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ikleesfiction · 3 years ago

Text

Miss Americana

Fandom : Crossover Hawaii Five-0 x Chicago PD TV Word count : 5,610 words Pairing : Steve McGarrett x Danny Williams; Jay Halstead x reader

Summary : You met Williams-McGarrett family in Los Angeles and they introduced you to Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. Your boyfriend, Jay Halstead, doesn't know anything about this. Yet.

Author's note :

This is the fourth one shot of "Will you follow through if I fall for you" fic continuation. It would be better if you read it first. But if you don't, here's the quick summary.

This happened after I listened to a few podcasts (1 🞂 2 🞂 3) of Scott Caan and Alex O'Loughlin, passionately talking about Brazilian Jiu Jitsu.

This fic does not comply to the canon of Hawaii Five-0 or Chicago PD. So if you don't follow one of the other, it should not be a hindrance, I think. Here's hoping that I'm right.

Disclaimer

◢◤

"Would you like another cup of coffee?

You look up from the book in your hand to the waiter addressing you.

"Oh, I would love to. But it's already my fourth cup of the day," You grimace at him. "Maybe I'll take a bottle of water, please? Cold, if you have one."

The waiter grins at you, "Sure thing," then leave with your empty cup of coffee.

You are supposed to meet your friend, Tim, at his house on The Bird Streets to work on a song. However, he got a sudden appointment and asked you to wait for his call to reschedule. So here you are, sitting at a Cafe/Bistro somewhere in Los Angeles, drinking too much coffee.

You check your watch and your phone. It's almost lunchtime, but your phone is still showing nothing. Alright then, you thought to yourself, back to the book. Your eyes immediately find the last paragraph you read on Astrophysics for People in a Hurry.

Five pages later, the waiter puts a bottle of water on your table, "Here it is. You sure you don't want another cup of coffee?" He jokes with you.

You laugh in response, "No, really, thank you."

The waiter leaves with a smile and turns to the table across from yours. That's when you notice somebody's sitting there.

"Good afternoon. Only for two?" The waiter lays two menu cards on the table.

"Four. My husband and daughter are parking the car." The man answers him with a smile. He has a little boy sitting next to him. His son, you guess, since both of them have blond hair. Their noses look similar too.

"Danno, can I have ice cream for lunch?" The boy begs his father, pointing at one of the delightful pictures on the card.

"Hmm, maybe." The father hums his reply. He exchanges a knowing glance with the waiter.

"Do you want anything to drink while you're waiting?"

"Soda!" The boy yells from his chair, who laughs at his father's glare.

"How about two glasses of orange juice?" The father checks to his son before confirming it with the waitress.

"Okay, be right back with your drinks."

After the waiter leaves, the boy begins to prattle about everything to his father. About giraffes at the zoo ("They are so tall like Dad!"), about his favorite ice cream flavors ("Cookie Dough. But I like Kame's shave ice better, Danno"), about swimming at Venice Beach ("There's a lot of people there, Danno. I like our beach more")

The boy doesn't even look like he needs to breathe. You can't help but let out a chuckle. His father looks up at you and shares a grin. "That's great, Charlie," He comments to his son.

You let their conversation become a white noise while you read your book.

At your periphery, you see someone passes by. However, you don't expect a hand to suddenly sneak your phone from the table. Your hand instantly grabs that wrist, trying to stop it from stealing your phone. But the thief forcefully pulls his hand out of your reach and moves away.

Unfortunately for the thief, he runs straight to the father at your neighboring table. The man has no problem flipping the thief over and pushes him to their table. When the thief squirms away from his clutch, the man lifts the thief's elbow high up and turns it behind his back in a very painful lock. The unpleasant sound coming out of the thief's mouth proves how excruciating it is.

The man's eyes wander. Many shocked faces are staring at him, including yours. "It's okay, I'm a cop," He explains.

In contrast to the crowd, the boy looks at his father in awe, gleefully clapping his hands.

"Charlie, why are you clapping? You're not supposed to clap at this. Oh my god, you are just like your father! Happy to see any aggression," The man rants as he takes out a cable tie from his trousers' pocket. You don't even know why he got cable ties in his pocket. He efficiently ties the perp's hands behind his back and forces him to sit.

Only then, the man addresses the crowd again, "Has anyone called 9-1-1?"

"I did. The police are on the way," One of the cafe's staff squeaks from the door, with a phone still in her hand.

"Excellent! Did you hear that? Your ride would be here soon," The man tightly squeezes the thief's shoulders. The thief could only reply with an agonized grunt.

Everybody else resumes their activities with a sporadic look to their table.

The boy picks up the stolen phone from the floor. It fell near his foot during the short scuffle. "Danno," He hands your phone over to his father.

"Ah, thanks, Charlie," The man ruffles the kid's hair and kisses the top of his head.

"I believe this is yours?" The man returns the phone to you. "Hope it's still working?" He cringes at the spiderweb marks on the phone screen.

"Thanks. Probably not. But it's alright." You smile at the man and offer to shake his hand, "Y/N Y/LN, thanks again for helping me,"

The man takes your hand, "Hey, no big deal. Danny Williams. And this is my son, Charlie," Danny brings Charlie in front of him. You extend your hand to Charlie as well.

All of a sudden, you hear voices yelling from behind you. "Danno! Charlie!"

You look back to see a tall, dark, imposing man and a beautiful teenage girl rushing in your direction. Charlie shouts back at them, "Daddy! Gracie!"

So you guess they must be Danny's husband and daughter.

This new man drops down to Charlie's level and checks on him, trying to see if he's injured. "Are you okay? Charlie?"

"Dad! Dad! Danno was soooo cool! He pushing and then flipping and then that man went aaargh!" Charlie re-tells the scene to his father, holding his elbow behind his back to show him.

Couldn't really understand his son's story, the man asks his husband to elaborate, "Danny, what's happening here? Why are you arresting this man?"

"I'm not arresting anybody, Steve. We don't have jurisdiction to make an arrest, you know? Since we are in LA, not Hawaii? I'm just holding this man until LAPD shows up," Danny clarifies to his husband, Steve.

"But why?" Steve is still confused.

"This guy here, what's your name?" Danny barks at the thief. But his mouth stays glued. "Really? Would you prefer my ex-SEAL here asking you the question?" Danny gestures in Steve's direction.

Steve stands tall. His hands are folded in front of his chest. His biceps bulge in his tight t-shirt. The thief's face turns green, looking fearful. Steve's scowl was probably not helping either.

"Danny?? What's going on here?" Steve begins to lose his patience.

"What?? It's no big deal, babe!" Danny yells back at Steve. "This guy here tried to nick this woman's phone. I'm just helping her," Danny motions in your direction.

"Y/N, here's my husband, Steve McGarrett, and our daughter, Grace," Danny continues to introduce you to his family. You shake their hands and exchanging simple pleasantries.

"As I said, I just helped Y/N to get her phone back. Now we are waiting for LAPD," Danny ends his explanation.

Shortly a police car comes, and two officers quickly take their statements. Initially, the police officers are bemused to find the thief already sat with his hands tied behind his back. After Danny explains that he is a Detective from Honolulu PD and how he prevented the attempted theft, the police officers understand the situation. They ask if you'd like to press charges on Tom Norris, that's the thief's name according to his ID. Considering you're not hurt, you decline on pressing charges. The police are gone with the thief sooner than you expected.

"Can I treat you lunch for your trouble? Shoot! A super late lunch?" You corrected after checking your watch.

"Hey, don't worry, it's no trouble at all," Danny says to you with a big smile.

"No, no, seriously. You guys were on holiday, I guess. But still bothered to help me. Lunch is the least I can do."

Before long, they arrange to get a table for five and talk a lot during the meal.

◢◤

"So you guys are from Hawaii? That's nice!" You tell the family.

"See, Danno? That's what you're supposed to say about Hawaii. You're the only one who describes Hawaii as a pineapple-infested hell hole," laments Steve to his husband.

"I'm just telling the truth, babe. How about you, Y/N? Where are you from?" Danny tries to find out.

"Originally from The Netherlands, Amsterdam. But I moved to Chicago last year," You reply.

"Now that, Steve, is a city that would appreciate seasonal changes," Danny nods his approval of Chicago.

"Only you, Danno, who whines about constant sunshine." Steve grumbles.

Grace and Charlie don't react much to their parents' bickering. Too used to their silliness. But you still find it quite funny.

"So you guys are here for vacation?" You ask the family.

"Kind of. We are on holiday. Also, we are visiting the colleges here for Grace, who will graduate high school next year," Steve throws his right arm around Grace's shoulder.

"Yes, we are on an excursion to prove to Grace that LA universities are not better than the University of Hawaii," Danny quips from Steve's left.

Grace whines at his father, "Danno..."

"Danny here doesn't want his children to be far away from him," Steve enlightens you. "But I think going to school in LA would be better than The Netherlands. Wouldn't it, babe?" Steve winks at Grace.

"Do not joke about that, Steven!" Danny elbows his husband hard.

Grace looks thoughtful for a moment, "Y/N, did you go to college in the Netherlands? What do you think my chance to study there?"

"Gracie, can I come with you to This Otherlands?" Charlie innocently chirps to his sister.

Steve is laughing so loud, even after Danny punches his arm.

"What about you, Y/N? What are you doing in LA? Are you on vacation too?" Danny questions you after the laughter receded.

"I'm here for work. Most of the time, I'd do it remotely from Chicago. But sometimes I have to make the trip here or to Amsterdam," You tell them.

"What do you do?"

"I'm a music producer," You give a simple answer.

"What instruments do you play?" Steve is curious. "Guitar?"

"Mostly piano and synthesizer. I do play guitar, but I'm just an okay guitar player. I wish I could play better,"

"Dad plays guitar too!" Charlie happily declares as he points at Steve.

You cheer at Charlie's enthusiasm, "Does he? That's great!"

"Yeah, he plays very well. Maybe Dad can teach you to play better," Charlie directs you.

"Oh, yes, that would be awesome," You wholeheartedly agree with Charlie, as the rest of the table laughing at the idea of Steve teaches music.

◢◤

"Danny, I was wondering if you could explain something to me," You turn to the man.

"Shoot," Danny nods as he puts down his juice glass.

"The arm lock that you did to the thief. Where did you learn that? Did Steve teach you that?" You ask him, genuinely want to know.

"Well, even though Steve here was the Navy SEAL," Danny glares at his husband, who replies with a smirk, "I have been working as a cop for more than 20 years now. I know some moves too,"

"But that's not a cop's move," You contradict him.

"How do you know any cop's moves?" Danny confronts you back.

"My boyfriend is a cop in Chicago," You give Danny a sheepish smile.

"Ah, I see. Did your boyfriend teach you self-defense?"

"He did. I'm nowhere near good as Jay. But it's a start," You answer Danny.

"Of course. If he's not good at it, then he's not a good cop," Danny comments without sounding too arrogant.

"Jay also taught me about guns. Personally, I don't like it, but he needs me to know about it, especially gun safety. So..." You shrug.

Danny nods his understanding, "Yeah. Be glad that he doesn't bring home grenades or other explosives," Danny gives Steve a stink eye. "Unlike some Super!SEAL here,"

Steve is immune to that look. It doesn't seem to affect him anymore.

You smile at their interaction, "Jay was an Army Ranger. After he came back, he went to Police Academy,"

"Really?" Steve looks interested.

"Oh, here we go," Danny sighs at his husband.

Steve grins but decides not to comment on it any further. He goes praising Danny instead.

"But Danny is being too modest here. He is a great fighter. Sometimes he's even better than me. Which lots of people find it surprising, considering I was a SEAL,"

"and don't you forget it, babe," Danny smirks at Steve, who returns it with a chaste kiss.

You sigh internally. Looking at the lovely couple made you miss your boyfriend, Jay.

"In all seriousness," Danny begins, "I practiced Jiu-Jitsu since high school. That's where the moves come from," He pauses to sip on his drink.

"I got my Blue Belt when I entered The Police Academy. For me, I think, I learned how to fight better in Jiu-Jitsu than what they taught us there," Danny continues.

"Do you also teach it to Grace and Charlie?" You ask the parents.

"Yeah. Danny taught them both as early as possible. Grace already got her Yellow Belt when we first met. Now she is working for her Purple Belt," Steve brags. Danny also looks so proud. Grace, though, tries so hard not to roll her eyes at her parents.

"Me too! I will get my Yellow Belt soon! Right, Danno?" Charlie exclaims.

"Of course you are kiddo. After that, you surely can beat your Dad here," Danny ruffles Charlie's hair. Steve offers his palm for a high five, but Charlie punches it instead. He giggles when Steve is faking to be hurt by Charlie's tiny fist.

"Do you think I could learn it too?" You inquire to Danny.

Danny and Steve look at each other. You're waiting for their answer, hoping that they will agree.

Before they decide anything, Grace interrupts, "We can go check out the place that Sensei Egan told us, Danno."

"Yeah, that's a great idea," Steve agrees to his daughter's suggestion. "We can check that dojo for Grace, meeting the instructor. Maybe could show some moves too for y/n,"

"Okay then. Grace, share the dojo address with y/n. We can meet you there tomorrow morning, what do you say, y/n?" Danny asks you.

You're supposed to fly back to Chicago next afternoon, but what the hell, you are very interested in this offer. "Yes, sure. If you don't mind me crashing your holiday plan again?"

"No, not at all. We need to check out that place anyway." Steve waves off your worry.

Grace passes her phone to you. "You can puy your number there. I will forward you the address,"

You tap your number to Grace's phone before groaning when you remember that your phone is dead. "Could you e-mail me instead? I don't think I could replace my phone soon,"

Danny doesn't even try to hold his laugh at your poor luck.

◢◤

The next day, you take an Uber to the gym. No, it's The Dojo. You correct yourself. When you step in, Charlie is shouting at you from across the room. "Y/N!" Standing next to his sister, Charlie crazily waves at you, worried that you could not see him.

You remove your shoes, placed them accordingly at the remarked spot. Walking towards Charlie and Grace, you see the Williams-McGarrett clan wear similar outfits with other people in The Dojo. The only differences between them are their belts. Danny wears a Black Belt with a red stripe, while Steve wears a Brown Belt. Grace has Blue Belt, and Charlie has a White one. Knowing that you will do some workout, you wear a black t-shirt and training pants. Definitely a contrast in a room full of jiu-jitsu outfits.

Danny and Steve are talking to a guy on the other side of the room. This guy has a Black Belt with more stripes than Danny's, indicating that he is the instructor here.

"Hey, guys. Good morning," You greet Grace and Charlie. They reply with a big smile.

"Just out of interest, do you guys always bring your uniform on your holiday?" You gesture to Grace's clothes.

Grace laughs at your question, "It is called Gi. Yes, we are always bringing them along on holiday," She laughs again at your shocked face. "No, I'm joking. It's because we know we will visit this dojo, so we have our Gi with us,"

Soon Danny and Steve come over to your side. "Hi, y/n. So I talked to Sensei Marcus there," Danny gestures to the guy he spoke to. "We are going to follow their training for today. You can watch from the side if you're not sure you want to do it. The first hour would be the class for Kids and Teens,"

You see Grace and Charlie lining up in the center of the room with other children. They seem to be divided by belts instead of age.

"The next hour would be the adult class," Danny pauses for a moment. "If you want my suggestion, I encourage you to join the Teens class. I hope you don't feel insulted by that."

You chuckle at his words, "Not at all. I understand,"

"If it's too much, don't hesitate to stop and move aside. Everyone will understand," Steve adds.

You exhale softly, readying yourself, "Okay," before joining the line.

The first fifteen minutes, they start with stretching. So far, you have no problems with it. You practice Yoga for the last few years. You know how to stretch.

The next one, they teach you how to fall correctly. Which turns out to be a hard thing to do. At first, an instructor's assistant helps you. After a few moments, she moves away to help others. But you're still not doing it right. So Danny pulls you aside and teaches you privately for the rest of the hour.

You fall so many times until it tired you out. You cannot even get up from the mat. Your shoulders would have been bruised with so many times you landed incorrectly.

"Still interested to learn this?" Danny grabs your hand to help you get up.

Even though the lesson exhausts you, you feel great. You learn a lot, even from doing the same thing over and over again. "Hell yeah!" You grin at Danny.

"Crazy woman!" Danny pats your shoulders. Right where it hurts the most. You can't help but flinch away.

"Hurt, wasn't it? Why don't you go sit down on the outside of the mat with Charlie?"

Charlie sits on one side of the mat, a bottle of water in his hand. He is watching Grace, who has her hands on Steve's Gi, trying to throw Steve down.

Danny silently pays attention to his husband and daughter on the mat. But you can see his hands slightly move as if he's the one sparring.

Shortly, Grace has a chance to push Steve. Steve lost his balance for a moment before countering her attack. Grace would've fallen down hard if Steve didn't hanging to Grace's Gi so tight to slow her fall.

"That's great, Grace," Steve says to his daughter as he helps her up. They bow to each other to end the spar. Danny is clapping from outside the mat, "Good job, Monkey,"

Of course, you and Charlie follow Danny's example to cheer for Grace.

You still sit on the side of the mat, now also accompanied by Grace. You watch the next class practice, where Danny and Steve spar with other students for about an hour.

After the class is done, Steve taps on Danny's shoulder, "Danny, could you help me with this move?" He nods in the direction of the mat.

Danny responds with rolling eyes at his husband's antics.

Grace runs commentary in the background, "Dad didn't actually need help from Danno. However, you're not allowed to ask a higher belt to spar with. It's a sign of disrespect. But Dad and Danno often work differently between each other,"

You see Danny and Steve taking place at a ready position. It takes time before anybody falls, or one locks each other. They move fluidly. When one throws the other, they quickly bring them down along then keep them in a lock. The locks are soon countered, and they back up again. The great thing is they look like they enjoy sparring with each other. They share a laugh whenever someone throws the other or someone holds the other in a lock. You find that very interesting.

The sparring ends when Danny makes a grappling move that Steve cannot counter, so he has to tap out.

After the sparring, Steve sits back with you and his kids while Danny goes over to Sensei Marcus. Steve asks your opinion about Jiu-Jitsu, whether you're still interested to learn it.

"Very much, yeah. The first thing I will do once I'm back in Chicago is to find a Dojo," You excitedly tell Steve.

"Well, lucky for you, Sensei Marcus here knows a lot of Jiu-Jitsu instructors," All of a sudden, Danny joins your conversation. Sensei Marcus stands beside him.

"Sure, if you want to keep learning Jiu-Jitsu, I will give you some references of my fellows in Chicago," Marcus informs you.

"That would be awesome!"

Marcus shakes your hand, "Good luck!" and moves to shake hands with the rest of the Williams-McGarrett family. "Thanks for visiting our dojo. Please come again whenever you're in LA,"

They all look tired, but their smiles beam as bright as Hawaiian sunshine.

◢◤

Two weeks later, in Chicago,

You see your boyfriend's truck parked in front of your house as you walk home from the bus stop. You walk much slower than you used to. Your body is hurting all over the place, but you feel elated.

The day after you came home from Los Angeles, Jay was caught in a hard case. He had to fly out to New York and liaised with NYPD SVU to solve it.

You missed him a lot, for sure. Jay called you whenever he could for these past two weeks. Texted you every day too. But you have not got the chance to tell Jay about your new interest in Jiu-Jitsu.

After your last trip to LA, you promptly checked out the Dojo that Sensei Marcus referred to you. You were thrilled to find out that it's only fifteen minutes bus ride from your house.

You met with one of the instructors there and asked for a private class. Because that's what Danny advised you to do. "After you have a better understanding of the lessons, then I want you to go train with other people at the dojo. But for the first five or six months, you might've been better with one-on-one lessons,"

The instructor, Professor Louisa, is delighted to provide. You work on a schedule three to four times a week. The professor initially suggested only two meets in a week. But considering your occasional trip abroad for work, you prefer to do more lessons when you're in town.

This is the third week you've been learning jiu-jitsu in Chicago. Scraps and bruises are inevitable. Jay would freak out if he saw them before you could explain to him.

