against her. "The girls are doing a marvelous job."
"Yeah... they are cute" Kira admitted, holding Jadzia's hand over her own stomach and watching as the girls danced and jumped around the stage, following the song's rhythm. They seemed to have practiced quite a lot. "I remember some girls at my camp that danced like that. There weren’t many of them, but their mothers insisted on keeping the culture alive. It was quite... enchanting."
"Any sort of hope is enchanting" Julian added, laying his head on Garak's almost protectively, while Garak kept his attention on the stage, humming along with the song. Kira didn't seem to mind his company anymore, drawing patterns on Jadzia's hand, smiling whenever one of the girls pulled off a tricky move. They were very good, and she was glad a Cardassian could enjoy a little bit of Bajoran culture without feeling offended.
But then again, Garak wasn't any cardassian. She knew it by the way he treated Julian, most of all. And she wasn't a simple bajoran either.
It was no time to think about that, however.
 Once the girls were finished, the crowd clapped and were given a few seconds to ask for food and drinks while the next group got together on stage. Quark groaned as once again Rom came back with a full platter, flicking his ear.
"You are a disgrace Rom! I said table six not sixteen! Take it to them before it grows cold!" he complained, shaking his head and fixing some more drinks for the costumers, in a rush. During presentations he did nothing but watch, and during breaks he would have to run so all costumers were satisfied. He didn't like that one bit.
"Looking quite busy, Quark" he heard someone say, and oh boy his night couldn't get better. He turned around to face Odo, his eyes narrowed in annoyance as he poured another drink without looking at it before his waiter took it away.
"If you wouldn't mind helping, I could very much use your assistance" he said, getting another meal from the replicator and putting it on a tray. "If not, I would rather have you leaving me alone. After all with all this work, you can't possibly suspect of any scheme!"
"I'm suspecting of schemes ever since you accepted this... event to happen at your bar, Quark" he said, leaning over the bar and squinting his eyes at the bartender. "If I find you are doing anything to ruin this presentation..."
"Odo, why would I? These are every day clients that will be here more often if I offer them good service, specially around their children" Quark said, honestly already exhausted, and it had only been the first set of children. For all he knew, there were still ten performances left, and then it would be open to the public. This night would never end. "Please, Odo? Leave me alone?"
That sounded quite defeated, but he didn't have time to care about his dignity at the moment.
He turned around to serve another waiter with a set of drinks and food, but when he turned to reach for the replicator, the food was gone. Another look, and a freakishly long arm was placing it on the tray, together with other six tentacle-things serving the drinks accordingly to the requests. When Quark looked over, Odo's face couldn't be read, and yet, he felt extremely thankful.
"Next performance will be of our dear student Tarsk, who will be reading her poem" Keiko said, and Quark sighed, shaking his head and knowing he would have another short break. He walked closer to where Odo was sitting, and leaned over the bar, looking at the stage.
"I don't think Nog will be doing anything. At least I hope not" he whispered as the little kid got ready. Odo humphred at him, and Quark raised his cartilage. "Why are you so moody?"
"I was expecting so spend some... quality time with you. I did not know you would be controlling the food and drinks" he said, quite hesitant and also quietly, but Quark heard it and he felt the happiness of being wanted tingling in his ears.
"Oh really? You know, we have the time during the performances" Quark said, and Odo turned to face him, his face unreadable. "I'm free now."
Odo shook his head and let out a huff through his nose before leaning closer to Quark and pressing a quick kiss to his lips. Once he pulled away, his attention returned to the stage, but Quark was already too happy to care.
That would be a good night.
 As the little girl read her poem, quite long for a simple child's mind, Garak leaned further against Julian, and the doctor nodded something akin to fatigue getting over his wonderful partner. He knew Garak had been tired the last few days, although he wasn’t sure why, and he knew he wouldn't get it from him either, but holding him closer and kissing his scaly neck seemed to make the cardassian a little more comfortable.
"Sometimes I... forget... the beauty of the Bajoran culture" he whispered, to no one really, and surely too quiet for their table sharers to listen, but Julian heard and leaned closer to him, nuzzling gently behind his pointy ear.
"They can be quite mesmerizing, can't they? The children?" he asked, intertwining their fingers together, while Garak let out one of his gentle chuckles, nodding to himself and to the doctor.
"Indeed... they hold the same spirituality that allowed their parents and grandparents to survive" he whispered, and sighed softly, squeezing Julian's hands. "In moments like this I wonder the true destruction Cardassia brought to these people."
"You never talk about the invasion like this" Julian noted, perhaps finding one more layer of Garak he didn’t know, one of those he kept buried inside many lies and secrets. But the cardassian just chuckled and closed his eyes, paying attention to the poem again, and Julian knew he had lost him.
Sometimes he just spoke too much.
But luckily, Garak didn't seem to mind.
 "Did you see Rom or Nog at all?" Jadzia asked after the little girl finished her poem, a new round of drinks and foods being served to the guests. Kira turned to face her, a small frown showing in her pretty nose's cartilages.
"I think Rom is being useless to Quark as he always is... and I don't know about Nog. Why?" she asked, taking a sip from her drink and offering it to Jadzia, who easily accepted.
"Nothing. Just curious" she said, and Kira rolled her eyes while laying her head on her girlfriend's shoulder.
"Only you to care about the ferengis while having a nice little talent show" she whispered, and hummed happily. Jadzia knew the alcohol (which was not supposed to be served and yet, here they were) was beginning to affect Kira, letting her softer and sweeter, and maybe a bit clingier, but she didn’t mind, only bringing her bajoran major closer and kissing her head.
"I care about all the performances, but there is one in particular I would not like to miss" she said, and Kira looked at her curiously, barely opening her eye.
"Is the baby troll going to show off some hidden skills?" she teased, smiling, and Jadzia chuckled softly.
"Don't talk like that about Nog, he is a child still" she said, kissing her head and then her lips when Kira pouted. "No, I don't think Nog will be presenting anything. But it is important that he is here, so he sees Jake's."
"Jake's? Oh, what is that going to be?" Kira asked, suddenly interested, smiling at Jadzia. "Is it like a prank? A loooooove declaration?"
"I don't know. All I know is that Jake is nervous and he wants Nog to see it" she smiled, and kissed Kira again to make her forget the subject.
After all, she didn't want to ruin it for Jake.
 "Thank you so much, thank you! Now, our next performer will be Jake Sisko! Get your food and drinks and get ready!" Keiko announced, before nodding for Jake to hop up on the stage. Jake sighed and looked at his dad, unsure, before rushing up with her and taking the old fashioned microphone. "Hey Jake! Ready?"
"I-I guess" he mumbled nervously, looking at her. "Did,.. did Nog show up? Is he going to do anything?"
"He didn't come to check on me, no, but I believe he must be around. His family is" she said, and smiled at him, tapping his shoulder. "Don't worry. I don't think he would lose seeing you perform."
"Thank you, miss O'Brien" he whispered, sighing and getting on stage, before scanning the room as the ferengi served the guests. He could see his father sitting alone a few feet away from the stage. A few tables behind, he saw Jadzia, Kira, Julian and Garak sharing a table, the two couples clearly quite content with their arms around each other. He felt his cheeks warming up as he looked away, only to see Odo serving drinks with four tentacle-like arms while kissing Quark on the side. He couldn't help but frown, that was gross.
He kept looking around, trying to find Nog in the middle of the tables or maybe serving, but he just couldn't find him. Of course, the crowd didn't make it any easier, but he was growing nervous and he hoped Nog would be there to hear him.
 Nog came rushing downstairs as quickly as he could when he heard Jake's name. he made his way through the crowd towards the bar, panting as he reached his uncle, unable to stop his disgust from showing when he saw him and Odo in a somewhat weird make out section. Still, didn't weird him out enough to stop him.
"Uncle! Uncle Quark!" he called, and they pulled away, Odo turning to face him while Quark looked annoyedly at him.
"What?!" he growled, and Nog winced. Odo did not seem to appreciate Quark's reaction. "Shouldn't you be counting the gold upstairs?!"
"I know uncle I know, but you said I could hear Jake!" he said, biting his lip. He had promised him he wouldn't miss it. "I know I did wrong by stealing your liquor, but-but... I learned my lesson! I won't do it again!"
"Quaark" Odo growled and Quark shook his head angrily.
"You are putting me in a bad spot boy!" he complained and Nog pouted. "I should not allow you to listen to the Sisko boy!"
"You promised!" he whined, looking over at the stage. Jake was getting ready. "Please?"
"Yes" Odo answered for Quark, and made a face when the bartender tried to intervene. "Go and find somewhere to seat. You are free for the rest of the evening."
Nog grinned widely and didn't even wait to hear his uncle's complaints, rushing into the crowd and sitting down on a vacant seat with a bajoran group, looking up at the stage as Jake tapped on the weird thing he had on his hand and cleaned his throat.
"H-hi" he started, and Nog grinned to himself. "My name is Jake Sisko, I believe you all... know me" he continued, clearly nervous. "For today's performance I prepared a song... one that is very old, from earth. The 19 hundreds. It is dedicated to my best friend... if you're there, t-this song is for you."
Nog's eyes widened and he looked forward at the stage with even more attention, his ears twitching with excitement. Jake cleaned his throat again and the music started, slow and somewhat dancing, and Jake swayed from one side to the other as he breathed, getting the timing.
"Take it easy with me, please. Touch me gently, like a summer evening breeze. Take your time, make it slow... andante andante, just let the feeling grow.
"Make your fingers soft and light, let your body be the velvet of the night... touch my soul, you know how. Andante andante, go slowly with me now..."
The song was melodic, hypnotic, and Nog couldn't let his eyes drift away from Jake at any second. He wasn't the best singer he had ever heard, in fact Ferengi had quite the ears for music, but the lyrics and the soft, gentle way he sung made Nog's heart skip a beat. And everyone in the bar seemed frozen, watching amazed by Jake's feelings.
 "I'm your music, I'm your song! Play me time and time again, and make me strong. Make me sing, make me sound... andante andante, tread lightly on my ground... andante andante, oh please don't let me down.
"Make me sing, make me sound. Andante andante, tread lightly on my ground... andante andante, oh please don't let me down... andante andante... oh please, don' let me... down..."
The song came to a slow, sweet end, and Jake put the microphone down, looking around at the crowd as it burst into cheers. His father stood up and clapped hard, whistling suddenly, and he could see all his friends in the crowd, waving and whistling and cheering even while Keiko came over to get his microphone back.
"That was incredible Jake! Beautiful!" she whispered, smiling at him, and he smiled back at her nervously before handing her the microphone. He rushed down the stairs and looked around before sitting next to his dad, still confused and looking for Nog.
"Jake that was beautiful" Ben said, holding his son's hand, and he looked at him with a small smile.
"Thanks dad, I... I practiced a lot" he said, but his attention was on his surroundings. "You didn't see-"
"I believe, if I may" he heard Garak from behind them, and turned to face the cardassian, who was giving Jake a smile "that I saw your little friend coming downstairs right before you sang. Maybe you should speak to his uncle, to see where he is" he winked, and Jake felt himself warm up again but smiled.
"Yeah, thanks Garak. Dad I'll be right back" he said, pulling away and rushing off into the crowd. Ben watched him leave, knowing very well he would not be coming back any time soon.
"Being young and in love. It's the sweetest thing, even though he is in love with a baby troll" Kira said, smiling to herself, and Ben shook his head while Jadzia and Julian grinned to one another.
"Major, be nicer to your youngsters" Garak said, and she groaned at him while their partners pulled them closer to avoid any fights. Ben just chuckled and shook his head, looking back at the stage.
 After having a quite short talk with Quark (who seemed more concerned in sucking the life out of Odo's face than actually helping Jake at all), he was able to get some information about Nog's whereabouts. He looked through the back crowd, with no luck, and it wasn't until he looked up that he saw Nog on the second floor, looking down, waving his legs around.
Jake rushed to the stairs and made his way up as quickly as he could, sitting down next to Nog and looking at him expectantly.
Nog, however, seemed quite calm.
"Hey" Jake said, and Nog looked at him. "Did you see my performance? Did you like it?"
"I saw it, but I don't understand human music a lot. Specially old music" Nog said, smiling at Jake. "Also, good call calling her your 'best friend'. I bet she enjoyed it."
"Her? Her who?" Jake asked, confused, and Nog chuckled with a nudge on his arm.
"The girl you sang for! Come on Jake I don't understand human music but I know how to listen to lyrics! It's about love, and it's clear it was for some girl you like! Now, who is she? Maybe I can get you on a date!"
"Nog, there's no girl."
"What do you mean there's no girl? You said it, the song was for your best friend and the song is about love or touching or whatever you humans liked to do in your 19 hundreds!" he said, lifting his hands and hitting them on the rails again. Jake sighed.
"Yeah, it is a love song and it was a love confession. But there's no girl."
"Then... a boy?" Nog asked, eyes widening. "You have a best male friend that isn't me?! How come I never heard of him? Also your taste in partners is quite... unappealing-"
"I don't have any other best friend! Not boy or girl or non binary!" Jake exclaimed, loudly, and stood up angry and humiliated. Oh, that hurt. "The song was a love confession to my best friend. You. But clearly you don't care."
Jake made his way down the second floor as quickly as he could, feeling the tears rise up in his eyes. Clearly that had been an awful idea, and he would never be anything but a hooman friend to Nog. He ran as quickly as his legs allowed him to go, he knew he shouldn't cry like this, but he felt like it because his chest was hurting and he had never felt anything like this before.
It was frustrating.
 It took Nog almost an hour to find Jake again. After the human had not only yelled at him, but also confessed, he felt like an idiot and wanted to talk to him further. Of course he would have never suspected Jake would be singing to him, no one had ever liked him before! No one had ever expressed any type of romantic love towards him at all, and rarely he got any platonic or fraternal love either by how crude and rude the ferengis were, so he didn't quite understand what Jake meant until he spelled it out.
And even worst, he would never expect his feelings to be reciprocated. To him, Jake was far beyond his reach since day one. Somehow he got lucky Jake decided to be his friend, and now, he seemed to want more even though Nog would have never expected anything like that from him. Nog was, well, crude and rude as any ferengi, but he was also stupid, he didn't know math or how to read, he didn't understand biology or history, he didn't have the lobes for business... he never believed or even hoped Jake would ever like him!
But now that he knew he did, he was afraid his stupidity would once again ruin whatever they had.
However, he did learn some things with his ferengi relatives, and he also knew Jake wasn't all that smart either. Well, he was, but not when it came to every day stuff. So, he hid in the most obvious place he could: in the observation tower, where they liked spending evenings watching the stars. Nog approached the room silently, looking around and finding Jake like a shadow in the middle of the room, illuminated only by the stars. He approached, his ears capturing the sound of soft sniffles, and felt even worst for making Jake cry.
If he couldn’t fix it, he would never forgive himself.
Knowing a surprise would not be appropriate, he gently pushed a box nearby to make a sound, and Jake jumped and turned around, wiping his tears to look at him.
"W-who is... Nog?" he asked, his voice softening at his name, and Nog nodded slowly. Jake then turned back around, wiping his eyes. "What are you doing here? What do you want?"
"Jake I-"
"You don't have to say it. I get it. I understood the moment I told you that you didn't like me the same way. It's obvious now, why would you like anyone like me? I'm a male, I'm a human, I don't care about profit or whatever else you Ferengis care about..."
"Jake, that is not-"
"You don't have to make me feel worst Nog! I already feel well ashamed and upset!" he said, and even though Nog sat down next to him, he didn’t move. "I just... hope I didn't ruin our friendship."
"You didn't" Nog assured, tapping his shoulder, and Jake looked at him with tears glistening in his dark eyes. "Jake, I... I didn't mean to make you feel upset, or-or ashamed! I just... never expected-"
"Me to like you... yeah, I know" he whispered and wiped his tears. "I never expected you to like me back. I guess one of us was right."
"Jake, no-"
"I don't wanna hear it, I'm fine with this rejection as it is" Jake said, sighing and looking up at the stars. Nog frowned, frustrated that Jake wouldn't listen to him.
"Jake I-"
"No Nog."
"But-"
"Nog I don't want to listen!"
"J-"
"Nog!"
That was it. Nog held Jake's face and turned his head around to face him, and Jake looked at him surprised, but it was a look that soon disappeared when Nog leaned in and pressed their lips together. He closed his eyes tightly and just waited for a response, since he was aware he was not good at kissing, but eventually the shock wore out and Jake responded, moving his lips ever so slightly and tilting his head. His hands came to rest on Nog's shoulders while Nog's remained on his cheeks, until they both pulled away and looked at each other, surprised and also radiant.
