#especially with finally getting my room back from my demon niece and nephew

[lavaridgexflannery]

PSA FOR FOLLOWERS & RP FRIENDOS!!!

As of September 3rd - October 3rd...my replies will be slower than usual. Since my boyfriend is coming to see me from Britain to the US. I've been looking forward to this since like...April, when he booked the tickets. ❤️🥰

FLAN MUN GONNA GET HER SOME HUGS!!!

[jeanbie]

♡˳೫˚∗ LOVELY #2 ★ masterlist.

pairing: jean x reader

genre: domestic au | warnings: suggestive sexual themes at the end | wc: 3.3k

⏤ Jean and Y/N play Mom and Dad for a little bit.

Jean could cry. He could quite honestly, genuinely, whole-heartedly cry, right here and right now in the middle of his living room, surrounded by mess and feathers from the bedroom pillows.

He loves kids, don’t get him wrong- my God, he loves kids, and loves how kids can make a house feel like a home, how kids say some really fucking weird things; but, Jean finds that kids are a lot of hard work.

He has half the heart to call his parents and say sorry urgently, because children are like tiny spawns of Satan, demons wanting to cause chaos at every corner.

The last time Jean and yourself were given the mission of looking after your niece and nephews, they were much smaller, and therefore easier to look after. All they did was sleep, and cry when they were hungry or needed to pee or poop, and were perfectly content doing absolutely nothing all damn day.

Now, three years later, when your sister and her husband are going on a small self-care vacation to Spain, Jean removes himself from the situation to observe the situation, which in description is the view of his living room completely ransacked and bustling with life, crazed children dashing around at full speed, like Mario Kart characters using the star. 

It’s so overwhelming that he actually doesn’t even know what to say. When the fuck did they get so hard to look after?

Whenever your niece and nephews came over to visit, they clung to Jean like moths to lamplight. You never knew why, but it made sense. Jean was fun, and easy to get along with, and perhaps his kind-hearted nature was universally loved by all ages. Even when they were babies, they settled with Jean, staying silent and googly-eyed whereas in your arms they screeched, like banshees or dinosaurs swinging in trees.

You couldn’t fault them; Jean was irresistible, maternal almost in the way his voice changed around the kids, the way he laughed at their weird jokes and forced himself into pretend roles, like the mean villain coming to take over their Playmobil hospital.

Eight a.m, that’s when they arrived. Jean had got up at six, eager and anxious, already cutting up salad bowls made up of apple slices and watermelons.

Over an overly bitter cup of tea, you heard him ask, “wait, can three year olds eat watermelon?”, and you glared at him to resist the urge to respond with something that may well hurt his feelings.

(1)

“Y/N, I’m sorry, but you’re boring.”

Five year olds can be blunt and mean. You now know this to be a fact, because the eldest of the four just said that to you, his hands on his hips with his lips in an unamused pout. He stands by the window, one foot on the Playmobil ambulance and the other on his leg like a flamingo.

“What? Why, what did I do?” you ask, confused and honestly, slightly offended.

Jean sits off to one side petting the hair of the youngest, his secret favourite because she’s not quite old enough to ask questions or complain.

“That’s what I mean, you’re not doing anything,” he huffs. “You’re supposed to be the bad police officer.”

“There’s no such thing as a bad police officer,” you try to tell him. You pause, realising you’re wrong but also realising that you’re not advised to get political with a five year old, especially one who still thinks the tooth fairy is a real thing. “I’m trying to be realistic.”

“You suck,” comes his reply. Jean snorts, shrugging when you glance at him angrily.

“Stop, you know I’m your favourite Aunt,” you say to him sweetly.

Your nephew, sassy and honest little Jamie, pulls a face and sits back down with a huff, snatching the ambulance off the carpet to thrust the small man inside. “You’re my only Aunt, Auntie Y/N.”

Right.

The not-so-bad-police-officer gets snatched away from you seconds later and you decide, with finality and assertiveness, that you’re done with playing pretend with them.

You lift yourself up off the floor, crouching over to take Maria away from Jean’s arms. Jean pouts, his eyes blown wide as he watches the baby being lifted away from him and towards you.

“Uncle Jean can be the villain,” you suggest, making Jamie forget how uncool you are as he launches into an enthusiastic cheer, followed by his siblings who are making noise just because he is. Jean stares at you, pleading. “Anybody hungry?”

“No thanks, Auntie Y/N,” Jamie replies.

“Oh, do we have animal crackers?” asks Marcel politely, and you nod, taking his hand as you walk towards the kitchen, where a neatly packed bag sits on the counter where you left it when the four little monsters came by your apartment this morning. 

(2)

“Y/N, did you move Jamie’s inhaler?”

“No, why?”

Jean appears in the doorway to the kitchen, scratching the back of his neck out of a nervous, absent-minded habit. His eyes are glued to the four children in the living room.

“They’re running around a lot, I don’t want Jamie to lose his breath and have an attack,” Jean explains, meanwhile you rummage around in your sister’s handy dandy travel bag and search for the tiny blue inhaler.

Jean braves looking away from them and instead over to you, “if it’s not in there, it’s fine, I’ll check the bathroom again.”

You hum, searching blindly. “Yeah, it’s not here, baby. Check the cabinet under the sink, I’m eighty nine percent sure that it’s in one of those plastic boxes.”

Jean’s eyebrows push up in amusement: “Jamie’s life is counting on this eighty nine percent.”

“The more you question me, the less confident I get. Check the bathroom,” you reply, shoving a baby carrot into your mouth as you follow Jean out of the kitchen, opting to watch the kids while he rummages around in hordes of bathroom mess.

While Jean hurries into the hallway to check the bathroom, you step out into the living room and pause comically.

The four kids seem perfectly happy, loud and obnoxious and covered in a thin layer of white feathers, bleeding from one of the pillows mangled on the floor.

Without context, this looks like a murder scene, with crayons broken and split around the floor and the couch throw on the floor next to the Playmobil set, and you’re half praying on everybody’s behalf that those pillows aren't the ones from the master bedroom, because you’re pretty sure you don’t have any spares laying around for later.

“Found it,” Jean returns a few minutes later, holding the small inhaler in his hands. After taking a second out of the room, when he comes back he doesn’t quite know what to say. “The mess wasn’t my fault.”

You frown, your hands on your hips. “I know. Maybe you should put on a movie, keep them entertained for a bit so they don’t completely trash our house.”

Jean chews the inside of his lip. “Is it cheating if we call over Marco to help? He’s always on kiddie pool duty, he’s better with kids than we are.”

“You’re so good with kids, shut up,” you say to him, gently smacking his arm. “They love you.”

(3)

“I hate carrots.”

“You do like carrots.”

A gag. “Vegetables! Yuck!”

With one hand, you rake through your hair, staring tiredly at Jamie and Freddie as they fuss over the food on their plates. And it’s not even like you wanted to give them carrots! You’re just following the note left for you in the bag, with the instructions of an actual parent being your law.

Jean sits at the other end of the table, twirling his fork around his food as he watches, feeling increasingly guilty.

It’s hard being an Aunt, especially hard being the uncool Aunt. He knows it’s just a joke, just something the kids say because you’re looking out for them, and he frowns, looking around the table.

“I’m allergic to carrots,” Jamie says suddenly.

“Don’t lie,” you tell him, aeroplane feeding Maria who seems to be the only baby present who appreciates your efforts. She laughs and squeals as the spoon of food comes towards her and that makes you smile, animated sound effects as she eats it.

Jamie pouts, “It’s true.”

“Your Mom told me to feed you this, don’t hate me,” you say to him, making your own pout which he, as a stubborn five year old, ignores. “Come on, eat all your food and you can have pudding afterwards. I’ll let you have two slices of cake instead of one.”

He feels tempted. “Can I leave the carrots?”

“No. Carrots will make you super strong,” you explain. “Uncle Jean ate carrots when he was a kid and now he’s real strong, look!”

Jamie glances at Jean, who smiles for effect and encouragement. “Auntie Y/N is right. I hated carrots too, but I wanted to be big and strong so I ate all my vegetables.”

A groan of sadness comes out of Jamie’s mouth. At this point, Freddie is convinced, wolfing down his carrots that he actually doesn’t hate after-all, considering they’re gone in a matter of seconds. Marcel seems unbothered about the entire thing, quietly eating his food because he knows that he wants that additional slice of cake, even if Jamie is going to refuse it, he is not!

Before you can have a mental breakdown at the dinner table, Jean leans over slightly and looks at Jamie with a gentle and wide-eyed expression, child-like, engaging.

“Did you also know that all the good kids on Santa’s nice list eat vegetables?”

Mid-mumble, Jamie freezes, looking at Uncle Jean. “Really?” Intonation, his voice is so high.

Jean nods. “Mhm! Santa said that if you eat your veggies and say thank you to whoever made you the meal, he’ll bring you anything you want on Christmas Day. Don’t you wanna be on the good list?”

Jamie nods furiously. “Yep! Uncle Jean, that’s so cool, you know Santa!”

(4)

Splash.

“Careful, honey, don’t get the floor all wet.”

“Sorry, Auntie Y/N. It was the ducky’s fault!”

Bath time is a chore, surprisingly harder than it was when they were babies and needed extra attention in the water. Marcel sits solo in the bathtub, the sound of Freddie and Jamie running around in the bedroom an ambience as you crouch by the tub and help Marcel get clean.

Maria is the only child clean and patient, so calm and cute and cuddly and ready to go to sleep the second her bathtime is over. Jean groans somewhere in the apartment, keeping the twins entertained while Marcel finishes up.

“O-kay,” you say, after a few minutes of helping wash away some suspicious chocolate stains off his arms. Most likely super-cool-Uncle-Jean gave them something extra after dessert, and honestly, that wouldn’t surprise you if it were true. “All done! Feel better?”

Marcel nods, letting the duck float away. “Yep. I’m cold.”

“Once you’re dry and changed, we can put on the heating and finish up watching Cars, does that sound okay?”

“That sounds fun, Auntie Y/N! You’re the bestest,” he grins, and you grin too, because honestly, you’re taking coolness points in gasps, and anything to prove you’re not some grouchy unfun Aunt is welcomed and encouraged.

Marcel doesn’t make a fuss as he gets dried, shuddering for extra effect and happily snuggling into his duck onesie once everything is dry and ready for him to get changed.

Marcel is a human rocket. He hops into his onesie and races back into the living room, reaching his final destination of Uncle Jean as a loud groan fills the house, likely due to the fact that Marcel has jumped on top of his Uncle, like he always does, just to get the reaction.

You sniff, leaning to flush the toilet because apparently they haven’t quite mastered that one yet, and drain the bathtub. The floor sits wet, pooling like an extra tub or the floor of a shower and you sigh, grabbing an extra towel off the rack to soak up the bathwater, the low bubbling sound of the water disappearing briefly out-yelling the terrorsome three out in the living room.

“Need any help, honey?”

Behind you, Jean appears in the doorway, not quite in and not quite out. He hovers, waiting patiently to see if he can find an excuse to stop being a couch for the three kids. You lean over the bathtub, taking out their small toys and setting them on the side with hopes that they will dry overnight.

“Nah, I’m okay,” you tell him, looking over your shoulder with a smile. Jean stands there, having changed, in an oversized jumper and sweats. “What are they doing?”

“Fighting,” Jean says. “I’d break it up, but I wanna see if they’ll learn their lesson once they get hurt.”

“That’s perfect. But fucked. Are we fucked up?”

Jean shrugs. “Worked for me and my cousins when we were younger. I turned out okay!”

You look at him for a moment with a bewildered look. “Sure, if that’s what you want to call it.”

The bathtub makes a gurgle, the water gone and you crouch to pick up the bathmat, hanging it over the small radiator for it to dry faster. Jean then takes several steps backwards as you meet him outside, his smile widening as you close the door and turn off the light, falling into his arms with a soft thud and sigh. His arms wrap around you sweetly, warm and tight, like home.

Jean likes weekends for the moments he gets to spend with you, but today, he’s barely seen you in his own home. Longing- Jean tightens his arms around you and presses his lips to the crown of your head, gently swaying you from side to side like a waltz. He knows you feel the same way, the same kind of tired and wanting energy, as your arms lock around him tighter.

“Come on,” Jean mutters, pouting slightly when you pull out of his embrace and glance up at him. He exaggerates it, humming, and then leaning to press his lips to yours.

Moments after he pulls away, he comes back in for another, and another, his hands molded behind your back.

“Love you,” he adds in between one kiss, and you hum in reply. It’s enough.

There’s a pitter-patter of feet. “Ewwww! Auntie Y/N and Uncle Jean are having sex!”

You pull away from Jean with such speed that it might give you whiplash; Jamie stands looking slightly horrified in the hallway, near the door to the living room, proud of his rising of ews that follow from his siblings near the TV.

“Don’t say that! Where did you even learn that word?” you gasp, moving towards the five year old.

Jamie shrugs. “Heard it at Mommy’s birthday party. Uncle Reiner said it.”

You sigh knowingly. “Should have known.”

“Please don’t go around saying that when your Mom and Dad come to get you,” Jean adds in, looking flustered from behind you.

(5)

The bathroom light switches off. Jean closes the door and rubs his face, groaning out aches from his shoulders as he approaches the bed, shirtless, his toes curling into the carpet.

“I swear they weren’t that crazy last time we looked after them,” Jean says, sinking onto the bed. “Have they always been like that? Am I the crazy one?”

“It’s this scary thing called growing up,” you reply, sitting back against your pillows with your phone in your hands, the screen lighting up with new messages from your sister. “Can’t believe you got them to go to sleep without any trouble. It’s giving me baby-fever…”

“I’m gonna have to ask you to slow down,” replies Jean, sounding winded.

“Everytime you hang out with them, it just proves to me how good you are with kids, and how, you know, someday you might be a Dad and- ugh, you’re gonna be great,” you sigh, followed by Jean grunting with amusement and shuffling to lay right beside you, his nose on your arm.

You set your phone down, turning to match together against him like a puzzle. “They’re not shy when it comes to picking favourites. God, they really hate me.”

Jean rolls his eyes, “No, they don’t. They love you- you’re so good with looking after them. If I was doing all this alone, there’s no doubt I’d probs forget to feed them at dinner time. I’d straight up order a pizza and forget that kids need certain foods to grow up.”

Laughter suffices as a reply, and that’s that for a little bit. In his head, Jean wants to talk all about how great of a Mom you’ll be, how amazing it would be for him to watch you raise children, his children.

He doesn’t say any of these things, because he’s one-hundred-percent certain that you know it all already, and that you’re just modest and insecure about it. So, Jean hums and pulls you closer for a hug, smooching your lips when you’re close enough.

The door is closed. The four kids are sleeping, Maria so deep in sleep that not even her brothers could wake her up if they screamed. Jean knows this. You know this. So, he moves his hand from your back to your ass, feeling the curve, feeling the smile against his teeth.

“Stop, our niece and nephews are next door,” you warn him, quietly, mumbles against his mouth. Jean smirks, gently nipping your bottom lip with his teeth and pushing his head into your neck.

“And it would suck to wake them up,” Jean replies, worming his way into places hot and inviting. “So, keep it quiet, yeah?”

You huff, rolling to your back and parting your legs as Jean slots in between. “I love when you get bossy on an evening,” you say to mock him and he laughs quietly.

“I love you,” he breathes.

(6)

“And they were good?”

Jean and yourself share a glance.

“Golden,” you say.

Your sister stands in the kitchen, giving you both the stink eye while the three older kids race around the house, excited at the fact their cool parents are home three days later.

Honestly, she knows you’re lying, because these are her kids and she knows them better than anybody.

Anyway, she shrugs. “They must always be good for you guys. You can babysit more often.”

Jean tenses in his seat. He loves these kids but, holy fuck, the thought of looking after them again so soon makes him want to throw up. If there is one thing Jean has learnt from looking after three wild rampaging children and one angelic princess baby- but, again, he has no favouritism!- it’s that it is absolutely harder than it looks.

It’s not enough to put him off though.

(7)

[5:45pm] Mean Sibling #1: Tell me why Jamie is talking about how you and Jean had sex [5:46pm] You: OMG THATS NOT TRUE [5:46pm] You: well, i mean… [5:46pm] You: not in front of them !!!! what kind of aunt do you think i am????? [5:49pm] Mean Sibling #1: How does he even know what sex means….how does he know that word [5:50pm] Mean Sibling #1: Hubby is laughing at me. what does my husband know that i don’t [5:52pm] You: that sounds like a you problem [5:54pm] Mean Sibling #1: ok well sorry for accusing you :P gotta give my FIVE YEAR OLD a talk….dear fucking god [5:59pm] Mean Sibling #1: wait a damn second wtf do you mean NOT IN FRONT OF THEM??? [6:00pm] Mean Sibling #1: Y/N ANSWER UR PHONE [6:01pm] Mean Sibling #1: Y/N [6:03pm] Mean Sibling #1: fucker

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Timestuck AU: The Power of Mabel ch.7 (finale)

While fighting over a time machine so one twin can win a pig or the other can win the heart of a girl, Mabel is left stranded in a snowy forest with no time machine and no brother. Oops.

ch.6

AO3 link

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford sat on the kitchen floor with his back against the cupboards, clinging to his knees, his glasses still in hand. His throat was sore and his eyes hurt and his nose was runny and his heart was raw and broken, and yet he wasn’t done crying. Though he was done sobbing and occasionally crying so hard he thought he would throw up, free-flowing tears still streamed down his face as he hid the bottom-half of his head in his beefy arms. 

“What do we do now?” He moaned.

Stan looked at the know-it-all who didn’t have a clue. He sighed and moved to sit next to him, his back against the cupboard and his knees up by his chest as he combed his mullet. “I dunno… Sit here and die?”

Ford hiccuped a cruel laugh and buried his face in his arms fully. “I wish I could.”

Stan snorted. “What’s that saying? The good die young?”

Ford groaned and started to sob again. 

Stan rubbed his back, his head against the cupboard and he looked up at the ceiling. “O-Okay, okay… Let’s think about this. So we never made up, or something else really bad happened between us, and that’s the timeline Mabel was from, right?”

“Right.” Ford gruffed, lifting his head up and rubbing his eyes dry.

“So, since that didn’t happen, or it happened differently… B-But that doesn’t mean she’s… She’ll still exist in our timeline, won’t she? She’s gonna be okay?” He asked the scientist, digging for some kind of hope.

Ford sighed and rested his cleft chin on his arms. “As long as what happened didn’t interfere with Alex’s life too much… Which I don’t know how it could… Mabel and Dipper should still be born in 1999. There’s a small possibility they’ll be different than what they once were, or because of some unseen butterfly effect, their birth might be different or might not happen at all… But…”

The eldest by fifteen minutes slipped his glasses back on, stood, and said stubbornly, “I’m going to do what I can to ensure it is a better future than what the kids had. Our entire family was broken because of what we did and didn’t do. Clearly either one of us went insane or died or something horrible, and I won’t allow that to happen.”

“I don’t think we gotta worry too much about that happening.” Stan said from down on the floor. “I mean, if Mabel changed things so much that an entire reality changed, then we don’t really gotta do much except not screw this up.”

Ford laughed and held out a hand to his twin, who gladly clasped it and stood. “You’re right.”

But the men were disheartened to finally notice the mess in the kitchen. Mabel’s cake batter sat on the flour-dusted counter, the oven was hot and ready for baking, and the muffin tray was on the floor from where Mabel dropped it. Ford looked down at the sweater he was wearing - the sweater she had knitted for him - and without a word he walked to the living room and saw Mabel’s knitting sitting on the couch where she had left it, a completed red sweater with a golden heart on it.

Ford smiled mournfully and held the sweater as Stan joined him and gasped at the sweater. The big brother held it out to the little brother and croaked, “We’ll see her again.”

Stan smiled, cleared his throat, and took off his hoodie and snagged the new sweater to slip it over his old white t-shirt. “Yeah.”

~~~~~~~~~~

July 22nd, 1980

Ford held the lantern up to better read the writing in the cave. He peered at it and was intrigued by a description of a being with answers. It would be summoned if he read out-loud, and though there were many clear warnings against this, the desperate scientist was extremely tempted.

“Sixer! Let’s move before we get caved in or some shit.” Stan called as he walked up to Ford. “What are you reading, cavemen graffiti?”

“Look, Stanley, there are tales of an all-knowing being with answers. It could help me with my theory…”

“Nope.” Stan grabbed Ford by the collar of his trenchcoat and dragged him away like dragging a child out of a toy store.

“Stanley! Let me go!”

“That shit’s got bad voodoo written all over it! You’ve gotta be inhaling toxic cave gas or something to think summoning a demon is a good idea!”

“We don’t know it’s a demon.”

“Really? Then why does that wall read in old blood ‘Do not summon demon!’?”

“Huh. Well, um…”

“That’s what I thought, now don’t make me pick you up and carry you. Let’s move.” And he lightly shoved Ford forward to lead the walk away from the cave and through the tunnels for sunlight.