Jay's flight back from New York landed about two hours ago. He must've been coming directly to your place from the O'Hare. The house smells amazing when you enter the room. Following your nose leads you to the kitchen. You find your boyfriend pulling out what seems to be garlic bread from the oven, "Hey, babe. You're back!"

"Hey, you! Perfect timing!" Jay secures the tray aside before stepping closer to you. He puts one hand on your waist, the other one on your back. Moving even closer to kiss you.

His passion makes you forget your bruises for a moment. When Jay pushes you playfully, your shoulder hits the nearest wall. You instantly cry out in pain. "Argh!"

"What's wrong?" Jay stops everything he's doing to you right away.

"Nothing, I just got some bruises," You rub the pain from your shoulder.

"How come?" Jay begins to take off your t-shirt to check on the bruises, but you move away from his grasp.

"Hold on. Let me take a shower. I must've been rank from sweat. Then I'll tell you everything," You kiss Jay one more time before going to the bedroom.

As you eat the pasta primavera that Jay made, you ask him about his case in New York, "How was it?"

"It's done. We did what we have to do,"

Not interested in talking about his case, Jay interrogates you instead, "So, where did you get the bruise? I swear, I only left the city for two weeks, and you're already in trouble," Jay shakes his head.

"I'm not! I just joined this gym. Dojo, I meant. I'm taking Jiu-Jitsu lessons!" You cheerfully tell Jay.

"You what?" Jay pauses from drinking his wine.

So you told Jay the whole story. About how someone tried to snatch your phone when you're in LA. How you met the Williams-McGarrett family from Hawaii. How they got you into jiu-jitsu.

"It's so fun, Jay. Yeah, sure, I got bruises and scraps. But whenever I got stuck with my work, I go have a practice at the dojo, and then I come home feeling energized," You confess to your boyfriend.

"Really?" Jay looks at you, disbelieving.

"Uhuh," You nod as you swallow your spaghetti. "You know what, you should come and see the dojo. It might interest you too,"

"I know about martial arts, babe. I taught you how to punch, remember?" Jay reminds you.

"Yes, you did," You say in giggles, "Professor Louisa said she won't teach me how to punch,"

"Of course, Jiu-jitsu has a different approach than other martial art, say karate. Or boxing," Jay puts down his fork on the empty plate. "You sure you enjoy it?"

You hold Jay's hand and look into his eyes, "I am. This is something I want to do seriously, Jay. I admit part of it comes from you and your job. Like you always said, I need to be able to defend myself. Because you think I could get drag into your case one day,"

Jay puts his other hand on top of yours, looking somehow regretful, "Babe..."

"No, no. But I also do this for myself. Even though my body hurts, I feel great about myself. I feel more confident. It's really inspiring,"

Jay brings your hand to his lips, "Okay then, as long as you're happy with it. But I'm still going to take you to the gun range,"

You roll your eyes in response, "Of course, you will,"

◢◤

A week later, Jay walks up to The Dojo on the second floor. Someone greets him at the entrance, "Hey, man. Can I help you?"

"I suppose to pick up my girlfriend. She is training with..." Jay tries to remember the instructor's name. "Louisa?"

"Ah, yes, Professor Louisa. You must be y/n's boyfriend. I'm Professor Andy, the head of this dojo," The man offers his hand.

"Jay Halstead," Jay shakes Andy's hand.

"I think she will finish in ten minutes. You wanna see her practice?"

"Sure. If it would not be disturbing?" Jay hesitates.

"Not at all. Y/n is the only one in there right now," Andy directs Jay inside the dojo. He asks Jay to remove his shoes before stepping into the room.

Jay watches his girlfriend silently. He winces a couple times when you fall down. But he is amazed to see you immediately stand up again.

"She's resilient, your woman is,"

Jay chuckles at Andy's remark, "Yes, she is,"

Shortly after you bow to your instructor, you see Jay standing on the side with Professor Andy.

You walk towards them with a smile, "I see you met my boyfriend, Prof,"

"I did, yeah," Andy nods. "I don't think Jay would be interested in jiu-jitsu, though," He comments.

"Correction, I'm not interested to see you got thrown down repeatedly," Jay points out.

"Hey!" You hit Jay's arms as both Professors laugh at you.

"But that's how we are supposed to learn. If you don't know how to fall, you won't get back up again," Louisa says serenely.

Andy hums his agreement before ushering you out. "Alright, get out of here, you lovebird,"

When you're in the locker room, changing your Gi, Jay approaches Andy again. But before Jay could say anything, Andy hands a leaflet to him.

"Y/N told me you're a police officer. You might be interested in these classes,"

Jay takes it with a laugh, "Thanks, man. I'll check it out," He puts the leaflet on his jacket pocket and pulls out his card.

"If anything happens when Y/N is here. Or if you need anything I can help with, please give me a call," Jay sounds solemn.

Andy takes the card, "Don't worry, man. We take good care of our students here,"

"I know," Jay nods.

Soon you come out with a gym bag on your shoulder. "See you next week, Prof!"

Andy waves to the couple, "Bye, y/n. See you again, Jay!"

◢◤

Two years later,

You step out of the record store in Pilsen empty-handed, failing to find the vinyl you're looking for. You start walking west to the bus stop when you hear a commotion ahead.

You see a guy pushing people out of his way. He keeps looking behind his back like he's running from something.

"Police! Get out of the way!" You hear other voices shouting.

So this guy seems to be running from the police, you thought to yourself.

The man tries to shove you aside, but your reflex is much better. Your hands instantly grab the front of his shirt. When he tries to push you away, your right foot finds his inner left calf and sweeps him down.

When he tries to move away from your grasp, you lean down and grip his right wrist tightly with your right hand. You put your right elbow beside his right ear while your left elbow is placed underneath his elbow. Your left-hand moves to hold your right wrist from below his right hand. His arm is essentially locked when your left bicep snugs against his right tricep. You raise your elbow slightly from the surface. The more he wiggles his way out, the higher you raise his elbow from the surface, the more painful the lock is.

You hear an impressed whistle from above. When you look up, you find Jay and Hailey standing in front of you. Jay gets a huge grin on his face while Hailey is sporting a shocked look.

"Nice takedown, babe," Jay compliments you.

"Thanks. You might wanna take over from here, though," You say to your boyfriend as you hear few more steps rushing towards you.

You loosen the lock after you are sure Jay gets his hand on the perp. He grabs the suspect up from the floor and pushes him towards the wall.

You find a hand extends in front of your face, offering to help you stand up. You look up to see it was Hailey. You take her hand with a soft thanks.

Once you're back on your feet, you look around to see the other members of the Intelligence Unit staring at you. Adam, Kim, and Kevin are mirroring Hailey's initial look of surprise. Jay's boss, Hank Voight, looks impassive as always. But you catch an amused twitch at one corner of his lips.

"Man, at least give me time to feel my hand again! That bitch could break my arm, you know!" you hear the perp complaining when Jay prepares to cuff him.

Without saying anything in response, Jay folds the perp's wrist inside. The perp yells even louder because of the wristlock.

Kevin moves to take the man away from Jay before any further damage could happen. He ushers the perp right away to a nearby cop car.

Jay turns to check on his girlfriend, "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good." You nod back at him.

"I didn't know you could do that, Y/N," Hailey tells you. "You never tell me that your girlfriend practiced any martial arts," She continues to slap Jay's shoulder.

You answer with a sheepish smile, "It's kinda new,"

"Blue Belt in Jiu-Jitsu is not "kinda new" babe," Jay elbows you playfully.

The team boss pats your shoulder once before walking back to his car, "Good job, Y/LN,"

Kim, who's partnered up with Voight today, quickly follows. But not before inviting you for drinks, "You have to tell me all about this over drinks!"

"See? Even Voight agrees. We'll make a cop-out of you soon, Y/N," Adam offers his fistbump to you.

You meet his with your fistbump but shake your head, laughing, "Not in a million years, Ruzek,"

He only replies with his laugh and walks towards Kevin and the perp.

Jay puts his arm around your shoulders with a huge smile, "C'mon, Kev and Ruz can take care of the perp for a while. Hailey and I will drop you home."

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eloves-writes · 3 years ago

Text

102 degrees

[spencer reid x reader]

summary : spencer gets a little flustered by reader on a particularly hot case

a/n : i hope this makes sense bc i have a really weird feeling that it doesn’t lmao anyways hope you enjoy & as always, requests are open! <3

couple - spencer reid x (she/her) reader

content warnings - mentions of bodies/victims (not graphic) , very brief reference to a knife (also not graphic)

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

florida was always hot, and always an unpleasant place to be sent for a case in mid-july. heat made things difficult; difficult to keep a level head, difficult to solve the case when the bodies decomposed twice as fast, and difficult for spencer reid to concentrate when his beautiful co-worker was wearing such little clothing.

you were dressed that morning in loose fitting pants and a white spaghetti strap tank top that made it far too easy for the boy genius’ eyes to wander over to your chest. you had noticed a few days ago (of course, spencer knew a lot of words but clearly subtle wasn’t one of them) the level of his eyeline, and had decided to tease him with your favourite selection of tank tops. usually if a man objectified you, you’d make a point of shifting your gun holster just to remind him it was there, but with spencer it was different. the way he couldn’t stop himself from watching you with the sort of innate curiosity expected from a young child walking by a candy store, the way he turned his head and scratched his cheek when you went to meet his eyes. you didn’t mind it too much.

“can i get anyone a coffee?” hotch asked, his customary suit jacket hung over the back of his chair.

“i’m alright thanks,” emily replied. you noticed jj shooting her similar looks to the ones reid was giving you and you smirked to yourself.

“could you get me a soda?” you asked. “it’s too hot for coffee.”

there were various murmurs across the room of “yeah, a soda sounds good,” before hotch left and you all went back to the case. when he returned, he brought news on the case.

“a body was just found a few miles west of palm beach, appears to be the same M.O. and victim type as our unsub. y/l/n, reid, can you go and check it out? garcia’s already sent you the location.”

you took a single sip of your soda before standing up. “come on then spence.”

he followed you out of the police station like a lost puppy, handing you the keys to the SUV. it was a shame he didn’t like to drive- he looked pretty hot in the driver’s seat if you could admit it. still, he climbed into the passenger side and began to talk about some statistic about summer temperatures in florida. you took an unwonted interest in the way he spoke; he seemed nervous, and he kept pausing as if he expected you to interrupt him. you didn't. he only stopped when you stretched your arm to the back of his seat to look behind you as you parked the car. you were suddenly a lot closer to him than you had been previously, and the position allowed spencer to get a waft of your perfume and an eyeful of your chest. he froze up until you moved back and then hurriedly exited the car. you snickered to yourself as you momentarily watched him stand on the pavement blushing and fiddling with the strap of his bag. you thought he was cute when he was flustered.

hotch had been right, the body that had been found definitely was of your unsub and the local police deputy was waiting for you as you walked up to the dump site.

“fbi right?” he asked, glancing you both up and down. “you look fresh out of high school.”

you and spencer exchanged a certain type of look before heading to inspect the body. the deputy could identify the body so you sent the name to garcia, bending over to get a better look at the victim. reid wasn’t looking at the victim though, rather at you as you tied your hair. he followed your fingers as they traced up your sweat-covered neck to pull the hair into a ponytail and he couldn’t help but imagine you doing it over him and not over the dead body of a young woman. he realised the thoughts were completely inappropriate, but you somehow sent his self control out of the window. eventually you finished your inspection and headed back to the car.

once you were both sat down, you turned to face spencer as the engine started up. he looked at you puzzled.

“are we .... going?” he asked hesitantly, aware of you in such close proximity to him once again.

you leaned over, resting your elbow on his seat so you were face to face. “not yet, pretty boy. for the brains of the team, you’re certainly making me do all the work today.”

“i am?”

“yup. you let me do all the work whilst you stood and ... admired me,” you flirted. you weren’t usually so bold, but he was like putty in your hand and you simply couldn’t resist.

he gulped, his face flushing a shade of pink. “i was?”

“something interesting about me this week, reid? can’t seem to take your eyes off me.”

“no, no nothing interesting. not that you’re not interesting, you are interesting- not more interesting than usual. you’re pretty! erm, i didn’t mean to say that- why are you laughing?”

you took a minute, then started to drive. spencer sat in silence, wholly unsure of what to say in the situation he found himself in. the tension in the car was so thick you could have cut it with a knife. you were biding your time, waiting until it was almost unbearable to answer his question. the moment came as you pulled back into the police station parking lot. you dramatically looked over to him and he nervously gulped once again.

you held back another laugh, thoroughly enjoying yourself. “so you think i’m pretty, huh.”

his pitch noticeably increased in his reply. “yeah, yeah, i guess you’re pretty, yeah.”

your face was again unsettlingly close to his, and his eyes kept unconsciously flicking to your lips.

“you want to kiss me, pretty boy?”

his eyes widened, but no words came out of his mouth. prentiss wasn’t kidding when she said pretty girls slashed his IQ to 60.

“because i’d quite like to kiss you,” you said, bringing your voice down to a whisper. “would that be ok?”

“mhm, yup.”

you both lent in to close to gap between you, so close you could almost feel his lips on yours- but you pulled back at the last minute.

“very unprofessional spence, keep your eyes to yourself,” you smiled cheekily, winking at him as you got out the car. you immediately began to walk into the precinct but an arm firmly caught yours.

“can’t get enough of me can you pretty boy-” you began, cut off by spencer kissing you, hard. his sudden dominance caught you off guard and you couldn’t stop yourself getting lost in the taste of him, and the feeling of his hands in your hair untangling your handiwork.

“oh. my. god,” a voice came from behind you both. you quickly pulled away to reveal a cocky looking prentiss and a shocked looking hotch.

“wow,” she started sarcastically. “i simply never saw this coming. what about you boss?”

hotch gave her a disapproving look, then reluctantly brought 2 $10 bills out his back pocket and handed it to her.

“were you betting on us kissing?” you exclaimed, your cheeks the same colour as emily’s red shirt.

“absolutely not,” hotch answered seriously. “we were betting on who’d catch you.”

“and you called me unprofessional,” spencer laughed uncomfortably as you headed inside.

“hey! you were staring at my tits all week that definitely qualifies!”

“agents, behave.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #emily prentiss #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #hes so cute pls

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passable-talent · 5 years ago

Note

May I please request a zuko fix where the reader is a huge flower buff (like knows the meanings and names) and is more graceful and peaceful rather than a fighter despite being a fire bender and zuko thinks she doesn't care or take the war seriously and when zuko joins the gang he doesn't see how much she contributes until he sees her taking care of everyone one night and questions the others and learns she in fact is a fierce fighter and he takes her up on a challenge to see for himself

playful fight? where there’s a lil pride involved? but there’s also a lot of pining? hmmmmm

also I love/hate writing fight scenes bc they’re SO FUN but also I’m such a perfectionist (and actually a martial artist so like... I see flaws u know?) that I actually have to get up and act them out and that’s time consuming but also a good workout so whatever ? I guess

you would not believe the amount of flower research in both the avatar and real world I did before going into this ask

this is too much to preface a story with gd I’m annoying but I hope u don’t mind that I was gender nonspecific. It’s a thing with me since there’s like never any male readers on tumblr. so even though you kinda asked for female reader I made it gender nonspecific because that’s what I do I hope it’s ok

anyway here we go!!

Zuko simply did not understand.

The house where his family vacationed was big and beautiful, and a good place to hide until Sozin’s comet. What he never had noticed, until now, were the flowers growing all around the courtyard and the path to the beach. Over the years of disregard, the more exotic flowers had died and been replaced by native life, taking over much more than the flowerbeds he barely remembered the staff taking care of. There were fire lilies, those he recognized, but there were many other flowers that he had never bothered to learn the name of.

Y/N knew all of their names.

He didn’t understand you. He couldn’t figure you out. You were of the fire nation, and a bender, but he had never seen you fight. All you did, as far as he could tell, was pull the others away from danger, settle fights, and tend to flowers that seemed perfectly capable of survival all on their own. It’s not that it bothered him, but it did, because you seemed so absolutely noncommital. Nonchalant. Indifferent. How had another citizen of the fire nation come to the realization that the fire nation was evil, and gathered up the courage to join the avatar, and yet didn’t seem to care about the war at all?

When he’d first met you, he thought you didn’t have much use to the team at all. He thought you just another kid caught up in the war, like the others that were at the western air temple after the day of black sun. But after the brief battle with Azula, he came to see your worth.

“If only we had some Aloe,” you’d murmured as you passed him, on your way to Sokka’s side after he had complained of a sunburn, riding all day on Appa’s back.

“Can we get some?” Katara asked, leaning against the side of Appa’s saddle.

“No,” you replied, “too far away. It only grows near the Si Wong desert, and we definitely can’t go there right now.”

“So what can we do?” asked Katara again, and you shrugged, settling down beside Sokka, on his right while Toph clutched onto his left arm.

“The medical treatment for burns in the fire nation are less advanced then you’d expect. But there’s a few plants that can be soothing- even if not as much as Aloe. If there’s any banana leaf nearby our destination, that may help.” Zuko, though he’d remained silent, cocked an eyebrow in surprise. Medicinal knowledge of plants- that seemed extremely useful, especially given the group’s nomadic behavior. He briefly wished that you had been around while his uncle had had his quarrel with the white jade bush.

More so, though, in the following days he began to see your similarities to Katara- you were kind, and caring, and you made sure that the group was taken care of. You sat through worries and soothed fears the best you could, and that was admirable. You almost reminded him of his mother.

One question was left on his mind. If you were a fire bender- why did Aang need him to teach him firebending?

After you had gone to bed one night, he sat around a fire with Aang, Sokka, and Toph to pose that very question.

“Is it because they’re not a very strong bender? I’ve never even seen them use firebending, they must not be that good.”

“Oh, no,” Sokka said, “they’re actually really good. Probably better than you.” He laughed a bit after his words, earning a punch in the rib cage from Toph, which made Zuko think that Sokka was only trying to tease.

“Really?” He asked, looking to Aang, whose information he’d trust.

“Yeah,” Aang said, “they’re good. But they didn’t want to teach me- said that they didn’t have enough formal training. I think they just didn’t want to be that violent. They’re a pacifist, like me.”

“I could see that,” Zuko said, gazing into the fire. In his fingers he twirled an orange cyclamen, which you had given him before you’d gone to bed. When he’d asked why, you had responded that ‘it was a flower without meaning*, and the color reminded you of him’. He didn’t know what to do with it now, though, before he went to bed. He didn’t want to toss it in the fire, as that felt too heartless, but he knew it was dying now that it was picked. So, when he stood to return to his room for the night, he crouched by one of the overgrown flowerbeds and propped it up in the soil.

Maybe, from its turmoil, it would grow roots and live. Or maybe it would die surrounded by the beauty of the other flowers.

After spending all night wondering the true extent of your prowess, when morning came Zuko decided to find out.

“Spar me,” he said, catching you alone in the courtyard. “I need to be reminded what it’s like to fight a fire bender, and I’ve been told you’re quite good.” You let a little quirk of a smile onto your lips and turned to face him, tilting your head.

“You sure? What if it hurts your pride?” He shook his head, expression stoic as ever.

“It won’t. Either I’ll beat you or I’ll learn.” You took off an outer layer you’d been wearing and, carrying it, made your way toward the beach.

“Good way to think about it,” you said, laying down your jacket on a stone just outside the entryway. But as you straightened back up you planted your forward foot and flashed your other foot up and across, sending an arc of flame toward the prince. He quickly noticed that the game had begun and diverted the flame to his left, sliding his foot into a strong stance before punching flames toward you. By this time you had completed your spin and dove out of the path of his fire, rolling onto your feet and into a tight stance, your hands at your chest. You took them to your left, then swung them to your right to add momentum to your spin, lifting your feet from the ground for a round kick that sent another arc of flame toward him. He dove forward to get out of the way, getting closer to you, and sweeping one of your feet out from under you. You landed on your back, your fall cushioned as much as it could have been, and he pinned you down by hovering over you.