"You should have let me finish" Nog said, and Jake smiled brightly at him.
"And miss that? Not at all" he giggled, and Nog giggled right back before they met up again, kissing once more now that they knew how each other felt.
And they remained the rest of the event (and even longer after that) in the observation toward, kissing and giggling and getting acquainted with this new relationship that had blossomed.
 By the end of the talent show, Ben had joined his two favorite couples for a round of food and drinks, on the house. The parents and children had already left, and Quark brought up something for them to chew on, sitting with Odo and the rest of the officers. Kira was basically asleep on Jadzia's chest, while the others talked and drank in the quiet of the night.
It was Odo who brought the subject up.
"Your son, commander. I have not seen him since his performance" he said, making Ben share a knowing look with Jadzia. Before he could answer, Garak interrupted.
"I'm sure he is well taken for, Odo. He was looking for Nog when he left" he said, and Odo nodded.
"Yes I know. That is what worries me" he explained, receiving a flick on the arm from Quark.
"Don't be like that! My nephew is one of the few good ferengis I know, and I'm not counting myself" he said, and shook his head while Julian chuckled.
"Hopefully the two of them are... discussing some issues that need to be resolved" he said, winking to Dax who smiled and nodded.
"Hopefully."
"Could we join you?" they heard Miles saying, and pulled their chairs around to fit another two while Kira complained and found a way of climbing on Jadzia's lap, falling asleep tangled on her girlfriend. No one seemed to mind, and Keiko and Miles joined the group after closing off all the necessary equipment for the event.
They spent the rest of the evening talking, laughing and enjoying each other's company without thinking much about the problems that could come ahead. After all, it was rare to have such a calm night to enjoy.
And sure, they didn’t see Nog or Jake until the next morning, but Keiko knew the night had been productive when she saw the two boys walking into her classroom with their hands tangled together.
She decided then she should make those events more often.
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Moving On
@takemepedropascal
 (Summer 2012)
Evangeline Cheval finally unpacked her last box for her new bedroom and kicked it to the other side of her room in her new house. The former Mrs. Depp had been looking forward to this day for months, the day she’d finally be able to move her and her kids Camille and Xavier back to her hometown, New Orleans, in her childhood neighborhood where her grandparents had raised her and her sisters. The neighborhood was more expensive, but as she hung more pictures of her family, past and present it was beginning to feel like home. The divorce had been finalized last fall, but since the kids had started back at school, Evie decided to put the move on hold until they finished school and they moved into a modest three bedroom home until the school year was up. Camille and Xavier would get a fresh start in Louisiana, where they wouldn’t be followed around with cameras.
The kids would be starting school in a month, Camille going into the 7th grade and Xavier going into the 4th grade, while Evangeline would start as the new cardiologist at the nearby hospital in two weeks. She sat on her newly made bed and looked around the room and she felt a weight leave her. Evangeline could be normal now, as in she could go to the grocery store or the gas station and not have her picture taken. No more being known as just Johnny Depp’s wife, where people forget that she’s a doctor whenever she was on his arm. No more comments about how she’s a gold digger who’s only with Johnny for money and fame.
Now she’s just Dr. Evangeline Cheval. The divorce itself was exhausting and heartbreaking, but not messy. Johnny told her how he fell in love with his costar, that he never meant for it to happen, but it did. Once news got out about Johnny divorcing Evie, Evie was phased out of social circles, women she’d known for over 20 years and called her friend stopped inviting her out to get togethers and soon, she had no support system Los Angeles, and Evie was miserable as her kids finished out the year. That was when she made the decision to move back to her hometown where her sisters and best friends were.
They welcomed her back with open arms, and since Camille and Xavier loved New Orleans, and with Johnny’s approval (it was the least he could do, he could see that she was absolutely miserable and wanted her to be happy), it was a win-win. Evangeline decided to check on the kids and see their progress, starting with Xavier. He had boxes pushed into a corner of the room and he was filling his bookshelf with his books and little action figures. His bed was in a corner near a window with a bedside table that held his unplugged alarm clock and a framed picture of all four of them on vacation in the Bahamas. When Johnny was still in love with her.
“The room looks great.” Her son sat on the bed and Evie leaned against the door jamb. “Thanks Mom.” Xavier was always quiet and reserved, just like his dad. “I know this is a big adjustment, but this will be a good thing. For all of us. Your father loves you and your sister very much, and nothing is going to change that, we’re still a team.” Xavier still looked a little unsure, and what he said next made Evie’s blood run cold. “Is she going to be our stepmother?” Johnny started dating the blonde she devil after the divorce was finalized; she wanted to be happy for him, but there was something about her that Evangeline didn’t like about her besides the fact she had a hand in ruining their marriage, but she couldn’t exactly put her finger on it. She let it go because she didn’t want to be one of those ex wives. “I don’t know sweetheart. That’s a question you have to ask Daddy.”
“I’m gonna go check on your sister.” When she crossed the room, Xavier asked, “hey Mom, what’s for dinner?” Evie pulled her phone out of her pocket to check the time; there were two text messages from her sister Shanelle, and it was almost six o’clock. There wasn’t any food in the fridge yet and she didn’t have the energy to unpack the kitchen. “Uh… we can eat out. Once I finish checking on your sister, we can go get burgers or something.” She’d have to go to the grocery store after she registered the kids in school. Then she’d have to oversee the installation of the washer and dryer, then the cable so Camille could catch the new episode of Pretty Little Liars. It was a lot to do.
Camille’s door was open so Evie poked her head in; her 13-year-old asleep on her back with a copy of the newest issue of Teen Vogue resting cover side up on her stomach. So that explains why she’s been so quiet. Xavier was trying to set the time on his clock. “We can eat as soon as Camille wakes up.” Xavier groaned and threw his head back, his dark hair flopping out of his face. “But she’s gonna sleep the whole night! And I’m hungry!” 
“She could wake up soon. I don’t know how long she’s been sleeping. Wanna watch a movie while we wait?” Evie let him pick the movie so they ended up watching Howl’s Moving Castle, and thirty minutes into the movie, Camille walked into her mother’s room where her brother and mother were cuddled on the bed, Evangeline scrolling through her email. Multiple emails from reporters wanting to get her side of the divorce, her thoughts on Johnny’s girlfriend and emails from her new job saying she can pick up her new coat. “Ready to go eat? There’s a New Orleans Hamburger and Seafood restaurant nearby.” Camille nodded and fluffed out her curly hair and gathered it into a ponytail. 
“Okay y’all, go put on your shoes and then we can go.” After fixing her hair and reapplying a new coat of her favorite lip gloss, they were ready to go. It felt nice to leave the house and enjoy a meal as a family without a bunch of cameras flashing outside as they ate. No one seemed to know who they were despite the fact that Evangeline was the mother to some of the most famous kids in the world. No one was coming over to bother them for a picture or autograph. Later that night as she lay in bed waiting for a reply from Shanelle, she thought about how different her life would be now. She’s now caring for two kids by herself. She doesn’t have a housekeeper to clean up her mess (not that she ever liked having people pick up after her) or personal chefs; she would be in charge of what her small family would eat for dinner (which was just fine with her. The kids preferred their mom’s cooking anyway). Evie thought about how when the bill came, the waitress informed her that the gentleman at the next table paid for their food and dessert which he offered. He winked at her and she smiled back. 
His name was Will and Evie thought he was very attractive. Much taller than her 5”2, and dark skinned. They exchanged numbers, and long story short, she was very interested in him as they texted back and forth. If Johnny was already moving on with his life, then Evie shouldn’t have to feel guilty about texting another man. It felt nice to feel butterflies, to know that she was desirable. Maybe this wouldn’t be a bad thing.
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stonecoldjerseyfox · 4 years
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Jersey on my mind (part 26)
Mila is abruptly awakened from her flashback and turns just in time to see Sam, pale as a sheet, beginning to have a panic attack and Jessie trying to reach for him. Just by looking at the poor kid Mila knows that this won’t end well. The chain they have formed, holding hands, is about to breach. And so it does. 
It all happens so fast. Sam’s breakdown attracts attention from the surrounding herd, who quickly starts to devour him in front of them. Mila can’t look away, it’s as if her feet and eyes are locked, frozen on the ground. 
“Noooo-” Jessie’s scream, a desperate, chill cry, feels like fire in Mila’s ears. A sound only a grief stricken mother can make. 
Instinctively Mila presses Juri closer to her body underneath the poncho, digs her face into his bright blonde hair and holds her hands over his headphones, pressing them against his ear, preventing him from hearing what's happening around him. She doesn’t want to hear either. Happy thoughts, happy thoughts goddammit, Mila chants inside of her head.  
But just as when passing a car accident- no matter how much Mila should look away, it’s impossible. And how much Rick tries to get Jessie to let go of Sam’s hand, how much Carl tries to free himself from Jessie’s grip…
Mila watches in pure horror as a walker clenches its jaws around poor Jessie’s neck. She barely reacts. It’s as if Jessie’s already dead inside. Another walker approaches her from behind, digs its teeth into the back of her neck, and she falls to the ground. It’s like a horror film. Sam, being eaten alive next to Jessie, blood pulsates out of their dying bodies as the walkers devour them. Rick, raising his arms, holding a hatchet between his hands. It cuts through the air, chopping off Jessie’s arm, freeing Carl who stumbles straight into Mila, almost causing them both to fall to the ground. Jessie’s scream bounces around the safe-zone, awakes the walkers surrounding them, making them search for the source of the loud, human cry of pain. With a pounding heart, Mila fumbles after her rifle inside the cursed meat poncho-creation Rick threw at her, desperately trying to figure out what’s sheet and what’s not. In the corner of her eye as she searches for the rifle on her back, Mila sees how Ron points something in the direction next to her head. Towards Rick. 
Before Mila manages to get her hands out of the bundle of fabric, or to push Ron out of the way, Michonne has pushed the sharp katana through the teenage boy’s chest. The gun goes off in his hand and the loud bang gets Mila out of her trance-like state, an effect similar to when papa sunk her small body down the ice cold water in the river Volga when she was a child, taking those dreadful ice baths. Hearing, sight and everything goes sharp. She looks at Rick, to see if, and then where, the bullet hit him. Her eyes stop on their way there, at Carl, who’s soft, sweaty hand is still entangled with hers. The heart stops in her chest. It’s as if he hasn’t realized what has happened. The whole group looks at him in pure, horrified shock, as Carl raises his head, looking at them from underneath the brim of the worn hat. 
“Dad-”
A feeling, much similar to when Jim turned around in the bathroom to face her, that horrible day at the motel in Missouri, embraces Mila as she meets Carl’s face. Blood streams down his right cheek, from the spot where his right eye was just seconds ago. Everything left of it is a gaping, dark hollow, where the bullet has dug its way into his skull. The only reason he’s not screaming in pain is because he’s in such an overwhelming state of pain and shock that his brain hasn’t had time to react yet.  
“Carl!” Rick bolts towards Carl just as the boy collapses. Mila manages to catch him before his head hits the ground and stares at the pale boy while panic wells up inside of her, making the lungs shrink to the size of raisins as the anxiety winds like a rope around her chest. It can’t be real. He can’t die, not under any circumstances! 
“No, no-” Mila pants. “Noo-”
Juri tries to turn his head, to see what’s happening, but in vain. Thank god for that. 
“Carl!” 
Rick kneels in front of Carl and Mila passes over the lifeless boy’s body in his father’s arms, gets up from the ground and feels her pulse change from rampant to disturbingly calm as she caresses Juri’s hair, as to say that everything will be alright, that everything is fine. She will make sure of it.
Just like when the Wolves came into Alexandria, Mila enters a mindset she is equally afraid of, as she feels enormous respect for. The mindset that her father, through the thick plexiglass at the Southport Correctional facility, told her to embrace, with a wicked smile upon the terrifying face. 
Without fumbling Mila takes out her rifle from underneath the poncho. Her heart rate has dropped to almost resting when she, calm and methodically, loads the rifle, raises it and prays to whatever god there might be present, that Juri has turned up the volume properly on his walkman. She moves forward and starts mowing down walkers. Michonne understands what she’s about to do, because Mila hears her call out between the throbbing hail of bullets:  
“Get to the infirmary!”
Mercilessly Mila takes the lead with Juri, clinging to her jacket in the harness. Michonne covers her on the flanks; the sharp katana cuts through the air around her while Mila wipes out the monsters going forward. They move fast, almost jogging. On Mila’s right side, Rick runs with Carl in his arms. Behind them, Gabriel hurries with Judith, now crying. 
Ten meters from the door to the infirmary, Mila begins to sprint, once again swinging her rifle like a baseball bat in front of her, before reaching the door. She tears it open, thanking some higher powers for it not being locked.
“Get inside!” Mila commands, while tearing off the yucky poncho. 
Rick runs past them inside as Michonne also reaches the door. She gives her a quick nod, before turning around and starting to cover her, giving Mila a chance to lift Juri out of the harness. 
“In, fast!” Mila instructs the stressed up boy, who quickly scurries over to a corner of the room to hide. “Keep an eye on Juri.” She commands Gabriel as he also gets inside with Judith. Mila throws the harness, now being a piece of sheet again, into the room and takes the door handle. “We'll take care of this.”
She closes the door behind them and turns around, to the approaching horde of walkers. Michonne holds the katana in front of her, looks at Mila in the corner of her eyes. They nod towards each other and run towards the horde, katana and AK raised. 
This must have been how her grandparents felt when they tried to defend Stalingrad against the Germans, Mila thinks fleetingly, before colliding with the herd. Running through flames and fire, straight towards the gunfire, except there’s no gunfire meeting her now, only the walking dead. Despite that, she and Michonne are at a disadvantage, being two against, maybe hundreds. If there is anything Mila has learned about Michonne, besides being a loyal friend and one of the strongest fighters of the all, is that she, just like Mila, hates being at a disadvantage. 
The two women work their way through the herd, tirelessly. Until Mila, just for a few seconds, looks in another direction, and feels something bump into her. An approaching walker. Mila tips over and the walker falls on top of her, presses its face towards her, all grayish and distorted. The eyes are milky. Mila once again gets a flashback; lying on the floor with Jim on top of her, screaming, fighting for her life, begging for him to, yeah, what did she think? No, not this time. This time she won’t crack under the fear of memories. She’s stronger than that. With a loud roar, like if she was a lioness, Mila starts to hit the milky eyed male in the face with her bare knuckles, before a gunshot is heard and the walker on top of her turns limp. Blood seeps out of its mouth, down at her t-shirt. Mila wrestles it to the side, pushes it away and gets up from the ground.  
“Carol?!”
The tough woman comes running towards her and Michonne. Farther away, running in the direction of the infirmary, to both her and Michonne’s relief, they see Denise. 
“Are you alright?” Carol calls, while raising her gun and shooting a walker in the head. “Where are the others?”
“Infirmary.” Michonne replies, aiming the katana at a walker. “Carl’s hurt.”
They three women annihilates a couple of walkers who attack them in a group, before Carol, with a worried face, calls:
“He’s alright?”
“I hope so.” Mila replies and bashes the rifle stock into a walker’s temple, pushing it to the ground, where she smashes the cranium with the stock, once and for all putting it out of its misery. “Fuck, there’s too many of them!”
Just as she utters those words, Mila hears voices in the distance, over the crowd and around them among the herd. Mila soon sees Rositas machete shimmer in the moonlight over the heads of the walkers, followed by gunshots from Tara’s Smith & Wesson. A familiar thud tells her Morgan’s not far away either. To her relief, Mila also sees Rick coming towards her. The tight cop-hips move purposefully while he stabs walkers on his way, eyes black with rage and repressed emotions. He would not have come out here if it were not for the fact that Carl was in good hands, that he was going to be okay, Mila thinks as she meets Rick’s gaze, then turns and continues eliminating the enemy. The only thing she can think of as she kills walker after walker, almost drained of energy by now, as more and more of them approach, is: Where the hell is Daryl? Has something happened? She can’t go on like this for much longer. At least not sober.
It’s when her thoughts, in sheer exhaustion, begins to sail away to an unopened bottle of Russian standard, Mila hears a noise. Ready to bang a dead bastard in the head with the stock of her trustworthy rifle, Mila spins around and stops when she sees Daryl in the distance. Even though it’s dark, she sees him clearly. He stands tall over the wall, on the roof of a truck, with something in his hands, aimed at them- no, at the pond. 
“Watch out!” Daryl hollers over the walkers hissing breaths. 
Panting and completely paralyzed by the sight of Daryl and the truck, where she sees Abe, Sasha, Glenn, Maggie and Enid looking out at them, Mila lowers her rifle and stares as Daryl fires the RPG launcher at the pond. A cloud of fire flares up, revealing something flammable in the pond, as it turns into a pool of fire, that draws the attention of the walkers, making them move towards it like ants drawn to a dropped ice cream cone. 