~~~~~~~~~~

Alex’s wedding was wonderful and a joyous day, but it also made Ford and Stan nervous. They both agreed not to say a word to anyone (as far as Fiddleford knew, Ford had found the girl’s parents and all was over and ended well), and white they were happy to be one step closer to meeting the kids, they were slightly worried that something might be different than Mabel’s timeline.

She never told them her mother’s name. Did Alex marry someone else? Did they marry at the correct time? There was no way of telling, and they both agreed to allow themselves to enjoy the day and maybe drink a little. Or a lot. 

~~~~~~~~~~

When Shermie called and told them that Alex and Dana were going to have a baby, Ford choked on his coffee and Stan dropped the phone. They silently exchanged looks and were terrified that there was only one baby. But it was seven months before the end of August, so maybe the new parents were choosing to keep everything a surprise. Knowing Alex, that is something he would do, especially if there were twins. A beautiful surprise for his twin uncles.

So they congratulated Shermie and made him swear to call them if anything happened so they could be there. And despite their fear, they were very joyous of becoming grunkles again.

~~~~~~~~~~

August 31st, 1999

The entire week leading up to the day, the men were incredibly anxious. The birthday was on 31st, which meant Dipper and Mabel could be born at 1am on the 31st, or 11pm on the 31st. They had no way of knowing, but as long as that damn telephone stayed silent, they weren't leaving the house all weekend. Neither of them slept the night of the 30th, just in case.

Finally, a little after coffee on the 31st, the phone rang. Both Ford and Stan tackled each other and fought for it, but Stan sat on Ford and grabbed it first.

“Stanley, get off me!”

“Stanley, what are you doing to your brother?” Shermie chuckled on the other end.

“Nevermind that, Sherm!” Stan laughed. “What’s going on with you?” He asked casually, though he smiled down at Ford, who smiled back, despite still being sat on in the kitchen.

“Well, you guys know I’m gonna be a grandpa soon…”

“Really? Had no idea.” Stan said sarcastically as he stood up to get off Ford. “So? Is it happening now?!” Ford ran down the hall.

Shermie laughed. “Yup. I just got here myself and Alex and Dana got here about twenty minutes ago.”

“Piedmont Hospital, right?”

“Right.”

“We’ll be there in six hours.”

“It’s an eight hour drive!”

“I said six hours!”

“STANL-” But Stan hung up the phone.

Stan hurried up to his attic bedroom and dressed in his baby-blue Hawaiian shirt and slacks, while also grabbing a suitcase he’s had ready all week, prepared to stay as long as Alex and Dana needed him.