“You’re impressive,“ he said, and you gave him a look somewhere between pleading and fondness. His moment’s hesitation allowed you to swing your foot and use both its momentum and a shove from your elbows to flip him onto his back, your two foremost fingers creating a fire dagger at his throat, not close enough to threaten. This was only sparring, after all.

“Have you forgotten the rules of a match? It’s not over until the opponent yields.” He smiled, slightly, as he looked up at you.

“I yield.” You chuckled and stood up, giving him a hand to right him on his feet as well.

“You have more honor than I,” you told him, knowing that you only won thanks to trickery. A slight laugh rumbled from his chest and he tossed your jacket toward you again.

“How I’d love for my father to hear you say that.”

*a cyclamen a flower that, when given, expresses sincere feelings of admiration and romance. y/n was cheeky

-🦌 Roe

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pink-wasteland · 3 years ago

Text

Screenshot: Adrienette that’s borderline crack in the best way (Teen&up)

It was a nightmare. He hadn’t meant to leave his phone unattended, Alya had asked him a question and when he put his phone down to give her his full attention, Nino had picked it up to check the time and instead was greeted with a private Instagram account Adrien had created with the specific purpose to lurk in peace.

“No way, dude. Do you just stalk a bunch of Ladybug look alikes in your spare time?”

Adrien gaped, too horrified to process his world falling apart around him.

“Wow, look at this one, she looks almost exactly like ladybug!”

“Let me see!” Alya sounded too eager.

He’d never admit it, but there were more than just a few girls on his private Instagram that looked “exactly like” ladybug. And no, it wasn’t just a uncanny accident.

But the account his friend happened to stumble on was his favorite, a well off Russian Instagram model who’s handle was Steelix.

She could pass for a perfect Ladybug, if not for her brown eyes. She was perfect in almost every way, and posted great *ahem* material. Ladybug was the fantasy girl of his dreams and anybody that looked liked her was at risk of being followed and stalked by his private finsta page.

His private page he was privately ashamed of.

That his best friend was now holding up to show his own girlfriend, and the girl Adrien quietly, sort-of had a crush on. This really was his worst nightmare. He tried to snatch the phone from Nino but to no avail. “It’s just some girl. I like her photography.”

“Yeah sure that’s why you liked all her recent pictures and wrote in the comments ‘omg’ with a heart face, a drooling face, and two fire emojis.”

Adrien was red in the face, his mouth gone completely dry not knowing what to say.

“Wow Adrien, these are the kind of girls you like?” Alya asked.

Adrien glanced toward Marinette, and the look on her face was perfectly surprised. Ironically, her face was one of the ones he lives to see grace the screen of his dirty private Insta. Marinette had great Ladybug features right down to the freckles on her nose. The only bad thing was Marinette rarely posted any selfies at all, and although her account was an interesting documentary of her handmade fashions, it did not serve the dirty purpose his fake account had followed her for.

“So what?” He finally grabbed the phone from Nino and was getting back some of his composure, although his face was still deeply flushed.

“Oh no reason.” Alya’s smile was wicked, and it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

——__ __——__ __

Marinette ponders what she just witnessed while Alya blabs in her ear. She wasn’t holding the phone, but it sure looked like he was following a lot of slim girls with shoulder length black hair. If she didn’t know any better she would think he would have a type... And he certainly did nothing to dissuade that idea. He turned beet red and made some dumb excuse about photography. And that girl.. the one whose photo he had commented on, Marinette knew her. Well, she had previously followed her. Steelix has such a similar face structure to her own that she had been a phenomenal teacher of makeup to Marinette. She knew all the right things to use and what products would work on her just by watching what Steelix recommended. She had loved following her for her beauty content, but when her account started becoming more of a travel diary with pictures of her on island beaches in bikinis with inspirational quotes covering the captions, Marinette had to find other places to search for helpful information.

All of these thoughts were making her wonder about Adrien, and the things she had neglected to notice about him.

“If Adrien likes shorter, dark haired girls than why doesn’t he comment on my selfies like that?”

“Umm interrupt me, much?”

Oops, she didn’t mean to say that outloud.

“But maybe because you never post any, especially not to insta.”

Marinette thought about this. It was true she used her IG story to post updates on her Latest creations, and her grid was very much like a well thought out catalog. She was very proud of that page, but it was definitely not the place where she’d be posting cute sundress selfies.

“I use my Snapchat for personal stuff like that.”

“Exactly. And I bet you haven’t even given Adrian your snap.”

Marinette frowned, stealing a glance at the boys table. “No, I guess I haven’t.”

“Well what are you doing sitting here talking to me for? Go get his snap and start using it for evil!”

---_ _ _---_ _ _---

“Hey Adrian! Wait up!”

Adrian was more nervous than he should have been when his friend approached, but he kept the feeling off his face. “Hey Marinette! What’s up?”

She stopped right in front of him, “I was just thinking about earlier, how you have a private instagram account.”

Adrians stomach dropped. Had she figured him out? Did she know he was using her and girls that looked like her to quiet his drowning ache for Ladybug? He was so ashamed of himself. He was weak, so desperately weak.

“And it just got me thinking that I’ve known you so long and we don’t even have each others snaps.”

“I’m so- wait, what?”

“Snapchat. We don’t even have eachother added. So, want to be friends?” Marinette held out her phone, snap code ready for him to scan, her happy little pigtailed Bitmoji smiling up at him.

Something warm ticked his belly. “Yeah, definitely.” He pulled out his phone and added her to his seldom used snap account.

——__ __——__ __

He has to add her on his old account, the one with the list of contacts from kids that once gave him their number. There really isn’t that many.

Adrien finds out quickly that Marinette posts her selfies on snap, and keeps her instagram clean and more professional. Very smart for a girl who is looking to go to college next fall. He clicks on her daily story; a picture of her in her bedroom mirror, a picture of fresh croissants and danish, a picture of Alya, Rose and some other girls at her lunch table, and then finally a selfie. A picture taken from straight above, she was lying down in her bed, light pink and white pajamas that looked like they may have a ribbed texture to them. He could see the edge of the selfie stick she was using to get such a wide angle, the idea that she had planned this sleepy in bed photo turned him on more than he could have ever dreamed. He could see the tops of her exposed thighs where her matching pj shorts abruptly ended. Her lean, exposed belly led up to the cropped short sleeve tshirt, that was so on-trend and so Marinette that he had no doubt she’d made it for herself.

Best of all, her blue eyes stared right back at him through the camera and her lips were puckered just right.

It was as he was getting himself all worked up thinking about the blue of her gaze, easing his own back down her body when he realized something else; she wasn’t wearing a bra. And the way she had arched her back to show off the muscles of her stomach only made it more obvious; and Adrian couldn’t believe he didn’t notice them before. Tiny peaks hidden behind soft pink fabric. He was going to lose his mind.

His heart was beating faster and he swallowed back guilt as he unzipped his pants. Her body was amazing, and he was insanely greatful she left this on infinite. He worked himself till climax thinking about what her nipples must look like beneath that thin pajama top, and what it might feel like to taste them. He kept working himself, more gently, thinking about that face, those lips and those eyes and how bad he wanted her to swallow him. Who? Marinette or Ladybug? Honestly in that moment he didn’t feel like he was using her pictures as a ladybug substitute. He cleaned off his phone and thought seriously if he should use his tablet to take a picture of the screen just so Marinette wouldn’t know he screenshoted her. Another, dirtier part of him wants her to know. Wants to comment on her pictures like he’s some random thirsty nobody. Tell her how she makes him sweat, how he can’t get enough. He wants to use his private page to stalk her, too.

Damn sometimes the lines get too confusing.

He sits there, weighing his options. This picture was too good for him to let go. But he didn’t want to look like he was chasing after Marinette’s thirst traps when he knew he was still just a dirty pervert for Ladybug. Adrien felt like screen recording would be even more creepy than a screenshot, and almost made him feel like he was coping out, being a chump. But if he did screenshot her what would Marinette say? Would she ignore it? Would he be sad if she did?

Adrien shook off his intrusive thoughts and screenshotted his new favorite photo. And for good measure; and maybe so he could feel like he was making a move instead of just drooling over his classmate; he sent “wow” with an emoji it took him way too long to choose. Stuck between the drooling or hot emoji he finally got fed up with himself tapped his screen and sent it off without letting himself immediately get anxious. He made a decision, over analyzing himself won’t help anything. Now he just had to wait for Marinette to respond.

And then he could freak out again.

——————————-

A/N: a work in progress, can someone help me come up with their snap handles? I don’t like the ones I have right now. Adriens is supposed to read as (BeAgreste= be•our•guest). I dunno! I’m not good with puns it’s the best I could do! Please help me!

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avengerscompound · 4 years ago

Text

The Tower: Family - 5

The Tower: Family An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Pairing: Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 1591

Warnings: Pregnancy

Synopsis: With new powers, Thor now living on Earth full time, a wedding to plan, and Natasha and Wanda expecting, a lot is changing for Elly and her large and rather unconventional family. When Elise’s parents try to reestablish connections, Elly questions what being a family actually means.

Chapter 5: I do

The month that led up to the wedding went by very quickly. We were all super busy setting up the compound to run without any of the actual Avengers there to run it, making sure the Tower was ready to move back into and making sure the hotel was ready for our wedding. Both Natasha and Wanda had both started experiencing morning sickness, but most days they could keep it under control with ginger pills.

The doctors had arrived and were running their tests and just before we left to our private Caribbean island, they each had their first ultrasounds and we got to see their little peanut-shaped lifeforms growing inside them. Everyone was excited and I was finally at peace with the idea that they were getting the kind of support I didn’t right from the start.

Two of Tony’s private jets took everyone to the island. One contained us and the kids and the other took Rhodey, Happy, Jax, Clarke, Sam’s siblings, May and Peter Parker, Vision, and Hill. That was the entirety of the group attending the wedding. The bonding on Asgard had been the real wedding, this was just making a legal part and our honeymoon.

The honeymoon villa had been renovated to suit us specifically. It had been there in the original hotel, with two bedrooms, a dining room, and living area, as well as its own private pool and a hidden entrance that led right out onto the beach. The dining table went from a six-seater to a twelve-seater and the master bedroom was extended out and a bed to fit all ten of us was built specifically for it.

We didn’t separate at all the night before the wedding. We’d already done all those traditions, and besides, we were far from traditional. Instead, after breakfast, the men went to a different hotel room to get ready, while I had Natasha, Wanda, and a small team getting us ready for the ceremony.

Getting dressed wasn’t too hard. We were wearing simple lace dresses. Natasha and Wanda’s were in matching long red lace. Both were fairly transparent, and while Natasha just wore matching lace underwear in the same shade of red as the dress under hers, Wanda wore a fitted black playsuit under hers. My dress was white lace, loose fitted, and very short, only barely reaching past my ass if I raised my arms above my head or bent over. It was also extremely transparent and I wore a matching white lace bra and panty set under it.

When we had our dresses on, they went about doing our hair and makeup. Riley and Pietro were dressed and ready already and we were also keeping half an eye on them so neither would mess up their hair. Riley had a long white lace dress on with her long blond hair in a halo braid with a crown of small white roses on. Pietro had a similar crown that his shorter blond hair curled into, and he wore a pair of white linen pants with a white linen button-up shirt that was not tucked in over it.

“How nervous do you think Tony is right now?” I asked as the make-up artist put the finishing touches on my makeup.

“Groomzilla?” Natasha asked. “Three thousand.”

I laughed. “But we already did the proper one.”

“Yes, but this is the public one,” Natasha said. “And it’s legal. You’re a Stark now. Yeah, there was the prenup, but you now have him. Legally. He’s going to start thinking he’s going to fuck it up. Plus you know that no matter what, it’s going to get out. I can cloak us, but people will post photos. Those photos are going to get out. And even if they don’t - word will.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” I agreed and the makeup artist moved away making room for the hairstylist to put my crown of white frangipani on. My hair was just left in loose curls that hung down my back and over my shoulders.

“Mm-hmm,” Natasha hummed getting up. Her hair was in a half braid with small red roses worked into it.

The stylist looked me over and gave me a nod. “I think you’re ready,” she said.

I stood and did a half-twirl. “What do you think?”

Wanda looked up at me from where they were threading red Frangipanis into her braid. “He’s going to cry.”

“It’s gonna make his pirate liner run,” Natasha teased.

I gigged. “But I barely even look like a bride.”

She shrugged and they let Wanda up. I picked up my bouquet of pale green, pink, and white tropical wildflowers and looked around. “Do I have everything?”

“Old, new, borrowed, blue? Garters?” Wanda asked.

“Well, I can see you’re wearing your underwear, so that’s no problem,” Natasha teased.

“I don’t have any of the other things,” I said, making a face.

“How can you have a proper American wedding without the traditional wedding things?” Wanda asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t like to do traditional things. Also if I add a garter to this outfit I’ll look like a stripper.”

Natasha looked me up and down. “Confirmed.”

I laughed. “Thanks, Nat.”

“You’re the one that dressed as a stripper for your wedding,” she teased.

Wanda picked up the bottle of bubble mix and the little satin cushion with the rings on them, while Natasha got both of their bouquets of red and white wildflowers.

“Okay, let’s go get married,” I said. “Come on, kiddos.”

We went down to the hidden entrance. I could see the wedding arch standing on the sand, the men all milling around it. In front of them were chairs set up in an aisle with our very small group of guests sitting at them. There were threads from me to every single person there, except the staff. It looked like a big web of light.

Wanda gave Riley her bottle of bubbles and the cushion to Piet as a staff member gave the nod to the duo on acoustic guitar and they began to play ‘Fluff’ by Black Sabbath.

“Okay, kiddos. It’s time,” I said crouching to talk to them. “Pietro, can you walk down to your daddies? Not too fast, not too slow. Go with the music.”

“Otay, mommy,” Pietro said and went through the gate and down the aisle that was laid out with petals.

When he was about halfway down I pointed Riley in the right direction. “You next, bug. Make sure you blow lots of bubbles for everyone but follow your brother.”

She nodded and took off after Pietro a little too fast. I chuckled as I watched her and Wanda took her flowers from Natasha. “See you down there, my love,” she said and kissed me gently before heading out after the kids.

I took Natasha’s hand and squeezed it a little too hard. “Oh, so now you’re nervous?” She teased.

I nodded. “Just a little.”

“It’s Tony,” she said. “And us.”

I nodded. “I know and we did it already.”

She looked at me with her head tilted. “Will you be okay for two seconds?”

I nodded. “Yes. I’ll be okay.”

She kissed me gently and let my hand go. “See you soon, Mrs. Stark.”

I watched her walk down and when she got to the end I stepped out through the gate. Tony looked up at me, his eyes shimmering. He was fidgeting a little, shifting from one leg to another and tapping his fingers on his thighs. When I reached him I offered him my hand and he took it quickly, his hands shaking slightly.

“Hey,” I said softly and gave his hand a small squeeze.

“Hi,” he replied, just as softly.

The celebrant stepped up to us and began. “First,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear. “I’d like to begin by welcoming everyone and thanking each and every one of you for being here on this happiest of days. It’s no accident that each of you is here today, and each of you was invited here because you represent someone important in the individual and collective lives of Tony and Elise.

“We are gathered here today to celebrate the joining of these people. A union that has already been made, but will now be formalized in front of you, their closest friends and family. Not just two hearts but many using these two individuals as a symbol of their group’s unity,” he said and focused his attention on Tony and I. “This contract is not to be entered into lightly, but thoughtfully and seriously, and with a deep understanding of its obligations and responsibilities. Tony and Elise have prepared vows that they will read now.”

Tony cleared his throat and looked into my eyes. “I, Anthony Edward Stark, take you, Elise Frances Cooper, to be my wife. I promise to never lock you out of my lab, especially when you’re only wearing a lab coat and nothing else. I promise that I’ll never enact the ‘kick you out of the tower’ protocol on you and that we will get Shake Shack after every stuffy event I take you to. I promise to make sure I cherish you every second we spend together but to make sure I let the others do that too. Today, tomorrow, and for our forever.”

I teared up as he spoke despite the soft laughter from everyone around. I squeezed his hands and took a deep breath. “I, Elise Frances Cooper, take you Anthony Edward Stark to be my husband. I promise to be patient when you get all caught up with your work and to try not to distract you from it unless I’m only wearing a lab coat. I promise to not get all weird when you give me presents and to listen carefully when you say ‘I love you’ when you aren’t using your words. I promise to love you with all my heart, just exactly the way you deserve so you never doubt that I am here for you and I’m not ever going anywhere. Today, tomorrow, and for our forever.”

“Do you Tony, take Elise to be your wife?” The celebrant said.

“Can I say maybe?” Tony teased. “No? Too late?” I giggled and pouted playfully and he caressed my cheek with his thumb. “I do.”

“Do you promise to love, honor, cherish, and protect her until death do you part?” The celebrant asked.

“I do,” Tony repeated.

“And do you, Elise, take Tony to be your husband?”

“I do,” I replied.

“Do you promise to love, honor, cherish, and protect him until death do you part?” He asked.

“I do,” I repeated.

“Then can we have the rings?” He asked.

“Dat’s me!” Pietro shouted, getting up off the ground where he and Riley had been building a mound in the sand. He bounced over with the pillow and Tony crouched down and took it off him.

“Thanks, bumblebee,” he said, kissing his son’s forehead. He got back up and untied the rings from the cushion and handed one to me.

“These rings are forged from precious metals taken from the earth, raw and imperfect. They were shaped and molded into the perfect circle. Unbroken and never-ending. Just as the love you have for each other was rough and imperfect and was shaped and molded together to something strong and eternal. Place them on your fingers as a symbol of your love,” the celebrant said. Tony’s hand shook a little as he slipped the ring on my finger and while I slid his into place on his.

“By the powers vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss each other,” the celebrant announced.

“About time,” Tony said, pulling me flush against me and dipping me back as he kissed me deeply. Around us, the others kissed too, and our small gathering of friends and family all cheered.

When he let me back to my feet, he held my hand tight and the celebrant held up his hands. “I now present to you, not just the happy couple, but the full polyamorous family!”

The guitarist started to play an acoustic version of ‘Back in Black’ and we made our way back down the aisle in pairs, a legal binding now part of our family bond.

// NEXT

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leggomylino · 4 years ago

Text

Stray Kids Playing Animal Crossing: New Horizons

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A/n: M.List linked down below! | My very first reaction!!! :D I hope you all enjoy <3

Tag List: @distrikt9 @hanniiesuckle17 @smolboiseavey (Let me know if you’d like to be added!)

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✧ Bang Chan ⇢ STAY Island ✧

Passport Title ⇢ Crisp Ringleader

Okay family

As our ENFJ king Chan would totally have a island that revolved around the others

Sure he’d have his own space too

But he’d def be one to put up lots of fun camping space and interactive inventions

A cute little barbecue grill on the beach with a wooden table and log benches 🥺🥺 and a picnic area too

I feel like he’d also go out of his way to breed black roses but that may just be me 😂🤷🏻‍♀️

Black and white flowers everywhere, and maybe some red roses too?

He’d also be a generous donator and frequently visit the others to see if anyone needed help with anything

Just stopping by to check in and drop off some hardwood, or iron, maybe even gold

...That’s a big maybe on the gold cause we all know that stuff ain’t common and if you want Marshal on your island you better have some handy

In addition to this, I think that the generosity would only go so far and he’d be quite the tease too

Running around left and right ratting the others out during pranks and “borrowing” things from the others

“where’d my recipe for gold armor go???”

🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️ “idk bro I think I saw Minho running off with it?”

For villagers, he’d have a plethora of the animal kingdom on his island

Anyone is welcome

You get what you get and you don’t throw a fit 🥴

He’d def have mentions of Stay on his island too

And the guys, his squad

A Stay flag and Stray Kids written in the sand somewhere

Maybe vice versa

His character would likely be of similar resemblance but I can totally see him playing with the fun hair colors and face paint

His wardrobe would consist of similar attire too: black, white, caps, hoodies, and chains

Y’all AC fans know that one punk outfit with the chains across the bodice? He’d own that

His home is a toss up: on one hand it could be very chill and cozy, but on another I’m seeing workout gear in one corner and iron tables and a TV and radio going, maybe (definitely) a music studio setup (similar to Weber’s home but more hardcore LMAO)

All in all, I think Chan would be a chill/causal player that would be happy to help his friends and community while also playing hard ball once in a while just to mess with everyone 😂♥️

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✧ Lee Minho ⇢ Soodori Island ✧

Passport Title ⇢ Total Genius

Soodori is a combination of Minho’s cats

Your boy Minho couldn’t resist the ingenious idea

He’d pondered for the longest time which of his precious babies was going to be awarded the title of his island; an impossible decision

Then along comes our creative leader, “why don’t you just use all three?”