Around her, the group regains the fighting spirit, but Mila herself is just staring at Daryl, looking back at her, feeling as if she’s going to break.
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ayellowcurtain · 5 years
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His mom is finally back home. Robbe couldn’t believe she was actually home. Just a day before Christmas. Jens, Moyo, Aaron, and Sander came to help him clean the entire house yesterday, it took the entire day and most of the night and it was exhausting, but Robbe was beyond happy to see everything clean and working again.
For the longest time, Robbe was postponing making a decision. His plan was to tell everyone he was going to go to their Christmas parties just so they could stop asking about it, but Robbe’s actual plan was to stay at the flat, alone. And now he’s home. His mom is home too.
All the Christmas decorations were bought at the last minute, so it’s a little messy, but it definitely feels like Christmas and that’s all that matters. None of them know how to decorate. Robbe wanted to make it feel like nothing changed, that it was just another normal, calm Christmas.
Sander kept texting him the entire night to help him not freak out. His mom was feeling better, but they were still awkward around each other, it would take time to get back to their routine. Robbe doesn’t remember what’s like to have a routine, but they’ll find out. He just wants to make this transition back home as smooth as he can to his mom, so he bought most of the food and the rest he made himself, trying to recreate some dishes that he remembered from where he was a kid, eating with his parents and grandparents.
With all the cleaning and the decorating, Robbe didn’t have time to buy gifts, so Jens went shopping for him and bought some things that are now underneath their tiny Christmas tree. Robbe is not too sure about what Jens bought, he only has an idea based on Jens’ poor descriptive skills.
He saw his name on some of the presents when he went to turn the Christmas lights on and Robbe is sure he didn’t ask for gifts, so he’s anxious to see what all those gifts are.
Sometimes the silence becomes a little too heavy, too weird and Robbe decides to put some music to help fill their home. Zoe and Jana made a long Christmas playlist and so he decides to give it a try.
His mom seems to like it, smiling and singing a little while they eat. Robbe’s food is not terrible, he thinks it’s just...a little too basic for Christmas, but his mom disagrees, saying that it’s delicious. She even gets up to get some more food for herself. Robbe is already full, saving some space for the desserts.
It’s just the two of them, Robbe definitely made too much food, but at least that means Robbe won’t have to do it all over again tomorrow morning. He’ll be able to sleep a little more. He leans against the chair, looking at the kitchen, his mom is still busy, opening every pan so Robbe grabs his phone, taking a photo of his Christmas table, sending it to Sander.
to Sander: Merry Christmas <3
The three bubbles come and go, but before he can see a reply, Robbe feels warm arms around his neck and his mom’s cheek pressed against his. He almost drops his phone but manages to put it back inside his pants. He doesn’t remember the last time they shared a real hug like this. She hugs him tightly, kissing his cheek.
“Thank you for tonight, my love, but you’re my son, you understand? I’m the one that has to take care of you, not the other way around. So I’m gonna clean up and you can go out, see your friends. I’m sure Jens invited you to come to his place.”
She’s not wrong, Jens did invite him (and his mom) to spend the night at his and Robbe is tired of having to be the responsible one, but he’s also very happy. He counted the hours to have this back: a somewhat normal life, with his mom, inside his own house, not having to worry about when he’ll have to find another place to live.
“It’s okay. I wanna stay here tonight. And I’ll see Jens tomorrow.” His mom smiles again, kissing his cheek, pressing her hand against his chest before she lets him go and grabs his empty plate, taking it to the kitchen.
Robbe unlocks his phone again, but someone knocks on the door, stopping him from checking his messages. They didn’t invite anyone, but Robbe will punch his dad if he had the audacity to come to see them tonight. There’s no way he’ll let his dad ruin their first Christmas together.
His mom comes to the kitchen door and Robbe gets up, shoving his phone inside his pocket, opening the door.
“Merry Christmas…” Robbe’s heart always starts racing whenever he sees Sander and he can’t control how he smiles just to see his boyfriend right there, looking so good with his fancy black shirt and a big puffy coat, offering Robbe a big box in Christmas themed wrapping paper.
“What…”
“I couldn’t wait until tomorrow.” Sander is still outside, he’s clearly just as nervous as Robbe. He knows Robbe’s mom is right there, inside their house and he’s not sure how much about him she knows so he just stays outside, hoping Robbe will at least accept his gift and they’ll see each other tomorrow.
Robbe looks at the box and then to the floor, but just for once second. Sander exhales when he sees Robbe’s smiles getting bigger and he shakes his head, looking at Sander again, holding his wrist and pulling him inside, closing the door behind them. 
Sander puts the box under his other arms as he lets Robbe drag him inside. Sander has only seen his mom in pictures and he couldn’t stay late last night so he’s only now seeing the tree and all the decoration. Robbe opens his mouth to start explaining, but his mom smiles, walking up to them. 
“Let me guess...you’re Sander.” They both freeze on the spot. Sander didn’t know she knew him and Robbe was ready to have an honest conversation with her. He told her about Sander a couple of weeks ago, but he wasn’t sure how well she remembered that conversation. A lot happened after that and maybe she was still a little overwhelmed to be back home after so long, but she doesn’t seem bothered, coming to hug Sander right away.
Robbe holds his own gift while Sander takes his coat off, leaving it at the door, there’s snow in his hair and Robbe helps him with it, pressing his fingers against the back of his neck when he’s done. 
Robbe pulls Sander to sit on the couch, there’s enough room for the three of them, but his boyfriend stops before they can sit, carefully putting the last gift underneath the tree and then he comes to sit right next to Robbe, leaving his other side for his mom. Robbe sit even closer, almost on his lap. His mom is in charge of choosing the Christmas movie they’ll watch first. Robbe is trying to stay in the moment as much as he can, saving every special moment so they can start recreating every year. He’ll finally have traditions too.
“You’re going to sleep here tonight,” Robbe turns his face, whispering against Sander’s cheek when he notices that his mom is completely distracted with all the movie options she has. Sander smiles, putting his arm around Robbe.
“I just came to give you another gift, but I guess I’m staying.”
“Yeah, you are. I need some explanations about all these gifts with my name on it.” Sander looks at the tree and to Robbe, kissing the corner of his lips.
“It’s not all mine. Some are Jens’.” He points at the piles and Robbe rolls his eyes. He bought something for Sander too, but it’s just one stupid gift and they had a deal of no gifts this year. 
The movie finally started and his mom rushes to turn off the lights, sitting on the couch too. The living room is completely dark, except for the fairy lights that change colors every few seconds, giving their new living room the cozy feeling that it was missing. Sander quietly moves and Robbe can see that he’s checking to see if Robbe’s mom is paying attention to the tv and she is, hypnotized by the rom-con she chose, so Sander pulls Robbe even closer, resting his head on Robbe’s shoulder.
Robbe already watched this movie, but he tries to pay attention and he’s sure rom-con is not Sander’s favorite type either, but he’s trying too, even talking about in between scenes with Robbe’s mom. This is the best moment of the night. Sander and his mom are getting along - agreeing that the main girl of the movie deserves better than the guy she’s falling in love with - and maybe Robbe will be able to live this night again every year, just the thought gives him some peace of mind that at the end, surprisingly, he’ll be fine. 
The desserts will have to wait. His mom is tired when the movie ends, it was a long, emotional day for them, so Robbe gets it. She apologies a bunch of times and Robbe says it’s okay, getting up to give her another hug just to make sure she’s real and she’s home, healthy and ok.
Sander gets up too and she hugs him just as tightly, asking him to stay the night to keep company for Robbe and he nods his head, saying he’ll stay.
Both of them quietly lean against the back of the couch, watching Robbe’s mom go to her room and when she closes the door, Sander pushes Robbe to lie on the couch, and he stays in between Robbe’s legs.
“Just the two of us now…you wanna eat dessert or you wanna go to bed?” Sander’s voice gets a little deeper and slower when he’s tired or drunk and Robbe’s body has a natural response to it, always pulling his boyfriend even closer when he’s talking like this.
“Bed, but you have to behave.” Robbe pushes his head even further against the couch, trying to see the hall upside down behind him, making sure that his mom is still in her room and Sander has full access to his neck, leaving gentle kisses all the way to his jaw.
“You say like I’m the one straddling you every morning, whining and demanding kisses.” Robbe smiles, looking back at Sander, pulling him closer for a kiss. This is the best night of his life. And Robbe can get used to these new traditions: making dinner for his mom, watching a movie with her and Sander, going to bed with his boyfriend, kissing for hours before actually falling asleep.
“Don’t open your presents without me.” Sander whispers against his neck when they’re settled in bed, tired of kissing and Sander is already falling asleep, hiding his face against Robbe’s neck.
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solennitawrites · 4 years
Text
The Voice in the Silence, Part I
The pandemic has really been getting to me. I think I’m hearing things—or, really, just one thing. I don’t know what is real anymore.
My favorite time of night is when I can hear the palm trees in the wind, so loud it sounds like rain even if the night is perfectly clear.
First full moon of the year. I’m standing outside, sand in my toes, bathed in the brightest moonlight casting shadows as if it were already dawn. I close my eyes as the waves quietly lap over my feet and let the sound of the palms quiet my mind.
It’s been a tough year for me. Job losses, grandparents succumbed to COVID, parents struggling to keep their restaurant afloat. And it’s just me now. College and business school— that was the plan. I was going to be the one to save all of us. I was going to buy my parents a big house on the beach with a condo close by for Abuela and Abuelo.
Guess I’m too late.
Corporate life was never for me, unfortunately. I tried to suck it up and do the whole networking thing in college but I just couldn’t bear to end up another miserable finance employee...not to mention, the side glares, the derogatory comments, the quiet laughs I got just for being female in these spaces, not to mention an immigrant.
I’d found some decent jobs here and there, but my last one was in the hospitality business and I got let go a few months into the pandemic. So here I am, living at home again, trying not to let my parents’ disappointment kill me.
The beach is my quiet place. My parents still don’t understand the need to isolate, despite their ages and despite my mother losing both parents to COVID. “Estaban viejitos, mija. Cuando Dios los necesita, no hay nada que hacer.”
I tried. I tried to get them to wear masks. To stop letting neighbors over. To get tested. To get the vaccine when it started to become available near us. Nothing was enough to convince them. So I’d escape to a quiet spot of the beach, away from the touristy shores and just let the waves roll over my feet until the wet sand pulled me ankle-deep.
That’s where I am now. But not because of frustrations with my parents about health precautions. Because...something happened, I guess? At this point, it’s hard to tell what is real and what is quarantine brain.
It was just this morning, when I think it all started. I woke up in the early, early hours of the morning, the moon still up and the sun not yet creeping above the horizon. I started on what had become my daily routine—not out of necessity, but because preparing breakfast before we opened the restaurant was the only thing I felt I could do to help my parents.
So it went: cafe brewing in the Greca, arepas warming in the oven, queso guayanes cut into thick slices on a plate, and fresh jugo de parchita on the counter.
“Emilia...”
“Aquí!” I called back, thinking one of my parents was calling for me from their room. “Su madre!” I hissed immediately after under my breath, wincing as I sliced my finger instead of the ham I was preparing.
No response. I waited for a moment, glancing down the hallway towards my parents’ room but all was silent. Shaking my head, I ran to the sink to wash the blood off of my finger. The cut wasn’t deep, thankfully, and I pressed a corner of paper towel to it until the bleeding stopped. I was just about to throw the blood-soaked scrap away and get back to the ham when I heard it again.
“Emiiiiiiliaaaaaa.....”
The voice was quieter now but also felt so much closer. Like a whisper just against my ears making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I looked around slowly but my vision felt like it was blurring, just around the edges, like it was slowly going out. I shivered violently and crossed myself, shutting my eyes tightly and telling myself I was imagining things—pandemic exhaustion, too many early mornings opening the restaurant, too many late nights job hunting and poring over our finances. It was all just getting to me, that was it.
A few minutes later, my mom walked into the kitchen with my dad close behind and I started to open my eyes, slowly at first and then all at once as the bright kitchen lights came flooding in. My vision was back to normal and the voice was, apparently, gone, affirming in my mind that I had imagined all of it—a product of an overworked brain and nothing more.
“¿Que haces, Emi?” My mom was shaking her head in judgment at me while she picked up where I left off slicing the ham.
“Sorry, mami,” I muttered, holding up my finger with the bloody paper as way of explanation. “Got distracted.”
“Esta hija tuya es más despistada...” my mom sighed at my dad, as if I weren’t there. Whenever I screwed up, which was often in her eyes, I was my father’s daughter. As per usual, my dad made no response and simply made his way to the kitchen table to wait for breakfast. Any other day, I would have made a teasing remark about his machismo preventing him from helping serve the food, knowing he’d respond with an exaggerated grumble about his joint pain, which I would laugh off despite knowing his pain was only getting worse each day. Today, however, I said nothing and silently brought the arepas, cheese, ham, butter, and coffee to the table.
I nibbled on some cheese, having lost most of my appetite, and pretended not to notice the heavy silence that hung over the three of us. Glancing out the kitchen window, I saw that the sky was finally starting to lighten and I stood up, still saying nothing, to make my way downstairs and open the restaurant while my parents finished their breakfast.
I moved as if in a trance, like I couldn’t shake that weirdness from earlier, like the gloom of our family life just added to the weight of it all. Before I knew it, I had opened the cash register, checked the inventory, wiped down all ten small tables (which were almost always empty nowadays), and updated our chalkboard easel before placing it carefully out front to list the day’s specials—if you could call them that. It was the same special everyday because we had so few customers, our avocados weren’t going to last. So Reina Pepiada Arepa it would be, again.
I passed my parents on the stairs as they headed down to begin their work. I usually spent the morning job hunting, driving for Uber and Lyft, or whatever odd jobs I could manage until lunchtime, when I would watch the restaurant for a while the give my parents a break. Not that it really mattered—no one was coming.
I didn’t have it in me to deal with strangers today, even though I knew my mom would berate me for not earning extra money later. I just needed to be alone, doing nothing, for once. Grabbing my masks and keys, I took the car and drove to my spot on the beach.
I had found my spot a few weeks into moving back home—far away from the tourists and hotels, past the wanna-be surfers, the boaters, the old-timers. Partly hidden by trees and brush, the shore was often “dirty” with seaweed, more so than the rest of the beach, and so was largely left alone. If anyone ever crossed into my area, they were either like me and sat at a large distance to be alone or had wandered there by mistake and quickly turned around to return to the more populated areas.
Today, it was especially quiet. The silence felt almost oppressive and I kept picking up and tossing seashells just to hear the -plop- in the water. But they sounded like they were coming through a tunnel or something, muted and slightly echoing. I shut my eyes, counted my breaths, opened them again. I did a toe to head meditation to ground myself in the present. Still, the silence grew thicker and there—again—was the blurriness at the edge of my vision, the colors starting to look more and more faded. And then—
“Emiliaaaaaaa...”
It was behind me—or on top of me, I was sure of it. Quiet and close, the voice repeated my name faster and faster, without getting louder but with the silence all around me deafening me so that the voice and only the voice filled my head. I was frozen, staring at the sand in front of me, unable to turn around.
“Emilia...Emilia...Emilia...”
I squeezed my eyes shut again, willing myself to scream, but my mouth wasn’t working. Or maybe it was—I had no way of knowing.
“Emilia...Emilia...”
There was something horrifyingly familiar about the voice but I refused to let myself think about it. I couldn’t let myself think about it. My stomach churned and I thought I was going to vomit out a lung. Still, I kept my eyes squeezed and kept screaming at my brain to send the signals to my body to move, to run, to scream, to do anything but sit there as the voice got closer and closer, making its way around to face me.
“Emiliaaaaaa...”
There. I could feel something like hot breath on my face. My heart was pounding in my ears. Or maybe that was the silence. If I just opened my eyes...if I could just...
“Wake up.”
I bolted upright, my eyes flying open. My mouth was formed in a big “O” and my jade cracked as I shut it. I was in my room. In my room? I looked around to be sure but, yes, this was my room. Or it was the living room since we didn’t have a second bedroom but I had pretty much converted it into my living space. It was dark and I scrambled around, looking for my phone. 9:02PM.
What? Missed calls from my parents, texts from my dad, but only until around 3:00pm. I stumbled to my feet and towards the kitchen sink, needing to wash the sweat away.
“There she is, la bella durmiente!” My mom walked into the kitchen, annoyance written into every creased line of her face. “We tried to wake you up earlier but you were dead to the world...Dios sabe porque ya que no haces nada, no tienes trabajo...”