He ran back downstairs with suitcase in hand, with Ford by the door, and they sprinted into the Stanmobile and drove down the road.

~~~~~~~~~~

Shermie was waiting for them in the hall, beaming with joy, and his little brothers ran to him for a tackle-hug.

“Good to see you, Grandpa!”

“Congratulations, Shermie!”

“Thank you, thank you!”

“Did we miss it?!” Stan asked. “Has it happened yet?!”

Shermie grinned and nodded. “Yes, everyone is safe and fine.” And he opened the door.

The aged explorers beamed (and no, they weren’t crying) to find Alex holding one baby and Dana holding another baby. The eldest pair of twins high-sixed and cheered and then gently approached the little ones, beaming down at them.

It was like they had been holding their breath for twenty years, and now they could finally breathe.

“What are their names?” Ford asked quietly, seeing how each newborn was sleeping soundly.

“This is Mabel,” Alex introduced, giving the bundle to Stan.

“And this is Mason.” Dana said tiredly, giving her son to Ford to hold.

Stan and Ford were a bit concerned with the name change, but one look at the baby boy relaxed them. Of course a name like Dipper was a nickname.

“Matching names, huh?” Stan asked cheekily, cradling Mabel and looking down at her with shining brown eyes.

“We couldn’t help ourselves.” Alex chuckled.

Ford’s eyes were glued to Mason. While of course he had been dying to see Mabel again, he had also been excited to meet his science-loving nephew. He was so cute and small in his polydactyl hands and Ford knew it would take a lot more strength than what he had to let him go.

The author tore his eyes away to see his twin looking down at Mabel with tears in his eyes, holding her close to his heart and trying really hard to hold it together, but his joy and peace was far stronger than any bad habits that stopped him from showing his emotions. Stan lightly kissed Mabel’s cheek and Ford saw his lips barely move, though he didn’t hear what he said. Which was fine by him. Ford smiled back down at Mason, finally content.

No one heard him say it, thank Moses, but Stan couldn’t help himself. He had whispered to his niece as quiet as a mouse, “I’ve missed you, pumpkin.”

And finally, after all these years, the small hole in the boys’ hearts could be filled.

THE END!

[intercoursefluids]

Marry Me Part 2 (Final)

The morning after Damian proposed he went looking for his brother and stepmother. (She had a knack for finding beautiful jewels and Dick was a hopeless romantic and would kill him if he didn’t let him help.

“Grayson, Selina, I require your assistance with something and no it cannot wait.”

They both look up at him from the living room couch, watching the news.

“Where’s Marinette? You never come down without her.”

Selina looks behind him as if she was hiding behind his larger frame.

“She's still asleep and will remain that way until at least noon since she stayed up till an ungodly number calling her friends and family back in Paris, but that is not important now. (He says obviously irritated at her unhealthy sleeping schedule) Last night I may have made a spontaneous decision and need your help with the next step.”

Selina and Dick both look at him questiongly knowing damn well what he's talking about.

“Do you regret it?” (Dick)

“Did you get her pregnant?” (Selina)

Damian sputters for a moment his face turning red.

“The answer is no to both questions. Just get dressed and meet me outside.”

He walks away muttering about how Selina ‘has no sense of shame’ and how Dick ‘was an idiot to think he’d ever regret it’.

Dick and Selina both share a smile before getting ready and meeting an impatient Damian outside.

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

“I proposed to Marinette last night and I want your help picking out her ring.”

Damian immediately exits the car and heads inside as his brother and stepmothers excited squeals fill the air.

Soon after he starts browsing they both join him looking for the perfect ring to give to her.

After an hour of searching Damian looks up, waving both of them over.

“What about this one?

Selina comes over first, immediately nodding her approval.

“Oh yeah, a little subtle for my taste but Marinette will love it.”

Dick immediately agrees, cooing over how cute this whole thing is and tearing up that his ‘baby brother is going to get married and he will have little nieces and nephews running around in a few years’.

Damian completely ignores him calling over a worker to get the ring in the correct size before buying it. Walking out with the simple diamond ring with pink accents on both sides of the diamond in its velvet black box.

“Okay, before we get back home where you have access to your katana I need to tell you something.”

Damian pauses at the car turning to face his brother.

“I messed up really bad this time and I’m very sorry. I was snooping around last night trying to get pictures of you and Mari being all sweet together like I usually do, but Jason, Selina, and Tim all saw me at different times and decided to watch and take pictures and videos too. I posted a bunch of the pictures to what I thought was my private Twitter like I do when you two do something especially sweet, but it wasn’t my private one and I couldn’t tell because I was crying too hard. I’m really sorry, Damian.”

Dick sucks in a deep breath after his ramble refusing to look up and meet his little brother's eyes until a loud groan followed by a thud makes him.

Damian smacks his head against the roof of the car several times more before letting out another groan and looking at his favorite least annoying brother.

“You’re lucky that I’m still in too much of a good mood to want to kill you right now. Get in the car, I want to get back before Marinette wakes up and it's already around 10.”

Happily counting his blessings even though he's low-key terrified Dick hops in the back seat and lets Selina take the front.

The drive rather quickly and Damian wastes not time in running to his room where he left his Angel.

He breathes a sigh of relief noticing she's still very much asleep. Running back downstairs he makes her a plate of breakfast and grabs a platter to fill with food for all of the kwamis.

Rushing back up to the room he sets the tray on the nightstand before going over to her side, brushing some hair out of her face, making her grumble and burrow deeper into the covers in an attempt to stay asleep.

He laughs softly sitting down beside her stroking her cheekbone.

“Angel, wake up. I brought you breakfast.”

She grumbles, reaching out from the covers to wrap his arms around her waist and snuggling into his side.

“At least let me put the ring on you. I need to talk with Grayson anyway.”

She thrusts out her left hand, still refusing to open her eyes.

He sighs, sliding the ring on her left finger and placing a kiss to her forehead before standing up to leave.

“I love you, Habibiti.”

The following noise that is probably an ‘I love you too’ but could also be a ‘shut the door’ is the only response he gets before he goes to find his brother(s).”

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

“Grayson, Todd, Drake, you three are fixing this entire internet mess that you started and that is final.”

Sounds of protest erupt from the room as he takes his leave to feed the animals.

“Hold up! Dickie-bird is the one who fucked up, why do we have to fix it?!”

Jason pulls him back by his hoodie, thoroughly pissing him off, to face them again.

“Because, Grayson would be too emotional and sappy and just humiliate himself and make the situation worse, Drake knows how to navigate the internet better than the rest of us and, you are always happy to talk about Marinette and I need you to keep Drake awake long enough to fix this.”

Jason nods his head accepting the explanation when Tim interrupts.

“And why can’t you do it?”

A smile that puts all three brothers on edge takes over his face.

“I have a wedding to plan.”

Followed by him immediately shutting the door and going about his chores.

BONUS:

*Marinette wakes up, eats breakfast and changes before noticing the new rind on her left finger*

Marinette: HOLY SHIT I’M GETTING MARRIED!

Marinette:JASON! JAY! I’M GETTING MARRIED!

Jason from down the hall: I KNOW! I WAS THERE WHEN HE PROPOSED!

*Marinette immediately calls her friends and family and start crying while Chloe, Adrien, Kagami, Alix, Kim, and Max all immediately buy plane tickets*

*Jagged cries and also buys plane tickets for him and Penny*

*Luka goes with Jagged*

BONUS 2:

*Two weeks before proposal*

*Marinette running to Jason (her self-proclaimed older brother) and jumping as he catches her*

Marinette: JAY!

Jason: PIXIE-POP!

*Damian groans setting her bag on the floor*

Damian: Must you two be so dramatic? You saw each other last month.

Jason: Piss off Demon Spawn! She's MY baby sister

*Cue pissed off and tired (because he was so excited to see Mari that he couldn’t fall asleep last night) Damian *

Damian: Yeah? Well she's MY wife

*Cue immediate pause and lots of blushing from aforementioned couple*

Damian: I meant fiancé!

Damian: NO! GIRLFRIEND! I meant GIRLFRIEND!

*Marinette exe. has stopped working*

*Damian rushes over and throws her over his shoulder*

Damian: I meant GIRLFRIEND, and you wipe that smile off your face Grayson!

*Damian runs to his room with Mari and eventually they fall asleep together while the batfam collectively loses their shit down stairs*

[atomicblasphemy]

Eda becomes some kind of flying taxi service

Amity: So I told Malphas he needed to have a talk with Gary about our coffee break space.

Emira: Mhmm.

Amity: I mean, for one, Gary never cleans after himself. Like, I once saw him leaving his mug dirty for over a week. A WEEK. It was disgusting. It was just sitting dare on the table for days. I didn’t want to clean it, I’m not a doormate. But it was dire and I had no choice. And don’t get me started on the fridge situation. My lunch has been getting smaller by the day and I can’t seem to figure out the culprit.

Emira: That’s nice, Mittens. Isn’t it nice, Edric?

Edric: What?

Amity: Will you guys pay attention? I need some advice on...

*Windows cracking”

Edric: What the...

Hooty: AMITY FELICITY BLIGHT! IT IS I, HOOTCIFER, HARBINGER OF THY DESTINY. COME WITH ME AND I SHALL REVEAL WHAT JOYS THE FUTURE HOLDS FOR THEE.

Amity: I... What?

Hooty: DOTH THOU DARE DEFY FATE? *Swallows Amity*

Emira: ... What just happened? Wasn’t that Eda’s house demon? You know, the one we met before Grom?

Edric: I think it was. I’m not sure though, he sounded more... ominous...

SEVERAL EMOTIONAL MOMENTS LATER

Luz: It’s early... Do you really have to go already?

Amity: Yeah... I still have to finish homework, and I have work tomorrow. But I’ll come back here tomorrow... If you’re okay with it, that is...

Luz: YES! I mean... yeah, I’d love that...

Amity: Anyway... I guess I should get going, we’re not exactly neighbors after all. See you tomorrow then.

Luz: Wait, I have an idea. *Turns around* EDA!

Eda: *Not stopping her flight practice* What?

Luz: Do you think you could give Amity a lift back to her place?

Eda: Oh? Not walking your girlfriend home? Thought you’d be more chivalrous.

Luz: *Showing that Amity’s tomato like properties are infectious* EDAAA!

Eda: Sorry, sorry. But yeah, sure. *Picks up Amity and flies away at neckbreaking speeds. She soon slows down to a more reasonable pace* So... Amity, before I give you that whole “What are your intentions?” scare there’s something I’ve been itching to ask you. What made you chose to dye your hair of all colors, and how did Odd-alia react?

Amity: Luz... Me... Girlfriend...

Eda: Ugh... Don’t make me regret making harmless fun of young love, kiddo.

ONE AWKWARD TAXI EDA FLYING SESSION LATER.

Eda: *Placing Amity on the Blight Manor’s front porch and looking at the two bewildered faces watching her* Sup. *Turns to fly away* Oh right, I guess purple here is in not in the mental state to give any explanations.

Amity: Small ceremony... Human realm... Only friends and family... Boscha is not invited...

Emira: Are you... Edalyn Clawthorne?

Eda: Last I checked I was.

Emira: You look different.

Eda: Oh right... Look, it was a very eventful night so let me start with the simpler one. King, you remember him, right? Tiny, angry, looks like a cat, was the MC at the last Grom along with Goops.

Emira and Edirc: Yeah...?

Eda: He’s harnessing all the powers of yelling. I guess all children his age kinda do that but he went above and beyond and actually learned how to make things go boom with his voice alone, and that’s why both Luz and your sister are still alive. And now I’m realizing I should probably go hide all those Death Metal records I got in human realm. Can’t risk turning my son into a weapon of mass destruction. Not yet.

Edric: That’s... nice... I guess?

Emira: How about Mittens?

Eda: Right. She and Luz are an item now. It was adorable, I called her Luz’s girlfriend then I think it finally really hit her and that made her go all catatonic on me. Sorry about that.

Edric: WHAT?

Emira: Okay, okay... So came out with it? Ed and I have some scores to settle.

Eda: I... Both, I guess? I don’t know, it was sort of at the same time. But I don’t want to spoil it for when she recovers. So I guess us three are kinda family now, huh? Tangentially at least, like you’re my nephew and niece-in-law or something like that, I don’t know.

Eda: The important thing is: there’s a huge waterway under my house and I think it is actually part of my property. Now I need to figure out a way to find out how big that place actually is without letting town hall know so my taxes won’t go up. Can’t push my tax evasion skills. I mean, can you imagine it? The Owl Lady, the most successful outlaw in Boiling Isles history: arrested for fiscal crimes.

Emira: Okay... That’s... cool.

Edric: Yeah... Not to pry though, but what happened to you?

Eda: Oh... Me? I got very high. Not on purpose. Then I became a Harpy. Also not on purpose.

Emira: ... I’m sorry but I’m not following the cause and effect relation between those thing.

Eda: Neither am I. All I remember is: Hooty spiked some cookies; I revisited that time I gauged out my dad’s eye, also not on purpose; then when I push my ex away (You know, Raine Whispers, current head of the Bard Coven, lead a small revolutionary guerrilla, now under mind control. Oh, yeah, guess they’d make to sure to keep it under wraps, anyway...)

Eda: Then it got pretty weird. I got trapped by this tall hooded sun and moon figure and I’m not sure whether that was an actual memory (I did get arrested a few time after all) or if it was just a hallucinogenics induced manifestation of the subconscious trauma of being persecuted for years by the state. Anyone’s guess to which was it.

Eda: And then I became Icarus, fell into the sea, and became a piece of paper. Then I was at the beach, the piece of paper was also there, but that’s not important... I hope... Anyway, so, my curse was there too an for a moment there I thought we were gonna play some chess, but nah.

Eda: I did have an epiphany though. The sky changed colors and now I’m a Harpy. Gotta a lot of stuff to process right.

Edric: *Wide eyed and mouth agape* Mother of Titan...

Emira: *Same as her brother* Do you... need a hug or something?

Eda: Ehh... Don’t worry, I’ll get through. I mean, I’m a badass Harpy woman now, what else could I want? I appreciate the thought though. Anyway, I’ll get going, Luz has probably been stuck in the same place ever since I left. Was nice seeing you guys. *Turns around*

Edric: WAIT, EDA.

Eda: Yeah? What is it?

Edric: Can you take me flying a little bit like you did Mittens? Pretty please?

Emira: *Elbowing her brother* EDRIC!

Edric: What? There’s a tall and friendly winged lady standing in our front porch and calling us family...

Eda: Kinda family.

Edric: Kinda family. And we only went flying, on dad’s staff mind you, like twice. And I mean, look at her. That’s clearly a person with next to no regard for speed limits or any form of flying safety. *Turns to Eda* I mean that as the highest of compliments, by the way.

Eda: *Nodding and smiling* Well, I’m not one to brag... But you’re on point there.

Edric: *Turning back to Emira* See? It will be fun. *Turns back to Eda while making puppy eyes* So, pretty pretty please?

Eda: Eh... What the heck, why not? I do need to get a better hold of this flying thing after all. Fair warning though, I only had these for about an hour, I’m not taking responsibility for any loss of limb or life. *Picks Edric up and place him on one of her shoulders and turns to Emira.* You sure you don’t wanna come with? There’s plenty of room.

Emira: ... I never said I didn’t want to...

Eda: *Placing Emira on her other shoulder* Alritty then, make sure to hold on tight to my hair, just don’t fall into it. Can’t promise I’ll find you if you do. And up we go. *Takes off at neckbreaking speed*

Eda: So... I tried that to Mittens herself, but she was too lost in elation to form coherent sentences. What’s the deal with her hair color change? Why did she pick that specific shade of... pink? Lavender? Purple? Whatever, I was a tad curious about that choice coming from one of Odd-alia’s offspring. So either of you can shed some light on it for me?

Emira: Eh, what can I say? Our little Mittens is growing up, coming out of her shell. I mean, if you told me a month that she’d have a girlfriend by now I’d call it bullshit. Though I would have guessed Luz as being the most likely candidate. In any case, I’m pretty proud of the steps our baby sister is taking, not gonna lie.

Edric: Yeah... Same. But I can’t shake the feeling that it is at least in part an act of rebellion against mom. She did always have that weird fixation with Amity’s hair after all...

Eda: Hum, I see. This actually takes me to my follow up question. How did your mom react when she saw it?

Edric: *chuckling* Oh, I thought she’d have a stroke right then and there.

Emira: Yup. Never saw mom that mad. You’d think the two of us would be the ones to cause it but nope, Mittens beat us to it. Again, I’m a proud big sister.

Eda: Hehehe Sounds about right. You two are the troublemaking type then huh?

Edric: That’s a way of putting.

Emira: We like thinking of ourselves as practical entertainers however. We are in the Illusions track so it comes with the territory. Buuut...

Edric: We indulge in some prankery every now and then, and there’s no one better at it than us.

Eda: Is that so? Ever get in trouble for it?

Edric: Sometimes... When we (kind of accidentally) cause more property damage than intended because SOMEONE botched their end of the spell and caused Bump’s office to almost go up in flames.

Emira: Awww. Ed, I told you already. Don’t beat yourself over it. Accidents happen. You’ll do better next time.

Edric: HEY!

Emira: Anyway, Eda. Why were you asking about Mittens’ hair?

Eda: Oh... You guys are going to love this. I think. Anyway, did you know that me and your parents attended Hexside at the same time?

Edric: Yeah, I remember mom seeing one of your wanted posters a while back and calling you “Ewdalyn Clownthorne” or something like that.

Eda: Ah, haven’t heard that in a minute, Titan those were the day. Anyway, as you might have guessed by now me and your mother we... had a bit of a rivalry. Unfortunately, I couldn’t top the nickname she gave me, best I could do was Odd-alia. No offense, but Blight doesn’t give much to work with in terms of puns, can’t get funnier than that. Especially when thrown at her.

Emira: None taken. And yeah. I mean, it is fun when people call us stuff like “The Blights of Hexside”. But it is kinda sad to know we’ll never get a nickname as cool as Owl Lady or Lord Calamity.

Eda: Oh, my fame still precedes me huh? You know, I think the three of us will get along just fine.

Edric and Emira: Yup, we sure will.

Eda: Anyway, flattery aside... Part of the reason why I love poking your mom with a short stick was, other than how aggravated she’d get and how surprisingly good at paying in kind she was, the fact that she was in the Oracle track. You see, that made her a challenge. And given how she would actually prank me back (successfully, mind you, I have no shame in admitting that) I feel like like we actually a weird sort of friends, or at least we reached some kind of agreement that we were fair game for each other. And trust me, she was ruthless, and very good at escalating things.

Emira: Wow...

Edric: That sounds nothing like the mom we know. Other than the ruthless or the escalation part, that is still true.

Eda: Yeah, anyway. Part of our little game was keeping it hidden. Neither your dad or my sister actually ever realized what was going on until... well, I’ll get to that.

Eda: Anyway, so some lovely day I notice how weirdly obsessed with her hair Odd-alia was. This gives me some ideas, but I know I have make this the mother of pranks, so I decided to just keep a watch, to figure out what the best way to go about it would be. And I was also making those smaller pranks, something to throw her Oracle powers off-balance, you know?

Eda: Well... Back in the day your mother wasn’t monochromatic as she is nowadays. She’d circle through all colors you can think off on her accessories (which she used an ungodly amount, and no judgement it just never seems physically possible). But I noticed that there was one very specific color that she never got anywhere near her.

Edric and Emira: No way...

Eda: And as I said, she was weirdly obsessed with her hair... And as top student of the Potions track making hair dye was child’s play for me... So... do the math... And guess what very specific color was? I may be bad at color names, but I won’t ever, EVER, forget that particular shade.

Edric and Emira: No... freaking... way...

Eda: Yes... freaking... way... I mean, seriously, the first time I saw Amity’s new hair I had to do a double take. The resemblance was just too uncanny.

Emira: And what did she do?

Eda: Well... For a couple weeks there I thought I’d have to place a restriction order on her or something like that. Ultimately the two of us, along with Lilith and Alador (they were our attorneys, no they were not qualified for the role.) sitting across from each other in a very formal looking table, signing a contract. An actual freaking contract setting clear limits to our mutual pranks, like what was off limits like her hair or my then partner, how long was the maximum period a prank could last, so on. Surprisingly enough that was Al’s idea.

Eda: And let me tell you, that was probably the toughest negotiation I ever been a part of. Shame it was not long before I dropped out so never could really put it to use. You know, sometime I think this actually made Odd-alia realize she wanted to be a business woman. I mean, before that she’d go off about how she’d join the Emperor’s Coven all the damn time.

Edric: Wow...

Emira: I second that. Really, wish I had brought something I could take notes on. You completely blown anything we ever did out of the water.

Edric: No wonder she never told us that. You know what? I think I’m dying my hair that color first thing tomorrow.

Emira: Can we tell Amity this story?

Eda: Are you two actually thinking of antagonizing her? Are you crazy? First off, she’s your mother, she holds power over you. All you’d accomplish is getting grounded. Not to mention that she has decades of experience on you, even if she wasn’t your mom, she’d demolish the two of you. No offense, you’re still young, naive, you lack guidance in the ways of the pranksters.

Edric and Emira: *Dejectedly* Ohh... You’re right...

Eda: Hey... Don’t look so gloomy. I see a lot of potential in you, in both of you. *Sighs* I can’t believe I’m gonna take more kids under my wing... But.... Have you guys ever heard of the Bad Girl Coven Initiative? We annoy our foes into submission.

Edric and Emira: WE’RE LISTENING.

Eda: Heh... We’ll get along just fine indeed.

[punkgrogg]

Doorway Duo pt. 1

Pairing: Hybrid!Taehyung x Reader, Hybrid!Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Hybrid!BTS, Non idol AU, fluff

Warnings: Pregnancy

Summary: Y/n was abandoned by her long time boyfriend and moves back home to help prepare for the baby. She’s surprised to find two unfamiliar hybrids at her house.

Length: 3,902 words

Notes: This is my first Hybrid story. Feedback would be greatly appreciated. I have two more parts outlined and will update as soon as possible because this quarantine has done nothing but give me time to write.

Date Posted: 4/24/2020

My hands cradled the ever-growing bump I have for a stomach. I still can’t believe I’m pregnant. If you would have told me four months ago I was going to be pregnant and alone I would have never believed you. I was in a loving relationship with my high-school sweetheart and we were against the world.

Until I found him pressed in between the legs of some random girl from his accounting class. That was three months ago- exactly a week before I found out I was pregnant. I let him know immediately and he admonished me for thinking he was the father. Apparently, there was no way he could be the father- we had only had sex four times in the past year. 

It only takes one time, I thought as I picked up the last of my bags. He had moved out of our apartment the week I found him cheating on me and I was more than capable of keeping the place myself but with a baby? No way. I knew nothing about being a mother and thankfully my parents insisted on me coming back home at the end of the semester so they could help me. I’d be finishing my degree online until I got more settled with the baby. 

Until. This was only temporary until I got my life back on track. 

This has been my mantra for the past few weeks. I’ve repeated it daily in hopes of quelling the anxiety of bringing in a new life. I repeat as I drive twenty minutes out of the city and back home. Parking in front of the house I grew up in, I can feel the dread knotting itself in my stomach. This made everything all the more real and I was scared. Scared to face my future. While I was battling my inner demons I never noticed Hoseok approaching the car until he pulled open my door.

“Y/n! You’re finally here!” he squealed as he awkwardly wrapped me up in a hug. My waist was pinned back against the seat with the seat-belt but he was pulling me out of the car. Hoseok was my adopted brother.  He was a hybrid my parents saved when we were both young and he’s been my brother ever since but most people don’t agree with my family’s ideology. 

“Hobi you’re hurting me.” I gasped and he instantly released me his fluffy black ears falling flat against his hair. I unbuckled before hopping out and wrapping him in the biggest hug possible. He welcomed the hug with a tightened grasp. I missed him. 

“How’s the baby?” I hear my mother call from the porch and Hoseok releases me. He reached past me into the car to pop the trunk before going to unload. I turn towards my mother to see two men beside her as they all make their way down the driveway. Both of the men were taller than Hoseok and like Hoseok they were hybrids. They seemed to be total opposites as far as their fashion choices went. Monochromatic would be the only way to describe their appearance; one an entirely dark presence- his clothes were tight and black from top to bottom, the other was a soft entity- his clothes were light, ashy gray that matched his hair.  They both walk past me and assist Hoseok without a glance towards me. My mother captures me in a warm hug.

“They’re doing fine and your baby is doing great too.” I finally answer, returning her hug. As we part, she lays her hand on my stomach with tears in her eyes.

“I swore Jinnie would give me my first grand-babies but here you are, breaking through every expectation once again.”

“I thought I would be an aunt before I was a mother too but I figured it’d be Joon. he was always the ladies’ man in high school.” I sighed exasperatedly. My other two older brothers were back in the city and have already started their careers. Seokjin was engaged and Namjoon was so focused on his career that I don’t think he’s been on a date since high school.

“Well, life has a funny way of making things happen. Have you found out the gender yet?”

“As I told you three days ago, they’re sitting weird and we can’t figure out what it is,” I said as we walked into the house. I could hear my dad in the kitchen, presumably cooking tacos from the smell of it. He was always the best cook in the house and insisted on cooking every meal. I followed the scent of cumin and sizzling beef as I could hear the pounding of feet up the stairs behind me.

“Baby girl, I’m making your favorite,” He says as he comes over for a quick side hug. As quick as he was here- he was gone. Back to tending to the tortillas and chopping the onions.

“I haven’t had tacos in forever, whenever I smelled any kind of beef I became nauseous,” I commented idly, my father’s face turning up in disgust and my mother’s showing sympathy.

“I couldn’t eat eggs for any of my pregnancies, especially during the first trimester.” she patted my shoulder gently and moved towards the fridge. I heard the stampeding feet once again and was quickly tugged into someone’s side.

“What’s my nephew’s name?” Hoseok asked loudly, his cheek pressed to the top of my head. I glanced quietly towards the doorway where the two men stood as still as a pair of statues while intently looking towards me.

“It might be a niece you’re getting.” I retorted while pulling myself away. I stepped towards the doorway duo with an outstretched hand. “Hi, I’m Y/n, sorry that no one else introduced us.”

The first one to shake my hand had broad shoulders and ashy gray hair. He had a long tail that reached the floor that was the same gray as his appearance but was accented by black spots. He held my hand gingerly and dipped his head towards me. “ I’m Taehyung, its nice to meet you.” His hand lingered as I turned to the next guy.

The second man had more muscles than I had ever seen on your average person. His face was jarring with the baby fat still clinging to his cheeks, he had short-cropped hair that accentuated his tall pointed ears. And unlike the first, he hesitated on taking my hand. 

“Jungkook,” He said tersely before shaking my hand once and dropping it like it was hot coals. 

“It’s nice to meet you both,” I said while stepping away once. Taehyung took a half step forward, his gaze still trapped on my face. Jungkook’s gaze was firmly focused on my stomach, an intense look that made my heart skip and subconsciously pull my hands forward to protect them. 

“You’re not going to ask?” Taehyung asked, his face screwed up in confusion. I could feel Hoseok’s presence towering behind me- his hand reaching up to grasp my shoulder. 

“Ask what?” My head cocked in confusion before realization dawned on me. “Oh, how rude of me. How was your day?” Hoseok chuckled from behind me before piping in.

“He meant asking what they were.” embarrassment made my face flush, how could I be so dense?

“Oh. Uh. Well, you can tell me if you want. I honestly don’t really care about that, I’m not too sure about what Hobi is.”

“Great Pyrenees. Goodness, you’d think after sixteen years you’d know that.”

“All I know is that you’re fluffy and a cuddle bug.”

“I’m a snow leopard hybrid.” Taehyung quickly interjected, his ears pointed up, they rose mere centimeters above his wild untamed curls. They were the same color as his ashy hair but had accents of black on the tips. 

“Really? That’s so cool, I’ve never met a snow leopard hybrid before.” He mirrored my smile, his eyes crinkling into feline-esque slits. Faint patches of freckles were mapped across his cheekbones, curling up around his eyes. 

“We’re as rare as our animal counterpart.” His eyes glanced quickly towards Jungkook meaningfully then flickered away just as fast. “Jungkook here is a German Shepherd hybrid.”

“Wow, that’s really cool.” Jungkook couldn’t meet my stare and quietly excused himself, high tailing his way back up the stairs. Taehyung ignored his retreating form and instead stepped into the kitchen, sitting at the counter. Hoseok followed after him relaxing  into the  second to last stool

“Sorry, he’s a bit apprehensive, Hoseok warned us about your pregnancy and that you might have crazy mood swings.” The gray man added conversationally, his eyes scanning over my face approvingly. He cracked a grin at the disbelief that spread across my face.

“Crazy what?” my father chuckled at my incredulous tone, “Hobi I will kill you.” I stepped towards him menacingly and he shot up off his perch.

“See Tae? It’s already happening. Mom, get your daughter.” he cried out as he circled around the counter towards mom.

He tried to duck behind her smirking form as I neared but he underestimated the drama mom lived for. “You only brought this on yourself, honey.” She flitted over to dad’s side and taste-tested the corn salsa.

“Who’s gonna save you now?” I smirked at him as I crept closer, my hands poised to pinch the ever-loving shit out of his cheeks.

“This isn’t fair, I can’t fight a pregnant woman,” Hobi whined as he resisted my efforts- his entire upper body leaning away from me.

“If either of you scoundrels hurt my grand-baby I will ground you both.” my dad intoned, halting both our figures. My hands cupping his face and his pushing against my shoulders lightly. Taehyung was laughing at us- he had melodic giggles.

“Taehyung dear, will you go tell Jungkook it’s time for dinner? Y/n and Hoseok go set the table.” Mom ordered and all three of us obeyed instantly. Hobi pulled a stack of plates out the cabinet and I rounded up the silverware. Taehyung was up the stairs by the time Hobi and left the kitchen and headed over to the dining room. I straightened out the red table mats and laid out a set of silverware while Hobi was a step behind me laying out his stack of plates. 

“So, all jokes aside, how has it been?” he asked as we finished up, I leaned heavily against the chair in front of me. It sucks. I’m about to be responsible for a whole person. I’m scared and alone.  Is what I thought but there was no way I could actually tell him that.

“Well, it’s not what I had planned but I’ll get through it. It’s weird being back here when I’ve been living in the city for the past three years.” A wry smile managed to take residence on my face.

“You’ll get used to it, and like you said you’ll get through it. Have you heard from him?” Hobi settled into the chair directly across from me. He started to fiddle with his spoon as I sunk down into my seat.

“No, and I don’t want to. He said he wasn’t the father and that he didn’t want to be.”

“Jin and I will still kick his ass if you want us to.” He was focused on the spoon in his hand, but I could tell that emotionally he was struggling. He was always the more empathetic of my brothers and showed to be more protective of our family at every turn. He was the first one I told when I found Henry was unfaithful and he was the first to know I was pregnant.

“No, it’s fine. We don’t need that loser anyway.” I smile at him, hoping to convey my appreciation to how he’s been so strong in supporting me. My eyes strayed up to the stairs, the question finally breaking through. “Uh, what’s with our two guests? Friends of yours from work?”

“No, the shelter caught on fire last week, and since mom and dad are certified for fostering they brought them in. Mom didn’t tell you?” Hoseok cocked his head to the side, his brows furrowed. 

“She didn’t but that sucks about the shelter. When will it be fixed?” The shelter was where hybrids could stay and be safe. And, as unfair as it is, where they could find their next home. Hybrids had a terrible history and humans were horrible when it came to them. Many held no regard for their hybrids- considering them no better than an animal. Thankfully by adolescence hybrids usually find their place in life and the shelter typically only houses kids being adopted out. There were cases where a family who could no longer provide the care for their hybrid had to surrender them to the shelter. Cases presumably like Taehyung and Jungkook.

“Boss said a couple of months until the renovations are all finished.” Hoseok was a volunteer at the shelter, he has been since high school. Hybrids weren’t allowed to work without the permission of their family (something that outrages our family to no end) and most could only work in volunteer positions. 

“Maybe they’ll finally fix the break room's window.” I teased, for as long as I can remember the window has been duct-taped together. No matter what- renovations or accidents being repaired- the window has remained duct-taped together.

“That window has been broken since Hoseok came into the family,” Dad chimed in as he swept into the room. He was carrying the frying pan full of steak in one hand and a table protector in the other. He laid it in the center of the table as Mom, Taehyung, and Jungkook followed behind with their arms full of the side dishes. 

“There’s always hope.” Retorted Hobi, ever the optimist.

“I highly doubt it- it’ll probably be the only thing missed by the renovations.” Dad shook his head, having lost hope on that window years ago.

“What’s being missed?” Mom asks, situating the chopped tomatoes and the tower of tortillas.

“The shelter’s break room window.” I supplied, helping pull out the chair to my right for her to sit. Jungkook settled in the seat in between Hoseok and my dad; Taehyung claimed the seat on the right of my mother. 

“Oh that thing has always been broken, I figured they’d fix it years ago. Anyway, Hoseok dear pass me the sour cream.” at that, we all settled into making our plates. 

“Dad, this is sublime, I’ve been living off of pizza and ramen for the past few months.” The taco was by far the best thing I’ve eaten in months. The seasonings and fresh ingredients almost overwhelming my poor college student tastebuds. Dad smiled down the table at me.

“Is that healthy for the baby?” Hoseok asked making a face of concern directed to my stomach. 

“You can worry about yourself- I already got an earful of complaints from mom about prenatal vitamins.” Jungkook snorted at the retort and smiled at me for the first time.

“Honestly what's the difference between prenatal vitamins and regular vitamins?” Taehyung asked, turning towards my mother and I. I shrugged and shoved another taco in my mouth. Mom said they were important and I believed her- plus my doctors said it was great when I had told him I was already taking the vitamins.

“They have more iron and other nutrients that pregnant women don’t get enough of.” Mom explained and Taehyung nodded thoughtfully.

“Pregnancy is so much work, I don't know how you did it three times mom.” Mom laughed at that- covering her face with a napkin. 

“Raising you four was way more work, pregnancy was a breeze compare to four teenagers.” She looked at me with pointed eyes. Ah, yes, the dreaded teenage years I would soon face. I grimaced at the thought of hormone-fueled years. Hopefully, I’ll have a daughter, I knew how girls worked throughout puberty.

“Hey, Namjoon wasn’t nearly as bad as the other three.” Dad defended, he was always on the defense of his supposed angel child.

“Joonie almost slept with the entire highschool our junior year and I’m surprised he even got through college without a baby,” Hobi interjected loudly causing Taehyung to laugh.

“No really, Jin, and I thought he was going to catch something.” He continued, turning towards the gray hybrid. His eyebrows were raised and his eyes expressed the utmost of sincerity.

“Your brother did not.” Mom joined the defense, her and dad believing the facade Joon had put up throughout our childhood. 

“That’s what you think, he was a sneaky little bastard.” I chimed in joining Hobi’s side. Jungkook and Taehyung were giggling to themselves watching us all bicker.

“Middle children always are,” Jungkook said joining the offensive.

“They’re nowhere near as spoiled as the youngest.” Hobi suddenly turned on me, the shock of betrayal apparent in my scoff.

“She’s the only girl, you guys never stood a chance.” The unexpected support form Taehyung had me smirking at my new enemy.

“It’s not my fault I’m the favorite,” I flipped my hair over my shoulder and leveled Hobi with a teasing glare.

“Seokjin might beat you there.” Mom rebuked, completely sideswiping me. 

“Hey! Does your grandchild mean nothing to you?” I cried out in mock surprise, Jin was mom’s angel child.

“Honey, we promised not to tell them.” 

“Honestly, high key offended but not surprised.” Hoseok shook his head as he continued on with his taco. The room dissolved into chatter as we finished dinner; I excused myself from the table to unpack. 

I slowly made my way up the stairs while taking the time to look at all the photos of my brothers and me throughout the years. My room was the first room at the top of the stairs- Hoseok’s was directly across. Namjoon and Seokjin’s rooms were the other two rooms but both have now turned into guest bedrooms ever since they graduated college. My room used to be our parents’ when we were really young but soon after bringing Hobi into the family, they renovated the garage into the master bedroom of their dreams.

My room was still the ugly lime green color that I begged my dad into painting it when I was in middle school. The furniture was a yellowing white and had layers of neon colors splattered on it. Coming home really incited the cringe-worthy memories of my early teen years- swore it was cool at some point. My suitcases and duffel bags were resting on my bed. I decided to shuffle my music while unpacking the impossible amounts of clothes I managed to pack. 

~~~~~~~~

“Now all your love is wasted, then who the hell was I?” I sang along, lost in the moment of hanging up all of my shirts. One bag remained after I finished my shirts- my underwear and socks. I was startled out of my peaceful reverie at the abrupt knock at my door. I whipped around to see Jungkook hesitating at my doorway with a shy smile. 

“Your mom asked me to bring this up to you,” he answered my unasked question and held out a plate with chocolate cake. My mouth watered just looking at it.

“Thank you Jungkook, just set it down on that dresser and I’ll get it when I finish this up “I waved towards the surface closest to him with the hanger in hand while hooking on a sweater. I watched him from the corner of my eye as he slowly stepped into the room and laid the cake on the dresser.

He stood in place while looking around at my room his gaze finally settling on the pile of luggage on the floor at the foot of my bed. “Do you need any help?”