‼️‼️‼️

Genius!1!1!!1!1 😩✨

On Soodori, you bet all the villagers are cats; if you don’t have pointy ears and a swishing tail, Access Denied 🙅🏻‍♀️

This means you, Han

Villagers included would consist of Raymond, who may or may not be an island celebrity

And let’s not forget Queen Ankha

But to Minho, all his cat citizens are equally loved and cherished as a valid part of the community

His whole aesthetic would be cats too

That includes a cat cafe

His flag would probably be a paw print 🐾 or his cat’s names, maybe a cute scribbling of their faces

And if you disrespected that, there’d be blood to pay

I can see his character closely resembling him as well, with a little paw print on his cheek? Maybe some whiskers?

He’d thoroughly enjoy visiting the others islands “if he absolutely had to”

Swipe some goods

And bundle them up to go on the plane out ✈️

For the most part, I see him being more of a hermit on his island that only heads out On Demand

Even then, it’s kind of a toss up: good luck getting him to leave his children behind

If you’re nice to him, he MIGHT let you come and view the splendor...m a y b e

But you better not touch or take anything 🗿🔥

Shoot, when it came to special visitors, like Redd or K.K., he’d probably try chasing them off

Put those tools to use

There’s more than one way to skin a cat

(Don’t tell him I said that tho 👀💧)

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✧ Seo Changbin ⇢ DARK Island ✧

Passport Title ⇢ Music-Loving Loner

Dark, dark, dark

We all done knew, didn’t we?

Changbin is the KING of darkness

So it goes without saying that his whole island would radiate the stuff, too

It may seem depressing and a little emo at first, but eventually the concept comes off being pretty cool

...In an angsty, Evanescence sort of way

He’d probably be very lost on how to play at first...at first

He’s got Felix and Chan to help him tho, so he’d be breeding black flowers before you know it

Maybe a little gray and navy blue tones to break up the solidarity somewhere

I’m seeing a kind of night sky aesthetic, maybe some astrology furniture???

Look out, Celeste

She’s gonna be running to Big Brother Blathers saying some scary short guy is following her around the woods

Poor Binnie just wants a Starry Sky wall...until he sees how bright it actually is

Then it’s 💯 a fat pass

Binnie would kindly welcome all sorts of villagers while being minorly selective

After all, we can’t break the darkness with some cheery-idol-wannabe villager, or some Judy the anime bear

I can say with utmost certainty at 95% that his whole wardrobe would be black caps and hoodies

Maybe a plain black tee

Some black pants

And

White or black sneakers 🥴✨

I think he would be pretty intent on building up his island...in particular, collecting all the artifacts and critters for the museum

He’d work hard but not go crazy or stress about it and still take lots of time to just chill in his deep dark vibes

Maybe get out once in a while to visit Felix and learn a thing or two

Overall, we see through your front, Bin; you may have a dark vibe but you’re really just a small big softie ☺️

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✧ Hwang Hyunjin ⇢ Kkami Island ✧

Passport Title ⇢ Soothing Season

Welcome to Kkami Island, which was almost named something else aesthetically cute like Honeycomb or Applepuff

However, like Minho, Hyun simply couldn’t resist a chance to use his precious baby’s name

On Kkami, life is pretty chill: EXCEPT WHEN ITS SERIOUS 🔥

That’s right folks

This boy may have some vibing days and go at his own pace

But don’t be fooled: he plays to win

Plant those money trees

Enter those QR codes

Carve out those pathways

Where is Blathers we have a donation 😤😤

Hyunjin would be a steady-paced worker bee 🐝

He’d likely be selective of his villagers and go for cute ones

Possibly top to secondary tier

When it came to games and get togethers, you’d likely find him chasing another member with a net or an axe, in most cases Jisung

“qUiT LEaViNG TrASh oN mY iSLaNd!!1!1!1!” 💢

“DROP THAT DIY!1!1!1!!1”

Let’s see

His whole island aesthetic would be cute and peaceful:

Plants, terrariums, soft sunlight...

There’d be so many flowers!!! Hyunjin would have a whole colorful flower field 🥰🌸

White and wooden furniture in and around the home

An adorable tea and snack time plaza too! And a library!!! 📖✨

Very cozy and sweet ♥️

Though, shoot, if he had the energy, this guy may just build himself a palace... 🏰

Regardless, just look for the boy with the staple headband and likely some face paint to boot

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✧ Han Jisung ⇢ Swag HOT Island ✧

Passport Title ⇢ Trendy Supreme Being

(Edit: Minho convinced Felix to hack his account and changed this to Untossable Trash)

Ohhh boy

I bet y’all were waiting patiently for this one

Or maybe you jumped right to it

Either way here we go:

Han Jisung would be the king of the trash heap

And by that I mean this guy would save up all his bells and buy himself a crown 👑 where he’d sit atop a throne of garbage

BECAUSE THERE WOULD BE TRASH EVERYWHERE SIS 😩😩

This guy would be yeeting furniture and garbage all over the place

...Okay maybe that was a bit overdramatic

Maybe not EVERYWHERE...

......

...It’d be pretty messy tho

He’d probs have traps set up too

You step off the plane and get catapulted into the ocean, if that were a thing

You’d have to navigate and hop around discarded junk for sure

He’d have clothes here, a fan there, a...urinal...on the beach???

.........o k a y ._.💧

Han Jisung wouldn’t be all that competitive when it came to gathering every fruit or collecting all the fish

He doesn’t have the patience for that

He needs to run around and be free, letting his mind wander while wrecking havoc for everyone else; which is also Minnie’s job but we’ll get to that later

For villagers, he’d have at least one squirrel or two (Marshal?! :D) but I’m not so sure it’d really matter...all that much?

I’m not sure he’d even want many villagers at all

He’d be spending most of his time crashing other member’s islands and leaving little surprises like a useless DIY they already have or a fake painting he got roped into buying bc he was too lazy to check if it was genuine =_=

Everyone got sick of it pretty quickly but no one like Minho or Hyunjin; he’s permanently banned from those two locations and Jeongin’s considering adding him to the list next

Despite there being so much junk, his house would have an almost decent vibe: lots of instruments and fun gear, along with some random clothes, a lava lamp, and...another urinal 🗿💧

Seriously, someone get this boy a closet and some coaching in organization

Chan and Changbin are working on hiring Minnie but it’s not going too well; for one he charges too much

Maybe you can talk some sense into him...

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✧ Lee Felix ⇢ YEET Island ✧

Passport Title ⇢ Festive Chum

Okay y’all

Felix

Would be

THE KING

OF ANIMAL CROSSING

THIS BOY WOULD HAVE

ALL THE FRUITS!!! 🍎🍐🍊🍒🍑🥥

ALL THE FLOWERS!!!🌷🌹🌺🌸🌼🌻

I MEAN EVERY COLOR OF EVERY COMBINATION

A COMPLETED MUSEUM 🖼 🐜 🐠

I MEAN BEFORE ART WAS ADDED, HE HAD EVERYTHING RARING TO GO

NINTENDO WAS LIKE “wtf?!”

YEAH SIS, HE’S THAT GOOD

Boy would have a five star island all sorted into perfectly measured categories

An amusement park, a picnic area, a freaking ranch probably 🐮

Some awesome neighborhood for his tier one villagers with a YMCA down the street

A fancy one at that

I mean this boy would have it all

Expect a competitive softie that really just wants to have fun but like

He’s gonna win too lmao

He’s got his Nook Miles program all maxed out

When playing with the others, he comes up with really creative solutions when faced with a crisis

That’s because this smart cookie knows the ins and outs of the game

There was one time where he fenced Jisung in like the creepy Easter bunny and left him for ded oop

That was a bad day for Jisung and a hilarious day for everyone else

He felt bad about it but he also wanted that Subway gift card 🤷🏻‍♀️

Each day is a new hair color for Felix

Sometimes every few days or a week

He sometimes likes to synchronize it with his current hair color but

Experimenting is also fun

Face paint too! 🌈 He chooses a warpaint print he found on Pinterest, for days when the gang gets together for a game of tag or bug catching contests

Even if he doesn’t win, Felix always makes it into the Top 3

And he has a lot of fun doing so! 😊

He’s just one heck of a gamer is all

And his whole aesthetic shines brighter than the sun T-T ☀️

♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫

✧ Kim Seungmin ⇢ Seungmin’s Island ✧

Passport Title ⇢ Radiant Boy

Like Felix, Seungmin would be an ace at AC

He wouldn’t get everything right off the bat

But he’d put in a logical tried-and-true effort, and once he got the ropes and found his groove, my oh my

This boy would have it all

Sophistication ✨

Class ✨✨

Flair ✨✨✨

He’s got a plethora of fruit and stylish attire too

And his aesthetic is so simple but chic

He’s got this whole clean and polished vibe

Lots of artwork and creativity

He’s even got traps that look like fancy furniture

Those are mainly for Han Jisung tho

That oughta teach him to quit nosing around and taking his DIYs <_<

One time he tried stealing a few apples for Swag HOT Island

Didn’t go well sis...

He made it to just outside the pier before getting lost in the hedge maze by Cafe Seungmin

After that Seungmin closed him into a corner as punishment and wouldn’t let him out until he dropped the Apple

But Jisung was feeling pretty prideful that day so he ate it instead 🗿💧

Anyway

This guy would def make a character that looks just like him!

Would he try new hair colors and face paint? ...Maybe

It seems like a sorta-Seungmin thing to do

Seungmin would wanna be the best of the best while still staying true to himself, so you’ll likely see tier one and two villagers that he particularly fancies

Fancy you, fancy me 🥳✨💃🏻🎶

He’d also be one to go around admiring the chaos from the background while occasionally becoming the chaos

Kinda like the Cheshire Cat 😅

When challenging the others to an art contest (who could buy the most expensive artifact from Redd without using the internet) he switched some of the other members paintings while they were distracted by a meteor shower

“Look, a shooting star! And another one!”

“Make a wish.”

“How do I do that?!”

“Tilt your camera towards the sky and press A.”

“I’ve got my camera app open and it’s just taking photos???”

“Not you CAMERA camera—“

“Hey! Chan hyung, Minho just stole my star!!!”

“I didn’t see your NAME on it...”

“Don’t fight, you can each have half!”

“That’s not how it works at all...”

...Anyway

It was pretty comical until Changbin had to say something, about the art that is

Then Minnie had to bounce before the angry shovels and nets caught up to him

“Hey!!! Why is my painting on Minho’s side???”

“Why is everyone attacking me???”

“Oh, Hyunjin has my painting...”

“I do not! ...Oh hey I do? Why’d you put it over here?”

“I DIDN’T!”

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

...

🛫 🏃🏻‍♀️💨

Poor Minnie just wanted to have some fun amongst the confusion 😔

But

When it gets right down to it, you better believe this boy would be an aesthetic and skillful player ✨

♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫

✧ Yang Jeongin ⇢ Go Away Island ✧

Passport Title ⇢ Mistakingly Caught Son

Go Away Island means just what the title intends: go away :)

Initially, Jeongin was prepared for what he senior members would do

He knew there would be much anticipation to visit the 막내’s island and drive him crazy

Sometimes, he doesn’t mind it

But others he just wants to be left alone and do his own thing

When he started the game, it was one of those days

So he wanted to make the message clear 😤😤

Also, Don’t Bother Me seemed to be too long 🤷🏻‍♀️

Go Away was straight to the point ;D

Anyhoo

On Go Away, you’ll encounter lots of cute characters 💓

Innie has a very cute and true-to-himself aesthetic

He doesn’t understand much of the mechanics but he’s working on it okay?

And he’s getting better every day!

Okay, so like, sometimes he’ll allow Chan to come over and help

Or Felix or maybe Seungmin if he promises to be genuine and behave

But like

The rest of the members are semi-banned

Hyunjin gets a pass if he whines enough

Or he’ll come up with a crafty excuse to come over

“Innie, look! I got peaches on my island! Don’t you want one? They’re cute like you! 😩❣️”

...He could do without that last embarrassing remark but okay sure

He really did want those peaches for his picnic garden 😔✊🏻

In terms of hair color? We’re on a rotation like Felix

We’re trying lots of hair colors

And a few aesthetic designs, too!

Jeongin is very resourceful when it comes to QR codes, something Felix and Seungmin taught him

He uses them to set flowers and stones pathways everywhere

And an especially prominent one leading to the door 👉🏻🚪

♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫

↬ Which island will you be visiting? 🌴✨

♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫

ღ Stray Kids M.List | M.List ღ

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minecraftfan11onscratch · 4 years ago

Text

Connie Howlite Maheswaran AU - The Return

Summary: A giant hand just appeared right above Beach City, slowly descending. Unknownst to the Comet Gems, Connie convinced her father Doug to let her help them, as only she has the weapon that can protect them from any upcoming threat. Unknownst to all of them, they’ll have new troubles to worry about.

Word count: 1,548

---

Connie and Eagle quickly jumped out of a portal made by the latter’s sonic screech. They were close to the Comet Temple, and everything, at least on that part of Beach City, was covered in an ill green light. This has to be the Hand Ship’s fault, Connie thought after noticing that said Ship, which has been descending onto the city ever since afternoon, seemed like it was much closer to the ground than before.

Not only that, but it seemed like, even after Howlite’s canon’s failure to take it down, the Comet Gems were still determined to stop it before it could even come down. Rubellite was there, and so was her two-sided mace, held by her lower pair of hands. “Fire!” Spessartite commanded.

Rubellite immediately proceeded to generate pink-and-white balls of energy, and bash them with her mace’s sides so they could clash full-force at the Hand Ship. It was like a more intense, four-armed baseball swing being performed multiple times. And yet... The ship didn’t even seem a tad bit fazed with the fusion’s offense, much to Rubellite and Spessartite’s horror.

“Stay here,” Connie said, with focus and determination, towards Eagle. “Hopefully, dad won’t need a new daughter.” She continued before rushing up ahead.

While hopelessly watching the Ship increase its speed, Spessartite remarked, with a little shard of hope, “At least Connie’s not here.”

“Except I am!” Connie pointed out, making her presence clear.

“Connie?” Spessartite gasped in shock. Rubellite didn’t even have a chance to utter a word. As soon as she spotted Connie, she violently split herself apart, back onto Pink Pearl and Jasper, who fell face-first onto the sand.

“You really returned!” Jasper exclaimed in a tone that wasn’t clear if she was shocked or overjoyed.

“Kid, get outta here right now!” Pink Pearl demanded desperately as she got up, but before Connie could fully protest, Spessartite spoke, “Connie, get behind any of us!”

Connie reluctantly obeyed, going right behind Spessartite herself, but kept a head out to observe as the Hand Ship descended, creating a heavy sand cloud around the Comet Gems. The Hand made an “offering” motion, and a bubble popped out of the Hand Ship’s palm. It rolled before opening, revealing three figures.

Two of them were familiar; Aquamarine, the small Gem trapped in a crystal ball that Connie befriended; and Nephrite, the Homeworld Gem that was sending Robonoids to spy on Earth’s activity. The new one, however, was strange.

She was very mildly similar to Jasper, only much smaller. Around Connie’s height, in fact. She had a long mane of hair, a purple gem with a hexagonal cut on the chest, diamonds on her knees, and a cape on her shoulders.

“Here, these are the ones who… K-Keep breaking the stuff I make…” Nephrite nervously explained as she and the other two Gems walked forward.

“Really? That’s them?” Amethyst said, not that impressed; her voice was slow and casual-sounding.

“Yes, they are, Amethyst! T-they’re messing up everything!” Nephrite explained, trying and somewhat failing to sound a bit more assertive.

Amethyst sighed and stepped forward. Her face had a scowl not too unlike a school bully, bored enough to seek a new victim to terrify, but being unable to find one that interested them. “Oh boy… another stupid thing to deal with. Hey, c’mere!”

The purple gem pulled out Aquamarine from behind her grasp, through her hand, but the small gem quickly escaped her grasp. The small blue gem gasped once she realized her half-human friend was actually there.

“Aquamarine...” Connie whispered in surprise.

“Is this, like, their secret hideout?” Amethyst asked, pointing at the Comet Temple.

“Yes...” Aquamarine replied, with a mixture of reluctance, misery, and disdain for the situation she found herself in.

“You all must leave right now!” Spessartite demanded, tightly holding her scythe.

“Yeah! Better scram now, punks!” Jasper joined in, already preparing her crash helmet.

“This ain’t a planet run by Gems!” Pink Pearl exclaimed, her toy-like hammer in her hands.

Amethyst and Nephrite hopped out of the finger they were landing on. Aquamarine was forced to follow, being held on by an entire arm of the purple gem.

“Seriously? Howlite’s not here?” Amethyst said, after doing a quick scan of the opposing gems. “Man, I was hoping to meet her in person! I was sure I could beat her down.”

Connie growled a little after listening to the purple Gem talk about her mother. She’d try to contain it to not get their attention, though.

“But those are her most loyal soldiers?” Amethyst mocked. “A shameless display and an ownerless Pearl? Only the soldier’s prolly worth something! Wait... The heck is that?”

The Comet Gems immediately straightened into fighting positions, ready to fight till’ poofing for their beloved girl.

“I-It’s a Connie... A-At least, they call themselves that.” Nephrite explained.

“She’s not one of them at all! Just a normal human!” Aquamarine lied, in hopes of protecting the only one among the Comet Gems that was her friend.

Amethyst just looked at the little blue gem with an unamused expression before turning back and walking away. “Eh, too easy for me to care about. Just zap them out.”

“O-Okay!” Nephrite said before, reluctantly, commanding the Hand Ship to stand up and prepare a laser beam directed at the Comet Gems.

“Connie, run and save yourself!” Spessartite begged.

“Never!” Connie defied Spessartite’s plea valiantly.

“I can’t let you sacrifice yourself!”

“But you guys are my home, and my family! I can’t leave you behind...”

Connie’s slightly big forehead Gem shone brightly in white, as the tip of her staff poked out of it and the half-Gem girl pulled the rest of it out.

“G-Go.” Nephrite quietly said as the Hand Ship finally fired its beam out of its pointer finger.

“Because, I am too a COMET GEM!” Connie roared bravely as she ran towards the beam and hopped towards it, pointing her staff towards it.

...

Amethyst turned around in genuine shock after witnessing it.

A big wall, crafted with hard light in white color, protecting the Comet Gems. The one responsible for it was apparently the “normal” human Connie, sweating as held onto the staff to keep the barrier up.

“It can’t be... That staff is real!” Amethyst gasped.

Connie collapsed, drained mentally and physically as she allowed the barrier to collapse and the staff to fade away.

“That kid has Howlite’s power!” Amethyst finally realized.

“N-Now you see w-why they sent an escort, right?” Nephrite said, in a friendly but insecure tone.

“Swipe them off of her!” Amethyst commanded.

Nephrite was quick to obey, creating a linear projection beam that separated Jasper, Pink Pearl, and Spessartite from Connie. The explosion lifted a heavy cloud of sand that Connie struggled to even wipe her eyes clean from.

“Why you look like that, Howlite? I thought you looked better.” Amethyst said; at surface level, it seemed like mockery, but deep down there was some curosity as of why she didn’t see the tall, imposing, long-haired Howlite of the legends.

“Don’t touch her!” Aquamarine furiously demanded.

“Ya set me up!” Amethyst accused.

“But that wasn’t even part of the mission!”

“Screw that stupid mission!”

“W-WHAT?” Nephrite gasped in shock.

“Blue and Pink have to know about this one.” Amethyst added out with a sharp, cat-like grin.