I couldn’t even respond to her not so passive aggressive commentaries. My stomach was still churning and I felt hot, too hot, too sick to be standing. What had happened? I couldn’t make sense of it, not in this house. Ignoring my mom’s cries of where I thought I was off to, I grabbed my phone, masks and keys (hanging where they always were by the door, as if I had never left...) and drove back to my spot on the beach.
And here we are now. Sitting on the seaweed-infested shore, full moon above me, writing all this out here in the hopes I can make sense of it. Though, now that it’s all out here, I feel even crazier than when I started. I just fell asleep and dreamt it all, didn’t I? At least it’s here now for someone else to read, for someone else to figure out. If anything else happens, I’ll be back though. Count on it.
But it was probably just a dream. Just quarantine exhaustion. Just pandemic brain.
Although...
I could swear the palm trees just went silent again—but they’re still moving and I can feel the wind on my face.
I can’t hear the ocean anymore either...
Oh God. Please. Not again...
I hear it. The voice. It’s back...I’m posting this before I lose myself again, or lose time again. Please help me.
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lowkeyhockey · 5 years
Text
kiss me once (you know i had a long night) - freddie andersen
Prompt: Do you have any idea who you just pissed off?
Pairing: Freddie Andersen/Single Mother!Reader
Warnings: Mentions of sexual activity
Word Count: 1.9k
Writer’s Notes: Shoutout to my first fic! It’s a oneshot that’s going to be part of a bigger verse titled Can I Go (Where You Go) featuring [Y/N], a single mother, Lila, your five year old daughter, and Freddie Andersen - a man very happy to be dragged along for the ride. Each oneshot fic can be read as a standalone, and the fics won’t have the same rating/warnings, so make sure you check! Thanks so much for reading, and please hmu if you have a prompt/request/critique!
Summary: Someone went to bed a little angry, someone’s utterly exhausted, and someone (probably) needs a cold shower. But hey, we all have our problems 8D
"Do you have any idea who you just pissed off?" 
 Even his famous goalie reflexes couldn't save him from the dinosaur stuffie you threw at his face - and if you were thinking more rationally you'd realise that he'd let you play target practice to let your frustrations out, but you weren't, so you didn't. Still, you couldn't help the slight smile that grew (despite your best efforts) on your face just from watching the bear slowly slide down, its wide, pearly white grin replaced by Freddie's furrowed brow like a real life slide transition.
 But then, seeing Freddie's face usually made you smile. It was kind of a hazard of the job. Maybe someone stronger, someone more used to seeing the kind of gentle concern Freddie currently had in his eyes, might have been better equipped against his face, especially considering the year and a half you'd been together. 
 Someone else might have built up an immunity, or allowed familiarity to breed contempt. But for you, both scenarios were impossible things - more science fiction than possibility - and your poor daughter was suffering for it. 
 Of course, what you called suffering someone else might consider sleeping in her bed, all five years and two hours of her completely turned off from the world, pudgy little arms wrapped around a Carlton the Bear bear Freddie had gotten for her before he'd gone on his roadie. 
 The fact that Carlton had replaced Barney - your birthday present for Lila from last year - in her bed had nothing to do with your using Barney as a makeshift weapon. Nope. You were just doing what every single single mother quickly learned to do - that was, use every single tool in her arsenal to get the job done. 
 Poor Freddie had had to be reminded of it the hard way, the reminder coming barely seconds after he himself had walked through the front door, as quiet about it as thief - or a dad coming home at two am, long after he'd promised his little girl he'd be home. 
 He caught Barney with both hands before the stuffie could hit the ground, left his luggage bag by the door as he walked to you, holding the toy out like a peace offering. God, but he looked gorgeous this way - red hair tousled like he'd ran his hands through it out of frustration a time or ten, those large hands of his dwarfing the toy, his game day suit rumpled in a way that begged you to go and take it off for him. You'd be doing both of you, not to mention the suit, a favour, really. 
More than one suit’s been found with a button missing after Freddie’s had to undress himself, with you waiting for him in your shared bed.
 Freddie in a suit was a sight meant to set your heart racing. Freddie freshly out of a suit - even the idea of it  should probably have sent you into cardiac arrest by now. The fact that you were still standing, still giving him that tired half-smile masquerading as a frown, was probably something of a medical miracle. 
 But then, since meeting Freddie, you'd never managed to forget exactly how lucky you are. 
Lila wasn't allowed to leave her toys lying around and Freddie usually kept to the rule too, and this time he dropped Barney into the toy bin against the wall before he filled his arms with you instead - holding on so tight that you could imagine, for a few seconds, that he was never going to let go. It was nice to dream that he wouldn't, to relax against his solid warmth, to rest your forehead against his shoulder. 
 You couldnt hug him back - his arms were too tight around you, held you too close, and you wanted to tease him about the way he seemed to deliberately keep you from grabbing onto any more weapons - but you couldn't do that, either. 
 Not when he leaned down to brush his lips against your hair, then your temple, then the high point of your cheekbone, sliding down your jaw as though dying for a taste of each last inch of you. He'd pulled far enough away from you by then for you to rest a palm against his chest, huffing out his name and - again - trying to sound more annoyed than amused and - again - failing, and the next time his lips landed against your skin you could feel the way they were twisted into a smile. 
 Solid, stoic Freddie Andersen could barely kiss his girl without breaking out into a grin - you grinned yourself then to feel it, to imagine the way his boys would (and have) hoot in laughter to see it, and that was maybe the signal Freddie needed - the next time his lips landed on you, they landed squarely against your own, his tongue brushing against your lower lip until you relented and allowed him to kiss you more deeply. 
 Allowed him to make you lose your mind, in other words, stealing your breath and making you forget you had a kindergartner in the room right off your living room, the soft glide of his tongue against yours making you wish for his tongue to slide - just as smooth - elsewhere. He knew all of your favourite spots. 
Freddie was the one to pull away, thumb brushing at your lips until you realised you were pouting up at him. Though whether that was because of his late arrival, or Carlton, or the fact that he'd stopped kissing you was up for debate. Come to think of it, there was a lot he needed to make up to you for. 
 "You?" he asked, voice coming out sleep-rough, the one word coming out as half-an exhalation against your lips - making you wish, again, that he was kissing you, would keep kissing you, would let you kiss him all over. 
 But then, communication was - you've been told - a healthy part of any relationship.  
 And his still-furrowed brow look was filled with enough hope to make you laugh aloud, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. "You wish you'd pissed me off," you shoot back, tilting your head to Lila's bedroom door. "She knew you weren't going to make it to her birthday. She's fine with that. But we both hoped you'd be back in time to tuck her in. That was her last night as a five year old." 
 "Okay, but she's been telling everyone she's six for five months now."
 You laugh again, this time at the attack on your daughter - what a mother you are. But Freddie was smiling too, the crease in his brow fading away at the sound of your laughter, so maybe it was okay. By this point, Freddie was almost as much of a parent as you are - god knows he's read more books on the subject than you ever did. 
 "You believed her," you pointed out, curling the fingers of the hand you still had against his chest - a tool at your disposal, ready for use - and pulling him down until you could kiss him again. He allowed you three brief pecks, each time teasing, chuckled low in his chest when you let out a frustrated groan. 
 "Greedy," he chided, and you were just about to tell him exactly how greedy he makes you feel when he tilts his head to Lila's door, looking - again - like someone had had to put down a dog, and it was somehow his fault. 
 Freddie tended to take the whole world onto his shoulders - he did it with his team, he did it with his friends, and he did it with your family - the family he insisted to the world was his, with every little thing he ever did. 
 Like take Lila to family skate, patiently teaching her how to take baby steps and how to get up each time she fell, until she was racing across the ice (while you watched from the entrance to the ice, heart in your throat) by the end of the day. Like stay with you through your last, short stay at the hospital, only leaving to check on Lila at her grandparents' and bring you back illicit treats and fresh clothes. Like book his own seat, in a commercial flight, because the team plane wasn't heading back to Toronto until the day after Lila's birthday.
Was it his faul the plane had been delayed? No. But Lila had been upset that he hadn't gotten back in time for a bedtime story, and Freddie had been upset because he'd planned on surprising Lils at her birthday party, and you'd been upset because 
a) the two people you loved most in the world were unhappy, and
b) you missed him. 
 So when you murmured "five days is way too long for you to be gone," he understood, and believed you, pulling you closer into the curve of his body again. You didn't mean - you never meant - to sound as though you resented his schedule; what mattered was that he came back, and he always did. 
 "She'll probably forgive you when you surprise her with pancakes in bed tomorrow," you told him, and he makes a soft humming sound as though considering it - as though he wasn't already on planning on that, and to use his free day tomorrow to take Lila wherever she wanted - like the zoo. Or an art museum. Or a build-a-bear workshop. See how Carlton likes getting replaced. 
 It was maybe a little mean to talk Freddie into getting out of bed before Lila, who was, in her tiny, infernal heart of hearts the worst kind of morning person, but you knew by then that if Freddie didn't have some kind of way to make amends he'd do more and more ridiculous things out of guilt. That was how Lila had ended up with her own personal bouncy castle last summer - and the castle's still standing, in a room at Freddie's house he's not going to get back until Lila hits middle school at least.
 The smile he gives you, eyes all wrinkled in the corners, is enough to make you feel like a superhero and a Disney villain in one. 
 "Pancakes for the little princess, and for my princess?" he asked, and no matter how many times he's called you that you still blush, just a little, just enough for him to unwind one arm around you to chase the colour with his thumb. 
 "We don't have time for a scene tonight, but maybe tomorrow, hm? I'll get Lila nice and sugared first, then work that energy off at the park or something, and then we'll foist her off onto your parents." 
 You nod then, then, tilt your head back for one last kiss, and this time he gives it to you. The next kiss, he presses against your forehead before he goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth and get ready for bed. The last one, before you fall asleep, you feel pressed into your hand as he brings it up to his lips, the murmured "I love you" he said to you in Danish understandable only because he's said it so many times. 
 Unlike your poor little daughter, you fall asleep content. 
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prettywordsyouleft · 5 years
Text
Defining Roles
Summary: Minhyun wasn’t sure why Daehwi was so against being in his class again this year, and this made him hesitant about what role he would have in your son’s life.
Pairing: Hwang Minhyun x reader (ft. Lee Daehwi)
Genre: teacher au / parent au / fluff
Warnings: none
A/N: This is the sequel to Life Lessons, and also dedicated to the wonderful @notsosubtlekpop who without her request earlier in the year, we wouldn’t be blessed with teacher Minhyun in the first place. Happy birthday, beautiful <3
This story is part of a world previously created. Whilst you don’t need to have read it before this one, it will put more into context. You can read Life Lessons HERE.
Word count: 2120
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“Not againnnnnn!”
Minhyun glanced up from setting the table for dinner, watching as the child ran over to your side grumbling. You shot Minhyun a confused expression before looking down at your son. “What’s wrong, Daehwi?”
“Daehwi got the best gift ever!” the other child who entered the living room behind him announced, puffing up her cheeks in annoyance. She walked over to Minhyun’s side and shot him a disgruntled look. “Don’t you think this is unfair, Daddy?”
“I’m in Minhyun’s class, again!” Daehwi announced to everyone and you moved over to the table, placing down the serving dish before turning to your son.
“You had so much fun being taught by Minhyun before,” you pointed out as you gestured for your son to take a seat at the table and Daehwi slumped down into his chair, nodding his head dramatically.
“That was when I was a kid. I’m eight now, Mum!”
“And I’m nine but I wouldn’t complain if my Dad got to teach me. He never has! You’re so lucky, Daehwi!” Sohyun spat back and Minhyun groaned, resting his face within the palm of his hand. Looking through his fingers, he noticed the small smile playing on your lips.
Daehwi continued, ignoring the serving of pasta you had just placed on his plate. “More like unlucky!”
“Hey, I happen to be present in this room, you know,” Minhyun finally piped up but Daehwi’s hard gaze was unrelenting. He sighed at the boy. “What’s so bad about being back in my class? I’m a good teacher!”
“Yeah, but you’re dating my Mum now. All the kids will tease me as soon as they find out! Don’t you think that’s wrong? Why are you teaching my age group anyway? Can’t you go back to teaching the babies? I liked you better then.”
“Gee, thanks for that.”
You hissed at your son before shooting Minhyun a placating smile. “No one needs to know who your teacher is with, Daehwi.”
“Everyone probably already does, he has a photo of us all on his desk,” the child retorted glumly which made Minhyun clear his throat awkwardly.
Admittedly, he hadn’t expected this either. He had only found out the finalised school teaching roster earlier in the day, with Daehwi’s sudden addition to his class. However, he hadn’t been as dismissive about the idea as Daehwi. Dating you had been the best thing that had happened to Minhyun aside from the birth of his daughter Sohyun. He had never expected to feel as fulfilled as a human ever again. You were definitely his better half, and Minhyun was incredibly fond of Daehwi as well. Although you had only just started living together over the summer when you got engaged, he considered Daehwi just as much his own child as Sohyun. He would do anything for his needs and supported him easily. In Minhyun’s eyes, Daehwi was rambunctious compared to Sohyun, yet he loved the boy far too much already.
So it hurt that Daehwi was so against him being his teacher again.
Of course, Minhyun did understand. He was at an age where peer pressure and socialising started to make more of an impact on a youngster’s daily life. Daehwi only wanted to fit in. Being the teacher’s child – related or not – could have a negative impact on how they treated him.
Minhyun nodded, deflated. He wouldn’t tell Daehwi how much he had been excited to teach him again. “I’ll have a word with the office and see if you can swap classes.”
“You can’t do that!” Daehwi cried, completely aghast by the suggestion. Minhyun frowned, glancing at you for back up.
You reached out for Daehwi’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Why not?”
“Woojin and Jinyoung are going to be in my class too! I don’t want to leave my friends!” Daehwi folded his arms across his chest petulantly. “Minhyun should just go back to teaching babies!”
“Stop being a brat and eat your dinner, Daehwi,” Sohyun grumbled and the younger child whined loudly, causing you and Minhyun to step in and break up the argument before it grew any deeper.
Later that evening, when the children were nestled in their beds fast asleep, Minhyun sat down beside you on the sofa with a heavy sigh. You opened your arms and he moved into your embrace, relishing in the gentle circles you rubbed on his back. “I’m sorry Daehwi was insensitive tonight.”
“I don’t blame him, for someone his age this must seem like a nightmare.”
You chuckled softly. “I’m with Sohyun, if I was lucky enough to be taught by you, I’d lap it up.”
“Would you now?” he asked, looking up at your smiling face. You nodded brightly and Minhyun placed a chaste kiss on your lips before settling back onto your shoulder. “At least you would like my lessons.”
“I learned a lot from you when you taught him last time. In fact, if you hadn’t taught him…”
“We wouldn’t be looking at marriage in the near future, huh?” Minhyun finished off, smiling warmly as he thought of the happy prospect of the next step in life, fingering the ring he had placed on your hand affectionately. He faltered then, letting out a small groan when Daehwi’s face reappeared in his troubled thoughts. “I don’t want Daehwi to hate me.”
“How can he? He loves you as much as I love Sohyunnie. We’re a family, Min.”
“What should I do then? I can’t do what he wants, it’s my turn to teach this age group,” he mentioned and you brushed Minhyun’s hair away from his face, leaning in to kiss him softly.
“Don’t change it. He’ll be fine.”
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With the way Daehwi was glaring at Minhyun on the first day of school, he wondered if your advice had been the right choice. He had removed the evidence of any family portraits from his desk, ensuring there was nothing that would upset Daehwi further. In this classroom, he was Mr Hwang, not his impending step-father. He had always remained professional with all his students and he wouldn’t change that just because he was engaged to you. Just as he had when he was dating you and teaching Daehwi a couple of years ago, he would maintain the barrier between professional and personal lives maturely.
He just hoped Daehwi would find it in himself to do the same thing eventually.
“Isn’t Mr Hwang dating your Mum, Hwi-ah?” Woojin murmured when morning break was called and his friend glanced at his teacher with round eyes, the panic clear from across the room. Minhyun went to move but then Daehwi turned back to Woojin, rolling his eyes.
“Unfortunately,” he replied flippantly, causing Minhyun’s heart to crumble at the edges.
Maybe the stigma of being in his class would be too much for Daehwi after all.
Minhyun grew anxious over teaching his students. The first week was awkward, with it soon established with all the children that Daehwi was in fact at an advantage.
Or in a particular child’s eyes, a great disadvantage.