“No,” My answer was quick and he seemed to flinch at it. To soften the unintended blow I smiled awkwardly, “but you’re more than welcome to hang out in here.”He meandered over to edge of the bed as I hung up the last shirt from my bag. It was silent as I shoved the bag off the bed and onto the pile of other emptied ones and made my way over to my cake. I hopped up onto the dresser to sit so I could face Jungkook while I ate. He avoided looking at my face and instead looked at the posters hung on my wall that were of artists that never really charted on any kind of chart.

“What kind of music are you into?”He looked at me quizzically as I finally broke the awkward silence between us.

“Well, that’s a tough question. A little bit of everything I guess, mainly pop if I had to settle on a genre.” I finished my cake and set it to the side as I smiled at him wildly.

“Me too, I kind of go in phases though, like it’ll be pop and then I’ll really get into 70s indie rock for a couple of weeks.” He softly grinned at my enthusiasm before snickering.

“You sound like Tae when he gets into his movies, it’ll be a week-long showing of all marvel films and then two months of obscure Buster Keaton films.” His tone sounded as if he’s experienced this far too many times to count.

“Buster Keaton was the shit though,” my proclamation was met with the horror of a man too well versed in debating Buster Keaton.

“Oh god, not another one.” he groaned, flopping back onto my bed. I laughed a little until he sat up again, his smile sobering me up.

“So how long have you and Taehyung known each other?” Were they from the same home before being placed in the shelter? It wasn’t that often that people were able to bond so well when in the shelter with how short their stays typically were.

“We have been roommates at the shelter for, I guess, about a year now. He’s my best friend.” Jungkook’s smile was the complete opposite of what should accompany that sentence. A month was the maximum I had ever heard of someone staying in the shelter. I schooled my features to not show the shock I felt.

“Who me? It better be me or else I’m chopping heads off.” Taehyung entered the room in the most dramatic way possible. Unlike Jungkook he hadn’t waited for an invitation and instead strutted into the room while Jungkook rolled his eyes at the theatrics.

“I hear you’re a fellow Keaton aficionado.” My statement caused him to falter in his stride, he quickly recovered with a beaming smile directed towards me.

“On occasion, noir is where my heart is truly.” His hand clutched at the thick gray cardigan right above his heart.

“Your heart changes every other day.” Jungkook rebutted, his eyes rolling so far back he might lose them back there. 

“She’s noncommittal okay, we don’t judge here.” Taehyung glared at his best friend and it made my heart swell at how cute they both were.

“I’m most definitely judging,” Jungkook muttered falling back on his elbows and staring up at the ceiling, feigning annoyance.

“Can you believe him Y/n?” The deep timbre of his voice negated any nasal squeak he might otherwise have from his whiny tone. 

“He’s a real scoundrel, the worst of them all.”

[randomcactaceae]

Damie prompt: Jamie needs a au pair to take care of her niece and nephew, Miles and Flora. She's an closed and dark person and likes to be alone, that's why she has so many rules in her mansion. But Dany Clayton needs the job.

This prompt is so good! Thanks anon!

Here it is! I hope you like it :)

Friendly reminder for everyone reading: feel free to comment/suggest/give feedback on any of the fics, as well as feel free to ask/drop a prompt!✌ (sorry for annoying y´all with this, i sometimes need reassurance bc anxiety)

*******************************************

-"How many times did I told you to clean your shoes before you enter the house? I had just cleaned and it's all dirty now. Now you and Flora better clean this mess up"-

-"sorry aunt Jamie"-

Jamie Wingrave was a very closed woman. She liked everything to be methodical, organised, planned with detail. And she didn't expected her niece and nephew to break her rules. Since her sister and brother-in-law passed away, the kids, Miles and Flora, were looked after by her. It was hard at first, but they soon started to adapt to her rules. Jamie lived on a gothic-style manor on the countryside. Far away from people, as she liked it to be, she had a perfect life, at least for her. She had her own garden in which she spent the most time in, and she lived a relatively peaceful life, until the kids came in. She liked them, though, but they needed attention and time, so her alone time transformed into supervising the kids. The only good thing she thought she had is that she felt less alone in some way. Just by knowing there was someone else in the same house she was. She surely enjoyed being alone, in fact, she preferred to be sitting on a bench in her garden than hanging out in the bar. But sometimes she felt empty inside. At least these kids have each other, she thought.

After the kids finished cleaning, she went to the large couch in the living room and read the newspaper, as always. Suddenly she saw an advertisement about an au-pair agency. Maybe it was time to take a big step and find someone to take care of the kids, even though it involved accepting a stranger into her house, and probably changing her own routines and schedules.

After several minutes of thinking, Jamie took the phone and dialed the number. A man answered. She asked for the details, and finally she accepted. The new au-pair was arriving on Monday. 

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

-”I can´t wait to meet her”- Flora exclaimed. She was six years old. For her, receiving the new au-pair seemed like the best idea ever. The older kid, Miles, was excited as well, but he was a little more reserved. Jamie had still many doubts about the idea of receiving an unknown woman into her life. What if she doesn´t stick to her rules? What if it´s all a fraud? All she had to do now is wait.

There was a knock on the door. She´s here, she thought. She opened the front door, and there she was. She seems nice. She´s very pretty, too. Nevermind.

-”Hi, i´m Danielle Clayton, the new au-pair. You must be-”-

-”Jamie. Jamie Wingrave. Nice to meet you.”-

Jamie was cold and closed, especially when it involved meeting new people. She was kind at heart, though, but she didn´t liked to be seen as sensitive and vulnerable. On the other hand, Dani, the au-pair, was the other way around. She was extroverted, confident, and had a light soul. 

As soon as the children listened, they rushed downstairs.

-”Hey, you must be...”-

-”Flora. Flora Wingrave. And he´s my brother Miles”- Flora said as she shook Dani´s hand. Miles did as well.

-”Nice to meet you, guys!”-

-”Here are their schedules. They need to be in bed by 9:30.”- Jamie said frankly as she handed Dani a paper filled with timetables and instructions.

-”Okay, no worries, it will al work out”- Dani said with a smile. Jamie proceeded and showed her the guest room, as well as the main rooms of the house. Jamie noticed Dani´s goodwill as she came into the house. She looked so heartwarming and pure. Maybe she will be just what the kids needed to lift their mood. They were happy, but they had a hard time since their parents´loss.

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

Dani seemed to stick perfectly well to the schedules Jamie had. In fact, Jamie wasn´t at all bothered by her presence, which she found weird, because she got easily overwhelmed by interacting with people. But Dani was different. She made her feel at peace somehow. Maybe she shouldn´t be so hard with her and try to make her feel comfortable as well.

After Jamie finished her afternoon tea and her reading, she went outside to the garden, where Dani was playing with the kids. Jamie smiled to herself, as she hadn´t seen her niece and nephew so happy in a long time. It was also nice to see the joy Dani brought into the house.

She stood leaning towards the front door, and Flora waved at her.

-”Come, aunt Jamie, we´re having a picnic!”-

She smiled and walked slowly to where they were. They had set a tablecloth on the grass, put some snacks in small plates, and made some tea. For Jamie´s strict way of living, it caused her anxiety to have glasses on the grass, as well as ceramic plates, but she believed Dani and the kids were careful, or at least they tried to be.

-”We´ll clean everything after we finish. Don´t worry about it”- Dani said, as if she was reading her mind.

She sat down on the grass with them.

-”Flora, come, I bet you can´t climb the willow as fast as I can”- Miles screamed from afar.

-”I bet you can´t”- Flora said as she ran towards him.

-”Miles, take care of your sister. And don´t you dare taking off your shoes, you two. I won´t let you in if you do”- Jamie told them. She constantly reminded them that they could have fun, but they needed to follow her rules.

-”How you don´t get tired of them? They´re like little demons”- Jamie said

Dani laughed. -”I don´t know. I´m just patient, I guess”-

-”I wish I was like you. I get tired of people very easily, you know”-

They both stared at the horizon. Dani didn´t knew what to say. Does that meant she got tired of her?

-”So are you having a nice stay? Is everything good over here?”-Jamie said, changing the topic.

-”Oh, yes it is. The house, the kids, you. Everything is great”-

Jamie smiled. Did she just said she was actually nice?

-”I´m glad. See, I know sometimes it´s hard to stick to the routines and schedules, but I haven´t been bothered at all by your stay. In fact, it´s nice to have you here. So I just wanted to thank you for bringing happiness to the kids”-

Dani had a wide smile upon her face. Jamie was so closed and cold that it was very reassuring to hear those words from her.

-”You´re more than welcome. In fact, thank you for accepting me here.”-

Jamie just smiled back at her, staring at her big blue eyes.

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

Days went by and Dani adapted perfectly into the way of living Jamie and the kids had. It almost felt like she was there all the time, except for one thing. She somehow turned the gloomy athmosphere that was often around into moments of joy. Not just for the kids, but for Jamie as well. She felt less alone with Dani around. And she enjoyed her company. In fact, sometimes she even craved for spending more time with Dani.

-"Hey, i'm going to take the kids to the lake, wanna come?"- Dani asked, bubbly as always.

-"Sure"- Jamie said with a smile, for Dani's surprise.

They got their things ready and headed to the lake. As the four of them were walking, the kids started to run, leaving Dani and Jamie alone.

-"Do I need to run after them?"-

-"Don't worry. They know the way. They used to come here a lot with her mother."-

Dani's smile dissappeared for a while.

-"I'm sorry"-

-"It's okay. I had many time to get over it, well, to try to get over it as much as possible"-

They kept walking in silence.

-"So Dani, why did you chose to come here, may I ask? You left everything behind"- Jamie asked, making a small pause in her walk.

-"Well, it's a long story, but I just needed to begin again, you know? I needed to find a new happy place."-

-"And have you found it?"-

-"Well, I have. I like it here. It makes me happy and peaceful"-

Jamie couldn't help but smile after those words. Someone actually found a happy place inside her way of living.

-"I'm glad you did"-

-"And may I ask, have you? Have you found your happy place?"- Dani asked, hesitant to know more about Jamie.

-"For years I thought I had. This was my perfect life. Just me, the nature, and the calm that comes from being alone. But sometimes I've felt lonely, you know? Even though Miles and Flora brighten me up, I sometimes feel something's missing. And I feel lonely."-

Dani was about to say something but she was cut off by Jamie.

-"But you know, Dani? Since you came here I started to love my life again. I'm not going to lie, since your arrival, you've brought joy to my house. For many time I didn't enjoy the rainy afternoons, the laughter of the children, or my morning coffee. But with you here, it just feels right."- Jamie inmediatly felt the regret of saying those words. She learned with life that it's not very good to establish strong bonds with people who may not stay. But with Dani it was different. She felt at home whenever she was with her.

Maybe Dani was her happy place, after all.

*****************************************

Well, there you go! I hope that was close to what you had in mind.

Remember i'm always open for any feedback on this fic or my other ones, as well as tips/suggestions/comments/ or more prompts!

[gwoongi]

lovely ᵕ̈♡˳೫˚∗ (02)

jeon jeongguk / reader genre: boyfriend au words: 3744 warnings: crack humour, a liddol bit of fluff, slight suggestive sexual content, jeongguk and y/n being chaotic lowkey & five year old jeno being an actual savage... a/n: happy 2 see such a great response to the lovely couple with part one !!!!!! pls continue to luv and support them (♥ó㉨ò)ノ (pls see series parts on my masterlist!!)

➸ Jeongguk and Y/N play Mom and Dad for a little bit.

Jeongguk could cry. He could quite honestly, genuinely, whole-heartedly cry, right here and right now in the middle of his living room, surrounded by mess and feathers from the bedroom pillows.

He loves kids, don’t get him wrong- my God, he loves kids, and loves how kids can make a house feel like a home, how kids say some really fucking weird things; but, Jeongguk finds that kids are a lot of hard work. He has half the heart to call his parents and say sorry urgently, because children are like tiny spawns of Satan, demons wanting to cause chaos at every corner.

The last time Jeongguk and yourself were given the mission of looking after your niece and nephews, they were much smaller, and therefore easier to look after. All they did was sleep, and cry when they were hungry or needed to pee or poop, and were perfectly content doing absolutely nothing all damn day. Now, three years later, when your sister and her husband are going on a small self-care vacation to Spain, Jeongguk removes himself from the situation to observe the situation, which in description is the view of his living room completely ransacked and bustling with life, crazed children dashing around at full speed, like Mario Kart characters using the star. 

It’s so overwhelming that he actually doesn’t even know what to say. When the fuck did they get so hard to look after?

Whenever your niece and nephews came over to visit, they clung to Jeongguk like moths to lamplight. You never knew why. Jeongguk was fun, and easy to get along with, and perhaps his kind-hearted nature was universally loved by all ages. Even when they were babies and newborns, they settled with Jeongguk, staying silent and googly-eyed whereas in your arms they screeched, like banshees or dinosaurs swinging in trees. You couldn’t fault them; Jeongguk was irresistible, maternal almost in the way his voice changed around the kids, the way he laughed at their weird jokes and forced himself into pretend roles, like the mean villain coming to take over their Playmobil hospital.

Eight a.m, that’s when they arrived. Jeongguk had got up at six, eager and anxious, already cutting up salad bowls made up of apple slices and watermelons. Over an overly bitter cup of tea, you heard him ask, “wait, can three year olds eat watermelon?”, and you glared at him to resist the urge to respond with something that may well hurt his feelings.

“I usually like to put them to bed at about eight, but they won’t go to sleep even if you force their eyes closed, so just be firm with them,” is what your sister had said, frantically trying to detach a clinging boy from her leg. Jeongguk blinked owlishly, standing behind you in the hallway as you followed behind her wordless. Maybe Jeongguk didn’t know what firm meant. Raising your voice and being stern with little tiny precious angelic creatures? Never.

(1)

“Y/N, I’m sorry, but you’re boring.”

Five year olds can be blunt and mean. You now know this to be a fact, because the eldest of the four just said that to you, his hands on his hips with his lips in an unamused pout. He stands by the window, one foot on the Playmobil ambulance and the other on his leg like a flamingo.

“What? Why, what did I do?” you ask, confused and honestly, slightly offended. Jeongguk sits off to one side petting the hair of the youngest, his secret favourite because she’s not quite old enough to ask questions or complain.

“That’s what I mean, you’re not doing anything,” he huffs. “You’re supposed to be the bad police officer.”

“There’s no such thing as a bad police officer,” you try to tell him. You pause, realising you’re wrong but also realising that you’re not advised to get political with a five year old, especially one who still thinks the tooth fairy is a real thing. “I’m trying to be realistic.”

“You suck,” comes his reply. Jeongguk snorts, shrugging when you glance at him angrily.

“Stop, you know I’m your favourite Aunt,” you say to him sweetly.

Your nephew, sassy and honest little Jeno, pulls a face and sits back down with a huff, snatching the ambulance off the carpet to thrust the small man inside. “You’re my only Aunt, Auntie Y/N.”

Right.

The not-so-bad-police-officer gets snatched away from you seconds later and you decide, with finality and assertiveness, that you’re done with playing pretend with them. You lift yourself up off the floor, crouching over to take Yeji away from Jeongguk’s arms. Jeongguk pouts, his eyes blown wide as he watches the baby being lifted away from him and towards you.

“Uncle Jeongguk can be the villain,” you suggest, making Jeno forget how uncool you are as he launches into an enthusiastic cheer, followed by his siblings who are making noise just because he is. Jeongguk stares at you, pleading. “Anybody hungry?”

“No thanks, Auntie Y/N,” Jeno replies.

“Oh, do we have animal crackers?” asks Sanha politely, and you nod, taking his hand as you walk towards the kitchen, where a neatly packed bag sits on the counter where you left it when the four little monsters came by your apartment this morning. 

Jeongguk lets his body slump as he realises he has nowhere to run, no excuses to pull up, and he positions himself on all fours to get the police officer miniature and indulge in Jeno’s futuristic fantasies of a police officer murdering hospital patients. Honestly, sometimes you have to respect a child’s morbid creativity, even when it scares the living hell out of you.

(2)

“Y/N, did you move Jeno’s inhaler?”

“No, why?”

Jeongguk appears in the doorway to the kitchen, scratching the back of his neck out of a nervous, absent-minded habit. His eyes are glued to the four children in the living room.

“They’re running around a lot, I don’t want Jeno to lose his breath and have an attack,” Jeongguk explains, meanwhile you rummage around in your sister’s handy dandy travel bag and search for the tiny blue inhaler. Jeongguk braves looking away from them and instead over to you, “if it’s not in there, it’s fine, I’ll check the bathroom again.”

You hum, searching blindly. “Yeah, it’s not here, baby. Check the cabinet under the sink, I’m eighty nine percent sure that it’s in one of those plastic boxes.”

Jeongguk’s eyebrows push up in amusement: “Jeno’s life is counting on this eighty nine percent.”

“The more you question me, the less confident I get. Check the bathroom,” you reply, shoving a baby carrot into your mouth as you follow Jeongguk out of the kitchen, opting to watch the kids while he rummages around in hordes of bathroom mess. While Jeongguk hurries into the hallway to check the bathroom, you step out into the living room and pause comically.

The four kids seem perfectly happy, loud and obnoxious and covered in a thin layer of white feathers, bleeding from one of the pillows mangled on the floor. Without context, this looks like a murder scene, with crayons broken and split around the floor and the couch throw on the floor next to the Playmobil set, and you’re half praying on everybody’s behalf that those pillows arent the ones from the master bedroom, because you’re pretty sure you don’t have any spares laying around for later.

“Found it,” Jeongguk returns a few minutes later, holding the small inhaler in his hands. After taking a second out of the room, when he comes back he doesn’t quite know what to say. “The mess wasn’t my fault.”

You frown, your hands on your hips. “I know. Maybe you should put on a movie, keep them entertained for a bit so they don’t completely trash our house.”

Jeongguk chews the inside of his lip. “Is it cheating if we call over Seokjin to help? He’s always on kiddie pool duty, he’s better with kids than we are.”

“You’re so good with kids, shut up,” you say to him, gently smacking his arm. “They love you.”

So, he huffs. Stealing a kiss from you, he gently pushes you backwards and then steps across the room, expertly mindful of the landmines of lego on the floor as he grabs Jeno and moves him away from the coffee table, to sit on the couch next to his siblings while Jeongguk retreats to the movie box, filled with animated films that the kids go absolutely bonkers for. You hear the start of an argument over which Disney movie to watch first as you return to the kitchen, chopping up vegetables that, secretly, you know will make you the ultimate uncool Aunt.

(3)

“I hate carrots.”

“You do like carrots.”

A gag. “Vegetables! Yuck!”

With one hand, you rake through your hair, staring tiredly at Jeno and Jaemin as they fuss over the food on their plates. And it’s not even like you wanted to give them carrots! You’re just following the note left for you in the bag, with the instructions of an actual parent being your law. Jeongguk sits at the other end of the table, twirling his fork around his food as he watches, feeling increasingly guilty.

It’s hard being an Aunt, especially hard being the uncool Aunt. He knows it’s just a joke, just something the kids say because you’re looking out for them, and he frowns, looking around the table.

“I’m allergic to carrots,” Jeno says suddenly.

“Don’t lie,” you tell him, aeroplane feeding Yeji who seems to be the only baby present who appreciates your efforts. She laughs and squeals as the spoon of food comes towards her and that makes you smile, animated sound effects as she eats it.

Jeno pouts, “It’s true.”

“Your Mom told me to feed you this, don’t hate me,” you say to him, making your own pout which he, as a stubborn five year old, ignores. “Come on, eat all your food and you can have pudding afterwards. I’ll let you have two slices of cake instead of one.”

He feels tempted. “Can I leave the carrots?”

“No. Carrots will make you super strong,” you explain. “Uncle Jeongguk ate carrots when he was a kid and now he’s real strong, look!”

Jeno glances at Jeongguk, who smiles for effect and encouragement. “Auntie Y/N is right. I hated carrots too, but I wanted to be big and strong so I ate all my vegetables.”

A groan of sadness comes out of Jeno’s mouth. At this point, Jaemin is convinced, wolfing down his carrots that he actually doesn’t hate after-all, considering they’re gone in a matter of seconds. Sanha seems unbothered about the entire thing, quietly eating his food because he knows that he wants that additional slice of cake, even if Jeno is going to refuse it, he is not!

Before you can have a mental breakdown at the dinner table, Jeongguk leans over slightly and looks at Jeno with a gentle and wide-eyed expression, child-like, engaging. “Did you also know that all the good kids on Santa’s nice list eat vegetables?”

Mid-mumble, Jeno freezes, looking at Uncle Jeongguk. “Really?” Intonation, his voice is so high.