Connie tried to summon up the strength to defy or even question those Gems, but she could only moan in confusion, while sitting down defenselessly. Then, Spessartite rose up from the sand, scythe ready to rip apart anyone that dared hurt Howlite’s daughter.

“Now the party starts!” Amethyst announced while summoning her weapon; a whip of three strings with diamonds emblazoned on its tips.

Spessartite tried to go in for a clean slash, but Amethyst tripped her and summoned a second whip to throw Spessartite and Connie away in a single blow. The half-Gem got up in time to see a particularly nasty of events.

“CONNIE, RUN!” Spessartite pleaded one last time right after a quick recover before rushing towards Amethyst.

“Gem Destabilizer time!” Amethyst cheekily announced while holding a strange device with yellow shockwaves.

She quickly stabbed Spessartite in the chest with the destabilizer, almost impaling her. Yellow lines ran over her body as, limb by limb, it collapsed. Jasper and Pink Pearl gasped in horror, while Connie could only helplessly watch as the de-facto leader of the Comet Gems looked at her with her three eyes, before poofing and leaving two gems behind. One orange, one red.

After packing the Gem Destabilizer back as if she just swatted an annoying fly, Amethyst approached the weakened, but traumatized and furious Connie. “I wasn’t there to fight for this trash planet, but I heard lots of stuff about you. How you are smart, a strategy devil... But this is just stupid!” She said, before wrapping her up on one of her whips, ignoring her last valiant struggle.

“Let her go!” Pink Pearl demanded as she and Jasper ran to try and pulverize Amethyst before anything could happen to Connie.

“Don’t think ya can do anything now, Howlie! Your friends are scrambled, your base is dust, so admit it! You lost!” Amethyst announced, right as the situation’s stress plus Connie’s drained mental and physical energy purged her into unconsciousness.

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zestycompress · 4 years ago

Text

Ultimate Duo! CH. 2

Forgot to post it here.. oops

anyway chapter three is gonna come out.. probably today or tomorrow. i’m on a roadtrip with my family so i probably have more time to write now

AO3 Link

The car malfunctioned, giving the Japanese tourist some time to catch up with Giorno. Coincidence? Probably. Looks like he needs to get a new car. At least he was able to use Gold Experience and turn his luggage into a frog, he didn’t want to leave empty-handed. Too bad he lost money to the security by paying them to keep quiet. Of course, he could always get it back by pickpocketing some unlucky people.

The blond teen turned around to see a man dragging a shovel. One of his eyes was watery, and at that moment, he knew who that was.

“You’re Giorno Giovanna, right?”

So he knows his name.

Giorno nodded. The man turned around, gesturing to a bench with his head and walked towards it. “We haven’t met before, have we? Giorno, you have any clue who I am?”

“Leaky-Eye Luca. You were in a dispute a while back and when it turned ugly, you took a knife to the face but kept fighting and swinging despite your wound,” He replied. “The complications from that little scrap left you with a perpetually leaking eye, hence your moniker.”

Luca sat down while Giorno stood in front of him. “Here, take a load off and make yourself comfortable.”

The half-Japanese teen stared in silence.

“What’s the holdup? Pop a squat. Looking up at you is hurting my eyes.” He said, Giorno moved over and sat next to him.

“So, how old are you?”

“Fifteen and change.”

“What, really?! Haha! You’re a baby,” Luca grinned and laughed, but his face quickly changed. “Here’s the thing, Giorno, any true friendship has to be built on the firm foundation of the three T’s. You’ve heard of them, haven’t you?” He wiped his eye as he spoke while Giorno stared ahead. “In case you’re drawing a blank, the first one is truth, the second one is tolerance, last but not least you have the third T, tribute, and voila the three T’s of true friendship.”

Giorno turned his head to the older man and asked, “Was there something you needed?”

Luca quickly grabbed his shovel and pushed it right against the teenager’s cheek. “I wasn’t finished showing you the ropes so shut your face hole! Nobody said you could ask questions, as for what I needed, I hear you started a hustle at the airport, huh? Surely you can see how this would be confusing, after all, I don’t remember receiving any tribute from you-” Giorno could really use a distraction right about now. “-and without tribute, how could we remain true friends? Now hand over your wallet.”

“Signore, you’ve got it wrong. I’ve already paid your tribute. I don’t have any money,” Giorno said, only making Luca angrier.

“You talking about that guard?! You have to be a special kind of stupid to think I’m working with that old- huh?” He stared at the bizarre image in Giorno’s wallet of the one and only Dio Brando, but he didn’t know that.. “What the hell is this, a family photo?” He brushed it off and continued to shout. “I know you’re holding out on me, so fork over the cash right now blondie!”

“Signore Luca, I really hate having to repeat myself and as I’ve already said, I don’t owe you anything.”

“Huh?”

“Now please don’t make me say it a third time-”

Luca swung his shovel at Giorno, almost hitting him. A frog - the one that used to be that certain Japanese tourist’s luggage - appeared and was next to his foot. It then hopped onto his leg.

“Time out, kid. What the hell is that?” It’s… a frog… isn’t it obvious?

It continued to hop upwards on Giorno. “So he came back…”

“Flick it off!” The man shouted.

“No, the frog has nothing to do with this. Please don’t ask me to do that.” He responded.

Luca raised his shovel and pointed at the innocent creature. “That wasn’t a freakin’ suggestion, amico, and you still haven’t paid the taxes you owe! Are you seriously going to refuse both of my orders?! You’ve got some brass balls, kid! (more like steel balls haha am i right sbr fans) No one says no to Leaky-Eye Luca twice!”

“This frog is a living creature with the will of his own,” Uh, yeah, we know that. “He thinks and acts for himself. Let’s go our separate ways.” Giorno really wanted to go back to his place, even if that meant sitting in awkward silence with Kars. This guy was holding him up.

Luca swung his shovel at the frog despite Giorno’s warnings. The small green creature slipped out from underneath the tool. Unfortunately for Leaky-Eye Luca, he was dead, all because he tried hitting a frog. Should’ve listened, now the back of his head was caved in. The frog transformed back into luggage and Giorno walked away.

~~~

Kars tried on the clothes Giorno bought for them. To be honest, they weren’t that bad. Obviously, they could be better, the white collared shirt was too plain for Kars. He pulled out some other clothes that could be fitting. He examined a thin turtleneck sweater which was a wine purple color, similar to his hair color.

Good enough.

He already completed reading every book Giorno owned and he wasn’t planning on rereading them. Kars practically memorized every word written on the pages. Staying inside Giorno’s room isn’t something he’s going to do. If the blond teen returns before he does, he better be prepared for waking up in the middle of the night to see Kars entering his room by compressing his body to go underneath the door.

Obviously, it’s not going to be a pleasant sight, especially when you’re only half-awake.

As he walked through the streets of Italy, he received many stares from random humans. Kars either saw admiration or envy in their eyes and sometimes fear, he couldn’t blame them. After all, he was the perfect being. And he was pretty tall too, he towered over everyone else. Not only that, but the Pillar Man was also pretty intimidating, not that much of a surprise.

People scurried out of his way with their head down to avoid eye contact with Kars. If they looked up at him, he would send a cold glare and force them to quickly turn away. But not everybody was scared off. A few people politely waved and smiled, maybe even wink at Kars. Some humans were bold enough to ask him to dinner. Of course, he harshly declined their offer. It wasn’t the first time a human requested to have a meal with him. Kars is fully aware of how attractive he is compared to others.

Soon, the Pillar Man found himself near a beach, it was mostly empty. There was just one single person standing on the dock holding a fishing rod. Kars would’ve ignored them and continued walking, but a part of him wanted to go towards the person. He tried convincing himself that he only wanted to go near them because of their bizarre lime-green hair. Honestly, he wasn’t a big fan of it.

When Kars got closer, he felt the same kind of energy as Giorno’s Stand, Gold Experience. It caught him a bit off guard. This person had their Stand out… while they were fishing? Now he was confused, why would he need a Stand to fish? Did it help? Kars needed answers.

“You.”

The person shrieked loudly, dropping their fishing rod, turning around with a fearful expression and wide eyes.

“You’re a coward, aren’t you?” Kars sighed. “I can tell just by looking at you. Now, tell me your name.”

The person stumbled over their words a few times before blurting out “Pesci!”

By their appearance and the sound of their voice, Kars concluded that this human was indeed male. He stared at him for a while before asking another question. “Where’s your Stand?”

Pesci panicked, looking around to see if Prosciutto was nearby. He just left to go smoke, knowing full well that Pesci hates the smell. He probably needed to go buy more cigarettes and was now coming back.

...The blond man was nowhere to be seen.

“Hey! Answer me!”

“I-I, um, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” The only option he had was to play dumb. It wasn’t working.

“What kind of fool do you take me for? I can feel its energy, tell me, what are you using your Stand for?”

Pesci couldn’t take it, the man was just too intimidating! Hopefully, he’s not from another gang, a rival one to be exact, the whole team would get angry at him for revealing information. Even if it was about his Stand, weaknesses would be exposed and he would get taken out.

“My Stand is Beach Boy, it's the fishing rod! I’m only using it to fish, don’t hurt me!” He shut his eyes and tensed up, unable to bear staring into the tall man’s eyes.

Kars blinked. The damn fishing rod was a Stand? Did Giorno seriously lie about how only Stand users could see Stands? He picked up the dark blue fishing rod and examined it. It certainly was pretty odd.

“I thought only Stand users could see Stands, was I wrong?” He hummed, poking the skull on Beach Boy.

“...Well, that is true but… only for most Stands… there are some exceptions I guess…” Pesci replied, wincing when Kars turned his head to him.

“Is that so?” A smirk appeared on his face. Looks like he learned something new.

Before Kars could ask any more questions, the sound of footsteps alerted him. A blond man with a dark-colored suit stood there, frowning. The Pillar Man returned the same look. Pesci felt relieved that Prosciutto finally came back, he was probably going to get scolded and punished but that’s better than answering any more questions about his Stand.

“Who the hell are you?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Prosciutto stepped closer, glaring into Kars’s eyes without a hint of fear. Despite the man being a foot taller than him, he wasn’t intimidated, or at least he didn’t appear to be. That’s something Pesci admired him for. The intense staring continued and Pesci started to get uncomfortable.

“Leave,” Prosciutto commanded. “Now.”

“Or what? What are you going to do?” He laughed. “You’re just a pitiful human. There’s nothing you could do that can hurt me.”

“Is that what you think?” The blond man hissed. “Fine, I’m sure The Grateful Dead will change your mind!”

Kars felt something grabbing onto his legs but didn’t look. He knew it was just his Stand, so why panic? He found amusement in Prosciutto’s bewildered expression. The Grateful Dead wasn’t working. Even though the Stand’s making contact with Kars, he isn’t aging. Was there some kind of Stand ability that canceled the effect? Prosciutto glared at his Stand as if doing that would start the aging process. Nothing happened.

“Well? I’m waiting,” Kars hummed, his smug grin grew wider which made the Italian man more frustrated.

“Impossible! You should be getting older, more weaker!” He growled, his Stand’s grip became tighter. “Pesci, do something!”

“O-Oh! Right!” He was about to summon his Stand before he foolishly realized that Kars already had it in his hand. What was he supposed to do, reach out and grab the damn thing?! The Pillar Man looked down at him, sending shivers down the young man’s spine.

...Surprisingly, he returned Beach Boy. Prosciutto eyed him suspiciously. Pesci hesitated, then quickly snatched his Stand back. He stared at Kars, trying to figure out if there was a hidden motive, but he wasn’t sure.

“Demonstrate your Stand’s abilities, I’d like to see how it works. Don’t keep me waiting, I can wait all day but I’d prefer not to.” He said.

The hook and fishing line was now inside Kars, he can feel it traveling up his arm. It was a strange sensation. However, he couldn’t see it moving. There was no outline of the hook and line in his skin. The hook found its way to Kars’s heart, but Pesci became hesitant. Was this all a trap? He glanced at Prosciutto, the man was silently encouraging him to use Beach Boy. Something was off about Kars. Instead of finishing off the two Stand users, he instead waited for their Stands to do something. Waiting for your foe to display their abilities can help with figuring out their weakness, but it can also put yourself in danger. Kars did not seem to care about that, he just seemed curious about their Stands. Prosciutto kept his guard up, you can never be too careful.

Pesci used Beach Boy’s hook to tear apart the beating heart, but again, Kars seemed to be unaffected.

...Or perhaps it just didn’t work.

There was simply no way to kill Kars. The sun was no longer his enemy, Stands were useless, even lava couldn’t do it. He was the perfect, undefeatable being.

Kars felt the hook desperately tugging on his heart as Pesci became more visibly anxious. Prosciutto was also getting quite upset. The Pillar Man has never been so entertained before. Chuckling, he walked away from the duo.

“That’s enough, I supposed. Pesci, your Stand has potential, you know that, right? However,” He glanced at Prosciutto with a bit of a frown. “What’s the point of yours? It doesn’t seem like it can do anything interesting.”

As he left, Prosciutto muttered curses and insults, not knowing that Kars could hear what he said. Pesci thought the compliment was rather nice, even though the man was strange.

If only he knew his name.

~~~

He ran into that Japanese tourist again, this time he found out he was no ordinary being. And he didn’t have to get a new car after all! Well, maybe someone took it after he ran away. But that didn’t matter, the tourist was a Stand user. He was the reason his car came to a stop. Luckily, Giorno got away again. The stranger didn’t seem so bad though. He had a good soul and Giorno felt a bit of pity for robbing him.

He opened up the window in the funicular and stared at the passing buildings. Before he could think about what he’ll do next, he heard a coin drop. A man wearing a white suit with oddly shaped black dots appeared and picked it up.

“This yours?” He asked Giorno.

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mldrgrl · 5 years ago

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Last First Kiss

by: mldrgrl Rating: PG-13 Summary: This is for all the Ed Jerse Anons sitting in my inbox who all want a variation on the theme of Scully not being satisfied that Ed would be the last man she was with.

The appointments were on the calendar for the third Thursday on the month for six months, not a secret, but they were simply marked “Scully - doctor,” like they were run of the mill check-ups and not aggressive chemotherapy. Every third Friday was marked “Scully - out of office.”

Mulder did his best not to be too solicitous, wished her well when she packed up her things before lunch, made lame jokes about how much he’d get done without her ripping apart his theories for a day. He didn’t know how she spent her weekends after those appointments, she could be intensely private about certain aspects of herself, her health being one of them, but it was obvious from the paleness of her cheeks, the shadows under her eyes, and the constant tremor her body seemed to have come Monday, that she suffered.

He wished she wouldn’t push herself so hard, but then again, she was a fighter. He had to admit he was a bit in awe of her determination not to let such a grim diagnosis stop her from doing anything. It had certainly stopped him. Though she didn’t know it, his free time was mostly devoted to finding answers. He didn’t care who he had to go through to find the men who gave her this disease. If they knew how to give it to her, they knew how to take it back.

As the months went by though, the nosebleeds only got worse and at a certain point, she’d even stopped demanding that he not look at her when she did her best to clean herself up or given him dirty, ungrateful glares when he brought out the packet of tissues he’d started carrying around in his breast pocket and slipped them into her hand. She’d stopped locking the connecting doors of their motel rooms or trying to disguise the sound of her retching in the middle of the night by running the sink at full blast. The last two times, she’d even let him kneel beside her and dab her cheeks and the back of her neck with a cool washcloth as she limply clung to the side of the toilet.

If he wasn’t scared before, he was now. He could persevere as long as she was, but the moment she looked up at him with a tired, resigned gaze that told him he was finally allowed to see her like this because it didn’t matter anymore, he knew she had given up. And now, he was desperate for those answers.

Appointment number five loomed like a thundercloud. Mulder was tense all week and Scully was quiet. Time moved like molasses Thursday morning. He tried to focus on the expense report for their last case, but his mind kept wandering to ways he might offer his services to help her through the weekend. Even with the minutes dragging by, suddenly she was shutting her computer down and he hadn’t come up with anything better than, “if you need anything, you know you can call me.”

Scully left with a murmured “see you Monday,” and he chickened out on saying anything more than a soft goodbye. He bit his lip and as soon as he heard the elevator ding and the doors close, he choked on a quiet sob he’d been reigning in. As quickly as he let his emotions overtake him, he pulled himself back together and pounded a fist against the top of his desk. Scully was out there bravely fighting a losing battle alone and he wasn’t helping her by crying at his desk. It was time for his check-in with the Gunmen, who were following up on leads in his stead.

But, the boys had nothing for him. Nothing new, anyway. Mulder cursed. He was pretty sure his best bet was the black-lunged sonofabitch that seemed to pull all the strings from every direction and he’d been trying to lure the old man out of hiding for weeks to no avail. There had to be something he could do.

He stayed at the office well into the evening, poring over his files for some connection he might have missed. There was so much there and yet nothing at all. He was just digging deeper rabbit holes with every file. He finally went home when he felt like his vision was becoming too blurry to ready anything further, but he was back at it again before the sun even came up. Strewn across his desk and the floor was Scully’s abduction file, the files on Max Fenig, Duane Barry, the women in Allentown, the personnel file he’d poached on Alex Krycek, and others bearing the slightest hint of alien activity.

Halfway through the day, it dawned on him that maybe he should change his tactic. He wasn’t a religious man, but Scully was a religious woman, and there were examples of miraculous recoveries all over the world. He gathered up the mess he’d made and made another printing out reams of research on holy sites and unexplained recoveries from illnesses. Amongst them all, he found one that appealed. In fact, it excited him so much that he found himself grabbing he jacket and driving to Scully’s apartment with a hopeful flutter in his chest.

He doesn’t know what he was thinking though, knocking on her door that Friday evening. He hadn’t even gotten a good look at her before he was asking her if she’d ever heard about the Sanctuary of Our Lady of Lourdes. She answered his knock in a pair of snow-white flannel pajamas that were rolled up at the sleeves and ankles. Her face was almost as white as her sleepwear, aside from the hollow grey smudges under her eyes. Her eyes themselves were so thoroughly bloodshot it looked like it might be painful just to keep them open.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, taking her in. “I didn’t mean to...to…”

She blinked slowly at him, like a sleepwalker still in a dream. “Our Lady of Lourdes,” she repeated in a quiet slur. “In France.”

“Yeah. Yes, France.”

“What about it?”

“Um…”

“Sorry, I need to sit down.”

“Don’t apologize,” he answered, following her to the couch.

He glanced around. There was a blanket waterfalling off the couch, crumbled tissues scattered across the coffee table, and a basin strategically placed on the floor beside the couch, just below the spot where the impression of her head still lingered on a pillow. Scully pushed the blanket out of the way and folded herself up like a sheet of origami into the empty corner of the couch.

“I should go,” he said.

“Are you going to tell me the story of Saint Bernadette?” she mumbled.

“You know it?”

“Of course I know it, Mulder.”

“Oh.”

“You can tell it to me anyway. I like your stories.”

“You do?”

“Sit down.”

Tentatively, Mulder took a seat on the opposite end of the couch. He surreptitiously slid the basin away from his feet and picked up a closed photo album that was wedged beneath the back cushion.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Photo album.”

“Well, yeah. Are they of you?”

She nodded.

“May I?”

She nodded again. He opened the book and on the first page was a black and white mugshot of a swaddled newborn with a pinched face. Next to it was the classic, naked baby on a bearskin rug photo that every parent seemed to think was necessary. He had one of his own somewhere. He chuckled to himself.

The next pages were a hodgepodge of Scully family photos. There was a pensive looking toddler Scully on the lap of her smiling sister, both with loose red curls and matching baby blue dresses. There was all four Scully children, the boys in sailor suits, the girls in navy blue pinafore dresses standing in front of a docked ship. There was Scully blowing out eight candles on a birthday cake. There was a professional photo of Scully from the waist up in a white lace dress and a white veil, looking upwards with gloved hands clasped in prayer.

He turned to a page of school photos, all eerily similar, the progression of time marked only by the changes in Scully’s face and the length of hair, but the constant being the dark blazer and plaid skirt of a Catholic schoolgirl. She only smiled in one, which he guessed to be about third grade, the rest a study in concentrated seriousness.