In the second week of school, Daehwi refused to ride to school in the same car with Sohyun and Minhyun. You told Minhyun that you would talk with him about it and for now would bring him to school on your way to work. He tried not to let Daehwi’s attitude break his spirit completely, but Minhyun felt more exhausted at the end of each school day.
The only thing keeping him going was that despite it all, Daehwi didn’t once stop coming to school, and he continued to put in a great amount of effort with his school work.
The first assignment for the term was to write a page about what was most important to the student. Minhyun expected a varying of answers, some children would list off their favourite possessions or a sport they enjoyed. But he knew most students would mention a little about their family as well.
“Has everyone handed in their assignments?” Minhyun addressed the class, smiling brightly. The majority nodded or shouted a positive answer back and he chuckled, pointing to the door to the room. “Then you can be excused. Have a great weekend everyone!”
The noise in the room grew louder as chairs scraped across the floor and the classroom emptied out into the afternoon sun.
All apart from one student. Minhyun glanced up from the equipment he was tidying to see the piece of paper thrust in his face. “Oh Daehwi, is this your assignment?”
With ears crimson and a quick nod of his head, he let go of the paper, mumbling a goodbye before speeding out of the room.
Reaching down for the assignment, Minhyun took it over to his desk, planning on leaving it there to mark when he was done packing up, but a sentence jumped out and caught his attention, his body blindly folding to sit in his chair as he hurried back to the top to read what was written. By the time he finished, he brushed aside his tears, looking at the door.
Minhyun gathered up the assignments and put them in his bag, dashing out of the building and to the parking lot, where his hurried steps stopped, finding Daehwi waiting awkwardly by his car. He knew that Sohyun had gymnastics practise today and you would pick her up on the way home from work. But lately, your son had been catching the bus home and going to his grandparents until Minhyun or you were home.
He hadn’t been prepared to find the boy waiting for him.
Without saying anything, Minhyun unlocked the car, and both of them got into it, pulling out of the school lot and heading for home. Minhyun didn’t know what to say, his emotions were all over the place. He wondered if Daehwi would even want to talk about it.
It was Daehwi who spoke up first. “Did… did you read it?”
“I have.”
Silence filled the car once again.
“Will you tell Mum about it?” he eventually asked and Minhyun glanced briefly at the nervous child beside him and then back at the road.
“Do you not want me to?”
“Are you going to do what I want you to?”
Minhyun hesitated to answer, before nodding. “I will, for you.”
“Then you can tell her,” Daehwi announced, going back to looking out the car window.
Minhyun remained on tenterhooks until you arrived home, his eyes peeling for yours as soon as Sohyun opened the front door. You seemed equally as wired when you found Daehwi home already. After placing a gentle kiss on Minhyun’s cheek, you went over to your son. “Do you know how worried I was when I got a phone call from Grandpa about you not getting off the school bus today?! What happened?”
Daehwi glanced over at Minhyun before returning his focus to yours. “…Dad brought me home.”
“W-what?” you breathed, following Daehwi’s stare back to Minhyun. “Dad, as in…”
Minhyun nodded, clearing his throat unsteadily. Sohyun looked around the room and then gasped noisily. “Are you calling my Dad your Dad too?!”
This seemed to break the emotionally charged atmosphere completely. “Well, you call my Mum your Mum!”
“Yeah, because she is going to be my Mum!”
“And he’s going to be my Dad too! Don’t be so greedy!” Daehwi bit back and started chasing Sohyun around, both children exclaiming they wouldn’t refer to each other as siblings adamantly.
Coming over to Minhyun’s side with tears welling in your eyes, you slid your arms around his waist and leaned in. “What brought this all on?”
“Daehwi chose this. He wrote in his assignment that the most important thing he had in his world was you, and then us. That he was the happiest knowing that he would have a Dad who cared about him and couldn’t wait to call me his Dad proudly.”
“Oh my God,” you breathed, and Minhyun chuckled, his tears falling into your hair as he hugged you tightly. “I thought he was struggling with the idea of you being his teacher, not what your true role in his life was.”
“It took me just as long as you to figure this out,” he commented, looking over at the younger pair now hugging and giggling about being a proper family soon.
Minhyun had always thought that having Sohyun in his world was enough. But watching as his new family was growing attached to the idea of being officially just that made him realise that this was exactly what he had hoped for since he met you and Daehwi two years ago.
He felt like the luckiest man in the world.
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mssjynx · 5 years
Text
Take My Hand
soulmate au .  ohmtoonz fic .  2409 words . 
a/n- this is my part of the april-may event! i was in a team with @random-fandomness-trash- this is my half of it and she’s done art and a comic for her half! so go check out what she’s done too!!
gnome’s piece!
-
To fall in love with one who is not your soulmate is regarded as a mistake in the makings of a person. It’s a fault to have a heart for anyone other than your other half. It’s an insult and a crime and crimes must be punished.
There was a man who committed this crime in the previous century, who fell in love with a man who did not wear the same soul mark as he did.
The Gods would not stand for such a sin.
They struck him down, sentencing himself to the prison of his own frozen body; hardened in a material too strong to cut, too heavy to move. His only chance of freedom would be at the hands of his true soulmate. The touch of his one true love would set him free, but certain was it that this soulmate of his would no longer live for he had been frozen for years and years.
His story became one of fairy tales and children’s books. A warning, possibly, to those who believed the history, and a joke of sorts to those who didn’t. Yet still, the land surrounding the frozen man was preserved, centred in a park with a plague at his feet, explaining the lore of his story.
It became an attraction within the small town, a ritual for anyone who entered to grasp the hand of the statue to see if it was them who he was waiting for. But for years and years, he remained in this state and it became simply a site for tourists to pose and take photos at. There were hundreds upon thousands of hands that had grasped his, but not one had the power to put air back in his lungs.
Not until Luke.
-
“You can’t seriously believe that shit, right?” His southern drawl was loud and crass in the quiet little cafe. Luke and Jon were one of the three tables occupied, two young baristas making sure everyone was well fed and satisfied.
The town they were staying in was small as it was, the two men having gone together to visit an old friend from their high school. It was their final day before their train was due out of there and they had far too much time for far too little of a place. Luke hadn’t even realised it was the home of the frozen man until Jon had brought it up as a suggestion for something to do.
“Of course I do!” Jon said, not noticing how his coffee spilled as he dropped it roughly back onto the table. The blue of his eyes flashed in insult as Luke snickered, sitting back into the cushioning of the booth. “It- It’s real, y’know? I know it is! He was- The Gods froze him in… was it nineteen-twelve or… or fifteen…”
“Nineteen-thirteen.” The barista’s age showed in the youth of her face, certainly not even out of school yet as she cleanly wiped the coffee spill with a cloth. “That statue’s been there since before my grandparents were born,” she explained, “but no one built it. No one can move it, no one can break it, no one can change a single thing about it; it ain’t just a stone statue, there’s a heart under that rock waiting for it’s chance to start beatin’ again.”
With those words, she took Luke’s empty cup and swept back to the front of the cafe. Luke watched her go with mild interest, yet suspicion.
“S- See!? I told you I knows what I’m talkin’ about!” Jon explained, jabbing a finger in Luke’s direction and grinning at the older man’s rolled eyes. He lit up with his next thought, childish glee jumping in his eyes. “Maybe he’s your long lost soulmate!”
Luke stood, sighing as he threw his jacket over his arm. “Now you’re just being stupid,” he said, stepping out of the booth and starting towards the door. He didn’t wait as Jon rushed after him, collecting his things and finishing his drink. It wasn’t until he was across the road that his friend caught up, grumbling as he shuffled his bag around until it was comfortably on his back.
Still, his childish excitement returned when he realised where Luke was headed.
-
The statue was a piece of the park. Like the trees, rose bushes, park benches and footpaths; people moved around it without so much as a curious glance, following the wide paths around it and not bothering to spare the plaque a glance. It was a message all the locals knew well enough; there was no surprise with the statue after so many years.
When Luke and Jon arrived, Jon was overjoyed, of course. He shoved his film camera into Luke’s hands and pranced up the little pebble path to where the frozen man stood, looking out past Luke and holding his hand out with a sense of hesitation, waiting for someone to take it, waiting for someone to reassure him.
Luke felt his stomach twist as he examined the statue and was yanked back to the present as Jon giggled, rubbing his hands together. He rolled his eyes. “You already have a soulmate, dipshit, what are you doing?” he asked, lifting the camera nevertheless.
Jon had met his soulmate in college, of course making a mess of the entire situation. He’d been carrying four coffees for his arts team, rushing down the corridors of his dormitory only to crash into Evan, a music major, and pouring burning coffee down both of their fronts. It was a wonder that Evan even forgived the idiot for burning both of their chests so badly but all he needed was to take one look at Evan while he was in the same room as Jon to see the complete love and adoration in his deep brown eyes.
“You never know!” Jon called before snapping both hands around the frozen man’s fingers, not even trying to take a nice pose as he beamed at the camera as Luke took a few photos and hit the recording button. “Sorry Ev!” Jon called, throwing both arms around the waist of the statue. “I’m frozen and he’s taking my heart with him!” he blurted out, no rational flow or sense in his cry as he ignored the weird looks an old couple sent him. Luke just laughed, ending the video and lowering the camera as Jon bounded back down the path to his side. “Now you!”
Luke huffed, but allowed Jon to shove him towards the statue. If he refused, he knew the man would just cause a fuss until he did it. So he walked up the path towards the state, ignoring the way his insides squirmed as he grew closer.
It was just a dumb statue tied to a dumb legend. Fifty percent of the things that came out of Jonathan’s mouth were absolute bullshit, but the eerie details of their barista’s words remained in the forefront of his mind.
“C’mon, old man!” Jon crowed. “Any slower and we’ll miss dinner!”
Luke ignored him, stepping up onto the concrete that was cemented around statue. It was clear that the structure and paths had been built around the statue; that the town had either chosen not to, or physically could not, move the statue to where they wanted it.
He didn’t let his mind dwell on it, his stomach rumbling as a reminder that he wanted to get back to their hotel room soon. He stood beside the state, finely made with detail and unique features. It was so… human; a man slightly shorter than Luke with a look of lost hope frozen into his face.
He turned to Jon, pulling a lame smile before reaching up and slipping his fingertips from the inside of the statue’s wrist along the palm of its hand. He linked their fingers, no explanation to why his own touch was so gentle when addressing the stone.
He didn’t get to think about it as a dull crack sounded from the stone, the click of the camera barely registering in his mind. His attention was locked on the arm of the hand he held, a thick crack splintering the stone. As he watched, the crack grew, sounding loud and clear as the stone shifted and pieces crumbled away to the concrete below.
“What the fuck?” Jon asked, taking three steps forward before stopping as the stone snapped loudly and the concrete of the arm fell away, crashing to the ground. The stone crumbled between Luke’s fingers, the southerner unable to move or speak as he gawked, bare skin between his fingers exposed to the sunlight. The stone didn’t crumble away to nothing; instead it fell away to reveal a real arm of a real person.
Luke blinked in disbelief, mouth agape with no words as the cracks bolted up to the statue’s shoulder. Then there were cracks everywhere. Striking up his legs, down his chest, across his face. Dust and pieces and chunks of stone fell around them and Luke wasn’t able to pull his hand away. The fingers between his were bare, concrete falling from his own hand as the thin fingers and small hand grew heavy and weighted in his hand, no longer frozen in place.
Those fingers curled, pushing into Luke’s hand and gripping his tight enough to hurt, yet Luke didn’t notice. Before he could take another breath, the body revealed by stone was falling, collapsing towards him and crashing into his chest. One hand wound in his. The other arm thrown over his shoulders. The dead weight of an exhausted person; a being who hasn’t had to stand for himself for decades.
“Holy shit.” Luke didn’t hear Jon’s muttering from where the man stood a few metres away. “Holy fuck.”
Luke couldn’t stop himself from sinking too, the weight and his disbelief too much as he dropped to his knees with the statue’s body in his arms. Shouts. Shrieks. Hollars and cheers. People from the park who hadn’t spared a glance to the statue were crowded in a circle around the concrete platform, empty of a statue but holding the two bodies of Luke and the condemned man.
“You’re real!?” Luke gasped, his first words admittedly not his smoothest. The man in his arms lifted his head with what looked like an immense effort. Crystal clear green eyes. Full of wonder. Full of life. Full of confusion and fear and pain. But full of wonder. “Are you- Are you okay?”
A slow blink. A look around. Confusion and fear; he didn’t seem to know where to look and in the end, his eyes returned to Luke. “Where am I? What- Who are you?”
“Luke. I’m- I think I’m your soulmate.” Without thinking about it, his fingers skated up the man’s arm, turning it to reveal the little, unique tattoo marked into the soft, pale skin. The same tattoo marked into the same place of Luke’s arm. “What’s your name?”
He exposed his own tattoo and the statue stared. “Ryan,” he mumbled. “What… What year is it?”
“It’s twenty-nineteen!” A shout from the crowd. Ryan’s eyes widened.
“I’ve been… I’ve been frozen for over a century?” Those beautiful eyes lifted back up to Luke. “That’s… I couldn’t find you. You didn’t- didn’t exist in my… my time. You were here.”
“You’re here now,” he whispered, not thinking clearly as he pushed fingers through Ryan’s hair. “You’re alright, you’re not hurt or anything. You’re free.” He didn’t know where the words were coming from, his senses overwhelmed and mind numb, but it seemed they were doing their job as the gasping man against his chest seemed to settle into his hold.
Jon finally dropped down beside them, meeting Ryan’s eyes with awe. “I’m Jon,” he whispered, speaking as if meeting someone famous. Luke guessed Ryan wasn’t far from it; his photo was plastered all over the internet with millions of different people.
“Do you remember what happened?” he asked, drawing Ryan’s attention back to him with two fingers against his jawline.
A slow nod. “The Gods were punishing me,” he said. “For fall- falling in love with someone that wasn’t… someone who wasn’t you…” His pause was shaky and the air around them was silent; those who watched were speechless. “They froze me there. You- You found me,” he whispered, fingers shaking when reaching up to sliding his palm against Luke’s cheek.
Luke leaned into the touch, smiling gently. “I found you,” he repeated back to the man. “Do you- Me and Jon are goin’ home- back to Colorado and you can come with us if you want… It’ll be a lot. So much has changed while you’ve been… asleep, but I don’t want to leave you.”
It hardly felt like the words were his own. Ryan cast his gaze around. “How will we get there?” he asked, words quiet as he tried to take in the place he used to call home, the place that had changed so drastically.
“We’ll fly home,” Luke supplied, not realising his mistake until the fear jumped in Ryan’s gaze.
“Fly!?” he gasped and a few laughs were heard as Luke hesitated.
“Uhh, we- we have planes now that- they’re really safe! That’s how we travel across the country,” he explained. It hit him how much Ryan had really missed out on. He didn’t know mobile phones, he didn’t know about the internet, the modern world that surrounded him. “There’s a lot of things we do and have that you won’t understand,” he murmured, holding Ryan’s gaze with one of assurance and honesty. “You can trust me,” he promised.
“Okay,” was the small response he got. “I trust you.” His fingers brushed over the mark on the inside of Luke’s arm and Luke leaned down to bump their heads together.
“Let’s get you back to our hotel,” he said, arms tight around Ryan as he pulled them both to his feet. He didn’t remove his arm from Ryan’s waist as they went, keeping him close as he gawked at the buildings, the cars, the devices people held. Luke couldn’t help his little smile, watching Ryan take in a world completely new to him.
There was no denying the beauty in his face. There was no denying the clench of his heart as they touched. There was no denying that this was the best vacation he’d ever been on.
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yuribalisms · 5 years
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I can’t take living with my mom and her husband anymore. I thought I could handle a month, but I really, really can’t. 
So a few weeks ago, my dog got really sick. He’s going to be fine, but he has to take an antibiotic for a while. Well, he really doesn’t like the taste of the pill, and by now, he’s figured out pretty much every trick we’ve come up with to get him to take it, so sometimes it takes a while to get him to take the pill. This morning he was being especially difficult, and I was getting kind of irritated by that point and my mom actually said with complete seriousness, “He won’t take it because you have such a bad attitude.” She’d already acted like she was kind of mad at me this morning anyways (probably because they made breakfast, which they don’t normally do, and I probably looked pissed off the entire time because they woke me up cooking and then forced me to sit at the table and eat with them even though I don’t like food that early, nor do I like pancakes and sausage). So yeah, between the breakfast thing and being irritated with the dog I kind of snapped, “Why are you always so mad at me?” and she said “I hate the way you talk, I can’t stand it.” And like..... wow. Of course, I always knew she didn’t like my personality, the way I present myself, and yes, the way I talk about things, but to hear her say it so blatantly..... hurt a lot more than I want to admit. 