Jeongguk nods. “Mhm! Santa said that if you eat your veggies and say thank you to whoever made you the meal, he’ll bring you anything you want on Christmas Day. Don’t you wanna be on the good list?”

Jeno nods furiously. “Yep! Uncle Jeongguk, that’s so cool, you know Santa!”

Eh...If it works. Jeongguk doesn’t argue or disagree as Jeno quickly finishes his plate without protest, seemingly fine at the end considering he just said he was allergic. As he scoffs down the contents of his plate, you look over at Jeongguk and silently thank him, slumping as if suggesting that you were tired. He grins, knowing the feeling.

(4)

Splash.

“Careful, honey, don’t get the floor all wet.”

“Sorry, Auntie Y/N. It was the ducky’s fault!”

Bath time is a chore, surprisingly harder than it was when they were babies and needed extra attention in the water. Sanha sits solo in the bathtub, the sound of Jaemin and Jeno running around in the bedroom an ambience as you crouch by the tub and help Sanha get clean. Yeji is the only child clean and patient, so calm and cute and cuddly and ready to go to sleep the second her bathtime is over. Jeongguk groans somewhere in the apartment, keeping the twins entertained while Sanha finishes up.

“O-kay,” you say, after a few minutes of helping wash away some suspicious chocolate stains off his arms. Most likely super-cool-Uncle-Jeongguk gave them something extra after dessert, and honestly, that wouldn’t surprise you if it were true. “All done! Feel better?”

Sanha nods, letting the duck float away. “Yep. I’m cold.”

“Once you’re dry and changed, we can put on the heating and finish up watching Cars, does that sound okay?”

“That sounds fun, Auntie Y/N! You’re the bestest,” he grins, and you grin too, because honestly, you’re taking coolness points in gasps, and anything to prove you’re not some grouchy unfun Aunt is welcomed and encouraged. Sanha doesn’t make a fuss as he gets dried, shuddering for extra effect and happily snuggling into his duck onesie once everything is dry and ready for him to get changed.

Sanha is a human rocket. He hops into his onesie and races back into the living room, reaching his final destination of Uncle Jeongguk as a loud groan fills the house, likely due to the fact that Sanha has jumped on top of his Uncle, like he always does, just to get the reaction. You sniff, leaning to flush the toilet because apparently they haven’t quite mastered that one yet, and drain the bathtub. The floor sits wet, pooling like an extra tub or the floor of a shower and you sigh, grabbing an extra towel off the rack to soak up the bathwater, the low bubbling sound of the water disappearing briefly out-yelling the terrorsome three out in the living room.

“Need any help, baby?”

Behind you, Jeongguk appears in the doorway, not quite in and not quite out. He hovers, waiting patiently to see if he can find an excuse to stop being a couch for the three kids. You lean over the bathtub, taking out their small toys and setting them on the side with hopes that they will dry overnight.

“Nah, I’m okay,” you tell him, looking over your shoulder with a smile. Jeongguk stands there, having changed, in an oversized jumper and sweats. “What are they doing?”

“Fighting,” Jeongguk says. “I’d break it up, but I wanna see if they’ll learn their lesson once they get hurt.”

“That’s perfect. But fucked. Are we fucked up?”

Jeongguk shrugs. “Worked for me and my brother when we were younger. I turned out okay!”

You look at him for a moment with a bewildered look. “Sure, if that’s what you want to call it.”

The bathtub makes a gurgle, the water gone and you crouch to pick up the bathmat, hanging it over the small radiator for it to dry faster. Jeongguk then takes several steps backwards as you meet him outside, his smile widening as you close the door and turn off the light, falling into his arms with a soft thud and sigh. His arms wrap around you sweetly, warm and tight, like home. Jeongguk likes weekends for the moments he gets to spend with you, but today, he’s barely seen you in his own home. Longing- Jeongguk tightens his arms around you and presses his lips to the crown of your head, gently swaying you from side to side like a waltz. He knows you feel the same way, the same kind of tired and wanting energy, as your arms lock around him tighter.

“Come on,” Jeongguk mutters, pouting slightly when you pull out of his embrace and glance up at him through your eyelashes. He exaggerates it, humming, and then leaning to press his lips to yours. Moments after he pulls away, he comes back in for another, and another, his hands molded behind your back. ���Love you,” he adds in between one kiss, and you hum in reply. It’s enough.

There’s a pitter-patter of feet. “Ewwww! Auntie Y/N and Uncle Jeongguk are having sex!”

You pull away from Jeongguk with such speed that it might give you whiplash; Jeno stands looking slightly horrified in the hallway, near the door to the living room, proud of his rising of ews that follow from his siblings near the TV.

“Don’t say that! Where did you even learn that word?” you gasp, moving towards the five year old.

Jeno shrugs. “Heard it at Mommy’s birthday party. Uncle Taehyung said it.”

You sigh knowingly. “Should have known.”

“Please don’t go around saying that when your Mom and Dad come to get you,” Jeongguk adds in, looking flustered from behind you.

That wouldn’t be the most impressive thing to hear when you walk through the door to collect your kids.

(5)

The bathroom light switches off. Jeongguk closes the door and rubs his face, groaning out aches from his shoulders as he approaches the bed, shirtless, his toes curling into the carpet.

“I swear they weren’t that crazy last time we looked after them,” Jeongguk says, sinking onto the bed. “Have they always been like that? Am I the crazy one?”

“It’s this scary thing called growing up,” you reply, sitting back against your pillows with your phone in your hands, the screen lighting up with new messages from your sister. “Can’t believe you got them to go to sleep without any trouble. It’s giving me baby-fever…”

“I’m gonna - I’m gonna have to ask you to slow down,” replies Jeongguk, sounding winded.

“Everytime you hang out with them, it just proves to me how good you are with kids, and how, you know, someday you might be a Dad and- ugh, you’re gonna be great,” you sigh, followed by Jeongguk grunting with amusement and shuffling to lay right beside you, his nose on your arm. You set your phone down, turning to match together against him like a puzzle. “They’re not shy when it comes to picking favourites. God, they really hate me.”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes, “No, they don't. They love you- you’re so good with looking after them. If I was doing all this alone, there’s no doubt I’d probs forget to feed them at dinner time. I’d straight up order a pizza and forget that kids need certain foods to grow up.”

Laughter suffices as a reply, and that’s that for a little bit. In his head, Jeongguk wants to talk all about how great of a Mom you’ll be, how amazing it would be for him to watch you raise children, his children. He doesn’t say any of these things, because he’s one-hundred-percent certain that you know it all already, and that you’re just modest and insecure about it. So, Jeongguk hums and pulls you closer for a hug, smooching your lips when you’re close enough.

The door is closed. The four kids are sleeping, Yeji so deep in sleep that not even her brothers could wake her up if they screamed. Jeongguk knows this. You know this. So, he moves his hand from your back to your ass, feeling the curve, feeling the smile against his teeth.

“Stop, our niece and nephews are next door,” you warn him, quietly, mumbles against his mouth. Jeongguk smirks, gently nipping your bottom lip with his teeth and pushing his head into your neck.

“And it would suck to wake them up,” Jeongguk replies, worming his way into places hot and inviting. “So, keep it quiet, yeah?”

You huff, rolling to your back and parting your legs as Jeongguk slots in between. “I love when you get bossy on an evening,” you say to mock him and he laughs quietly.

“I love you,” he breathes, and you don’t get time to reply.

He knows, though.

(6)

“And they were good?”

Jeongguk and yourself share a glance.

“Golden,” you say.

Your sister stands in the kitchen, giving you both the stink eye while the three older kids race around the house, excited at the fact their cool parents are home three days later. Honestly, she knows you’re lying, because these are her kids and she knows them better than anybody.

Anyway, she shrugs. “They must always be good for you guys. You can babysit more often.”

Jeongguk tenses in his seat. He loves these kids but, holy fuck, the thought of looking after them again so soon makes him want to throw up. If there is one thing Jeongguk has learnt from looking after three wild rampaging children and one angelic princess baby- but, again, he has no favouritism!-, it’s that it is absolutely harder than it looks.

It’s not enough to put him off though.

When the house is emptied of tiny humans and is left cold and quiet and a little bit messy, Jeongguk stoops to pick up left behind piles of mess on the floor and he finds himself smiling. Now that he thinks about it, it was actually kind of fun. Being a Dad for the day. Then he thinks about being a Dad one day. His eyes find you across the room hauling the hoover out of the storage cupboard and his heart does somersaults.

(7)

[5:45pm] Mean Sibling #1: Tell me why Jeno is talking about how you and Jeongguk had sex [5:46pm] You: OMG THATS NOT TRUE [5:46pm] You: well, i mean… [5:46pm] You: not in front of them !!!! what kind of aunt do you think i am????? [5:49pm] Mean Sibling #1: How does he even know what sex means….how does he know that word [5:50pm] Mean Sibling #1: Hyo is laughing at me. what does my husband know that i don’t [5:52pm] You: that sounds like a you problem [5:54pm] Mean Sibling #1: ok well sorry for accusing you :P gotta give my FIVE YEAR OLD a talk….dear fucking god [5:59pm] Mean Sibling #1: wait a damn second wtf do you mean NOT IN FRONT OF THEM??? [6:00pm] Mean Sibling #1: Y/N ANSWER UR PHONE [6:01pm] Mean Sibling #1: Y/N [6:03pm] Mean Sibling #1: fucker

[antiquecompass]

Untamed Winter Fest Day 17: Bells

The Jiang Holiday Extravaganza was an entire fortnight of excess that even after four years still shocked Xichen in the five minutes of peace, quiet, and reflection, he got to himself at Lotus Pier. At least he’d learned how to avoid all those damn demon elves on their shelves, especially since Jiang Cheng always exorcised their room of them when they arrived. He also knew which  bathrooms to avoid (near the library and off the living room with their Santa and Mrs. Claus toilet seat covers respectively), and how to kindly suggest a theme to Madame Yu for the Christmas tree in their bedroom. The first year had been a tree full of teddy bears, and while not offensive in any way, half of those ornaments sung in voices eerily reminiscent of The Chipmunks. Many were motion activated. He’d come out of a sound sleep his first night here, terrified, as Nutmeg tried to climb the tree and a freakish high-pitched voice sang ‘Up on the Rooftop.’ This year Madame Yu had apparently found some mercy and picked deer. Glittery deer, but just deer. None of them sang or played music, though the large light-up display on their fireplace mantle did. It was a compromise Xichen embraced. Mostly because he’d easily found the off-switch on the musical Santa train.

The sheer amount of food and all its richness? That was still a struggle. He had consumed far too many desserts at the Christmas Eve party and now regretted it as he laid on their bed, waiting for Jiang Cheng to return with Sugar. Honey, their new puppy, was already in her bed in the corner, fast asleep. Cinnamon and Nutmeg had claimed the library as their territory, but Pepper was on the bed beside Xichen, stretched out over all the pillows.

He truly wanted nothing more than to roll over and sleep with her soft purrs lulling him into dreams, but there was one Christmas tradition he had come to fully embrace and he was going to stay awake for it, even if the sugar crash in his system was demanding sleep.

This was why Uncle had always forbid food excess, especially sweets.

He smiled as their bedroom door opened, Jiang Cheng carrying the crisp, cold scent of the outdoors on his skin and in his hair. He carefully placed Sugar on the bed, then sat down between her and Xichen, stroking Xichen’s hair.

“The great Lan Xichen. Defeated by fudge,” he teased. His fingers moved to his belly and rubbed it in warm circles. “How far you have fallen.”

“It was very good fudge,” Xichen said. “I know you still have your problems with him, but Jin Zixuan is a talented baker.”

“It’s one of his few good traits,” Jiang Cheng agreed.

When he leaned down to kiss Xichen, he could taste the remnants of peppermint and chocolate. Xichen wasn’t the only one who had an excess of sweets tonight.

“I’m going to grab a shower while I can,” he said. He ran a thumb over Xichen’s lips, a soft smile on his face when Xichen caught it and gave it a sharp bite. “I’d ask you to join me, but I don’t think you’re capable of moving.”

“Probably not,” Xichen admitted. “The spirit is willing, the body refuses.”

Jiang Cheng sighed and patted Xichen’s belly again. “This is what I get for hitching myself to your old, broken down, wagon.”

“I am four years older than you,” Xichen said.

“And yet one of the oldest people in this house,” Jiang Cheng said as he slipped off the bed.

“We can’t all be sat at the kid’s table,” Xichen said.

Both Jiang Cheng and his brother had been placed there to watch over the younger cousins and their nieces and nephews. That was the story at least. Xichen had experienced enough Jiang family dinners to know it was more to do with Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng, two grown men, always being on the verge of a food fight.

“Can you honestly say you enjoyed your time at the main table?” Jiang Cheng asked as he pulled out his pajamas. “Enlightening conversation with Uncle Yi about different wood grains?”

“Each day brings a chance to learn something new,” Xichen said.

“Baby, you are so full of shit,” Jiang Cheng said with a laugh as he walked out into the hallway.

**********

Xichen had fallen asleep despite his best intentions, but when he woke up from his dessert-induced nap, Jiang Cheng was beside him, hair down and loose, reading glasses on, with his Kindle in his hands.

Xichen still couldn’t believe he had the good fortune to fall asleep and wake-up and live beside such a man.

“Sorry,” he said.

Jiang Cheng startled, but set his Kindle to the side.

“You were fighting a losing battle,” he said. He slid down to press up against him. “I’m surprised you lasted as long as you did.”

“Did I miss it?” Xichen asked.

This was their tradition. On Christmas Eve, late at night, when the house was quiet and nothing could be heard but the sound of the bells and windchimes on the porch, they exchanged their gifts to each other. The private ones. The sentimental ones. The ones they wanted to keep just between them without the eyes of the entire family on them and without any running commentary from certain vocal parties.

Wei Ying and Madame Yu both had very pointed opinions on gifts.

“It’s 11:50,” Jiang Cheng said. “You woke up just in time.”

He reached under his pillow and pulled out a slim box.

“Merry Christmas,” he said.

Xichen reached under his own and pulled out the slim wooden chest he’d commissioned to hold the small glass figurines inside.

“Merry Christmas,” he said.

It was Jiang Cheng’s year to open his present first. Xichen eagerly waited to see his face.

“These are--” Jiang Cheng’s voice went soft. “These are our pets.” He looked at Xichen, fingers carefully trailing over the glass figurines inside the box. “How?”

“I ran into a few old friends from college when I had to chaperone that school trip to the Renaissance Festival. One of them is a glassblower, the other a woodworker. I know they’re not like the tiny crystal ones you collect but--”

“They’re perfect,” Jiang Cheng said. He pulled Xichen in a deep kiss. Then another. And another, before finally turning back to the box, the softest smile on his face. “You even got Honey in here.”

“A last minute addition,” Xichen said. The little glass Honey had arrived days before their departure.

“Thank you,” Jiang Cheng said. “I love them.”

His fingers danced over the tops of the five glass figures again before carefully closing the box and setting it on his nightstand.

“Your turn,” he said.

Xichen picked up the slim box and heard a slight rattling inside.

“Not a necklace,” Xichen said.

“No, you don’t wear those,” Jiang Cheng said, fingers unconsciously wrapped around the jade lotus pendant hanging from his own neck.

“A bracelet?” he asked. “A fountain pen? A letter opener?”

“Stop guessing and just open it,” Jiang Cheng said.

“The guessing is the fun part,” Xichen said. He carefully started to unwrap the paper.

“Just open the damn thing,” Jiang Cheng said.

Xichen deliberately opened the present even slower, just to see that frustrated furrow between his boyfriend’s brows.

When he finally opened the box, he forgot how to breathe.

He’d resigned himself to the fact that there would never be a wedding for them, even though he knew they’d be together for life. Jiang Cheng was very vocal about his hatred for weddings and a general apathy towards the institute of marriage when legal ties and an agreed life-long commitment was just as valid in his eyes. So Xichen knew he wouldn’t have an engagement or a wedding or a marriage in the legal sense.

But this--this was--this was the Jiang Bell.

A silver bell engraved with the design of a nine-petal lotus hung on a royal purple tassel. It was sacred to the Jiangs. Similar to the Lans and their forehead ribbon. And was meant only for family members.

“Legend has it,” Jiang Cheng said in the wake of Xichen’s silence, “that the bell can calm the mind and clear the spirit. I don’t know if it’s true, but it’s a family tradition. I’ve been lobbying to get you one for years now and my Great Aunt finally gave up the goods.”

Xichen was still at a loss for words. His fingers shook as he removed the bell from its box. A soft ringing filled the room.

“You’re my family. We’re our own little family, cats and dogs included,” Jiang Cheng said. “And it was time you had your own.”

“You,” Xichen said, laughing even as happy tears filled his eyes. “I got you little glass animals and you give me--”

“What is rightfully yours,” Jiang Cheng said.

He kissed the tears on Xichen’s cheeks, his fingers wrapping around Xichen’s own where they held the bell.

“I love you,” Xichen said. All he could say when words truly failed to express what he was feeling and the depths of the emotions running through him.

An excess of love, of devotion, of trust, of dreams fulfilled and even more hope for the years ahead of them.

“Of course, I’ve now fucked myself over,” Jiang Cheng said. “No present is ever going to top this one.”

“No,” Xichen agreed. “But I somehow think you’ll still beat me, again, like you have, every year.”

“We’re going to disagree on this one,” Jiang Cheng said. “You gave me the menagerie in tiny glass form that I can have forever.”

And Jiang Cheng had given him his family, completely, fully, now.

“A draw then,” Xichen said, even if they both knew who had won this year.

“A draw,” Jiang Cheng agreed.

[buffyversefanfiction]

The Haunting of Buffy Summers

Warning: I do not own the rights to the television show Buffy the Vampire Slayer, its spin-off series Angel, its dark horse comics continuation series, or any of the characters created by Joss Whedon and others in the Buffyverse. 15 years +, Mild to Strong Violence, Sexual References. F/F, F/M, M/M, Other + 

PART ONE

It had been months since the passing of Buffy and Angel’s son Tristan and despite the relief over there being no sign of the shadow demon that was released at the time of Tristan’s death there was very little reason to celebrate for Buffy and co this Halloween as Buffy and Angel both mourned their child, Dawn grieved her nephew, Faith a friend, Willow an honoree nephew and Spike an strained ally. Yes, this Halloween nobody had celebration in mind, well almost nobody. “Xander, you absolutely cannot dress up my niece as a pumpkin!” Buffy told her best friend as she and Xander walked through a local cemetery within San Francisco. “With our luck with Halloween you’ll end up turning baby Joyce into an actual pumpkin.” Buffy had always called her niece baby Joyce instead of just Joyce, even though she was a young child now and no longer a baby she could never bring herself to just call her Joyce, perhaps because it was confirmation there was no other Joyce amongst the living anymore or perhaps it just brought up too much pain. Buffy thought about her mother everyday but more so since the death of her son, more than ever she wished for her mother to be there and somehow make everything okay not that she could even if she was still alive but still wishing was better than accepting the harsh reality of what her life had become. “Your niece wants to be a vampire of all things it is literally like she knows what we all get up to when we join her aunt Buffy for late night walks.” Xander admitted to her. “I for one don’t feel like having to stop my five-year-old from biting my neck because Halloween got too real again!” “Somehow I’d still prefer that over my niece potentially becoming somebody’s pumpkin pie despite how delicious pumpkin pie maybe.” Buffy replied to her best friend. “You should come over for Halloween might be nice spending it with family,” Xander suggested. “Especially after everything…” “Nah, maybe next year this year I really do not feel like getting caught up with Halloween.” Buffy responded, making it clear she wanted to be alone. “Do not get me wrong if some wacky stuff starts happening text me but otherwise it is me, my couch and some good old-fashioned movie watching.” Before Xander could reply to Buffy’s rejection of his invitation to spend Halloween with him, Dawn and baby Joyce Buffy stopped walking, becoming frozen within the spot she stood in, forcing Xander to stop walking, clearly concerned for the slayer as the slayer turned to her side to notice her son Tristan’s grave, her eyes going straight towards his tombstone. “I cannot believe I almost walked past it!” Buffy told Xander, the hurt of seeing her son’s grave clearly all over her face. “Burying dust is kind of weird when you think of it, I mean he was technically already supernaturally cremated…but it sure is nice to be able to see him every night…just wish I did not have to wait for his death before I could be this close to him.” “Maybe you should start skipping this cemetery?” Xander suggested as he put his arm around Buffy and side hugged her tightly. “Willow and I could patrol this cemetery, so you do not have to be here all the time.” “Thanks for the offer Xander but I cannot leave him again, I have already left him too many times before.” Buffy replied as tears began forming in her eyes. “Even if he does not know it, I do not ever want him to think I’m gone.”