And then there was a photo that made him stop and bring the album closer to his face. “Scully,” he said, squinting. “Was your mom a triplet?”

“No,” she said, with a quiet laugh. “She was the middle of three girls. All a year apart.”

“I mean, they look...identical.” And they really did. He saw three Margaret’s in a line with their arms around each other, same dark curls, same shape of the jaw and brow, same red lipstick, even.

“The one on the right is Aunt Kate, the one on the left is Mary Pat.”

“Kate. Katherine? Is that where your middle name cames from?”

“Nope. Mary Kate, Mary Margaret, Mary Pat. Only Aunt Mary Pat uses the Mary.”

“Wait, so your mom and her sisters are all named Mary?”

“Technically, sort of.”

“What was your grandmother’s name? Mary Magdalene?”

“Angela.”

“Oh.”

“Mary Angela.”

Mulder chuckled.

There were a few more pages of family photos and then they changed into pictures of places and people who he assumed were friends from high school or college. There was a photo of Scully with long wavy hair holding a sleeping baby as a priest touched its little bald head.

“Your godson?” he asked.

“Mmhm.”

He flipped a few more pages. There was photos of a cabin in the snow, of Scully in cold weather gear holding a string of fish, of a silver Volkswagen Rabbit, and a slew of photos of a beach and a lighthouse.

“Where’s this?” he asked.

“Point Loma. It was one of my favorite places as a kid.”

“And who is this?” He turned the photo on the next page towards Scully, of her pressed cheek to cheek with a fair-haired man with freckles across his nose and forehead.

“His name is Ethan.” She sat up a little reached out to touch the photo with her fingertips for a few moments and then she curled back into the corner and made a small noise in the back of her throat.

“What?”

“Ethan was the last relationship I was in.”

“Oh.”

“It didn’t last long. Three months, I think. I don’t know, it just occurred to me that...I guess I always thought I’d have more time to…”

“To what?”

“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “Nothing. Ethan will have been the last man to love me, even for a short time.”

A protest formed on Mulder’s tongue, but he held it back and looked at the picture of Scully and her ex-boyfriend again. Maybe if things had worked out with this Ethan character, they never would’ve even met. Or with that other guy, that Jack Willis guy from that case a few years ago. Maybe if it had worked out between them, she wouldn’t be here now, though he can’t imagine Scully and Jack as having ever been very good together. He really didn’t want to think about it, either.

“And Ed Jerse,” she said.

Mulder snapped to attention at the mention of that name and looked over at her. “What about Ed Jerse?”

“Ed will be my last first kiss.” She snorted softly and closed her eyes, brows knitting together slightly. He took a glance at her mouth, at the dry, cracked lips that bastard had been lucky enough to touch. It made him sad and angry.

“You do have time, Scully,” he said, emphatically.

“No, I don’t, Mulder.”

“Yes, you-”

“I don’t.” She opened her eyes and leveled her gaze at him. “Mulder, I’m dying. You know it as well as I do, you just don’t want to face the truth.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am. I’m not getting better, I’m getting worse. The tumor hasn’t changed and the chemo has just made me sick. There isn’t anything left to do. I know this is hard for you, but it’s just a matter of time. And I won’t be making a pilgrimage to France to pray to the Virgin Mary and drink from healing waters, if that was your bright idea.”

“Why not? Why not try everything we can?”

“I would rather spend the time that I have left doing the things I love. I love my job and that’s what I want to do for as long as I’m able.”

“I can’t accept that this is the end, Scully.”

“You’re going to have to.” Her eyes welled with tears, but didn’t spill over.

Mulder looked away and closed the photo album. Scully slumped against the couch and shivered. She hugged her arms across her chest and curled up even tighter. If she got any smaller, she’d disappear.

“I’m sorry,” Mulder whispered, slipping off the couch to his knees. He shuffled over to Scully’s side of the couch and put a hand on her arm, leaning close. “It’s not over until it’s over. Ethan isn’t the last man to love you, I am. Maybe you don’t think it’s the same, but I do.”

“Mulder…” She unraveled enough to put a hand on his cheek. “You don’t have to.”

“I love you.”

“I know. I...I know.”

He leaned into the palm of her hand for a moment and then reached up to cup her face with both hands. “You’re not dying,” he whispered, just before bringing his lips to hers. “There’s time,” he said, pulling back before moving in again. “Don’t give up.”

The three kisses he pressed to her mouth were soft and chaste, but they’re the most heartfelt and tender kisses he’s ever shared with anyone. He felt her tears running down between the webbing of his fingers and he brushed them away with his thumbs. She held his wrists as he placed whispersoft kisses against her closed eyes and wet cheeks.

“I’m going to do everything I can for you,” he said. “Everything.”

“I know.”

“Fight.”

She nodded. He stroked the back of her head once and kissed her temple before rising. As much as he wanted to stay, he had work to do and he needed to get to it as quickly as possible. Maybe he could get her to hold on a little longer, but in his heart he knew he was running out of time.

The End

#xf fanfic #i wrote this #msr #ANGST #cancer arc #ed jerse #maybe a little AU #maybe not #definitely after Elegy #ignoring Demons

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tarithenurse · 5 years ago

Text

On my mind, in my soul - 18

Prompt: This will be the last chapter and is based on a prompt by @liesje86: “Uhm. “Simple man” the cover with Jensen Ackles, a white sandy beach on Hawaaï or something, and two identical daggers.” Pairing: Loki x Burglar!reader. Content: Swearing as usual, angst, mention of god and bad parenting, hints of loss, nervousness, fluff, lemons, anger. All sorts of good stuff. A/N: This is the last chapter! o.O Thank you all for the lovely prompts, it won’t be the last time I’ll work like that. I hope this ending is all you guys could wish for...except the spelling etc because I just REALLY wanted to share it, so I’ve not proof read it, meh. Please, reblog etc. if you did enjoy <3

Satisfied

… Loki’s PoV …

There are moments in a child’s life when they look upon their parents and wonder “what if”. What if the parents had never met? What if they never had decided to have children? Then the kid wouldn’t be in the world or maybe they’d be an only child or…

Thinking back, Loki’s thoughts had often been related more to the question of “why”, as in “why did his parents love each other” or at the very least why the love between them was so different and apparently impossible to spill over onto the youngest prince. No, that wouldn’t be fair to say, because Frigga did love her son and she did her best to make sure he knew that. Just like she would comfort him when he was sad or guide him when he felt lost. Frigga, queen and mother, was the one person Loki could come to for support or philosophical discussions. She was the one that saw his future as something bright and blessed, and she would spin tales rivalling the best penmanship to instill a longing within the heart of the young prince for all that was to come.

Mama told me when I was young: Come sit beside me, my only son

… Reader’s PoV …

This. Is. Quality. Stretching towards the cloudless sky above you, it’s all you can do not to spontaneously start giggling at the feel of the ocean lapping over your feet and caressing your ankles. Cool on your hot skin but not too cold that a swim would be anything else than heavenly tomorrow…today’s too late because the jet only touched down an hour before earlier and now the sun is setting across the endless ocean.

For more than a year now, Loki has been escaping with you to the most wonderful places on earth (so far) between working on missions with the Avengers. It’s not a life you expected even with the Asgardian as your partner in crime. Crime. Yeah, not a whole lot of action’s been going on on that front, obviously, and still somehow…you’ve got more than enough challenges to keep your mind occupied. Heists have been replaced by rescue operations; artifacts replaced with weapons. At least the way of working is still relatively the same in terms of intel and planning.

Cool hands snake around your waist, pulling you backwards against the hard planes of muscle of a similar low temperature, making goosebumps spread across your skin.

“I should have known you’d abandon me with the unpacking in favour of this,” Loki mumbles into you hair.

You turn partially in his arms, wanting to be able to kiss him but not wanting to give up the scenery beyond the glittering sea. “Can you blame me? Look at that view!”

Leaning back from the embrace, the god’s attention isn’t on the sunset. “Breathtaking.”

Then he holds you close, preventing you from saying anything until the sun finally disappears beneath the horizon in a display of orange and purples and anything in between. Breathtaking, yes.

… Loki’s PoV …

Unpacking had, in truth, been a simple task for the god who simply had left the butler with that responsibility (with the exception of one specific piece of luggage) and as the chef was already preparing the lavish dinner, Loki had found himself pacing. Restless. Nervous.

That very same insecurity still hunts the pale man all through dinner. He dotes on [Y/N], feeds her bites from the ridiculous amount of tiny dishes that have been prepared and offers her cool wines. But Loki can barely swallow a morsel himself.

His gaze is locked on the softly coloured lips that send him a shy smile. They are small talking, and it’s a challenge to stay focused on the subject when joy sparkles in the [Y/E/C] of the perfect woman’s eyes. Nimble fingers fidget with glass or delve into the silken hair that by now has become messy from the travelling. Messy, but oh so right, bringing attention to the wildness that bubbles just below the surface of her.

That’s who she is. His wild kitten. Intelligent, fierce, approaching any challenge with a calculative silence until she succeeds and lets go of the inhibitions for a while. Morals? [Y/N] never claims to be an angel, yet she has managed to show the god a different way – the way Frigga spoke of hundreds of years ago when Loki was a child in need of comfort and hope. Life had indeed turned out slightly different than what his mother had predicted because there is no Asgard and royal life (even as nothing more than a prince) and no plans of ruling or being distinguished beyond the scope of mortal man. It is…simpler.

“Hon?” [Y/N] manages to get through the fog of thoughts.

Her furrowed brows don’t relax until he has promised that everything is fine. “I was merely thinking…of you, in fact.”

“Oh?” A coy smile dances on her mouth. “Am I in trouble?”

“When are you not?” Loki can’t help but laugh. “You could be the Goddess of Mischief. Do not feign innocence when we both know it was you that swapped out everyone’s underwear.”

[Y/N] disguises a grin behind the wineglass, and when she moves the glass from her lips a seriousness has returned. “But what were you thinking? I know it was something serious…”

Boy, don't you worry, you'll find yourself Follow your heart and nothing else

… Reader’s PoV …

You watch with both wonder and concern as the god they call Silver Tongue struggles with his words, opening and closing his mouth several times as a faint red sheen crawls into his eyes where the pupils are blown. That bad? Reaching for his hand, you’re afraid he’ll pull away, but he doesn’t. Cold and slightly damp against your palm…and trembling.

”Please, Loki…” you begin softly, stroking his knuckles with your thumb.

The cold spikes and he pulls away, breaking a piece off your heart. ”Excuse me.”

He doesn’t even stop to pick up the chair after he topples it over in his eager to get away from you. Why? A cold, his cold, has gripped your chest so hard you have to struggle to breathe. What did I do wrong?

You’ve wanted to deny the signs, but this can’t be unseen. For weeks now, he’s become increasingly withdrawn, preferring solitude or simply losing focus, and it’s been getting worse even with a short respite after he and Thor had been away to some other realm or planet or whatever. For a few days things had seemed normal, then it started all over. This is the worst yet.

Bit by bit, lessons you’ve let from your new co-workers (especially Natasha) start to surface, diluting the self-deprecation with a healthy amount of anger and determination. Trucker turd! Your own chair screeches across the marble floor. I’ll be damn if I let him make me feel crappy on a vacation like this! And with that in mind, you march off the way Loki had gone.

You find him in the bedroom, crouched by his suitcase with the back to the door.

“Okay, listen up, mister!”

Hands on your hips and a solid footing, you plant yourself a few steps behind him. Gorgeous bedroom. The thought zips through your mind unwanted and you push it aside for now, ignoring the probably gorgeous view from the huge windows and balcony beyond…and the grand bed to your left which you’d been hoping to “break in” tonight rather than scold a god. But that’s life sometimes.

“I know, [Y/N],” Loki admits quietly, the tenderness in his voice catching you by surprise, “I’ve been…absentminded and distanced lately.” His back is still toward you, but you know the sort of pain showing in his eyes anyways. “You deserve more than that, I know, because you are…you have changed my life and me for the better.”

“Darling…”

The distance isn’t even reduced by a single step before he motions for you to stop. To wait. His shoulders rise and fall before he finally straightens his back and swirls around to face you. Still on his knees. Oh… Turquoise eyes root you to the spot. Big hands holds a footlong box.

“I wish could tell you all the reasons I love you…but there’s not enough time in the universe for it.” A dextrous tongue swipes his bottom lip. “Lady [Y/N] [Y/L/N], will you allow me to be your husband?”

With those words, he flips the box open to show the contents, but the world is becoming a blur to you, spinning the room slowly. Oh. Oh no. Not…how…

“But Loki…I’ll die from you!” You can hear it yourself, how broken your voice is.

As the first tear falls and your vision clears a bit, you see the man you love put the box aside and stand. His strong arms encircle you, holding you tightly against his chest. A part of you wants to push away, to save him from the real pain later by leaving him now because after all: it had been your plan to leave him eventually, so he didn’t have to see you grow old and die.

“My dear, I know your reasoning,” he whispers in your ear, soft kissing landing on your cheeks and lips, “I would not want to miss out on even a second of your life, I’ll be by your side forever because nothing can change what I feel. Please let me…if you truly love me.”

Pulling back as much as his embrace allows, you frown at him indignantly. “I do love you!”

“Then please…” He guides you to sit on the foot end of the bed before retrieving the box once more and kneeling again. “Please let me be yours.” The dark wood is padded on the inside with golden silk, cradling two nearly identical daggers perfectly. “I know of the Midgardian customs with the rings…however I thought you would appreciate the tradition from Vanaheim where the betrothed couple each carries a twin dagger, bound by magic and echoing the heartbeat of the person that carries the twin…”

“I’d always be able to sense you…”

He nods, proffering the box. And they’re gorgeous too. Of course he’s right in thinking you’d prefer this over a ring. The handles appear to be frosted glass with smoky tendrils of Jotun-blue at the centre and a bead at the very end while the blade itself is silvered and perforated by runes.

Those spell out Loki which means the other dagger has your name on it. Lifting the Loki-blade, you recognise the quality of the craftmanship.

“That would be the one you would carry…if you choose to…” the god trails off.

Carefully, you return the weapon to its place. Then you close the lid and set the box aside before sliding onto the floor.

“I hate the idea of breaking your heart…but I hate the idea of being without you too. If one day you realize you can’t watch me grow old, then promise me we say goodbye as friends.”

“You mean…that –”

“– is a yes.”

Mouths clash cold yet passionate, the fervour growing with each stroke of tongue tips or nibble at the other’s lips and soon Loki’s pushing the straps of your dress aside gently. Every inch of skin is lavished with kisses that make goosebumps break out and you nipples harden against the lace (which is all that remains as cover). Once the soft cotton hangs from your hips, the god’s roaming hands come to rest at your waist. You know what he’s about to do, but it amazes you regardless. It always does. Lifting you to your feet as though you weigh nothing at all and standing you on the bed. Loki’s nose presses against the skin of your belly or, if he stretches a bit, the cleavage where he can inhale your scent while his hands bring the dress the rest of the way down. Probably holding it back rather than letting it fall for the simple purpose of enjoying the slow reveal of your body.

“My love.” Kisses are peppered onto your hips. “My queen.” Hands roam the back of your thighs. “My fiancée.” A long arm reaches up along your back to release the hooks on the bra. “Mine.”

You vaguely hear where the lacy clothing lands, but not really because Loki’s mouth and hands are at your breasts, the Silver Tongue of his working the kind of magic that’s reserved for you only. Moans fill the room as the god slides down your panties to allow access to a hand, fingers skimming through the folds and teasing you in just the right way by adding pressure with the hell of the hand whenever possible.

Even with your fingers entwined with Loki’s black hair, it’s hard to keep balance on the soft bed and you’re grateful by the time he lays you down and positions himself to continue the work between your legs. Languidly. Broad licks supplemented by pressure administered by a thumb to your clit to have you pussy aching and clenching helplessly around nothing. You on the verge of cumming when his lips close around the little bundle of nerves.

“Please, Loki.”

“Hmmmm?” The sound sends vibrations into you, but he detaches before it sets off a climax. “Not yet, my love.”

Fuck! It wouldn’t be smart to say that out loud. The man thrives on teasing to the point that it nearly becomes torture, so you adopt a different tactic and suggest with a purr that he be the one to be treated.

Obviously, he can’t resist to see your lips wrapped around his cock and soon, Loki’s the one to groan and beg for release either in your mouth or deep within the needing cunt. Oh, the delicious revenge is sweet. Now you’re the one to move slowly, crawling up his body and trailing kisses (and bites) along the way until your straddling him with his erection sliding between the slick folds in a manner that stimulates your clit just perfectly. Fingers digging into your thighs, he lies and watches as you succumb to an orgasm, juices dripping onto his balls and the throbbing shaft.

“Please…” he nearly whines as you start to come down.

A nod is all he needs before he’s flipped you both around and sheathed himself fully in you, setting off a new wave of ecstasy which he somehow manages to wait out, still as a statue. But you see his struggle. You see it in his eyes that are turning crimson, and you feel it on his body temperature which is dropping.

“Let me see you,” you whisper hoarsely, “the real you.”

Loki knows how attractive you find the Jotun form and happily complies with your request. Each body part enlarges – some parts more than others, thank goodness, but you still feel the swell of his cock within you, stretching your walls a bit more.

“God, yes!”

Rolling his hips, the partner in crime pulls out almost completely before thrusting back forcefully, making you scoot up the bed until you can reach and stem against on the headboard, and each stroke Loki gives is met by a tilt of your hips. Teeth find the crook of your throat, latching on hard enough that it will bruise tomorrow and softly enough for the pain not to be too much.

… Loki’s PoV …

He sees [Y/N]’s eyelashes flutter as she arches against his blue body. Heat against cold. The walls of her cunt clench and pulsate, sending tremors through her perfect shape and breaking the cry that falls from her lips. And Loki is right at the precipice with the woman, toppling over the edge and into a sea of bliss. It is all he can do to keep himself from collapsing onto [Y/N], rolling off instead to lie panting next to her.

She is still shivering, when the god regains his strength enough to focus his seiðr to care for her before finally pulling the light of his live into his arms.

“I love you,” she smiles drowsily, “all the time.” She doesn’t bother to stifle a yawn,

Her temple is hot against his lips. “I love you too. Always.”

There is no answer save for the gentle breathing.

Always.

Baby be a simple kind of man Oh, won't you do this for me, son, if you can

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samgwrites · 5 years ago

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Woodward (previously ‘Prince’)

Prologue |Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | read on ao3

Chapter 7: Make a Wish

“I think I’m twelve.”

“What?” Yellow eyes blinked at him from across their makeshift picnic area. The two boys were eating a selection of various fruits and mushrooms that Pieridae had collected earlier that day. He was careful when he went foraging for James, since they both knew that he could only eat food that grew close enough to certain streams and the few circles back to the human world. James had never really liked mushrooms much, but he was starting to get used to them.

“Yeah, cause you’re twelve now right? And you turned eleven only a little bit before I got here,”

“I’m still older,”

“Yeah, whatever, anyway, if you’re twelve now, and it’s been a few weeks at least, then that means I must be twelve too.”

“That makes sense but--”

“That’s weird though, isn’t it? Two birthdays spent sitting in this room,” Pieridae held up a hand.

“First of all, Steller, we’ve been over this, it’s not just a room,” Pieridae started, but James cut him off.

“Yes, of course your highness I forgot; a court,” James let sarcasm bleed into his words, but Pieridae ignored him.

“And second of all, you never even told me that you turned eleven! I mean, I figured but was it seriously that long ago?”

“Sorry, I was a bit too busy being sad about possibly never seeing my dad again to throw a party,” Pieridae looked chastised at the tone James took, but continued.

“I understand, but we need to celebrate. Two birthdays in one! It’ll be fun.”

“It would be, but isn’t that what we normally do? Have fun in this room?” James sighed, “And anyway, it’s not even my birthday. It probably happened days ago”

“So? Come on, how do humans celebrate birthdays?” When James didn’t respond Pieridae edged closer and poked at his face, “well?”