She left me to finish trying to get the dog to take to take his medicine and clean up the kitchen (the kind of mess that can only be made when allowing ten year olds to make pancakes). Then a few minutes later, I heard her and her husband yelling at each other in their room, and he was pissed at me. Pissed because I didn’t thank him for breakfast, pissed because yesterday I went out with one of the few friends I hadn’t seen yet for a few hours without telling him (and mind you, I went out while he was at work, where he can’t answer the phone, even if I called him to tell him). He was yelling about how rude and ungrateful and disrespectful I was. 
I don’t know what to do! I try so hard to give him what he wants, to make my time home smoother for everybody (when I lived here, shit like this happened everyday). I’m doing most of the housework, I make sure to tell him hi and ask how his day was when he gets home from work. I’ve not asked him to do anything for me. I’m not driving any of his cars and have been relying on other people to get place to place. I even went out and bought him a Christmas present because I was trying so hard just to make him happy for everyone else’s sake while I’m home and literally no matter what I do, he’s just so angry at me. I literally can’t please him, and I don’t really know what else to try. 
Because they were mad, I started doing extra housework (catching up on laundry for everyone, picking up, washing the extra dishes that wouldn’t fit in the dish washer), so that maybe they would notice when they stopped fighting and it would... I don’t know, lessen what was coming. I don’t think they even noticed. I hid in my room when I was done, and I guess my mom felt sorry enough to “apologize” for what she said. It wasn’t really an apology, all she said was “Was it you who started the washer? I’m feeling kind of bad today so my mood’s off” and then she asked me to watch a movie and play games with them later, but I’m scared to come out of my room because I feel like her husband is going to start screaming at me. Normally it’s not a big deal, I just shut down and let him get it out of his system, but I really don’t want that to happen with all the kids here. They don’t need to deal with that. 
I cancelled my New Years plans with my friends, because I thought it would make them happy to stay here with them, but me being here has already made it worse. They’ve been being so controlling and angry recently that even other family members have talked to them about it and stood up for me. Family members that have never been on my side before, and honestly, that’s kind of terrifying. My grandma got onto my mom for not letting me go out with friends (friends that I hadn’t had the chance to see in months). Two of my aunts talked to her about being so controlling and how it was ridiculous, considering how old I am and the fact that I don’t technically even live with her anymore. Basically they told her to start treating me like an actual person. 
I don’t know, I’m considering staying with my grandparents or my uncle for the rest of the break. It’s mentally exhausting to be here. Hell, I’m almost scared being here. And it’s not really better for anyone else. They all claim they want me around, but me being around literally just causes this, no matter what I do or how I try to please them. I’m just so tired. 
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thelastspeecher · 5 years
Text
Story Time
I usually like to include in the title of the post what AU the write is from, but this particular AU has such a long name that I don’t really want to.  This takes place in the Reverse Portal Stanley McGucket AU, and is a rare write that takes place from Lute’s perspective.  It’s not quite as Lute-centric as the thing I’ll be posting tomorrow, since it focuses a bit more on Stangie memories.  But still, we get some good Lute thoughts into what is going on in this tragic AU.
              “Uncle Lute, look!”  Lute looked up from the dishes he was currently in the process of washing.  His niece Daisy ran over, proudly holding a piece of paper.  Lute smiled and dried his hands.
              “What’s this?” he asked.
              “My teacher left a note on my project, sayin’ I’ve got potential in science she’s never seen before!” Daisy enthused.  Lute chuckled.  He took the piece of paper.  It was the results of her fourth-grade science fair project.  Angie had helped, but Daisy had insisted on doing the majority of the work on her own.
              “I ain’t all that surprised,” he said, ruffling her hair.  “Yer quite the smartie.  Just like yer ma.”  Daisy beamed. “Ya told her when she picked ya up, I assume?”  Daisy nodded. “Good.  I can put it on the fridge right away, then.”  Lute walked over to the fridge and stuck the paper on the door with a magnet shaped like a salamander.  He heard the front door open again.
              “Ma, are ya goin’ to tell us?” Emory’s voice asked eagerly.
              “Yes, sweetie, just let me take a seat in the livin’ room, okay?” Angie’s voice said.  Lute pursed his lips.  Angie was frequently tired, particularly since she started to help Ford with his research on the Gravity Falls anomalies, in addition to her own.  But the exhaustion in her voice wasn’t physical. It was emotional.  And that pointed to his missing brother-in-law.
              I knew they’d start askin’ about him eventually. The breadcrumbs Danny ‘n Daisy have, or what all Stanford ‘n myself tell ‘em isn’t enough.  They want to hear about Stan from their mother.
              “Don’t start without me!” Daisy said suddenly.  She darted out of the kitchen.  Lute took a deep breath and followed her into the living room.  Angie entered and took a seat on the couch.  Emily and Emmett, six years old and just done with their first week of school, climbed up next to her.  Daisy sat on the floor in front of the couch.  Danny joined her.
              “Angie,” Lute said softly.  Angie looked up.  In the seven years that had passed since Stan’s disappearance, the bright caramel color of her hair had started to fade, and she’d been forced to wear reading glasses regularly.  Lute couldn’t help but wonder if the stress of everything that had happened was what caused her to age so quickly.
              “I’m fine, Lute,” Angie said with a forced smile.  Lute leaned against the wall.
              “You don’t have to talk about him.  I can tell ‘em another story.”
              “No, we wanna hear about Dad from Ma!” Emmett protested from Angie’s lap. Lute blinked, surprised.  Emmett was the black sheep of his siblings, quiet and unsure.  He very rarely raised his voice, and even more rarely wasn’t willing to compromise.
              Maybe he’s finally gettin’ some stubbornness in him.  Lute smiled. Good.  Stan wouldn’t want a kid who’s willing to back down.
              “It’s fine, really,” Angie said to Lute.  She took a deep breath.  “It’s been seven years.  I can talk.”
              “Okay,” Lute replied.  He stayed where he was, determined to step in if Angie became too emotional to carry on.
              “What do ya want to hear about, babies?” Angie asked, stroking Emmett’s hair.
              “What was Dad like?” Emmett asked.  Angie smiled faintly.
              “It’d take a long time to explain everything about him,” she said.  “Like all people, he’s complex.”
              “Ma,” Danny piped up.  “Don’t dance around the question.”
              “All right, all right.  He’s stubborn.  Stubborn as a mule.  Loyal, willin’ to do anything to protect those he cares about.  He has issues showin’ emotion in front of people at times. He’d try to downplay anything he did to be kind as him doin’ just ‘cause it didn’t inconvenience him.  His voice would get all gruff when he talked about yer sisters, ‘cause it was the only way to hide how proud he is of ‘em, and how much he loves ‘em.”
              She’ll never stop usin’ present-tense, will she.
              “How did you two meet?” Danny asked.  Angie raised an eyebrow.
              “I know you’ve heard that story.”
              “Yeah, but not from you.”  Danny leaned forward.  “Did ya know he was the love of yer life the second ya laid eyes on him?”  Angie laughed.
              “Not by any means.  I was sixteen and hadn’t even left the state before.  I couldn’t feel any emotion other than curiosity until I got to know him.” Angie looked over at a photo on the wall, of her and Stan’s high school graduation.  “Most of the first interactions we had, I was confused how someone could be so obtuse.  He was a real fish outta water on the farm.”
              “But he got better,” Daisy said.  Angie nodded.
              “Yes.  He got better.”
              “How did ya know he was the one?” Danny asked.  Lute let out a small huff of amusement.
              There she goes, the hopeless romantic.  Lord, am I goin’ to have fun terrorizin’ her dates when she gets older.
              “I’m not quite sure,” Angie replied after a moment.  She untangled a knot in Emmett’s hair.  “It wasn’t one moment.  It was a series of moments that all built up.”
              “What were-” Danny started.
              “Where is he?” Emmett interrupted.  Angie’s face broke.  Lute stood straighter.
              “…I don’t know,” Angie whispered.
              “We’ve answered that question, Emmett,” Lute said.  Emmett looked over at him.
              “Yeah, but yer lyin’,” Emmett said firmly.
              “No, we were tellin’ the truth.”
              “No.  It doesn’t make sense,” Emmett insisted.
              And already his new stubbornness is comin’ to bite us in the butt.  He really is Stan’s son.
              “Honey, yer Uncle Ford was there,” Angie said gently.  “He saw what happened.”
              “Yeah.  Right after he and Dad had a big fight.  Uncle Ford could be lying to cover his tracks.  He probably is.  ‘Cause it doesn’t make any sense fer Dad to be- be wherever Uncle Ford’s machine took him!”
              “Junior,” Lute snapped, using the nickname he had come up with when Emmett was five and wanted to go by his middle name, Stanley.  “Yer on thin ice.”  Emmett glared at him.
              “I just want to know what really happened!” Emmett said, crossing his arms. “Dad shoulda been here!  He wasn’t!  If it’s Uncle Ford’s fault-”  A single tear traced its way down Angie’s cheek and landed on Emmett.  He looked at Angie, startled.  “O-oh.  Sorry, Ma.”
              “I’m fine,” Angie said.  She rubbed her eyes.  “I just don’t like thinkin’ ‘bout- ‘bout where yer dad is right now.”  Emory embraced Angie.
              “Ma, don’t cry,” Emory said softly.  Angie smiled through her tears.
              “Fer you, I’ll hold ‘em back.”
              “I’ll be quiet now,” Emmett mumbled.
              “You don’t need to be fer my sake, honey-bun,” Angie said.  Her voice was still thick with tears.  Emmett shook his head.
              “No, I- we should talk ‘bout the good things,” he said.  Angie stroked Emmett’s cheek.  “I don’t wanna think about him bein’ somewhere bad, either.”
              “Thank you, sweetie.”  Angie took a shuddering breath.  “Danny, the first time I knew yer father and I had somethin’ was when we moved in together. He jumped at the chance to move out of yer grandparents’ house, across the country, with no plan fer a job or anything.  Just so he could live with me.  Everything that happened after just made me more sure of it.  Our bickerin’ over the thermostat, me draggin’ him to museums and forests, him draggin’ me to sporting events.  The way- the way he’d just laugh if I jumped onto his back, takin’ on the challenge to carry me to whatever my destination was.”  Angie’s eyes grew misty with memory.  “The way he smelled and felt.  And…the day he proposed, blurting it out without thinkin’, without even havin’ the ring on him.”  Danny’s eyes widened.
              “Wait, how did Dad propose if he didn’t have a ring?” she asked.  Lute cocked his head, curious as well.
              I don’t think she ever told anyone how Stan proposed.  Angie smiled fondly.
              “We were down in the mines, and yer father kept tryin’ to get me to go to this fancy restaurant I liked.  But I ignored it, said I was fine traipsin’ ‘round underground.  I didn’t pay attention to what was goin’ on, and yer father had to rescue me from bein’ eaten by somethin’.  He tackled me, we rolled down a hill, and there, at the base of the hill, with me starin’ up at him, he asked me to marry him.”  Angie let out a small wistful sigh.  “Never did find out what exactly prompted him to pop the question then and there.  Knowin’ him, it probably just felt right.  And it did.  It was special.  Way more special than if it had happened at a restaurant.”
              “Aw,” Danny gushed.
              “I can see why ya kept that story a secret,” Lute said softly.  “It’s a sweet one.”
              “Yep.  And Stan’s got that hard shell.  He wouldn’t want folks to know he’s secretly sappy.”
              “He’s gonna come back, right?” Emory asked.  Angie nodded.
              “Yes,” she said.  “He will.” Lute’s heart sunk.
              She’s never goin’ to move on.
              “I think that’s enough story fer today,” Angie said briskly.  “Y’all have some homework, and I have some data to write up.”  The children grumbled, but gradually dispersed.  Once all four children were gone, Lute joined Angie on the couch. She was staring at the photo on the mantel of Stan, Angie, Danny, and Daisy during their first Halloween as a family. Stan and Angie were dressed as robbers, and the infant Danny and Daisy as sacks of money.
              “Banjey, it’s not right to get their hopes up like that,” Lute said in an undertone.
              “I know you don’t think he’ll come back,” Angie said softly.  “But I know my husband.  He’d do anything to come back to his fam’ly.  It’s not gettin’ their hopes up to let ‘em know that one day, their dad will be back.  It’s preparin’ ‘em fer the future.”  She stood. “I really do have research to work on.” She walked away.  Lute sighed.
              “Learn to keep yer darn mouth shut, McGucket,” he said to himself.  He stood up and walked over to the mantel to pick up the Halloween picture.  In the background, he could just make out Ford with his back turned, helping Tate go trick-or-treating.
              If there was anyone who could bring Stan back, it’d be Stanford.  And if there was anyone who could survive alternate realities to come back home to his family, it’d be Stan.  He set the picture back on the mantel.  Maybe I should try bein’ optimistic like Angie fer once.  It’d sure be better than assuming my brother’s dead.  He let out a sigh.
              “Somethin’ to ruminate on,” he said quietly.  He turned away from the mantel.
              Now, back to the dishes.
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europeanguy · 5 years
Text
Gotta Gogh [Part 5.2: From Cordonia]
Pairing: Nadia x Maxwell
Words: 2.3k
Tags/Warnings: Canon Divergence, Crossovers, time skips and POV changes, cheesy lines and a sprinkle of angst… maybe
Your brother is the Duke, he manages the duchy of Ramsford and the estate, he has people relying on him and people who trust him, he makes sure that House Beaumonts’ legacy doesn’t go up in flames – where do you fit in?
Where do I fit in?
The limo hits some bumps in the road, and Maxwell hits his head on something weirdly shaped. He comes to a few seconds later, realizing he’s been dozing off on his brother’s shoulder. Bertrand isn’t too fussed, he’s too busy reading something on his iPad. How Bertrand could read in a moving vehicle, he will never understand. He switches it off, uttering something about ‘needing coffee and do you want some?’. But Maxwell knows that his older brother is just being gentle on him, too gentle that it makes his mind race thinking about the worst possible case scenarios. Could all of Ramsford have burned down? Did anyone they know die? Did he get somebody pregnant?
Or maybe it’s just because Bertrand had found him with semi-wet clothes and damp, red, eyes – this sad, sad being that entered through the doors of their house in the capital.
Maxwell shakes his head no to the coffee, then shoves a hand in his pocket to make sure its still there. He traces its rounded edges, feeling its carvings press indents into his skin. And it’s a little bit comforting. He takes it out and looks at this cartoony miniature of the Eiffel Tower, bronze, with “Paris” written across the length of it in big bold words.
He and Nadia had laughed at the tackiness of it all. And yet they wore matching t-shirts proudly saying “Bonjour!”.
So, she bought one of the pocket-sized Eiffel Towers when he wasn’t looking.
Maxwell rolls his shoulders and straightens up, getting stiff in the seats. Bertrand preferred the limo when traveling to Ramsford because of that much needed leg-room, but the carpets and the plush seats made Maxwell feel like the air is being crushed out of the space. Bertrand clears his throat and scoots near the mini-fridge, looking for the cold-brew cans they kept stocked in there with the champagne.
They weren’t going to talk about it.
It must be dragging close to 10 am by now since they left at dawn, and Nadia’s probably already in New York. He can sleep away the rest of the day, judging by how nicely Bertrand has been treating him.
The thing is, Nadia knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t keep his promise. And so Maxwell found out through the other students living on her floor – Nadia left the day before. Her door was unlocked, the room left empty except for the furniture that came with it. And then he found it, the mini Eiffel Tower miniature, on the bed. He didn’t know if he wanted to cry or laugh as he picked it up. Nadia knew he thought the touristy trinkets were ugly.
What Maxwell realized in Paris is that he’s kind of really fucked. That Nadia is extraordinary, and he loves her.
“We’re almost here.” Bertrand says, sipping his coffee. He grimaces lightly, no wonder in need of a real cup soon. Maxwell nods, knowing that it’s a prompt for him to fix himself before meeting with the main house’s staff.
The limo turns down the road that leads to the vast manor he grew up in. The driveway is long and lined with trees, much like the main palace. He has time to brush back his hair – still feeling weird about its shortness – straighten his clothes, and rub the sleep away from his eyes.
After exchanging a polite welcome with the main house staff, Maxwell has disappeared off to his room in no time – and without any complaints from Bertrand at all, who simply asked him to be present at dinner at six. He tosses off his jacket and toes off his shoes, throwing himself on the bed face-down. His mother would always scold him about wearing outside clothes to bed. Maxwell squeezes his eyes shut, waiting for sleep to come – but it doesn’t.
Nadia never did say anything about not calling.