The very next morning, the morning of all hallows eve certainly proved to live up to it’s spooky legacy for Buffy as she awoke from her bed, climbed out of it, stood up and walked over to her nearby dresser where she sat down in front of the mirror, picked up and brush and began combing her luxurious long blonde hair. “Happy Halloween,” Buffy mumbled to herself as she continued brushing her hair before she suddenly heard the roaring noise of the television coming from the living room of the apartment she shared with Willow. Buffy stood up from her dresser chair, charged towards her bedroom door, opening it with force before running straight into the living room where the deafening noise of the television continued to grow louder as she desperately search for the television remote within the corners and sides of the nearby couch. The noise was not only heard by the slayer as she quickly discovered when Willow rushed out of her room chanting loudly in a long dead language before waving her hand and suddenly the noise was gone. “Hey Buffy love you and everything but the next time you try deafening me in the morning I may have to turn you back into a rat.” Willow joked with her, only to be left shocked by a stunned Buffy who stared blankly towards the television. “Buffy, I was only joking about the rat thing.” Willow glanced over to the television to see what Buffy was staring at only for her to be left shocked to see the television was switched off. “Do not tell me we are haunted again,” Willow complained to Buffy. “Here is hoping it is something you killed this time and not me!” “I think it was Tristan,” Buffy admitted to her redheaded best friend. “I was at his grave last night he is clearly trying to contact me.” “Buffy, you are at his grave every night I doubt he’s decided to make contact for the first time on Halloween.” Willow told her as she began walking towards Buffy. “I’d love it for him to be able to say goodbye to you but you and I both know it’s probably some pissed off spirit or something else.” “Yeah I know,” Buffy sighed as she sat down on the couch. “It is just the shadow demon is out there somewhere whose to say Tristan is not?” “We have been through this before sweetie, Tristan’s at peace and maybe that’s the best place for him to be.” Willow replied as she sat down on the couch, sitting next to Buffy. “I do not think he’s anywhere bad I think he’s finally at peace and I think that is something he wanted for a really long time.” “Your right it is probably just some new Halloween horror that I am going to have to kill or whatever it is that we call getting rid of a ghost...” Buffy responded, trying and failing to sound any less sad than she was. “Or we could call ghostbusters and I can go back to bed?” “There’s a powerful psychic that I tend to go to from time to time when I feel the need to hear something from the other side her name is Madame Majestic and she is really good I’ll go see her and see if it is spirit related before we hit the books for alternatives.” Willow revealed to her best friend, eager to take some responsibility off the struggling slayer. “Here’s me thinking all those mystic megs and Madame magics were all phonies.” Buffy admitted before standing up from the couch. “Drop me her address and I’ll go see what Madame Majestic has to say about haunted televisions.” “I could go for you…you know…in case you get hurt when you realize it is not Tristan.” Willow suggested as she stood up to face her friend. “This seems like more like a case for a witch than a slayer maybe you should just go back to bed and let me handle this.” “I’m fine with going Willow to be honest I would rather stay busy and I think I want to handle this one alone for now…you know until witch assistance is needed.” Buffy told her, reassuring the witch that she would be fine going solo. “Okay…I could go with you though? Maybe even get Xander to tag along like the old days just us three?” Willow offered, worried to leave the slayer alone, knowing how much Buffy had been struggling following the death of her son. “I kind of just want to be alone!” Buffy admitted, feeling guilty for pushing away her friend but needing the time to herself.

Buffy walked down one of the many back alleyways within San Francisco in search of Madame Majestic’s headquarters eager to find out what caused the television annoyance earlier that day, convinced it was the spirit of her late son despite her friend Willow telling her otherwise but not wanting to get her hopes up at the same time in case Willow was right. Buffy stopped at a door painted a bright baby blue before noticing the writing “Come on in, I’m waiting” written on the window next to the door. “Well here goes nothing!” She mumbled to herself as she started knocking on the door only to be met by no answer. She waited at the door longer than she would wait at most doors that people did not answer because she believed her best friend would never steer her wrong and after several minutes the bright blue door suddenly opened by itself, alarming Buffy at first by a tell tale sign off what may await her when she walked into Madame Majestic’s. Although that worry never stopped Buffy as she knew deep down whatever was haunting her this Halloween would find her again one way or another and therefore, she was ready to find it first. “You must be Buffy Summers you have many fans on the other side and even more enemies.” Madame Majestic greeted Buffy, as Buffy walked into a darkly lit room to find Madame Majestic dressed up like a stereotypical gypsy styled psychic, sitting at a table with a clear crystal ball. “You got to be kidding me! This is right out a horror movie well a B horror movie although every horror movie is a B when your life is an A horror.” Buffy complained to the psychic as she walked over to the table and sat down on a seat opposite her. “I am very aware of your chosen destiny Miss Summers just as much as you are aware of a spirit haunting you,” The psychic replied to the slayer. “You are confused by the spirits identity and even more so confused that they have chosen Halloween of all times to contact you but you should not be frustrated with this spirit as Halloween hauntings are very common. It is after all when the veil between the living and the dead is at its weakest.” “I think I’ve heard that before never thought much of it till now. Is this spirit…. evil?” Buffy wondered, unable to ask if it were her son, fearing Madame Majestic would say no. “The lines between evil and good are blurred with many especially with your son but no he is not trying to harm you in fact he needs your help.” Madame Majestic revealed to the slayer who was shocked to learn she really was being haunted by Tristan. “Of course, I’ll help him!” Buffy declared to her. “I will do anything to help him…how can I help him?” Buffy was unsure whether or not she believed this psychic’s words not because she did not trust Willow’s recommendation but because she did not want to get her hopes up like she had so many times before when it came to Tristan but she knew she had to do whatever the psychic told her to do in order to potentially speak with her son once more and help him in any way she could.

After a short but seemingly long to her kind of day, Buffy Summers was now laid on her fully made bed within her bedroom in her San Francisco apartment, her eyes closed while she was deep in thought. She had been giving some herbs that was put in a tea that she had drank before going to her room after Willow ensured her what she was taking was not some hippie thing that’d make her go on some bad drug fueled trip. She just lay there with her eyes tightly shut, thinking of the son she lost, not daring to open her eyes or move in anyway, knowing that if she did before it was time then the psychic’s potion would not work. She laid there for what felt like forever until she almost found herself falling asleep when suddenly she was now stood next to the bed looking dazed and confused as she looked down at her own body, stunned that there was now two of her as she realized she was having some kind of magical out of body existence. “You know it is a whole lot spookier on this plane when you have a body to look at in the living realm.” Tristan declared, as Buffy turned around to see her son stood in front of her with a smile on his face. “Tristan…” Buffy replied softly, as she began to smile at the sight of her son, a sight she believed she may never have seen again. “It is nice to see you to mum!” Tristan said to her, shocking Buffy by calling her mum for the first genuine time. “But I am afraid to say this is not going to be a happy family reunion!”

[siderealxmelody]

Henry II's Backstory

@redeyesgreeneyes

@candy-addicted-angel

@fallcnintohell

@you-shouldnt-have-cut-my-wings

@hunterxcarlie

@tohavelost

@truesymphony

Henry never believed that his mother was killed by some demon. He remembered being forced to go on hunts with his father and seeing what he saw. But even then he didn't believe it. Maybe he was in denial, maybe none of it was real and had a simple explanation.

He tried to dissuade his siblings from believing his father but he couldn't. He especially stopped trying with Dean. Let Dean be the Good Son, it would lead him to ruin anyway.

He had plans for himself, he wanted to get out of the small little town he was born in. He wanted a normal life, a house, a good job. He wanted to make good money, enough that he didn't have to worry about bills like his parents had to when his mother had been alive.

For fuck's sake Winchester wasn't even their real last name. Their father had changed it in an effort to avoid police scrutiny and keep whatever had killed their mother away from them. Apparently he'd been looking at a world map at work the week before Mary's death and liked the name. Which to Henry tells everything you need to know about a man like John. He worked as an auto mechanic and was too broke to even go outside the country. He was the kind of guy who looked at maps and planned trips he'd never take.

At 18 Henry had had enough and left for NYU. He double majored in marketing and business and got a job at Goldman Sachs. Along the way he met Cassandra a architecture and theology. She wasn't very religious but curious about understanding the history and significance of the architecture around her. He loved hearing her speak of the different buildings as they walked around NYC.

Two years into their schooling they had a daughter named Cora. Cassandra's parents had money and they loved Henry. So they were more than thrilled to have a granddaughter to dote over.

Two years later after they graduated from college they had a son, Kevin. He stayed most days with his grandparents in their penthouse apartment. Two years later they added their baby girl Rosalind.

Henry thrived in his job and home. He loved to tag along business trips Cassandra took. He loved to see how interested the kids were as Cassandra would rattle off facts and stories about the different buildings around them.

For a time everything was okay, but Kevin started to act strange when he turned 9. Talking to people who weren't there, being rude and reactive.

It had gotten to the point he had pulled a knife on little Rosey when she took his chips.

Henry and Cassandra were beyond worried and took him to many different child psychologists but no one could give them an adequate answer.

At 10 Kevin escalated things by stabbing his grandmother in the shoulder when she refused to give him any sweets as it was past 8 at night.

She was rushed to the hospital and Henry and Cassandra had to make a decision. He needed care and attention they couldn't give him so they decided to send him to Pleastantview Mountain Hospital in the catskills. Henry and Cassandra reached out to high powered friends everywhere to make sure the hospital was as good as their reputation stated. The last thing they wanted was for their son to be hurt more.

A week after his grandmother was sent home Kevin was taken there and kept in their children's corner.

The family visited once a month and the place looked to be helping, he had activities and school work he could do. He was given a specific case worker and therapist to talk to once a week.

They were hoping he'd be able to come home by Christmas in a few months.

But by Thanksgiving Kevin was acting out and angry, doctors advised to let him stay a little longer.

This turned into three years where he would fluctuate back and forth some weeks would be good, some bad.

At 13 he started to talk to his parents about what he saw as a child. Ghosts and demons following him around, haunting his room.

Henry had read child psychology books and knew he had to place this just right. He had to make sure Kevin knew he could talk to him but indulge in these delusions.

His grandparents had a different story, they believed Kevin wholeheartedly and told them they'd been hunters of the things Kevin was talking about. They retired when Cassandra was born.

Cassandra left the conversation and didn't speak to her parents for a month. Henry was taken aback and his in laws assured him they knew his past, it was one of the main reasons they approved of the match. Apparently John had reached out, his mother in law Janet and he went back, did a case up in DC when Cassie was 16.

They'd kept in touch ever since.

Henry was furious he'd tried so hard to get away from his father, to at least have some semblance of normalcy and his father still crept into his life.

He called his father that day demanding he stay away from his family and never contact him or his family again.

Henry and Cassandra both agreed it was better Kevin stayed in the hospital than come home. They didn't want the grandparents to make him worse.

Their daughters were flourishing given the circumstances, Cora at 15 was doing equestrian events on her local school team. Rosey at 11 was making friends and getting into make up and dresses.

Fast forward a few years the family still visited Kevin every month and spent holidays with him.

At 16 Rosey came to her parents and said she was pregnant, her boyfriend Theo was more than happy to step up and assured the parents he'd do everything in his power to be a good father.

He came from a broken home with a single mother so he was hoping to be the father figure he hadn't gotten.

Henry had a soft spot for him and after speaking to Cassandra they agreed Rosey and Theo could keep the children. Provided they promised to both graduate from high school and go on to college. They agreed and on March 15th 2016 Darian Alder Goldwood and Lainie Aster Goldwood were born. They were adored, Kevin even sent some artwork to hang in the nursery for them.

Rosey was elated, she loved to be a mother, she once told Cassandra she'd love to just stay home and raise the kids.

Cassandra was supportive but said an education couldn't hurt.

Two years later after they graduated high school Rosey found out she was pregnant again. She and Theo were overjoyed.

Kevin was beyond excited, seeing his family especially the twins always made his week.

Theo proposed soon after when they were walking in central park. Theo, had had a rough year. His mother Olivia had hung herself in the beginning of senior year. It was odd she had never shown any signs of being suicidal. It all had happened so suddenly.

Henry and Cassandra had payed for the funeral and the first year's rent of an apartment across the hall from them for Rosey, Theo and the twins.

When their third child was born she screamed as she entered the world, Theo and Rosey decided to name her Xena meaning life for the all the vitality she had. Xena Olivia Goldwood brought a joy to her family that they sorely needed.

Kevin was ecstatic when he finally got to hold her. He adored his nieces and nephew and drew drawings and made up stories for them.

Still he had violent outbursts so Henry and Cassandra agreed that to keep Kevin in the system was best.

Finally a year later in the summer of 2019 Rosalind and Theo were to marry. They had finished the first year of their college journey both going to NYU. Rosalind majoring in business she wanted to open her own clothing line. Theo in Visual and performing arts he wanted to build sets for Broadway.

For her wedding Rosey had one request that Kevin be allowed to attend. Henry and Cassandra were skeptical but talking it over with his doctors and therapist they thought it would be a good trial run.

Besides the wedding wasn't going to be very big, just close family. The reception was where all of Henry and Cassandra's business and work friends could come.

On the day of August 9th everything started out great. Cora had made time to come home. She was usually traveling around the world giving talks and doing sports with her horses. She had a ranch up in Montauk.

Kevin seemed nervous when he first got there but slowly relaxed as his nieces and nephew trailed after him and demanded some stories.

The wedding was a simple affair, Rosalind looked beautiful and Cassandra walked Theo down the aisle. They kissed and everyone toasted.

The reception was to be held the next day in their penthouse. For now everyone could relax the night away. Henry and Cassandra hadn't spared any expense and had rented a big lake house for everyone to sleep in. Since the penthouse staff would be up before dawn to get everything ready before guests and the family arrived.

Around 10 there was a scream. Cassandra had come to Rosalind and Theo's room to see if they wanted anything specific for breakfast the next morning.

Theo and Rosalind lay dead in their beds. Before Cassandra could run to the phone she was dead, her throat slit.

Kevin moved around the house and killed his grandmother next. His grandfather tried to hit him with a gun he had but it didn't seem to affect him.

Kevin didn't look like himself, his face was expressionless as if he wasn't even aware of what he was doing.

Cora ran into the room to see Kevin stab him and run out of the room. Cora stood in shock and horror. She ran to her grandfather's side when she saw he was still breathing.

She begged him to hang in there while she went to call the police. Her grandfather said there was no time. She would need to use this special knife to kill Kevin.

She protested, how could she kill her own brother?

Her grandfather assured he he wasn't her brother anymore, he was a demon, he was possesed, and, he needed to be put down.

He passed before Cora could ask anything else.

She found Kevin the living room yelling at Henry that he should have belived him. That he should have stayed with his family and they'd all be safe. If Henry had listened, if he'd stayed they would have all been safe. The angels swore they would have protected them all. But no, Henry didn't listen and now they all had to die.

Cora couldn't stop him from killing their father. But she'd die before she allowed him to hurt the kids.

She asked Kevin as he shuffled toward her if he would kill the kids after killing her. Kevin shook his head, his brown eyes wide and overblown like he was on cocaine.

He would never kill them, they were innocent. They could be saved, all they needed to do was say yes and an angel would save them. He was trying to save the world didn't she see that?

Cora nodded her head tears in her eyes as she went to give him a hug. She would do this as painlessly as possible.

Kevin hugged her and as he pulled back to stab her she did it first. Watching in shock as golden light flashed a couple of times in his body and he went limp.

She backed away from the body and ran to her phone. She called the police and told them everything.

Cora waited as the police came and spoke to her again, took crime scene pictures. The kids had thankfully been asleep this whole time and Cora was asked if she wanted to take them or place them in foster care.

She knew that the life she had had was gone. She'd need to be do everything in her power to give those kids a stable homelife. Even if she barely knew them.

She of course agreed to take them. Once all the funerals were done and the wake was finished she left.

She transferred all the money from all her family's account into her name and moved up to Montauk. She expanded her ranch adding chickens and cows. She couldn't bare to sentence another living thing to death and so bred them.

Only giving her animals to ranches like hers or animal sanctuaries where they'd be cared for the remainder of their lives.

She never reached out to any of her dad's siblings if even a sliver of what Kevin had said was true she wanted no part in it. She rather pretend none of it was real than be dragged back into that hellish nightmare.

[jrubalcaba]

Good Night, Sleep Tight - A CHFIL/SlayerSoldier series crossover story

Good Night, Sleep Tight - A CHFIL/SlayerSoldier series crossover story

author: jrubalcaba

warnings: none except seeing superheroes in tears

rating: so fluffly it’ll rot your teeth. oh, mentions of smut, but no actual smut.

words: 3876

I hope you guys all enjoy this. I certainly enjoyed writing it!

“But I don't wanna go to bed!” Evie heard Robby whine as Steve carried him and Sarah upstairs, one under each arm. She looked over her shoulder and laughed as her mini-me started to kick and scratch at his dad, trying his best to get away.

“Robert, it's time for bed. End of discussion,” Steve snapped. He was still irritated from bath time when the kids decided to see who could make the biggest waves and soaked the entire bathroom, Steve included.

Normally Evie did both bath and bedtime, but since their fight, Steve has been doing every little thing around the house so Evie could relax more. He felt guilty for slacking off on his daddy duty, hence why he was wet, but not in a good way.

Evie sighed as she continued reading her book, when a wild Robby appeared, running through the house towards the Barnes’ side. A streak of pink with blonde on top raced by after as Sarah chased her brother.

“Man, those two are fast,” Steve panted as he entered the living room. Evie grinned.

“Just like their dad,” she replied. He rolled his eyes.

“How do you handle them both every night?” he asked, clearly at his wit's end. She giggled.

“Awww, what's wrong? Can Captain America not keep up with his two demons, I mean, darlings?” she teased with a wink. He sighed.

“Yes I can, but they're just so…..” he trailed off.

“Stubborn? Gee, I wonder where they got that from.” Evie smiled at her husband, laughing when he went Sad Faced at her comment. “We have a routine. I noticed that you get restless when your own bedtime routine gets messed up, so I got them into their own and it works wonders.” Steve's jaw had dropped, as she had neglected to mention that little detail to him.

“Well, you need to tell me more about it so I can do it too,” he snapped at her. She mulled it over for a bit.

“I guess I could,” she answered. Suddenly, voices in the hallway caught their attention as Alice and Bucky walked in, looking unamused.

“Can someone explain why the twins interrupted Becca's bedtime story, just to say goodnight?” Bucky asked, clearly pissed. Evie grinned at Steve.

“Well, Daddy is in charge of bath and bedtime, but it looks like fighting off bad guys is so much easier than putting his kids to bed,” she teased, causing him to roll his eyes again.

“Okay, I'll admit that I slacked off a lot, but this is hard work,” he said in defense. Evie scoffed.

“Yeah, if you haven't done it every night for the past five years.” Becca was tugging her parents forward more and more as the adults talked.

“Momma! I wanna say goodnight to everyone too, just like Robby and Sarah!” she whined impatiently. All three adults looked around in confusion while Evie's eyes grew wide.

“Ohhhh boy,” was all she said before following her niece upstairs, the other three right behind her. Once they all made it to Robby's room, they stopped at the sight that met them.

The three kids were standing at the wall that Robby had dedicated to all the heroes in his life, each of them replicated in action figures that may or may not have been commissioned especially for him.

“Look! Daddy and uncle Steve!” Becca cried as she saw the two figures (Robby refused to call them dolls) on the nightstand. The Steve one was identical to the real Steve, right down to the beard that covered his face. The Bucky one was also identical to the real Bucky, complete with fully movable Vibranium arm (that was specially made in Wakanda).

“Well, duh. Those two are the best, so of course they're gonna be right next to my bed, Becca!” Robby said snottily. Evie and Alice looked to their husbands and saw them both tear up at being called ‘the best’ by their son/nephew.

“That is adorable, but what did Becca mean when she said ‘say goodnight to everyone’?” Alice asked quietly. Evie turned to her and grinned.