“I don’t know we… eat cake,”

“I know what that is!”

“And get balloons,”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“And on my tenth birthday my dad drove us out to the mountain so we could watch meteors.” Pieridae nodded along, but James looked at him sadly. “I know that stuff isn’t possible right now, Pieridae. Can we just move on? Please?”

“Sure, sure. I’ll stop bothering you,” Pieridae said, large grin plastered on his face. James didn’t believe him.

“You need to leave,” James jumped at Pieridae’s sudden exclamation.

“What?” He asked, suddenly on his feet. Had something happened? Was he in danger? Had Pieridae finally decided he didn’t want him around, and now he was being released to the shades and other fae to do with as they pleased? In his sudden panic he didn’t notice Pieridae’s eyes widening and him raising his hands to calm James down.

“No, no, sorry that came out wrong,” Pieridae laughed and James frowned, “I just mean I think you should get out of the court for a bit. Get some exercise,” James rolled his eyes.

“I get plenty of exercise, Pieridae.”

“No, I’ve decided. Royal decree from me, Prince Pieridae, that the human known as Steller is going to go on a walk somewhere that isn’t my court.”

“Oh, and of course I can’t refuse a decree from the Prince Pieridae.”

“Nope, you can’t. The guards are going to take you on a nice walk through one of my sibling’s gardens. You’ll be back before you know it, but seriously,” Pieridae’s tone lost some of its happiness, “You’ve been so down lately. And don’t take this the wrong way, I understand. Honestly it’s a miracle you don’t like, hate me.”

“It’s all the mushrooms,” James snarked, feeling slightly vulnerable. He knew he had every right to be mad at the fae prince, but honestly it seemed like so much effort to hate the only person that had tried to help him.

“Figures. But seriously, getting out of the room will do you some good,” It was at that moment that the doors across the lake swung open and revealed the stone guards. James shivered slightly at the sight of them, and Pieridae clapped his hands together.

“He’ll be over there in just a second!” He called across the water before turning once more to James and whispering, “I already talked to them, but if they even look at you wrong let me know. They won’t get away with it,” James rolled his eyes slightly at Pieridae’s threat, but was inwardly grateful. He hadn’t interacted with the guards in a year, but they were still creepy.

“Do I have to?” He asked, letting a hint of humor slip into his voice.

“Steller, you don’t have to do anything. You should do this, though,” After a long-suffering sigh, James relented.

“Fine, see you in a bit,” He stood up and stretched, heading towards the stepping stones, “If they break me it’s on you,” He called back, chuckling when Pieridae shouted in response.

“Don’t joke about that!” James stepped onto the beach and looked up at the stone guards.

“Hello,” He started, polite as always, “I was told that you’re going to take me to a garden?”

“The human known as Steller will go on a walk through Aeran’s Garden.”

“Who’s Aeran?” James didn’t get a verbal response, and the guards’ faces didn’t even twitch, but James got the distinct impression that they were frowning at him. The guards started to leave, and James followed.

James didn’t know what he was looking at. When he heard the word garden, he remembered the vegetables that grew behind his house, and the flowers in neat little rows that his father obsessed over. This was not that.

After walking through the halls, they arrived at a door similar to Pieridae’s, but much smaller. One of the guards knocked, then pushed the door open, before the other took James by the arm and, as gently one can, pulled him forward and pushed him through the door.

“We will wait out here. Aeran has been made aware of your presence, and has agreed to let you wander,” One of them said, and suddenly James was facing a closed door, alone. Turning around revealed the garden.

It was overgrown. There was a clear cut path, but tall grasses and weeds surrounded it on either side. Trees grew wild and misshapen towards the sky, that he could see through a large whole in the roof. Pieridae had a sun light in the center of his island, but in this room the entire roof was almost gone. There were hundreds of flowers too, growing through the thicket and on the trees. What struck James as odd was that they were all different species, but every one was some shade of red.

Well, if the fae had a favorite color, who was James to judge.

He wandered about for awhile, taking in the scenery. It was relatively silent, the only noise being the wind in the leaves. He picked a few flowers that had grown in the path, hoping it was ok. At one point, as he leaned down to pick a small wildflower, a large red moth came fluttering down, landing on his finger. It surprised him, but it didn’t fly away when he startled. It just looked at him, with eyes much too intense for an insect, before taking off again.

Eventually he came across a small clearing. He sat down on the soft grass and yawned. The wind whistled, and James thought he could hear the faint sound of a flute. It was relaxing, and pretty soon James was lying down with his arms under his head.

But sleep didn’t come. Instead, James eyes snapped open to a face peering down at him. When they realized he was awake, the fae rolled their eyes and leaned back.

“You really should avoid falling asleep in unfamiliar places, kiddo,” The fae said, not unkindly. They were tall, with light brown skin and pale grey eyes. They would have almost looked human, if not for the shock of white hair and pair of black, feathery antennae growing from their head.

James scrambled up to match the sitting position the fae was in, breathing heavily to keep calm. They didn’t seem threatening, but he’d already learned that appearances could be deceiving when it came to the fae.

“Are you Arin?” He asked, cautiously, looking at the fae’s clothes instead of their face. The fae smiled.

“Close, but not quite. It’s ‘Aeran’. Tricky pronunciation, no sweat.” James repeated the name under his breath. “So what are you doing in my garden, little one?” James frowned at being called little. He was, probably, twelve! Basically a teenager. But he didn’t tell Aeran that.

“Uh, Pieridae said I needed to get some exercise, and he seemed to think your garden would be a nice place to take a walk. I’m Steller,” He cringed when he realized he hadn’t used Pieridae’s title. Was he supposed to?

“Ah, yeah, someone mentioned that.”

“Uh, I’m sorry to ask, but what do you go by?”

“What?”

“I mean, uh, what are your pronouns?” James didn’t want to admit that he had forgotten the word for a moment. The fae chuckled.

“Whatever floats your boat, kid. But I guess most people call me he. Thanks for asking,” James smiled. He liked how Aeran spoke with little formality.

“I like your garden.” He said, then hesitated, “Are you a prince too?” Aeran laughed at that.

“Nope,” He replied, sitting down and leaning back.

“Oh,” James furrowed his brow, thinking. “Why is he a prince if you’re siblings?”

“Oh we’re not related.” Aeran must have noticed the boy’s eyes widen, because he continued, “I’m not one of the Queen’s many,” he paused, “many children, but I have a soft spot for our little prince. I wouldn’t mind if we were related.”

“He called you his sibling.”

“How sweet.”

“Were you playing music earlier?” James asked.

“I was,” Aeran answered, suddenly sounding hesitant.

“It was very pretty,” James said, but Aeran only grimaced. “Is something wrong?” Aeran hummed.

“You’ve met the queen, haven’t you, Steller?” James nodded slowly, unsure where the question came from. “Yeah, I heard about your little stunt when you first arrived. Reminds me of myself when I was your age,” James stared at Aeran.

“What?”

“Now don’t go speculating, I’m not some lost human child,” James tried not to take slight offense at that, “But I think we’re in similar boats.” When he didn’t immediately continue, James got impatient.

“What happened?” He asked, anxious to understand what the fae was talking about. Aeran let out a deep breath.

“Her majesty is quite a piece of work. I wasn’t at your trial, but I heard about it. She sure loves traumatizing kids, doesn’t she?” James didn’t know what that word meant, but he didn’t have time to ask before Aeran continued, “When I was eleven, I was already pretty good at what I do. I’m a musician, a bard if you want to be traditional. I tell stories through song and play the flute and dance to entertain others. When I was a little younger than you, I would play outside our home, and people would bring my family and I more food and trinkets if they liked what I was playing.

“One day, someone I didn’t recognize stopped to hear me play. I didn’t think anything of it, but as I finished my piece, she went up and knocked at our door. She told my mother that the Queen herself had heard of my talent, and that I had been invited to play in her court. It was so exciting! My mother was skeptical at first, but when the courtier announced that my family would receive a reward if I went, well, she practically pushed me out the door,” Aeran let out a faint chuckle at that, but James could tell there was no humor behind it. “The first night was wonderful. I was so young, unused to people cheering for me, and unaware of what was to happen.

“I know your name’s not Steller. You wear it like a mask, or a gift. It isn’t you.” Aeran turned his head away, “If only I’d known that much. Maybe I did know, and I was too wrapped up in the excitement to remember. So when the queen asked for my name, and I told her,” He said it like it was the simplest thing in the world. Like it had happened the same way that someone loses a nickel in a couch cushion. Like it barely mattered at all. But James could tell by the way the fae’s hands dug into the grass and his shoulders tensed, that he was furious.

“I woke up the next morning, tired but excited to rush home and tell my family about my wondrous night. But I could not find the exit. I turned back to the courtroom to ask for directions, but was told that the Queen wanted me to play for her one more night. Well, I couldn’t say no, this was the Queen!” He said the title like it burned him. “So I played another night. And another. And another. A week passed, and I felt alone and exhausted, so I stormed up to the queen and demanded to be taken home. I was a child,” He practically hisses that bit, before composing himself again and returning to his cool composure.“Of course, the Queen said no. So I tried to leave myself, and all she had to say was, ‘Aeran, come here,’ and I was suddenly kneeling at her feet.” James was shocked at the uncanny impression of the voice he hadn’t heard in a year, but continued to listen quietly.

“I think that night was the worst of my life. She didn’t show it, but she was pissed. How dare some little insect try and refuse her? I couldn’t stop dancing, I couldn’t stop singing. Not until the sun set and rose again. Not until my feet were bleeding and my muscles were tight and my throat was raw.” Aeran’s eyes were tired when he turned back to James, but he forced a smile. James felt a hand land on his head in a comforting gesture. James hadn’t noticed how hard he was shaking.

“I’m sorry, little one. I didn’t mean to upset you.” James shook Aeran off.

“Does she still make you perform?” James asked, almost whispering as if someone might hear him in the otherwise empty garden. Aeran smiles softly.

“Only occasionally. Most of the time I’m left alone. I still can’t leave, though.” He sighs, “So I’m left to my garden. I’m fairly proud of it, you know. The queen hates it. Don’t know why, but, hey, she lets me do what I please. Perhaps she does have a heart, somewhere in there.”

“I’m sorry,” is all the James can think to say. Aeran shakes his head.

“Don’t apologize for things you had nothing to do with, kid. Save your words for more important things. I am telling you all this to let you know that you are not alone. Pieridae can’t help you, but if I ever figure out how to leave, well, I’d be happy to make a stop by the Prince’s court,” James eyes go wide.

“Really?”

“Hell yeah, I’m all for getting kids back to their parents. And who knows,” He shrugged, “Maybe the human world is meant for me,” James had to admit, Aeran was probably the most human of any of the fae he had interacted with, if you ignored the antennae. He could picture Aeran performing at the live music shows in town that his dad sometimes took him too. He wondered if Aeran would be a better babysitter than Ms.Lisa.

“Don’t you want to go back to your family?” James asked, and Aeran made an uncertain noise.

“It’s complicated, kiddo. I’d love to see them again but… with the Queen and everything, I don’t know if my family would be happy to see me,” James frowned. He couldn’t believe that. But he didn’t say what he is thinking, for once. Instead, he leaned back to mimic the fae, and they lapsed into a calm silence.

Aeran ended up walking him back to Pieridae’s court. The guards came to retrieve him, but, the musician waved them off, explaining that he could handle it. The guards continued to not emote, and retreated down the hallway. Aeran began humming a gentle, yet upbeat tune, and James finds himself smiling as they walk.

Soon enough, the wide doors to Pieridae’s room stood before them.

“Well, I better get going. Have fun with the Prince, tell him I said hey.”

“I will,” He replied, and then watched in surprise as Aeran’s form changed. “It was you!” He cried out in delight at the little red moth that appeared in his place, and got the faint impression that it was laughing at him before it fluttered away. He turned towards the doors, and pushed them open.

Something hit him in the face, knocking him down. He heard Pieridae yelp.

“Sorry! I panicked!” He heard the prince call, while he was busy rubbing the newly formed bump on his head. He glanced down beside him to see a small box lying next to him. He picked it up, then glanced toward the lake. Pieridae was standing knee deep in the water, a few feet from the edge of the island, surrounded by… floating glass balls? All of the pillows and blankets on the island had been piled together to create a sizable mound in the middle.

“Alright, so, I don’t know what balloons are, but! I think I’m getting closer. Sorry, I guess I lost track of time,” Pieridae smiled at James, an expression filled with nervous laughter and hope that James couldn’t help but return it. Pieridae waded out of the water, surprising James when he wrapped the other boy in a tight hug.

“Happy Birthday, Steller.”

#My writing #my ocs #fairies #fair folk #fae #original writing #original characters #original fiction #james woodward #Pieridae

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sunflowerstache · 6 years ago

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A Happy Man (Part 2)

A/N: Hello beauties! This is the sequel to my first ever angst piece “You’ll Be Okay” and I really love it! It’s loosely based off the song Die A Happy Man by Thomas Rhett! As always, if you enjoyed/have questions/comments/suggestions/all of the above, please let me know! I love hearing from y'all so much and I love you all to bits!

Word Count: 3.1k

Masterlist Part 1

“Have a nice Saturday love.”

Your phone buzzed on the end table next to your spot on the couch, indicating another incoming message from Harry. And just like every other day, you left the message unanswered. For the past 4 days, like clockwork, he had sent you a text at exactly 8:15am, wishing you a good day, and another at 9:30pm reminding you that he loves you. After walking out of yours and Harry’s hotel’s room 4 days ago, you had immediately flown home and showed up a sobbing mess at your parent’s doorstep. Upon the door opening, you found your father raising a baseball bat and your mother hidden on the staircase, in fear of an intruder – as it was the early hours of the morning – a sight you would laugh at if it were any other circumstance. Once your parents realized it was just you, and that you were a wreck, they quickly ushered you inside and to the couch, so you could explain what was wrong. That was days ago, and here you were, still seated in the same spot, staring off into space while your parents watched from the entryway.

“She’s going to start growing into the couch if she doesn’t move Y/M/N.” your dad whispered, or at least whispered as much as a dad was capable.

There was a small thud, and you knew your mom had gently smacked your father’s chest, “He meant a lot to her. She just needs some time.”

“And she can hear you both.” You turned your head to look at the two of them huddled together. “I appreciate you letting me crash here, but you don’t have to dote over me. I’m a big girl. Go to the Christmas Tree Shop or whatever it is you retired folk do.” You tried to crack a smile, but you knew it looked more like grimace.

“Oh hunny, you don’t have to thank us. You’re our baby, of course you are always welcome here.” Your mom cooed as she scuttled across the room to sit next to you and run her fingers through your hair, “Everything’s going to work itself out. I promise.”

“My offer still stands monkey. You let me know where he is, and I’ll go have a nice little chat with Harold.” Your dad smiled, still standing at the entryway.

“No dad. The last thing I want is for you to talk to him right now. It would only make things worse. I mean, I didn’t break up with him. I just told him I needed time. So that’s what I’m doing. Taking some time.” You took a deep breath, talking more to yourself than to your parents now, “Not broken up.”

~~~

“She broke up with me, mum.” Harry’s groan was muffled by the thick white duvet as he laid face down on his hotel bed, still in yesterday’s clothes. “I’ve tried to talk to her every day, and there’s no reply.” Similarly to Y/N, Harry had spent the last 4 days in the same position; wallowing in self-pity and crying to his mother.

“She didn’t my dear. You told me what she said, and she just needs some time.” Anne was seated next to her son, running her hands through his short curls, “You have to understand where she’s coming from. The two of you have been strong for two years, this is just a small bump. Everyone goes through them.”

“Not us, mum. We don’t do this. We never fight, and we never walk away from each other. We’re best friends. Or, we were at least.”

“The two of you are two peas in a pod, don’t doubt that Harry. You have a very busy life, and I mean this with every ounce of love I have for you,” Harry turned his head to peak out from under the blanket to look at Anne, “but you do tend to put quite a lot on your plate. And you never were one for clearing your plate. You’ve been so focused on finding things to keep you busy during this time off, that you’ve put some things to the back burner. Some important things.”

It was like Harry was transported back in time, listening to the bustling streets below while everyone carried on with their lives. Like he wasn’t losing his mind 14 floors above their heads. He knew his mum was right. He always wanted to have a plan a, and a plan b, and plan c, but there was never a risk for that lifestyle before. Never the chance for his precisely planned life to cause such an uproar. But here he was, a weeping, snotty, mess because he planned for everything except his love leaving him.

“Let me ask you, Harry. All of the money, the designer clothes, the followers, notoriety, is it all what’s most important to you? Would you be the happiest with only that?”

His head was shaking before Anne could even finish her questions. There was no doubt in his mind that everything he has, everything his unprecedented luck has been able to provide him, meant nothing if he had no one to share it with. No one to come home to laugh about cute fan encounters with. Nothing without anyone to call up when the silence of empty hotel rooms becomes too much. “Absolutely not.”

“Then in your heart, you know what to do.” She nodded and patted Harry’s back before getting up and disappearing through the front door.

~~~

“Alright, look munchkin. I love you, you know that. But the ass that’s supposed to be making a dent in the couch is mine. I didn’t retire for you to beat me to it.” Your dad plopped down on the couch next to you. “You have a bed upstairs for that.”

“Can’t dad. ‘ve got pictures of him up there. Don’t wanna look at them right now.” You paused, hearing your mother on the phone, for the 4thtime today, “Who she keep talking to?”

You heard him huff next to you, “Who knows. She’s always got something new to gossip about these days. This week, it’s been about Martha leaving the office to go to the company upstairs.”

You were thankful for your dad. While your mother was always the one to sit you down and talk some sense into you when something was going awry, your dad was the comedic relief you needed. He always knew how to take your mind off of the seriousness of life. Which Is exactly what you needed right now.

“I wasn’t going to say anything, ya know, because of the reason you’re here and all, but you smell kid. I don’t know how it works across the pond, but over here we have these things called showers. It’s real neat, you go in and wash you-“

“Oh my god, shut up dad. We have showers for fucks sake.” You laughed, leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder. The two of you sat in silence for a moment, the soft murmur of Netflix and your soft breathing filled the air.

“Everything’s going to work out darling. Everyone goes through a rough patch, and it was about time the two of you had yours.” He stopped for a moment, “You know, your mother and I separated for a couple of months.”

Your head shot up at that and looked wide eyed at your father. For your entire life, you idolized your parent’s relationship and wished for nothing more than to achieve what they have. You never would have imagined that they went through any sort of issues. “No you didn’t! When?”

“You were about a year old. I was working double shifts every week while she stayed home with you. She wanted to be able to be there for you every day, watch you grow, and I would have loved nothing more, but someone had to pay for all the diapers you shit in.” you both chuckled, “Me not being home was too much for her and she told me she needed time. Sound familiar?”

“How’d you get past it?”

“I had been staying with your uncle for a couple months, and then woke up one morning, looked in the mirror and told myself I was an idiot for walking away so easily. So, I went back to the house, sat her down, told her how much I loved her and that I was working so hard so that the two of you could have the best lives possible. That’s all I want – the two of you to be happy and not worry about anything.”

The tears were starting to form in your eyes, thinking about how similar your situation is to what your parents went through. Not wanting to sit and cry in front of your dad, again, you patted his knee and stood up.

“About time I go shower, yeah? Wash this stink off.” you smiled and made your way to the staircase, leading to the second floor of your childhood home.

“I love you kiddo.” Your dad called after you, making some warmth spread through your relatively cold body.

In any other situation, you would be disgusted with yourself that this was your first shower in 4 days. But showering was the last thing on your mind recently. As you stood under the searing water, you thought over everything your father had said. Everything he spoke about, you knew is how Harry felt. He told you every chance he got that he loved providing for you, loved being able to make you smile. And it didn’t take much. You got so much joy just by watching in achieve the things he dreamed of and standing behind the scenes to see just how much the love of your life has achieved. But that wasn’t what caused your departure. You had watched Harry make room in his busy life for countless people, so why couldn’t he do that for someone he loved? You thought back to your trip to Italy and hung your head. In his own way, you realized, he did. After canceling your museum tour, he had the two of your sit in bed all night and watch a Italian historical documentary. Brought you to the private hotel pool with a bottle of wine after not being able to go to the beach and left you a note the morning of your cancelled breakfast date. You realized these were all ways he showed you he cared and wasn’t trying to put work ahead of you. And here you were, standing in your parent’s shower, ignoring all his loving messages every day, just so you could justify your leaving. Quickly shutting off the water, you grabbed a towel and made a beeline to your old room, needing to get dressed and find your phone. You had apologizing to do.