-
Nadia taps the metal ferrule of her brush repeatedly against the paint thinner can’s brim, shaking off the excess. She’s not sure how much time she’s sat there staring at the painting that never seems to be finished.
Back in New York, and she’s literally watching paint dry.
Sighing, she takes the brush again and scrapes it on the drying blob of blue paint, hardly picking up any pigment at first but eventually it gives and seeps through the strands, bright and blue. Blue.
Stop. Have a break. Nadia decides to leave the brush on the container beside the easel and stands up, feeling the strain on her back and her legs as she stretches. Quickly, Nadia opens her window to let the paint and thinner fumes out – she always forgets to, which is why she’s convinced that someday she would inhale too much and just drop dead. Then she cleans up all the candy wrappers (Gran will find out soon enough that she ate all the decorations for the gingerbread house), turns off the lights, and finally collapses on her bed, limbs splayed out – and she sighs, letting her eyes close.
It’s illogical how she hasn’t been able to sleep yet after spending a long-haul flight watching all the romcom movies available and crying. Crying is exhausting. Turns out dramatic airport goodbyes were just for movie screens – and thank god for that. A sharp pang of guilt shoots through her for lying to Maxwell. But he’s stubborn, and Nadia knew he would still try to see her off anyway.
She rolls over and sniffs the soothing smell of fresh sheets, the same old brand of detergent that her grandma always used. Their grandparents’ apartment in New York is small, but it had just enough space for the four of them for when she and Kai visited over the break. It had a small balcony for an herb garden that only their Grandpa cared for. From outside, the light pollution of the city gives casts a bluish glow in tall shadows across her room. It’s closing in on five in the morning, the sunrise late in mid-December but she can see the faint colors of dawn starting to show in the sky.
Her phone rings underneath a pillow somewhere, its muffled sounds making her heart race the longer she leaves it. Her restraint snaps, and she jumps off her bed to rummage through her room for the damned phone. Finally, she finds it underneath an orange throw pillow. She tosses the pillow away and reads the caller ID.
-
You’re not being silly, Maxwell. All this pressure and expectations, they’re insane and being compared to your brother must hurt.
Maxwell picks at his cufflinks – gold with a monogrammed MB. Bertrand hadn’t mentioned that the six pm dinner would be with a fund manager, an estate agent, and the way too slick and smart Chief of Staff; essentially Bertrand’s right-hand man and the one he would sort of replace in the near future. He wouldn’t be taken off the payroll, of course, but he had always been critical of Maxwell and his lack of involvement in estate issues. They all formally wait in line to shake hands with the Duke and his brother.
But I know your brother loves you, and he’s proud of you and all of your achievements.
It still scares Maxwell how charming his brother could be. He lags behind Bertrand and watches him exchange fond greetings with their company. Bertrand turns towards Maxwell and beckons him towards them. His heart swells when Bertrand pats his back reassuringly as he shakes their hands.
He fits here. Right?
I know what it’s like to not feel accepted or competent – but Maxwell, this is your purpose.
Maxwell doesn’t try to dazzle them with whatever he learned that semester, it would be fruitless since these people have been doing this long enough to differentiate the fluff from substance. Instead he sits quietly for once, listening and trying to absorb as much as he could – to no avail. All he can think of was that call.
You’re amazing, intelligent, and caring, and you deserve much more praise. Your brother understands this more than anyone.
You’re starting to sound like my mother and it’s scaring me.
Why do you always joke?
But she laughed. Her laugh sounded like music to his ears, even though it was in bad quality, crackling audio over a phone. Maxwell is broken out of his trance when the first course is served. Bertrand could tell he’s still completely distracted – although thankfully not as miserable as when he had found him.
I can’t handle it, it’s getting too emotional. He reaches into his pocket again to feel the little Eiffel Tower. I didn’t know how I was supposed to let you go.
That’s why I made that decision for you.
Bertrand and the others launch into a deep conversation about estate issues. Maxwell picks at his food, focusing more on the sound of the clatter of silverware against china. Has it really been one whole semester?
Yeah. It was way too quick. I used to wonder a lot if coming to Cordonia was some huge mistake. Since, you know, I didn’t exactly fit in,
He’s not entirely sure that he fits in here too. He tries, he really does. And he wants to help Bertrand who seemed like he aged ten years from all the stress of being a duke.
But Maxwell liked to think of him and Nadia as pieces of the puzzle that come from two different boxes. They had somehow found each other and clicked perfectly. It’s nonsensical, but it happened. It’s where he fits in.
Then I met you and all that went out the window. I was right where I was supposed to be.
Maxwell keeps replaying that part in his head. He took a moment to answer, willed the seconds to slow down.
He remembered everything, it pressed at him, insistent and waiting.
I love you, Nadia.
Nadia yawned softly on the other line, and then all he could hear after that was her faint breathing. Maxwell is brought back to the present, and he closes his eyes to imagine her face under the soft yellow glow of the streetlamps in Paris – wondering what if.
End
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EPILOGUE
Maxwell steps outside the limo in some street that he vaguely remembers – he could only hope it’s the right one. He tells his driver to come back in a while and smooths down his black button-down shirt, the begins to walk up the strangely quiet street. Well, relatively quiet compared to the rest of New York.
He needed this peace after what just happened, waking up with his mouth feeling like it was stuffed with cotton and a pounding headache. As the one morning person in the group, of course he’s the first to wake up – even though it’s already way past the afternoon. The boys back at their suite sleepily complained about all the noise he made while in the shower.
Ha! “Noise”. Excuse you, I was singing.
After Liam disappeared with the waitress, the rest of the boys decided to fuck off and blow some cash away at the nearest high-end club they could find. He doesn’t remember how they ended up at some rooftop party full of hipsters and catching wind of a familiar name in their conversations. Some rising star in the art world. An art show in Brooklyn. Here’s the address.
-
“Nadia! Hey!”
Nadia turns and spots her cousin, Kai, among the crowd. She quickly excuses herself to pass through all the people – it’s still crazy to think about just how much her work blew up.
“You made it!” She envelops Kai in a tight hug, and holds her at arm’s length. “So? What do you think?”
Kai scans the room with an appreciative look on her face. “Are you kidding? This is insane. I’m so proud of you.”
“Not the show!” Nadia gestures at herself. “Do I look okay?”
Kai laughs. “You look like an artist with a popping art show and not to mention a fat bank account after all this.”
“What?”
“She’s saying you look fine and that we promise to step in once you start unironically wearing… berets.” Damien suddenly claps a reassuring hand on Nadia’s shoulder, holding a drink on the other. His wrinkles his nose at someone who passes by wearing a bejeweled beret.
“You’re so judgmental!” Kai stifles a laugh with her hand.
Damien shrugs and takes a gulp from his drink. “So, who do I have to beat up this time?”
“Ugh, stop it.” Nadia rolls her eyes, but smiles fondly at Damien’s over-protectiveness. “His name is Steve and you guys have to promise me that you’ll be nice.”
Kai nods. “That’s mostly directed towards you, Damien.”
“I’ll be nice, alright.” Damien frowns. “I’m just saying- it’s weird that he’s an investment banker who also happens to be a baker, volunteers at animal shelters, and his name is Steve.”
“What do you have against Steves?” Nadia laughs.
“Yeah! Steves are generally nicer than Damiens!” Kai shares a conspiratorial smile with Nadia.
Damien downs the rest of his drink. “I didn’t ask to be ganged up on like this.”
Nadia’s phone rings and her whole face lights up. “Uh oh, I think he’s outside but he’s not sure which one it is.”
Kai shoots Damien a be nice glare as Nadia excuses herself to go to the entrance. Her heart pounds with excitement as she walks. A cold gust of wind greets her as she pushes open the door, and comes face to face with – Maxwell Beaumont.
She feels like all the air has been knocked out of her lungs as Maxwell looks back at her, shocked.
“…hi.”
FACTS THAT ARE DECIDEDLY NOT FUN BECAUSE THESE ARE JUST DISGUISED AUTHOR’S NOTES also I am sad
-        So it ended! FINALLY!
-        No joke it was so difficult to end this series despite it only having a few chapters. It went through rewrites upon rewrites and even me deleting a WHOLE alternate ending wherein Nadia doesn’t leave early.
-        They don’t end up together in both endings but I have greatly considered just throwing all my plans out the window and have Maxwell follow Nadia to New York. Ah… now wouldn’t that be nice.
-        Nadia literally slept on Maxwell lolol get it
-        If anyone would want to see the draft of the alternate ending I can drop you the google docs link.
-        The epilogue happens on the first chapter of both books where they’re BOTH in New York; Nadia has her art exhibit, and the TRR boys are at the “bachelor” party. Again, I changed what happened in each bc… I can.
 -        Big thanks to @pixieferry who motivated me endlessly to write and her unwavering support, and to @littlecrookedheart for basically greasing the stuck gears (this is a weird phrase) in my brain that finally got me to writing this ending, I appreciate all her help (even the kill someone and Andy cameo suggestions)
- Thank you also to everyone who stuck by this story. I’m so so so happy that I finished it, and I’m so grateful for your patience. This is the first and last fic I will post on this account because I made a separate blog for fics (that’s pretty empty as of now).
tag list: @littlecrookedheart, @femmeshep, @brightpinkpeppercorn, @zaffrenotes, @teamtomsato, @pixieferry
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wickedsingularity · 6 years
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Christmas Miracle [one-shot]
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wickedsingularity’s Christmas Stories 2018 Masterlist
Fandom: MCU Pairings/characters: Steve Rogers x reader (but not really), Wanda Maximoff, and all the Avengers post AOU/pre CACW (and @iguess-theyre-mymess starring as Sam Wilson's girlfriend/baking-partner) Words: 3747 Warnings: Angst, fluff, overworked, stress, nagging family, kissing, almost smut
Prompt/summary: When work and Christmas and sleep deprivation just becomes too much… Steve comes home from a mission and sets off a miracle. (Inspired partly by my own life and partly a Norwegian commercial.)
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The busiest time of the year was busier than ever. It was also supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year, but with all the rogue HYDRA agents running around it was just stress, stress and more stress. They'd been fairly quiet all year, but now, right before the holidays, they were everywhere. Steve and Natasha had been sent away to deal with the larger of the suddenly active groups, and I was running around at home, working my ass off.
As the IT manager to the Avengers and what was left of SHIELD, I shouldn't be too busy, Tony made sure we had state of the art equipment, and I was pretty damn good at my job if I could say so myself. But it seemed that everything went wrong lately. I barely had time for my usual duties, as I was called here and there to fix the most ridiculous problems. And in the middle of it all, our servers crashed and I tried my best to get it back online as it was vital to Steve and Natasha's mission, even though everyone else felt their buggy printers or out-of-battery-mice was more important.
After a long day of fixing screens that showed everything upside down and saving a hard drive from someone accidentally opening a malicious attachment to an email and fixing the server temporarily and not doing any of the maintenance I was supposed to do, I dragged myself home to an empty apartment. Dry toast was my dinner and the couch was my best friend. That was also where I was reminded of all the other things I had to do at home. The lists were there in front of me on the table after one panicked evening when I decided I needed to write it all down in an orderly fashion. All the Christmas presents I had to buy, I had even figured out what to get everyone. All the baking I had to do. All the cleaning and decorating.
I groaned and reached lazily for the remote and turned the TV on. I don't know what channel it opened on because at that moment I got a text. I touched the fingerprint scanner and saw that it was from my mom. Have you decided what to do for Christmas yet? Your old room is waiting for you!
Another groan and my heart rate sped up. I glanced for a moment further up the thread.
I don't know. I don't know when Steve will be home.
If he can't come, you're welcome to come alone. Though we'd love to see you both!
Have you talked to Steve yet? Your grandparents are eager to see you too!
I hadn't replied to the last two, prompting her to send the current one. Steve's mission was on radio silence and no one knew how long it would take. I contemplated chucking my phone out the window.
Someone bursting into a Christmas song on the TV caught my attention. A family was gathered around their open front door, a group of cheery carollers standing in the driveway. I don't know what movie it was, because I tuned out before the guilt could overwhelm me. Instead, I remembered all the laundry I had to put away and dishes I needed to clean and the windows that needed to be cleaned because I could barely see through them, but I couldn't move from the couch. I just stared blindly at the TV for a long time, my mind going over all the things I had to do in an endless loop until another text dragged me back to reality.
This one was from Wanda. Want to skip work tomorrow and come with me to help me find a present for Vision? He's not easy to shop for.
I was able to reply to this one. I wanted nothing more than to get away from everything for a bit and spend some time with Wanda, maybe even get started on the Christmas presents, but I couldn't. I would have loved to, I need to get some shopping done too, but I'm still swamped with work. Everyone is useless. Laughing emoji.
Wanda's reply was quick. Oh, I'm sorry. Just let me know if you can get away, or if I can do some shopping for you while I'm out. Followed by five hugging emojis.
Thanks, I'll let you know!
A flash of guilt for saying no to Wanda went through me, even though I knew I was being ridiculous. I had just said no to her too many times the last few weeks.
I was done for the day. It was about nine, but I still turned off the TV and got ready for bed. On top of everything, whenever Steve was gone, it took me ages to fall asleep, and when I did sleep, I slept poorly and woke up early. So, I figured, the earlier I got into the bed, the earlier I would sleep and maybe long poor sleep was better than short deep sleep.
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A few days later, nothing had changed, except I was now working alone. I had a few people working under me as the IT manager. Good people too. But all of them had applied for time off before Christmas and I'd granted it to all of them, except the one who was out sick. I worked better on my own anyway, it was faster and easier than getting more people involved. It was a flaw I had, one I was very aware of and one I should probably work on right now. It would have taken a lot of weight off my shoulders.
But I just couldn't do it. Not now. I did my best to fix everyone's problems and make sure the makeshift fix on the server didn't buckle under the strain and tried not to think of all the things I never got around to.
I was sleep deprived and stressed. My entire body was a tight knot of muscles, every time I turned my head my neck protested and pain shot through my head, my brain worked a million miles a minute, and my heart rate was probably through the roof and I nearly had a heart attack every time the phone rang or someone called my name in that please help me-tone of voice. I kept thinking about all the things I had to get done at work before Christmas but seemed to never have time for, and all the neglected tasks at home. The holidays were just days away. I decided to force myself out to get presents after work.
But when I got out, I was starving and exhausted, so I went home and would try to find all the presents online. With express shipping, I might get them all in time. And then I could spend a little bit of time every day the rest of the week, getting the apartment ready. I was proud of this idea and felt some of the burden lift from my shoulders.
But all I could find online was one present. Everything else was sold out. I was just about to throw my laptop into the toilet and cancel Christmas when my phone went off. I jumped half a foot off the couch, but my heart nearly exploded when I saw Steve's contact picture grinning up at me. I answered right away.
"Hi, doll." His voice was like a balm for my soul.
"Hi... I miss you." I felt my voice almost break, but I swallowed it down and hoped he didn't notice.
"I miss you too. How is my best girl?"
"Busy. So busy. But it's that time of year. When are you coming home?"
"Couple of days. We're just finishing up now. Did you work out the server glitch?"
"Sort of. It's online for now, but it's only a temporary solution. I suspect HYDRA has something to do with it though, given all the other things happening. But I'm doing my best."
"I believe in you, sweetheart."
"Fingers crossed." I grinned into the phone, trying to sound hopeful, but was glad he couldn't see how my lips twisted into a tight line instead.
We were silent for a few moments. I could hear him breathing at the other end, and I tried to imagine us curled up in bed, him the big spoon, his breath on my neck and his arms tight around me.
"I really miss you," I said.
"Are you okay?" Steve sounded concerned now.
"Yeah," I lied. "I just miss you. It's Christmas after all."
"I'll be home in two days, three tops."
"I can't wait."
"Me neither. Nat is waving me over. I got to go. I love you, okay?"
I felt the lump in my throat. "I love you too, Steven Grant." The line went dead and I dropped the hand holding the phone into my lap. "So much."
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Steve hadn't been entirely truthful. He was already on his way home when he called, and he wanted to surprise her. But the call worried him. There had been something in her voice, something that told him she wasn't just busy, something was wrong.
After he had relieved Natasha as pilot, letting her get some sleep, he had called Wanda. If anyone knew if his girl was hiding something, it was the Scarlet Witch.
"She's been working really hard, Steve, everyone is on her tail," Wanda had explained. "According to Maria, her entire staff is gone for the holidays, and she's been doing everything herself. She is everywhere trying to help everyone and everything seems to be buggy. And whenever I see her, she gets paler and stiffer and there's a pained frown on her face. I don't think she's sleeping well either."
It was just as Steve expected. "Have you picked up on any of her thoughts?"