“I think it's best if you three each take a kid and find out,” she replied. Each of them shot her a puzzled look as they walked into the room and Steve picked up Robby, Bucky took Becca, and Alice got Sarah. Robby reached up and grabbed the Ironman figure.

“Good night Uncle Tony,” he said, kissing and hugging it before handing it to Becca. “Good night Aunt Pepper. Good night Big Papa Howard and Big Mama Maria in the sky,” he added, tilting his head back and speaking to the ceiling. As if on cue, Steve, Bucky, and Alice all looked over at Evie, jaws dropped in shock and awe.

Something Evie caught on camera, as she was finally able to record Robby doing this.

One by one, each figurine was taken down, told ‘goodnight’ three times, and given three hugs and three kisses before being put back. What was even sweeter was the fact that each one was called by their real name, not their superhero one. Those who were deceased also got told goodnight, affectionately called ‘Uncle Pietro’, ‘Big Uncle Yondu’, ‘Big Uncle Odin’, ‘Big Auntie Frigga’, all the ‘Auntie Valkyries’, ‘Big Uncle T'Chaka’, ‘Big Uncle Ben��, ‘Big Grandma Sarah’, ‘Big Grandpa Joseph’, ‘Big Grandma Winifred’, ‘Big Grandpa George’, ‘Big Grandma Elizabeth’, ‘Big Grandpa Kevin’, ‘Big Auntie Becca’, and ‘Big Auntie Maggie’.

After all the figurines were placed back in their holders, the kids all squirmed down from their adults and ran to the nightstand. Robby grabbed the picture frame from it and began to kiss each person in the picture, telling Uncle Simon, Auntie Maggie, Auntie Kerry, Cousin Riley, Auntie Gail, and Cousin T'Zari goodnight before handing it to Becca and Sarah, who did the same.

Once everyone had been told goodnight, the kids each hugged Steve, Bucky, and Alice, bidding them goodnight as well, hugging and kissing them extra hard before running to Evie and doing the same thing. Once Robby was tucked in bed, the two girls and four adults left the room, and Evie made sure to capture the tears on her husband, sister and brother-in-law’s faces as their parents had been included by their children.

Out in the hallway, Evie downloaded the video to FRIDAY's server before sending it to every member of the Team, all of the Defenders, to Wakanda, and to the Benatar, wherever the hell it was.

After Sarah was tucked in and the Barnes family left, she and Steve laid down for bed. Steve was silent for quite some time before he finally spoke, his voice cracking.

“You told them?” was all he said, to which she nodded.

“Of course. Sarah wanted to know who she was named after, so I sat them both down and told them about your parents, Bucky's and Alice's. Then, they wanted to know why T'Challa's daddy wasn't here but his mommy was, and they wondered about Thor and Loki's mommy and daddy, so I just explained everything to them. They took it all in, eager eyes and everything.” Steve was silent again for a while.

“Howard and Maria?” That was the trickier thing to explain.

“They know that a guy who looks like Uncle Bucky hurt Howard and Maria and made them go to sleep forever, and that's why Uncle Tony isn't very good friends with Uncle Bucky.” Steve stared at her for what seemed like hours before speaking.

“That's….probably the best way you could have explained it. Good job,” he said, squeezing her.

“Thanks. Those kids are so much smarter than you think. Robby knew we were having that fight, and he understood that Daddy had said some things that hurt Mommy, but didn't mean to. That being said, I don't think the concept of brainwashing is something a five-year-old would understand, but I could be wrong. I'd much rather wait to explain it to them properly until they're older.” Steve nodded in agreement before snuggling into Evie's side and they both fell asleep.

***********

Shuri pulled up the video file from Evie and read the accompanying text. She then went to find her brother, sister-in-law, nephew, mother, and Okoye to show them as well.

“This is a video that I just received from Evie, and this is what she wrote: To brighten your day and to show how much you mean to us.” She then played the video for them.

“Okoye, are you crying?” T'Challa asked incredulously after the video was done.

“Absolutely not. I just have...something in my eye.” The General wiped her eyes as she turned away. Gail giggled.

“Oh, I must tell Evie and Alice that,” she said before pulling out her phone and sending a message to them.

“It is good to know that we are never forgotten by our friends,” T'Challa said as he hugged her.

“Mama! Tell my cousins I say good morning to them!” T'Zari exclaimed brightly.

“Of course my darling,” she cooed as she sent yet another text overseas. “That did brighten our day.” They continued through the palace, wanting to spend the day together.

************

“Hey assholes, we gotta incoming message from Terra,” Quill shouted over his shoulder to his fellow Guardians. Groot, Rocket, Drax, Mantis, Gamora, and Nebula all joined him at the holoscreen and read the text.

“‘To brighten your day and to show how much you mean to us’? What the hell is that suppose ta mean?” Rocket grumbled. Quill shrugged.

“How would something brighten our day? Is it a light of some sort?” Drax asked.

“I am Groot,” came a reply from the back.

“Peter, just play the video,” Gamora sighed.

“Alright. Oh, it looks like it's from Evie, Captain America's wife.” At this, Rocket perked up.

“She gives the best head scratches,” he said with a longing sigh.

They all chuckled as the video began to play. Once they saw Robby grab the Quill figurine and hug and kiss it so tenderly, they all began to tear up as their own were given the same loving treatment. Quill burst into tears as Yondu was also told good night, as it had been years since the man had died.

“That was...the cutest thing I've ever seen,” Gamora said softly after the video was over.

“I am Groot,”  Groot said, wiping what looked like tree sap from his eyes.

“I've never been called Auntie before,” Nebula said quietly from the corner. Gamora walked over and hugged her.

“Me neither. It felt pretty good too.” Loud sniffles were coming from Rocket and Peter, who both appeared to try and hide their emotions.

“Who do those little gargoyles think they are, calling us all ‘Uncle’ and ‘Auntie’ like we're all some big family?” Rocket grumbled angrily as he wiped tears away. Gamora scratched his head and he turned away, walking to the sleeping quarters muttering about ‘family and how it felt good to have one’.

“I can't believe they remembered Yondu,” Quill stammered as he cried. Gamora came to comfort him too, patting his back.

“How did that brighten our day? All that did was make me feel happy,” Drax said from right next to them.

“It made your day better, right? Well on Terra, ‘brighten your day’ means ‘make your day better’,” Quill explained, his voice muffled as he cried into Gamora's shoulder.

“Oh. Well, then yes, that did brighten our day,” Drax said loudly as he too walked to the sleeping quarters.

The rest of the Guardians all stood in silence as they came to terms that they had a family again, after losing their own so long ago.

***********

“Sam! Come see what Evie just sent us!” Kerry called from their room. A few moments later Sam walked in, ready for bed.

“What is it?” he asked, kissing her sweetly.

“It's a video to ‘brighten our day’,” she replied, pressing play. They watched it in silence, both of them tearing up when they and their unborn baby boy were mentioned.

“Oh my god. That is the cutest fecking thing I've ever seen,” Kerry said shakily once the video was done. Sam nodded, unable to speak.

“It's good to know Riley is already so loved before he officially gets here,” he said after a while. The expectant parents snuggled in bed, smiles on their faces as they fell asleep.

************

“Hey everyone, Evie just sent us a video. Let's watch it!” Peter called through the Compound. The Team assembled in the common room, ready to watch. FRIDAY began to play it, and Tony was a mess within the first five minutes, unashamedly sobbing into Rhodey's shoulder as his parents were so affectionately wished goodnight.

Thor and Loki were the next to choke up as their mother and father were mentioned, followed by Natasha. She was used to being called Auntie Nat by the kids, but to see them send her such love was enough to crack her tough exterior.

Wanda burst into tears as her brother was also wished goodnight, as she missed him terribly. Peter and Aunt May were there, as May and Bruce were still dating. To hear Ben be mentioned brought tears to their eyes as well, Bruce included.

The video was done playing, and everyone sat in stunned silence.

“Yeah, that just made everything that we do worth it. Those kids look up to us, and I'll be damned if I let them down, “ Rhodey declared, patting a still sobbing Tony on the back. Everyone nodded their agreement, then slowly, one by one, they all went to sleep, sweet dreams aplenty.

#

The next morning, Evie woke to her phone going off, the notification tone repeating every few seconds. She grabbed it and unlocked it, looking at all of the messages on the screen.

“Steve, wake up,” she urged, grabbing her husband's shoulder and shaking him. He snaked his arms around her and pulled her close, throwing a leg over hers.

“Five more minutes,” he mumbled into her neck before covering every inch he could reach in kisses. He began to grind his hips into hers, his arousal growing by the moment.

“Steve…” she trailed off as his left hand came up to cradle her face while he kissed her deeply. He took advantage of her distraction to climb over top of her, grinding his erection into her even more. Evie wrapped her arms around his back, reveling in the way his muscles moved under her fingertips. Her hands slowly made their way to his pants, intent on removing them as her earlier preoccupation was forgotten as they continued kissing.

“Uncle Steve! Get off Auntie Evie! You're gonna hurt her!” came the outraged cry from the doorway as Becca ran into the room. Evie jumped, causing her teeth to nick Steve's lip. He quickly got off of her, sitting up in bed as Alice and Bucky entered soon after their daughter, bursting into laughter as Steve's blush covered his upper body. Evie quickly sat up as well and swung her legs over Steve's lap to help hide his erection from their niece.

“Becca! What have we told you about coming into our room without knocking?” she scolded the little girl. “What if I or your uncle were getting dressed? We don't want you to see us naked, so you have to knock first.” Becca bowed her head.

“Sorry, Auntie Evie. I was just so excited to tell you about what Auntie Gail said about Miss Okoye,” she replied. Evie sighed before holding her arms out for her niece.

“It's okay, but that's one of the rules, remember? We all have to knock before opening someone's door,” she said as she hugged the little girl.

“Becca, she's right. You wouldn't want her or Uncle Steve to just walk into your room while you were getting dressed, right?” Bucky asked his daughter. Becca's eyes grew big as she understood the issue.

“No. Okay, I'll knock every time, I promise.” Evie hugged her again before kissing the top of her head.

“Good deal. Why don't you go hang with Sarah? I'm sure she's awake.” Becca was out the door before Evie got the whole sentence out. Once she was gone, Steve got out of bed, holding a pillow over his crotch as he walked past Bucky and Alice as he headed to the bathroom.

“Why the hell are you hiding it from me? It's not like I don't know what one looks like,” Bucky directed at his brother's back.

“Yeah, well my sister doesn't need to see it though,” he shot back over his shoulder as he threw the pillow at Bucky, shutting the door. Alice shuddered as she climbed up next to Evie.

“Yeah, I really don't need to see him like that,” she agreed. Bucky rolled his eyes.

“What? We're all adults here,” he argued. It was Evie's turn to roll her eyes.

“Yeah, but you wouldn't want me to see you like that though, right?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Well no, but we're related.” Another eye roll from the doctor.

“They are too, because of us, so it's the same thing, moron.” Bucky flipped her off before calling over his shoulder.

“Having problems in there, Stevie?” Evie couldn't hear her husband's response, but judging by the blush that covered Alice's face and Bucky's laugh, it was pretty filthy, even for Steve. “I think we're gonna go hang with the little monkeys so you can go help him out.” He stalked to the bed and swept Alice into his arms and walked out.

Taking that as her cue, Evie went into the bathroom, walking up behind Steve, who stood in front of the toilet. She grabbed his hands and turned him towards her, the tent in his pants quite noticeable

“Here, let me,” she said as she sank to her knees.

**********

Evie followed the voices of her kids and niece downstairs, finding them, Alice and Bucky in the kitchen, eating breakfast.

“Everything okay?” Bucky asked teasingly. Evie smiled at him.

“Oh yeah. You know better than anyone about that super soldier stamina, so we had to take care of his issue a few times,” she replied with a wink, making Alice blush.

“Eww. So anyway, we didn't know that you had sent that video to everyone last night,” she said, narrowing her eyes at her sister. Evie shrugged.

“What? I thought that everyone would enjoy it. Sorry for not asking before I sent it.” She set about making a cup of coffee for herself and a glass of milk for Steve.

“Thanks, baby,” he said as he walked in and grabbed it from her. He wasn't a fan of coffee, so it was milk or water for him.

“Welcome, babe.” She kissed him sweetly before walking over to Becca. “So, what did Auntie Gail say about Miss Okoye?” The six-year-old grinned brightly, her father's smile copied perfectly into her little face.

“Auntie Gail said that Miss Okoye cried when she saw your video, Auntie Evie!” she exclaimed. Evie looked around at the other adults in shock. Making Okoye, the General of the Dora Milaje, cry over a video was an impressive feat.

“Uh, wow. That is pretty amazing,” Evie replied in a daze. Becca nodded enthusiastically.

“Yep and cousin T'Zari said hi to us too!” All of the adults were glad the super kids would all grow up so close. Steve had opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted when the front door opened. The four adults went to see who their unannounced visitor was.

“Brighten our day?! Tug at our heartstrings is more like it!” Maggie cried as she stomped in, followed by Simon, Kerry, and Sam.

“Yeah, that was pretty heavy-handed, Evie,” Sam said, closing the door behind him. “Kerry woke up crying a few times over ‘how fecking cute’ it was.” Steve and Bucky grinned at the thought of Sam having to deal with a pregnant partner and the accompanying mood swings.

“Sorry. I didn't mean to make her or Okoye cry,” Evie apologized.

“Wait...Okoye cried?! Wow,” Simon exclaimed, impressed.

“Apparently.” Her phone dinged again and she looked at the messages. “Oh yeah. I was going through the responses I got when someone distracted me,” she said, glaring at Steve.

“What? I had needs, and you took care of them,” he answered with a shrug. “What did everyone say?” Evie scrolled through her notifications, her smile growing with each one.

“So Okoye cried, so did Quill and Rocket. Tony sobbed, and Thor and Loki got choked up. Oh my gosh…..Nat cried. I made Natasha Romanoff cry.” Evie honestly didn't know what to say. She didn't mean to make anyone cry with the video. She just wanted to show everyone how much they meant to the kids.

“Simon cried too, Evie. Good job,” Maggie congratulated her. The offended look on the burly man's face was priceless as she sold him out. Bucky, Steve, and Sam burst out laughing, while Kerry and Alice smiled sweetly at him.

“Awww, Si. I've made you cry, and now Evie has. Did you cry when Gail got married? Will you cry when Kerry gets married?” Alice asked. He scowled at her.

“Shut it, Al. For the record, I wasn't crying last night, I just had….allergies,” Simon explained.

Which, in the presence of a doctor, probably wasn't a good idea.

“Do I need to prescribe you something for those then?” Evie said, slipping into Doctor mode. He stuttered at being caught in a lie.

“Yeah, some time to hang with all of the kids so he's not such a fecking moody bastard,” Kerry quipped, making all of the adults laugh. “Oh. Riley must want to play too.” She rubbed her belly, looking uncomfortable.

“Everything okay in there?” Evie was on edge. She couldn't exactly diagnose anything with Riley or Kerry, as obstetrics was out of her league. The redhead sighed.

“Yeah, he's just over eager to get here. I'll be so glad when he does though.” Sam rubbed her back soothingly as she took some calming breaths.

“Alright. Just don't go into labor yet. He's not done cooking and there's no one here that's qualified to deliver him,” Evie warned. They all gave her the same look. “What?”

“You are the most qualified person here,” Alice insisted. “None of us have gone to medical school and only two of us have given birth.” Evie's eyes grew big as she realized her sister was right.

“True, but let's leave me as Plan Z. You'll be at the Compound when you go into labor I'm sure.” They all nodded in agreement. They've had enough excitement to last them a lifetime.

“Okay, enough chit chat. I've got a nephew and some nieces I need to see,” Simon declared, pushing past them all and heading towards the kitchen. Evie chuckled as they all followed him. If he's this whipped before fatherhood, then he'll be a downright puddle of mush when he and Maggie have a baby. 

Evie hung back and watched everyone in the kitchen, happy to see all the love and affection they all had for each other.

@suz-123 @avenger-nerd-mom @aglarelen @amaranthuspetals @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme @bad-wolf87 @bolontiku @brighterlightss @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @buckyywiththegoodhair @caplansteverogers @captainradicalpassion @caramell0w @celeb-fess @delicatecapnerd @doloreschanal @donnaintx @earinafae @etts21 @ghostssss @girlbehindthecameraposts @gramaeryebard @jhangelface0523 @kimistry27 @liz-pbnz @loki-god-of-my-life @magellan-88 @marvel-trash07 @pegasusdragontiger @punkfrog @ruinerofcheese @ryverpenrad @sarahp879 @silver-starburst @the-real-kellymonster @4theluvofall  @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety  @stars8melanin  @getinmelanin011  @honey-bee-holly   @lostinspace33  @dustycelt  @avengedqueen26 @amandarosemire  @diinofayce  @sillinessinseattle @lookwhatyoumademequeue  @jewels2876

[starrbomb]

Spy au part 4

It’s been awhile since I’ve written anything for this au, doesn’t mean that I’ve given up on it. I always keep my aus close to my heart. ❤️

•the war is over, after over two years of constant fighting and close calls, they finally beat the empire.

•lotor And Zarkon are locked up in the most secure prisons in the galaxy (ironic since it’s prisons that the empire made.) and haggar had lost herself to the reality rift that she had tried so hard to regain.

• of course, that doesn’t mean that all of the battles are over. There will still be generals of Zarkon’s command that will try and free him or to take his position as ‘emperor’. And there is still some ways to go to bring complete peace and harmony back to the galaxy like Allura wants. But even she agrees that they all should go home.

• by now, whatever rift that was made from Lance’s ‘betrayal’ and the fall have been forgiven, and with the help of his team, Lance has made great strides in recovering from his time with the galra. He still gets nightmares and flashbacks from time to time, but he doesn’t hesitate anymore about finding one of the others to help him through them.

• and of course everyone is excited and relieved to be able to go back to earth, even Allura and Coran are excited to see and learn more about earth. Matt and Mr. Holt, who they had been able to save and have them join their merry band of rebellion are especially ready to go home.

•but Lance can’t help but worry about going back, even though he’s so excited to see his family and his Veradero beach, he’s changed since the last time he was on earth.

• when the castle touches down on earth, the team warns Allura and Coran and Kolivan (who had insisted on coming with them to be a representative for the blade) about what they’re about to walk into.

•camera, microphones, people yelling over one another, it’s what they all expected when they walked it onto the crowds of reporters.

•unexpectedly though, iverson and his army of garrison teachers and security bulldozes their way through and usher them away from the cameras and news crews.

•of course iverson takes them to the the garrison, and they’re all ushered into a quarantine medic area. One by one, they do extensive exams and tests to see if they contracted any alien diseases while they were out saving the universe.

• when they get to Shiro and Lance, they are both hesitant to allow them complete access to their bodies, but they both know that sooner or later they’re going to have to show their scars and prosthetics.

• when they do relent and undress, the scientists and medics practically pounce on them, trying to collect as many samples and tests as possible about their prosthetics.

•same goes for the Alteans and Kolivan, and they almost get corralled out of the same room as the team, but thankfully Hunk and Keith catch on quick and make sure to put themselves right next to them for each and every test the garrison wants, not letting any of their alien companions out of their sight and explaining some of the tests to them if they have questions.

•once the garrison has checked and doubled and doubled tested all of them and given them a clean bill of health, iverson decides that he wants some answers. Now.

• they do their best to answer them, but they obviously don’t answer all of his questions either because they’re to personal or they just don’t know how to explain or answer them.

•some where along the line, iverson’s questions turn more into accusations and interrogation, a lot of it going to Lance since “he was the one that took them off planet to fight” and “he put himself and his team in unnecessary danger when interfereing with garrison affairs.”

•and the team is just gobsmack to see this man place all the blame of something that was not any of their fault onto Lance.

•of course Kolivan, being a leader himself, calls bullshit on iverson right away, proudly stating that if Lance hadn’t driven his team and Shirogane back into space, the earth would have most likely been conquered by the empire they had been fighting against by now. He explains about how Lance has faces his own demons and more while fighting, and even after all of it he was always willing to offer his support and reassurances to his own men.

•shiro follows up with times when it was because of Lance that the team survived and when the team was able to save a planet thanks to Lance’s quick thinking.

•after having taken his own medicine, iverson allows for civilians to see them. Aka, all of their families have been waiting to finally see their children that they thought they had lost.