You ran down the stairs, after throwing on some old black sweats and a white t-shirt, your hair still dripping from the shower and leaving a trail of water in your path. Getting to the space you were occupying on the couch, you noticed that your phone was no longer on the charger, “Mom! Where did you move my phone?”

No response.

“Seriously mom! I need to use my phone.”

Again, not response, just the sound of glasses clinking in the kitchen.

“I can hear you in the kitchen. If you’re ignoring me because you’re on the phone with someone from the office, talking about Martha again, I swear I’m gon-“ you choked on your sentence upon entering the kitchen, where you expected to find your mother.

The two of you stared at each other like deer caught in headlights, not knowing what to do or say. A wine glass was gently set down, and the room was so silent that you could hear the silent ringing it made when making contact with the marble countertop. You could feel your breathing start to pick up when he licked his lips and whisper a soft “Hi.”

“He – wha – what are you – how did?”

“I called your mom earlier. Told her I wanted to come. See you.”

You nodded, biting the inside of your lip, not knowing how to get past the awkward tension in the air. You had never experienced this with Harry, this foggy unknown feeling. And you hated it.

“Why.”

“Why what?” lines formed on his forehead

“Why – why would you want to see me?

He continued to just stare at you, like you just asked him the meaning of life, with his mouth agape and hands on now resting on top of the counter. “Because I love you. And I’m not letting this be over. I’m not.” He shrugged, “I know you sai-“

“I’m sorry.” You exclaimed, interrupting whatever he was about to say, “I’m sorry for assuming you cared more about work. I’m sorry for blaming you for cancelling things. I’m sorry for leaving. I’m sorry, so sorry.”

Before you knew what was happening, he had raced around the kitchen island and scooped you into his arms before your knees could buckled beneath you. Muffled gasps were coming from between your lips as Harry ran his hands over the back of your head.

“Shhh, hey none of that. It’s alright. You’re okay. I’m here.”

The two of you stayed locked in one another’s arms for what seemed like hours, making up for missing the feel of each other. Missing the way you could feel Harry’s heartbeat on your temple when hugging him. Him missing the feeling of your hands wound around his torso, toying with his back-belt loops. The two of you missing the comforting smell of the other. Slowly, once your crying subsided, Harry backed away slightly so that he could look at you.

“I think we have some stuff to talk about, yeah?” you nodded simultaneously and moved to sit down, facing each other, on the kitchen island stools. He gently picked up both your hands in his own, “Before you say anything, I need you to know I love you. I am so fucking in love with you that it makes my head spin. And when you walked out of that hotel room, I felt like I was drowning.” You moved to apologize again, but he quickly cut you off, “I don’t want to hear another apology out of you. Don’t ever apologize for your feelings. The hurt you’re feeling is yours to feel however you see fit.”

“I just, I don’t want you to think I’m asking you to choose, H. I would never. I know how much your career means to you, it means everything to me too. Watching you succeed and do what you love means the world to me.” You sniffled, trying make sure he understood that you support him in everything he does.

“But I would. I would choose. Because as much as I love the traveling and picking up new projects, and always being busy, I love you more. I love you more than all the sushi I could stomach in Japan. More than the packages Gucci sends me with new clothes. More than there are stars in the sky. So, I’mthe sorry one. I’m so sorry I ever made you doubt that, m‘love.” His eyes started to glaze over, accent getting thicker, as the threat of tears grew closer and closer.

“My career has given me more than I could ever ask for. This life I live gives me opportunities I never in a million years could have wished for. But absolutely none of it means anything if you’re not there to share it with me.” The smile that graced Harry’s face was brighter than anything you’ve ever seen on him. His dimples were prominent on his hair covered jaw, small crow’s feet loitered around the corners of his eyes, and his hands tightened in yours.

“But you should be able to do those things without worrying about me. About making sure I’m alright. You’re so young and so successful Harry! You shouldn’t have to worry about how I’m feeling 24/7. You should be able to do what you want, when you want it. To be your own person.” You argued, knowing that this argument was slowly fleeting, as your love for the man in front of you was overpowering any doubts you had.

“I know who I am, doll. But I also know that I’m better with you. I’m better when I wake up to see your hair sprawled all over the bed. Better when I see you in that black dress that makes it hard for me to breathe. Better when you’re around. So, if I never get to see the Eiffel Tower again, or drive a new sports car, that’s okay.” he shrugged, seeing your inner turmoil in your eyes, “Because if the only thing that I have in life is your hand in mine, then I could die a happy man.”

You took your hand out of his hold to brush away the tears that had made their way down your puffy cheeks. Guilt flooded through your veins for ever thinking that Harry loved you any less than how he described. So, you leaned forward to place a kiss to his lips, needing him to know you loved him just the same.

“I quite like the Eiffel tower.” You whispered once your lips disconnected from his, and a small chuckle left his lips,

“I know petal. I just want you to know that I don’t need a fancy destination because you’re my great escape. My sense of normalcy in this crazy life. You’re the one I want to repaint the living room while listening to Sinatra radio and dance around the fireplace with.”

You knew when starting this relationship that things would get difficult, what with being in the public eye and all the moving around. But you also knew that it was all worth it. It was worth it when you got to see Harry after walking off stage, after his morning jog, with his tongue sticking out between his lips while jotting things down in his journal. All the scrutiny was worth it when you got to slow dance in the kitchen or lounge all day with Evie. And no amount of rescheduling or cancellations would change that.

“Did you really just try to flex your Gucci deliveries to me?”

Taglist: @theasstour @emotionally-imbruised @harryspirate @swayingnoodlelove

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theawkwardterrier · 5 years ago

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things left behind and the things that are ahead, ch. 10

AO3 link here

Drea is the only one of his kids who Steve successfully gets into baseball. Rosie at age six tells him seriously that she has other, more important things to do than watch grownup men get excited about a ball, Em sits patiently through a couple of games that she clearly has no interest in, and Nate, when offered a chance to visit the ballpark for the first time at five years old says, "If you would be happy about it," in such a sweet, guileless way that Steve chokes up and tells him right away to forget about it. (Peggy is only too happy to have him look for someone else to bring - while she knows the rules by now and has watched a few games herself, he thinks that she'd have happily abdicated her seat to any passerby who wanted it. It's fine: she once tried to explain the rules of cricket, and he thinks he might still be comatose.)

But Drea loves it enough for all the rest of them, collecting cards, scanning the sports section each morning as the season approaches, and talking statistics like they're her second language. Nothing much has changed for her since they moved to Maryland: she has a group of boys to trade cards with, her best friends even as she enters junior high, and she's still a solid early choice in a schoolyard or street pickup game.

Steve's too cheap to shell out for Orioles season tickets - they live closer to DC, so getting to Baltimore is less convenient especially for weeknight games, but he's pretty sure that Washington loses their team sometime soon and he doesn't want his daughter getting attached and going through the same heartbreak he did - but he makes sure to take her to a few games a season, just the two of them.

It's a beautiful May Sunday, and the Orioles have just absolutely trounced Kansas City. Steve tosses their hot dog wrappers in the trash on the way out - four of his, one of Drea's - and wraps his arm around her, kissing the top of her baseball cap-covered head as they join the chattering crowd on the way back to their car.

"That was a great game," he says. "I think the O's have a good chance of making the series this year, huh?"

"I'm not very much like other girls, am I?"

It's more momentum than anything that keeps Steve walking. "What do you mean?" he asks carefully, looking down at her. The brim of her cap blocks him from seeing her face, but her shoulders hunch a little under his hand.

"I'm not like Mom," she says. "Or like Emma."

"Well that’s good, because I don't know if I could handle two Emmas. We'd never be able to finish all the desserts." Steve jokes. "And it would be a pretty big coincidence if you were like Mom." Everyone in town is used to the Carters by now, but when they had moved down from New Jersey five years ago, the variation in looks between the children and their lack of similarity to either parent had brought reactions ranging from pity to outright disdain.

"That's not what I mean." Drea starts to walk a little faster, even knowing that her dad can keep up. Her words come out in small, breathless bursts, and Steve aches a little at the bravery it is taking her just to keep speaking them. "It’s just...they know about girl stuff. Mom knows when to wear fancy gloves and pearls and it never looks weird, and Emmy just knows how to talk with other girls. They understand everything without even trying. They like this stuff. The only stuff I like is boy stuff."

"Hey," he says, pulling her to the side of the crowd so he can stop and bend to face her. He peers into the shadow beneath her ball cap, finding her jewel-dark blue eyes. "You're a girl. Anything you like is girl stuff."

She turns away from him. "Yeah, okay."

"I know that Em is a certain kind of girl—" Emma has already requested her own set of mixing bowls for Christmas. Practically the only time she wears pants is in the garden. She used to spend entire afternoons pouring “tea” for a dozen dolls and stuffed animals, signing politely to them as she sipped with an extended pinky. "But your mom put up with a lot during the war, and even now there are plenty of people who say that she isn't doing the things a woman should do. And what about Rosie? She doesn’t exactly fit into a box."

"It's different for me than it is for Rosie." That she says it simply, without a sigh or a teenage eyeroll, makes him sad. Even sadder than that: she's right. As much as he doesn't want it to be, it is different for her than it is for Rose, or Emma, or even Peggy.

"Okay," he says. "You're different than some girls. But that doesn't mean you're doing anything wrong. And I would hate for you to change the way you are or the things you love just because you felt that you had to fit in.” He tries to smile. “Besides, Bucky and the family are coming to visit over the summer and I promised them a good time, which means a trip to the ballpark with the two of us."

This time she does sigh, a tiny hiccup of not being entirely understood or at least of realizing that her father can't fix everything for her. "Yeah," she says again. "Okay."

Steve stands to his full height once again and hugs her against his side for a moment. He and Peggy have changed a lot, but there are some things even more stubborn than they are.

Tonight was supposed to be a date night with Steve, but there’s been a new FBI head for three, nearly four years now, and Peggy is only just getting around to inviting him and his wife for a collegial dinner engagement. Steve very sweetly said that he doesn't mind any of the time that he gets to spend with her, but she knows that this isn't exactly his idea of an enjoyable evening out. She'll have to remember to make it up to him.

"Which one?" she asks Drea, holding three dress options in front of herself. There's a deep, vivid scarlet number, a classic flared black, and a black and aubergine paneled silk with the tags still on.

Drea considers. "The red. Daddy likes it when you wear red."

"So he does." She strips off her robe and leaves it on the back of the chair as she slides the dress over her head, moving to the mirror to do up the last of the zip and smooth it over her hips. Peggy keeps herself fairly trim, but it's been a while since she wore this particular dress, and one never knows how things might have changed.

In the glass, she glimpses Drea, her black hair tangled and wild around her shoulders as always, her knees tented as she tucks nearly her whole narrow body into the white T-shirt she's wearing: one of Steve's undershirts, no doubt. Drea practically lives in them as it gets warmer. If it were prior to Lula-Cat's escape of the previous summer, the beast would surely be purring on the bed beside her favorite Carter, allowing herself to be petted as she got fur all over Peggy's clean pillowcases.

She is almost fourteen, Peggy realizes with a pang, and not only because her children are growing up even more quickly than she had expected. They will have another year of people plausibly believing her to be a late bloomer, perhaps not even that. She, Steve, Drea and her doctor have an appointment soon for a discussion, and Peggy makes a note to sit down Howard with as well. The little tools he's made for Emma - the vibrating clip for her swimsuit for when they go to the beach, the egg timer with its flashing lights - have been helpful, but the things he could make for Drea might be lifesaving.

As she moves to the vanity and fixes her face, traces on her vividly red lipstick with a practiced hand, thinks for a moment and adds pearl earrings and a simple crystal necklace which Steve gave her for their fifteenth anniversary, she fights to keep both the fear and calculation from her face. Drea already looks melancholy enough.

Peggy sits at the edge of the bed to put on her hose and her pumps. She is just about to get up and take in the final product when Drea says from beside her, "Mom, can you teach me how to put on makeup?"

Peggy pauses for just a moment, then asks, "What brought this on?" She allows only a tiny amount of surprise into her voice. It would be unbelievable otherwise, but the true amount of shock she feels at the question would be insulting, would drive her daughter away.

"Some girls at school are starting to use it. And I—" Her voice falters a bit, then comes back stronger, perhaps too strong, as if she's given herself a stern lecture. "I think I should also know how."

"I think you're a bit young for it, and I'm not sure that 'because everyone else is doing it' is a particularly good reason," says Peggy, continuing over the beginning of Drea's protestations. "But if that's what you truly want, I can certainly give you a lesson or two." She sighs, perhaps a bit theatrically. "Goodness knows I'd have liked for Rosie to ask before she made her first attempts."

It works. Drea laughs a little, remembering Rose's early experiments with cheap drugstore eye makeup and vending machine lip color in a particularly revolting shade of tangerine that gave her a rash.

Peggy stands, smoothing her dress one final time and going over to the closet. She takes out a handbag, and riffles through Steve's tie hanger, selecting a red one which will match her dress and coordinate well with the gray suit she had watched him put on earlier.

"Are you ready?" Drea asks, her voice a bit less dispirited than it had been a few moments earlier, and Peggy nods and moves toward her. Drea spritzes the perfume precisely, two sprays that float in the air for Peggy to walk through. She had always touched on her own scent, a bit at each wrist and at her throat, and just a drop or two on a sachet in her brassiere, but then the children had come along, and now this was a particular tradition whenever one of them helped her get ready.

"Be good for Rose," Peggy says as she leaves the room, and Drea calls back, "If she's good to me."

Rose herself is sitting sprawled out in the doorway of her bedroom, scribbling into a notebook. She is in the midst of a hard-fought campaign for presidency of the upcoming senior class, and lately seems to have decided to plop herself down whenever an idea might catch her. Her legs aren’t long, even at the end of her growth spurt, but she’s positioned herself so they stretch out into the hallway and Peggy steps over them as she passes.

"Don't forget about bedtime," she reminds her eldest, and Rose makes a vague affirmative sound before she places a firm full stop at the end of whatever sentence she is writing and, stretching, looks up at her mother.

"What did you say?"

"Bedtime," Peggy repeats firmly. "Your siblings must adhere to it. As should you. I know that school is coming to an end, but it isn’t here yet."

"Fine," Rosie says with a wave of her hand, and Peggy knows that she'll see the bedroom light snap off just as they turn up the driveway. She starts on her way again (if Rose wants to develop poor sleeping habits, that is her responsibility) but then turns back.

"And be kind to your sister," she tells Rose, dropping her voice a bit. "I think she's having a hard time."

"I can make her a Surprise," Rose suggests, and Peggy shudders, and not just because of Rosie's notoriously poor cooking skills. Drea is the only one of the children with clear memories of her birth parents - she was five when they were killed in a fire while out for their anniversary dinner. One of the things she remembers most clearly is the multitude of casseroles her birth mother made: Hamburger Surprise, Tuna Surprise, Potato Surprise... Peggy has no doubt that they were as ordinary, or perhaps as lackluster, as any example of such a dish, but Drea had built them up in her mind, built them up for Nate, who had no memories of their parents, such that she had spent her childhood requesting various types of Surprises for birthday meals or following an especially good report card.

Steve has turned into a good cook and with Emma at his side they can turn out almost anything, but a Surprise has never been Peggy’s idea of fine cuisine.

"Supper is already being taken care of," Peggy says, adding the thankfully for you only mentally. She can smell Sam's Cornbread in the oven now, can hear the airy silence downstairs, punctuated with little sounds that signify Steve refereeing a fight between Emma and Nate, likely about how much spice to add to the chili. "Just be nice to Drea."

"If she's nice to me," Rosie says, and Peggy refrains from lifting her eyes upward and asking why she had been given two daughters who were so similar and yet refused to realize it.

"Everyone's finished their schoolwork, but make sure that Nate’s book report ends up in his bag. And Emma is trying a new recipe for creamed Brussels sprouts - please tell everyone that they must at least taste it. Don’t simply take the whole pot and bury it in the garbage pail, and certainly don’t try to throw it in the woods the way you did the spinach," Peggy tells her shrewdly, but a new idea seemed to have struck and Rosie is back to her notebook again.

Peggy moves on. Rose has minded her siblings before, and Peggy doesn't want to be late to the dinner and cause an inter-agency incident; Howard would never let her hear the end of it. Besides, she and Steve will have an opportunity to discuss Drea in the car over - there comes a point where even a night away from the children is never truly away from the children.

Rosie lets Nate and Emma stay up for an extra half hour to cement herself as a Cool Older Sister. Once they're asleep, she knocks on Drea's door, barely waiting to be invited before she enters.

Drea is lying on her back on her bed, tossing a ball up and catching it.

"Be careful it doesn't hit your face," Rose says, hoping that it doesn't come out mean or bossy the way her words sometimes do when she's talking to Drea.

"It’s never happened to me before.” Drea doesn’t take her eyes off the ball. “Just because you’re still scarred from the Wiffle Ball Incident—”

“You said you wouldn’t ever mention that!” Rose comes in and closes the door all the way. “Ugh, just move over.” Drea groans as she sits up against the headboard, but she tucks her legs up to make room and Rosie takes a seat. “Look, I heard you asking Mom about makeup and stuff. Are people giving you trouble at school? Because I’ll give them a talking to if they are.”

“You’re not queen of the high school yet. No one has to just listen to you when you go blab in their face,” says Drea, jutting out her chin, although they both know that when Rosie gives someone a talking to, it not infrequently involves violence. (There had been a question about whether or not she was even allowed to run for the student council based on the number of detentions and suspensions on her record.)

“You’re my sister,” says Rose, setting her own chin. “And if someone’s making problems for you, I’ll take care of it.”

Despite herself, Drea laughs. “You sound like Jimmy Hoffa.”

“Maybe, but Mom would make sure that I covered my tracks better than he did.” Rose lies back across the bed, legs just long enough for her feet to still touch the floor. She turns her face, her hair fanned around her as she looks at Drea, curled up at the head of the bed. “You know I’m serious, right?”

“I know. But it’s not really someone in particular, it’s just...life.”

Rosie sighs. “Yeah.” She puts out her hand, and Drea scooches down to grasp it. “Life’s hard.”

Sarcasm is on the tip of Drea’s tongue - “Tell me more, oh wise one!” - but instead she stays quiet and holds her sister’s hand until their parents return.

Drea and Steve go with Bucky, Layla, and their kids to watch a blowout Orioles win during their vacation at the end of July - Drea cheers louder than anyone. In August, after they've returned from their own vacation, Peggy sits Drea down at the vanity and walks her a half dozen different beauty products, while Rose comments loudly from the bed. Just before school starts in September, Drea uses her allowance to get a flat iron and gives herself three burns learning how to use it.

The Orioles lose the Series to the Mets, and Drea starts wearing dresses for the first time since she was a child.

It won’t be any help, Steve realizes as she sits down across from him at the breakfast table, settling her skirt self-consciously, sitting up straight and crossing her ankles with awkward politeness, to remind her once more that she doesn’t need to do this. She has a good head on her shoulders, and she’s using it to process everything in the world that tells her otherwise. He remembers what Peggy has said about it, that she’ll come back to herself, she’ll come back to them, when she’s ready. So instead he says, “Hey, kid,” and when she looks up at him, he smiles and tells her, “there’s always next year, you know? Always another shot if we need it.”

And to his relief, she smiles back, the expression familiar, wild-edged and lovely, the same as it’s always been. Hello in there, he thinks.

“Yeah, Dad,” she says. “There’s always next year.”

More chapters here

#Steggy fic #Steggy #Steve Rogers #Peggy Carter #things left behind fic #probably nothing new next week while I do other fic prep

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