"You know I try not to do that." Wanda had hesitated for a moment. "But I couldn't have even if I wanted to. There are many thoughts in there, bleeding out. I couldn't pick out one from the other, without putting my hands around her head."
Steve pushed the Quinjet a bit faster after he had hung up. The hours flying back went by too slowly for his liking. Even slower was the medical check-up and the debriefing after. He tried to reschedule the debriefing for the next day, or at least a few hours later, but no such luck. By the time he went back to the apartment at the facility, she had gone off to work.
Steve stood still just a few steps inside the door, looking around. Next to the couch stood a basket of laundry that needed to be folded and put away. The dishwasher door was open and the inside was filled to the brim with dirty dishes. There were no Christmas decorations, no sign of anything Christmassy anywhere. Kicking off his boots, he walked further in and saw the handwritten lists and sticky notes on the coffee table. She had made orderly lists, and it made him crack a small smile, it was so typical her. They were sorted into what needed to be done around the house, what presents to buy for everyone, what Christmas decorations were to be put up, and what cookies to bake. Each list had a checkbox for "started" and "finished". The only thing checked off as finished was one of the presents for Tony, with a yellow sticky note next to it saying "online, estimated 23rd". No check marks in the started-columns.
He sighed and went into the bedroom to unpack his bag and take a much-needed shower. As he sat the bag down on the foot of the bed, he noticed that her side of the bed was barely slept in. Instead, her pillow had replaced his, and his was further down as if she'd been holding it while she slept. Steve's heart broke as he just imagined how these weeks had been for her. He knew she didn't sleep well without him, he didn't sleep well without her either. And she'd been so busy and she'd not had time for anything, she hadn't even answered her mother about Christmas judging by the texts Steve himself had gotten with questions about why she hadn't replied.
He set his bag on the floor, that could wait until later. And then he put the pillows back in their rightful place, pulled the covers up as neatly as he could.
"FRIDAY, are the others in and available right now?"
"Welcome home, Captain Rogers. Miss Romanoff is in the shower. Everyone else is in and available."
"Could you ask them to meet me here in half an hour? And could you call in Tony too? Say it's sort of a family emergency."
"Of course, Captain Rogers."
Steve tore off his uniform and went straight into the shower to wash away the grime of the mission. It was the quickest shower he'd taken his whole life. Body barely dry, he pulled on the first clothes he could find and got straight to work on the dishes, getting the machine started and handwashing the rest he could find.
Half an hour almost on the dot, there was a knock on the door. He told FRIDAY to open the door and Vision floated through before it was halfway open. Shortly after him, Wanda, Sam and Rhodey came in. And wet hair blowing behind her, a newly showered Natasha came running inside seconds later.
"What is this about a family emergency?" Rhodey asked.
"My poor girl has been working her ass off and has been running left and right to help everyone else but herself. I haven't been home to help out either. I was hoping we could all help her now. Before she gets home?"
They all nodded to a chorus of "of course".
Steve breathed out a sigh of relief. He would have tried to do it all himself if he had to, but he was glad they all wanted to help. He walked over to the coffee table and the lists there. "Sam, can I ask you to bake some cookies? You don't have to make everything on this list, but at least the ones that take the least time?"
The Falcon nodded and took the list Steve handed over. "I know just the person to help me with this," he said with a grin getting his phone out and walking over to the kitchen to make a call.
"This is a shopping list?" Wanda asked, grabbing one of the lists. "Vision and I can get this."
"Thank you, both of you. I can cross out what she's getting you, and get them myself later," Steve said.
"No, no, we'll look appropriately surprised."
Steve nodded and found his wallet, pulling out a credit card for them. "Rhodey, Nat, could you help me clean and decorate? If Tony shows up, he can help with that too."
"Sure, anything you need," Rhodey replied and Natasha nodded.
Steve looked around at them, and he had never been more grateful for each and every one of them. "Thank you, all of you. I know it's a lot of work and you probably have better things to do this close to Christmas, but I really appreciate this."
"It's no worry, Steve," Sam said, having just hung up and walked over while folding up the baking list. "We've all seen her getting more and more stressed lately. She's family, we're all family."
"This is what family does," Wanda added.
Soon, the apartment was filled with the fresh smell of soap. Dishes and laundry were dealt with, and Tony arrived with a gorgeous, plump spruce. Down the hall, the smell of baking made everyone salivate. Wanda sent pictures when she couldn't find the exact thing on the list and asked Steve for advice about what to get instead.
Decorating was next and everyone came in to help out a bit, while the gingerbread cookies were cooling before frosting, and when Wanda and Vision had finished all the gift shopping and placed them neatly wrapped around and under the tree in the common area.
It had been some long, hard hours, but the place was transformed. Steve had made sure everything was just the way she liked it and he couldn't wait for her to come home to this surprise. He didn't know how to thank everyone, but they assured him it was their pleasure as they left to let him rest for a little bit before she came home.
Steve sat down on the couch and looked around. It was almost perfect, there was just one thing left. He grabbed his phone and dialled a number.
"Hello?"
"Hi, this is Steve."
"Oh, hi, Steve, dearest! How are you? How is my baby girl?"
"We're good, thank you. I just called to let you know what's happening for Christmas. I'm really sorry, but something has come up at work for both of us. We can't make it."
"Oh, what a shame... It's been so long since we've seen our precious daughter, and there are so many people who are dying to finally meet you."
"I know. We're really sorry. We'll try to take a few days after New Year's if that's okay with you."
"Yes, please do! Have a Merry Christmas both of you and try not to work too hard!"
"We'll try. Merry Christmas to you too, say hi to everyone for us!"
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Another day of being pulled in every direction. Another day where I could barely get a moment to spare for what I was supposed to work on, instead I was helping everyone else with silly things, and no closer to a permanent solution on the server glitch. Another day closer to Christmas and nothing was done. And still two days until Steve came home. I didn't even want Christmas anymore.
The halls in the building were quiet. There was a lingering smell of baking, and I felt a stab of guilt at all the baking I had yet to do. Tears pricked at the back of my eyes.
"Well, I can always try again next year," I mumbled to myself as I pressed my hand to the scanner next to the door and it swung open. The apartment was dark, I was sure I had left at least the kitchen light on. I frowned. "FRIDAY, could you please turn on the lights?"
"Of course."
The whole apartment was flooded with light and I gasped. A tree, lights, stars, tinsel, Santas, it was all there. And from the couch, a figure emerged.
"Steve?"
"Hi, doll."
My purse dropped from my hands and I ran across the room and jumped into his arms. He made a sound as if the air was knocked out of him and then chuckled, his arms wrapping around me. But seeing him and feeling him after the past three weeks of hell without him and what he had clearly done for me, just made the damn burst. His name was wrenched from me in a whine before I buried my face in his neck and the tears fell freely from my eyes.
"Oh doll," he said and sat down on the couch with me still wrapped around him. "It's okay." His arms tightened around me, holding me as close as he could. He whispered in my ear, probably all the reassurances he could think of, but he could have been reciting all the numbers in Pi for all I cared. It was his voice and his warmth and the safety I felt around him that I cared about at that moment as all the stress and worries bled out of me. I hadn't wanted Steve to know how hard it had been, but somehow, he always knew, always found out. He could read me without seeing me, just like I could read him.
I don't know how long it was before I calmed down. But when I did, I was starving, and it was the growling of my stomach that had me pulling away from his drenched shirt.
"Don't worry, I've got dinner in the fridge, it just needs warming up," Steve said, his hands cradling my face, thumbs wiping at the wetness below my eyes.
"I thought you said you'd be home in two or three days," I said, frowning. "Not that I'm not happy to see you."
"I wanted to surprise you."
"Well, colour me surprised. How did you manage all this?"
"Everyone helped. All the gifts are bought and wrapped. There are cookies in the jars and boxes on the counter. The place is sparkling clean and festive."
My breath of relief turned into a chuckle and then laughter, and I couldn't stop. Steve's smile grew and grew until he too started laughing. I fell sideways on the couch and off his lap, lying on my back and heaved for my breath.
Steve leaned over, planting a kiss on my cheek and that finally made me stop. "I'm sorry," I said, my voice shaky. "You just came home from a mission and you're probably so tired and you haven't even had time to process it because you had to do all this and I just cry and laugh and I'm just a mess."
"I'm just glad to be home again and I'm happy I could help you get this done." He climbed in between my legs and finally pressed his lips against mine. The last bit of stress rolled off me and I hummed. "Oh, and if anyone in your family asks," he whispered against my lips, "something came up at work for both us," his lips moved down to my neck, "and we can't visit for Christmas."
"Oh, how I love you, Steven Grant Rogers," was all I managed to say.
His lips moved lazily against my neck, finding that spot just below my ear that turned me into putty in his arms. I raised my hips, grinding them against his, feeling the need for him bubble up inside me. But then he pulled back and sat up. "I love you too. But go take a quick shower and I'll warm up dinner. Your stomach is still growling."
I groaned and tried to kick him, but he dodged my legs and was up and by the fridge before I could say "bastard".
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Alone - Harrison Osterfield - pt.2
A/N: :) Summary: Your older sister drops her baby at your apartment Warnings: none Words: 1,892
I put the car on parked before getting out of the car and grabbing James from the back, "let's go baby, it's time for you to meet your grandparents. Hopefully they like you and if not, then that will be okay because all the love you need will be from me, Morgan and Brianna," I carried him and grabbed his bag. My heart was beating rapidly, I wasn’t sure if I could do it. I let out a sigh and knocked on the door, "It's going to be a-okay," I stood there for what I thought a long time but then the door swung open and I saw my mother standing in front of me. "Come in, who's this little cute baby, Zach come look at this baby boy" "This is James,” I introduced James to my mom
"Who's child is it?" Your father questioned "Uh-It's-it's-," I licked my lips, "he's mine," my parents looked surprised "Y/(full)/N, why didn't you tell us?" my mother was upset "I was scared. I-I thought you guys wouldn't approve and be disappointed in me,” I was lying through my teeth
"How can we, you're our daughter," I let out a sigh of relief. Maybe it would’ve gone a different road if I presented James as Addy’s child or if she was here and she said it was her’s, shit would’ve broken lose
"Who's the father?" My father asked as he carried James and everyone walked to the living room
"I-uh-I don't know" "He left you?" my dad raised his voice "No, I mean that I don't know who it is,” my mouth spoke before I could process it "Have you been sleeping around?" my mother looked at you, “was this because of H-” before she could even say his name I cut her off
"No! God! No, It was a sperm donation, I just felt like I was always alone and I needed someone to keep me company," the lie slipped easily out of my lips. "Oh, why didn't you move back in with us?" Your mother asked
“Because you and dad are never home as well, last time I came to visit you weren’t home,” you lied “Morgan, Brianna and I found a great deal on this apartment that wasn't too expensive and it is pretty nice and even if I moved back here I would feel even more lonely,” I wasn’t sure if I made sense by my parents somehow understood what I just said. ------- The whole week my family and my dad’s side of the family got the chance to meet James, I was happy he got to meet his grandparents and the other family, God be with us. My heart started to beat, what if he starts wanting his dad or his mom? I took a deep breath and left to the bathroom. Not even three minutes passed when I heard the baby cry, I ran back to the living room, "what's going on?" I looked at my aunt Beth who was holding James
"Nothing happened, I think he missed you," my aunt Beth smiled and handed me the baby, James started to calm down as I carried him, "Will you ever bring him around again?" "I don't know, it is almost a two hour drive,” and I have a life
"What if you move back home?" Aunt Beth asked question, I was getting annoyed and frustrated just looking at her
"I already made a life where I live and it’s truly none of your business how I control my life,” I snapped "Your parents can help you with James, you don’t have a man to help you," my dad was about to say something I nod no to my dad.
"Okay, you want to go there. First of all. I don’t need a man to help me, I am perfectly capable of handling myself with James. Second of all, my roommates and I are handling pretty well. Third of all, I don’t see you visiting ever so often”
“Like you said I made life,” she mocked me
“Then why are you asking me that question when I already said that I am handling it well so mind your own damn business,” I snapped before leaving with James upstairs to my old bedroom. I left everyone in shocked and some proud that you spoke back to her, especially my mom.
I heard yelling coming from downstairs, I looked at James and I wasn’t sure if having him around made me more confident or just speak the truth, my room door opened and I saw it was my mom, "I am not going to apologize to her" "Oh no, if I stayed longer I would’ve laughed. Beth is quite something, she also told me that when Madeleine was a year as well. I know it's hard just to drive two hours here and back and it's pretty exhausting, just remember if you need anything, we are always here for you,” there was a question I have been dying to tell her but never had the guts to ask, but now I do.
"Why did you kicked Addy out?" she let out a sigh laying down next to James
"She wanted to drop out of college, move with her druggie of a boyfriend. I told her that I didn't want you to be getting drugs or anything, sometimes people get so mad and they don't know what they are saying. I said a few things that I didn’t mean to say. Once she left, I realized that it was all my fault and I never forgave myself for it. I should've just let her be happy and be with whoever she wants. I think her and her boyfriend knew not to give you any drugs or even offer you. I was that one of you might’ve overdose or something, I really hope she is doing fine," I saw pain flash all over her face "Are you drunk?" I questioned trying to change the subject
"Just a little bit, I knew your aunt Beth was coming over and didn't want to deal with her crap. Anyways, I will let you rest, you’ve had a long day today being around her is ten times worst" "Night," she left leaving me with James, I facetimed Morgan and Brianna explaining everything that had happened ever since I stepped foot inside my parents house. I was excited to go back to the apartment, I was done being around my other family members.
---------- "At least visit us once a month or we will go visit you," that's the last thing you wanted them to do. "I will try to visit you at least once a month, if work doesn't get in the way I might just send Morgan or Brianna over here" "I don't mind that, they are both welcomed here," my mother gave me a hug before giving a hug to my father and grabbing the baby from him, "are you also coming here for Christmas?" "Yeah, want him to be surrounded with his family," I put James in his seat buckling up and hugging my parents one more time before getting in the car. 'Holy shit' I let out, I played music from my phone and began to drive back home. The whole way back to the apartment I kept glancing at James seeing if he was doing good. He was fast asleep the first ten minutes of being in the car, I was almost home when I got a call from Morgan. "Hey what's up?" "Where are you?" "I'm pulling up, why, you okay?" "Yeah, I just missed James and you too!" "Feeling the love,” I mumbled, “we are just pulling up we will be up in a few" "I'll go down there to help you" "Alright, see you soon," I stayed in the car for a while before I saw Morgan walking towards the car, I turned off the engine and got out of the car, "He's sleeping so careful, I'll get the bags" "How did you know I wanted to carry him?" "You missed him more than me," I gave her a smile and grabbed the bags from the back ----------------- Christmas came by fast, I bought James and myself new sleeping-wear to match. You'd been at your parents house a day early to help around the house, but things went south with in the first three hours.
"Hey Morgan, I hope you are having- are you in the apartment? Why aren't you with your family?" "I got into an argument with Beth again, and I just left. She was giving me shit for having a child at a young age and she kept telling me that I wasn't ready and how I can't be raising a child on my own without a father I told her it isn’t her damn business once again" "What did you tell her" "Okay first of all, she was all up on James, hugging him and all of that stuff and then when I was carrying him she told me all that shit and I told her 'as long as you are mature enough to have a child then it's okay' oh and then when she said that he had also had to be raised by a male I told her that I had you and Brianna all he needs is the love, support and for him to be able to respect and like she didn't give that to her children and then I went on on a long ass rant to her. I even told her, 'just because you were raised different doesn't mean I will raise them like you did' you and Bri have seen how her kids are, my dad even got mad at her and I kinda feel bad for leaving but I honestly feel so good. I think James and I will get in our sleeping wear and watch Christmas movies. Home Alone sounds great right now" "Damn, has your mom or dad tried contacting you?" "They sent me messaged telling me that they are sorry and I told them that it's not their fault and oh dude, my mom seriously slapped her right across the face and I don't know what else happened because I left," I put on his sleepwear and I put on mine before going to the living room and starting the movie. "Do you want me to head back to you?" "You be with your family, I don't want to be the cause of you leaving early" "If you need anything call me," I gave her a smile, "bye James, see you soon!" I put the camera in front of my face and James, "I'm actually glad Addy dropped him off" "Yeah, me too. I'll talk to you soon or whatever" "Alright, night dude," I gave her a peace sign before hitting the end call.
"Alright James, let's watch this great film," James snuggled next to me and it melted my heart like no other. I grabbed my phone and took a picture of us, “I think I will do an email for you and just write everything that’s been going on and what you do. Even send you pictures so you remember how you look like when you’re a baby,” I kissed the top of his head.
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