•Colleen holt immediately crashes into her finally reunited family, crying and threatening them that of any of them ever disappear like that again, she’ll hunt them down herself and kill them. Pidge and Matt just laugh as they hug their mother while Mr.Holt is just holding on to her like it’s the last thing he’ll do.

•Hunk’s family comes in next and makes a beeline straight for him, swallowing him up in tears and arms and they’re mumbling questions as they kiss his hair line. His little sister asking all sorts of questions about where he’s been.

•and then, it’s Lance’s family. But instead of the giant crowd of people that he was expecting, it’s his mom that walks in alone. And just staring at him as if he’s risen from the dead. She tackles him, nearly knocking him off balance, and crying into his metal shoulder. She explains through her tears that the others are waiting just outside the door, but giving her a chance to have a moment with him.

•as if on que, the rest of his family barrel through the doors and are either hugging him, asking him what happened, or trying to climb up on him.

•when his mom gets a good look at his arm, she holds it in her hand as if it could break at any second. It’s oddly silent as his brothers and sisters and grandparents look at his arm, and Lance isn’t exactly sure what to say.

•thankfully, Allura and Coran decide to come up to them and actually apologize for taking their son away to fight in some war they should have never been apart of. Lance’s mama immediately tells them that they have nothing to be sorry for, she knows her son well enough to know that he would have fought even if he hadn’t been asked by them.

•she also pretty much adopts the two Alteans into the family right on the spot and Lance’s niece and nephew don’t hesitate to ask them a dozen questions a minute.

•it’s hard at first, getting back to earth and trying to find some sort of normalcy. Since Shiro and Keith don’t actually have any place to go, they move in with Lance’s family as well as allura and coran. and in between the constant interviews and meetings with dignitaries and news reporters, they don’t really get much rest and relaxation than any of them would have liked.

•but when they do have a few days to themselves; no meetings or interviews or any sort of business to attend to, The team and their families meet up on Veradera Beach and rent a boat to sail to a hidden beach away from tourists and the like and just have a bonfire, retelling their adventures to their families and explaining some of the more bizarre things they’ve seen.

•Allura and Coran asking all sorts of questions about earth culture and explaining some of their own whenever anyone asks.

•whenever someone does ask about Shiro’s or Lance’s prosthetics, the team will get quiet before redirecting he conversation to something more upbeat and fun. They may have worked through the pain and problems it caused as a team, but they can never bring themselves to tell their families the full truth about Lance’s changes, both physical and mental.

[donutpwns]

Journey to the Roots Part 4

Part 3 - Part 5

When he was twenty-five, he’d been forced to make a deal with a high ranked member of a drug cartel that had shared his cell in a Columbian prison. They’d helped break him out of the prison and set him up with a new false identity and all he had to do was be his schmoozing, showman self to get a few things on a plane and into America. Stan had done it; prison was hell no matter the country. He remembered vomiting from the stress and the fear in the tiny toilet of the air plane. He could still feel the cold metal of a gun pressed to his side as he handed off the package to his contact in the states.; could still feel the white hot blast of pain to his face that had led him to waking up bound in the sunbaked trunk of a car. The way his jaw had ached and his stomach had cramped as he swallowed hard plastic and his own blood but kept biting. That all too familiar moment where you’re pretty sure you’re going to die and all the romance of the idea has fled. Stan had defined that as his quintessential rock bottom, the worse always implied when he assured someone that he’d had it. The pinnacle of fear.

But shit if this didn’t feel a thousand times worse.

Ten years. It had been ten long, long years since he’d last seen his brother closing the curtains on him. How many times had he tried to call Ford only to lose his nerve? How many times had he punched in all but the last number before his shaking hands slammed the receiver back down? Too scared to reach out to his brother, even when he’d finally escaped that trunk and made it to a new town where no one knew any of his names. Too scared to even look at the photo that was now folded up in his wallet at times.

He believed what he’d told Mabel, about the other person needing to love you enough to forgive you, but that didn’t make him want it any less. He’d been a stupid teenager and while he regretted what had happened, felt bad for ruining Ford’s shot at something better, he refused to accept that he’d deserved what he’d got. Looking at Ford’s house, while more than a little hermit-esque, he was sure Ford had been enough of a success without his big fancy school. Their parents must be awfully proud; though Ford never really spoke with any of the family. At least, that’s what Shermie had said the one time Stan had seen him in the last ten years.

Speaking of Shermie…Mabel is staring wide eyed out the window, face pressing up against the glass. Once this was all done, Stan really needs to reach out to his older brother. Properly meet his nephew; let him know that he’s a good kid and gonna do great things. He likes his future great niece and will admit, only to himself, that he might actually miss the knucklehead when she’s gone back home. But hey, he only has to wait a couple of decades to see her again. Stan’s good at waiting. He’s been waiting ten years to see Ford again, what’s that a few times over for someone that was actually happy to see him?

He’s making his way around the car to help her force her door open over a snow bank when the door to the house opens. Stan freezes with his hand on the door handle; he feels like a deer in the headlights. Which is pretty accurate, given there’s his brother with a crossbow pointed at him.

“Good to see you too, Bro.” He calls over to him because what else is there to say? He resumes pulling open the door for Mabel and steps aside to let her out. He almost laughs at the yelp she lets out when she jumps into the snow, white going up nearly to the edge of her skirt. “Wouldn’t suppose you have a time traveling kid that matches mine?”

“Grunkle Stan?” a boy pokes his head around Ford’s legs. He’s a lot paler and more noodly looking than Mabel, but the resemblance is otherwise uncanny. He’s got this stupid smile on his face when he meets Stan’s eyes; once he spots Mabel though his whole face lights up. Ford tries to grab him as he shoves past him, fumbling that stupid crossbow, but he’s too slow. “Mabel!”

Mabel lets out another one of those god awful shrieking squeals and starts kicking her way through the snow towards her brother. “Dipper! Oh my gosh! I knew you’d be here!” once she’s close enough she practically leaps, tackling the boy so they both hit the ground, sending up a puff of loose snow. “I missed you so much you dork!”

“I missed you too, you dummy!” they’re still on the ground, collapsing into laughter though what’s funny who knows.

Stan watches them with a fond smile before looking awkwardly over at his own twin. To his surprise Ford is watching him and another guy with, wow, the world’s biggest nose standing beside him. Unable to stop himself, Stan lifts a hand in a half-hearted wave. So. What was he supposed to do now? Was Stan supposed to go or…?

The kids are still laughing in the snow. Stan shoves all of the confusing Ford Feelings to the back of his mind and makes his way over to them. “Hey, c’mon, you knuckleheads. Mabel’s already sick, let’s not—”

“HAHAHAHAHA!!!”

“STANLEY GET BACK!”

He hears Ford’s shout about half a second before he feels the pain. He jumps back on instinct; when he lands his left leg gives out from the stabbing pain and he lands flat on his ass. Sticking out of his calf is a long, silver knitting needle, with a spreading circle of red staining his jeans. He stares at it before looking up at Mabel. What the actual fuck?!

She’s staring at him with a grin so wide it looks painful, especially coupled with her cheeks appled by the cold. And her eyes—one eye, the right eye; it looks like a cat’s eye, pupil slitted, and almost seems to be glowing a sick infected yellow color. She’s got Dipper’s hand in her own and he’s wearing a matching grin, only it’s his left eye that’s wrong. They stand together, hands never unclasping.

Stan tries to scramble back away from them, laughing nervously, “Hey, sweetheart! What’s going on? C’mon, it’s me, your favorite Younkle Stan!”

They throw their heads back and let out another laugh in sync and, okay, Stan is over this creepy ass Shining shit already. “WOW, I FORGOT HOW DUMB YOU WERE BACK THEN. NOT THAT YOU’RE NOT AN IDIOT IN THE FUTURE TOO! HA!” their voices sound off, distorted and just…different.

A bolt fires into the snow between where the twins stand and where Stan is on the ground. They all look at where Ford is loading another bolt into the crossbow while stepping down from the porch. Stan realizes that if it wasn’t for the bags under his eyes and insane scientist hair, his brother might actually look cool. When the bow is reloaded he aims it at the kids and growls, “Bill!”

Thank Moses the other guy, who is still on the porch, looks as confused as Stan feels.

The twins tilt their heads in Ford’s direction, grins stretching impossibly further. “FORDSY! GOOD OL SIXER! OOH THIS IS DEFINITELY MY FAVORITE VERSION OF YOU! HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN FOR YOU? NOT LONG ENOUGH FOR YOU I’LL BET!” The twins laugh Bill’s laugh together. Mabel starts tugging on Dipper’s cheek with the hand not holding his while she continues, making the skin painfully red. Does he not feel that? Do neither of them feel the cold? “OOH, ARE YOU GOING TO SHOOT ME?! GO AHEAD! I AM DYING TO KNOW WHAT PAIN FEELS LIKE WITH TWO BODIES! WELL, I WON’T BE THE ONE THAT DIES, BUT SEMANTICS, EH, SIXER?”

That’s Stan’s name for Ford.

Ford hesitates a few feet from them, crossbow wavering. He meets Stan’s eyes briefly before scowling back at the two kids. Dipper has started tugging on Mabel’s hair while the two of them say ‘ow’ in laughing tones. “How—I did the ritual!”

“SEE, THAT’S THE PROBLEM WITH YOU, FORDSY. YOU SEE WHAT YOU WANNA SEE!” Dipper shakes his hand, long brown strands falling from his fist. Each of their non-fucked up eyes are streaming tears down their cheeks, Stan notices. “YOU WANNA BE THE SMARTEST ONE IN THE ROOM SO EVERYONE ELSE IS AN IDIOT. WHICH THEY ARE, SO GOLD STAR THERE, BUT SO ARE YOU. THAT’S WHY YOU’RE SO EASY TO TRICK. YOU’RE TOO SMART TO FALL FOR EASY LIES SO YOU FALL FOR ALL OF THEM! AIN’T THAT RIGHT, STAN? THIS GUY KNOWS WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT.”

Having both yellow eyes on him is very unsettling, but Stan still hears the words. Number one rule to big cons: always let the smart ones lie to themselves. You give them a seed of something they want and they’ll make it blossom with their own rationalizations and justifications. Stupid people needed a story, a show, smart people needed to think it was their idea all along. If they don’t want to ask questions, they won’t.

Stan knew a thing or two about half ass cons.

Mabel lifts the hand holding Dipper’s and reaches into the sleeve, pulling out the knitting needle to match the one sticking out of Stan’s leg. Stan swallows around the lump in his throat as she touches it to her own throat. That yellow eye is open so wide; whatever is going on has to make them numb to feeling. Ford had said the name Bill earlier; was this what Mabel had been warning him about? Was this what Bill had done to Ford? The thought of it boils his blood because his brother is an ass but no one messed with the Pines family, not if Stan had a say in it.

Stan shoves past the pain in his leg to stand; he wants to pull the needle out but he doesn’t know how deep in it went, there’s a good chance it’s staunching the blood loss. He reminds himself that he’s had worse, reminds himself of the trunk, and convinces himself that this is no big deal. Time traveling niece and nephew apparently possessed by a conman demon. Alright. Stan can deal with this.

“Hey, uh, Bill, right?” he gives his best show grin, shoving all the anxiety and fear and general ‘what the fuck is my life right now’ to the back of his mind. There will be time for that later, there’s always time for everything later. “While I agree that my brother can be a dumbass, why don’t we put the knitting needle down?”

This time it’s Dipper that speaks while Mabel moves the needle to his throat. “AND THEN THERE’S THIS DOOFUS. LISTEN HERE, STANIEL, YOU WANT NO PART OF THIS. ALL YOU’RE GOING TO DO IS MAKE THINGS EVEN WORSE FOR EVERYONE, BUT HEY, WHAT’S NEW THERE?” Mabel twirls the needle between her fingers in a way that makes Stan think of when Ford and him would play board games as kids.

Stan’s jaw aches as he forces his grin to remain in place. He just needs time to think, just needs time. “Hey, you don’t know me.”

“OHOHO, I KNOW YOU MORE THAN YOU THINK. GIVE ME THIRTY YEARS AND I’LL KNOW YOU BETTER THAN YOU KNOW YOURSELF.” The twins wink their yellow eyes together. Did that count as a wink or a blink? The look back over to Ford again, “YOU STILL WITH US, SIXER? I’M SURE YOU’RE DYING TO TELL YOUR BROTHER TO GET LOST TOO. GET IN ON THIS!”

“Trust no one.” The look in Ford’s eyes is wild and he’s raising the crossbow again with no hesitation.

Stan swears and sticks a hand out towards his stupid idiot of a genius brother, “Shit, Ford, stop!”

----------

He’s not sure what he expected Stan to look like, if he ever saw his twin again. Sure, he expected the resemblance, identical twins and all, but…Stanley had always been the larger of the two of them. More muscle, more girth, more personality. Alpha Twin since the summer that he gained a fraction of an inch on Ford. Quick to make a fist or a joke, Stanley was larger than life, larger than their dead-end Glass Shard Beach, larger than a foolish dream to sail the world.

He didn’t seem so large climbing out of his run down old car, shoulders hunched as he moved to open the door. His clothes were filthy beneath a new looking jacket; his hair was long and probably as greasy as Ford’s had been that morning. He was still making jokes, though, which infuriated Ford beyond the surreal feeling of seeing him in the flesh. How could he be taking the situation so well? How long had he had the girl? Surely not the same amount of time Dipper had been with Ford; he refused to believe Stan could have accessed the situation and made his way here in such a short time.

He was so focused on puzzling out what to do with his own twin, he’d almost completely forgotten about the two kids that were rolling around in the snow. Hadn’t seen the flash of the needle, the glint of yellow eyes, with enough time to warn Stanley.

His brother certainly didn’t seem so large on the ground.

It shouldn’t be possible: he’d performed the ritual! Sure, there was traces of Bill but the boy said he’d been possessed once before so—but how was Bill possessing both children? Even Bill had his limits. He couldn’t possess without an agreement, and surely he couldn’t possess more than one person at a time. Bill was powerful, insane and conniving, but even he had limits and rules. It didn’t make sense! It was a trick! Another trick!

“SEE, THAT’S THE PROBLEM WITH YOU, FORDSY. YOU SEE WHAT YOU WANNA SEE!”

Was that the trick? He wanted to believe Dipper was his family? Someone so eager to help him; that respected his work on top of a mystery he could drown in. Could Bill have fooled his tests? He’d left the boy alone in his house for hours, what could he have done? Had he seen the portal? No, no, Ford would’ve noticed him going to the basement. Right? This was a trick, another trick. Bill had gotten Fiddleford back in his house and now Stanley here. It was a trick, to force Ford to do what he wanted.

They weren’t real. The kids weren’t real. They were part of the trick. It wasn’t real. None of this was real, it was a distraction, a trick. Stanley is talking with Bill because he doesn’t see, he’s being tricked too. His brother was stabbed and is talking to Bill and Ford has to stop it.

“YOU STILL WITH US, SIXER? I’M SURE YOU’RE DYING TO TELL YOUR BROTHER TO GET LOST TOO. GET IN ON THIS!”

Trust no one.

He levels the crossbow at the boy and pulls the trigger.

The bolt goes wide as he’s tackled from behind to face plant in the snow. He glares over his shoulder at Fiddleford who is currently trying to grab Ford’s wrists. Ford pulls away, stretching to try to grab the crossbow. “Damn it, get off, Fiddleford! You don’t understand! They’re not real! It’s a trick! I can’t let him get in!”

“Calm down, Stanford!” Fiddleford is a weedy man but, Ford remembers vaguely, spent his childhood wrestling hogs on his family’s farm, and puts up more of a fight than you’d expect. “I don’t know what’s going on, but they’re just children!” a knee digs into his back, Fiddleford’s hands pressing down hard on his shoulders.

“HAHA! YES! FIGHT FIGHT! BATTLE OF THE—HEY, BACK OFF, I’LL—HEY!” there’s an echoing scream followed by a sickening sound.

Ford gets his palms flat on the ground and tries to buck off Fiddleford. He has to stop Bill; he can’t let him hurt anyone else. This is all his fault. Stanley’s hurt and Bill is right there. He gets enough leverage to roll them, slamming his elbow against his former friend’s jaw in the process. He pins Fiddleford with a hand to the chest while he reaches for the crossbow and tries to avoid a punch aimed at his face.

“Hey, can you pause Nerd Death Match for a sec?” Ford looks up at the question; Stan has a limp child under each arm, leaning to put his weight on his uninjured leg. Both kids are covered in snow. Ford spots the glinting silver of the remaining knitting needle on the ground next to a pile of…oh, disgusting. There’s another puddle of sick not too far from the first. Stan is breathing heavy; oh that’s a lot of red staining his jeans and the snow. “They puked and passed out as soon as I pulled them apart. So that’s a thing. Big nose, help me get them inside? Or Ford, if you’re done trying to shoot our niece and nephew.”

Ford scowls as Fiddleford starts shoving at him, climbing off him. He brushes the snow off his front. “Stanley, you don’t understand the situation! They aren’t—”

“Yes they are, shut up. You can explain everything once we have them inside and I’ve had a chance to take care of my leg. I have a ton of questions about this Bill guy.” Stan’s tone is stern and exhausted. Ford notices for the first time the bags under his brother’s eyes. “Now will one of you please come and take one of these kids? I just drove sixteen hours straight and have been stabbed and they’re heavier than they look.”

Fiddleford moves around him to take the girl—Mabel?— from Stan, cradling her to his chest. Ford sees a trickle of red coming from her right eye and down her cheek. He sees the same on Dipper’s left cheek when Stan limps past him. Oh, right, his leg. Ford hurries on his heels into his house. “Stanley—”

“Shit, Ford, you live here?” Stan scoffs and Ford feels personally offended, as if Stan has any room to judge Ford’s living conditions wearing clothes that filthy. Stan turns and pushes Dipper’s limp form into Ford’s arms; Ford nearly drops him at the sudden weight. “Hold him for one second.” Then he’s behind the couch and kneeling.

A strangled noise escapes Ford when Stan lifts the back of the couch, dumping all the books onto the floor. He’s not entirely sure what books were on that couch but some could’ve been important. “Stanley, honestly, there’s no need—” Stan takes Dipper back; is Ford going to be able to get a full thought out at any point?

Stan and Fiddleford place the kids at opposite ends of the coach. Ford groans out a sigh before moving to grab his penlight from his study. When he comes back, Stan is seated on the coffee table and taking a small pocket knife to his jeans around the needle. He slits from the puncture down to the bottom of his pants then proceeds to roll the fabric up. The bleeding seems to have slowed a considerable amount and from what Ford can tell, the needle was in enough to stick back not too deep. His sock and shoe are soaked in blood.

He checks Dipper first, pulling both eyes open and shining his penlight in them. The pupils react normally and both are the usual brown if not bloodshot, though the sclera of the left is filled with blood from a burst vessel. He’s got smeared blood under his eye that Ford can’t help but wipe away with his sleeve. Mabel is much the same, only it’s her right eye that’s red and bloody. Both of their breathing is heavy but regular, same as their pulses. Ford thinks about what Stan said, about them collapsing when they’d been separated, and looks for something to use as a separator for them.

“Uhh, Stanley, was it? Are you sure about that?” Fiddleford speaks behind him and he turns to see Stan holding the flame of a lighter up to the blade of his pocket knife.

Ford blanches; Stanley cannot be serious! “Stanley, there’s a hospital in town, we can just—”

“Nah.” He interrupts him again; Ford is going to strangle him. “Hospitals are bills and, more importantly, questions. This is fine.” The blade is black by the time he sets the lighter down. Ford himself winces when Stan grabs the needle. Then, in a single fluid motion, the needle is out and the blade it against the small puncture wound, Stan echoing the hiss it makes against his skin. The smell of burning meat hits Ford’s nose and he nearly gets sick.

Fiddleford goes white and slumps to the floor. He pulls his knees up to his chest and holds his head in his hands. “I knew I shouldn’t a’come here. Two hours and already so much I want to forget…eyes, eyes watching…” he dissolves into mumbles, though Ford thinks he hears “beast with just one eye” mixed in there.

Ford clears his throat, eyes locked on where Stan is burning himself. The skin is an angry red when Stan pulls away the knife, a sealed but puffed out circle in the middle. It disturbs him that Stan even knows how to do that. “Uh…” he swallows, “Fiddleford, maybe you could, um, get my brother some bandages from my bathroom?”

“What? Oh. R-right.” Fiddleford nods and looks grateful for the excuse to get out of the room for a minute. “I’ll, uh, be right back. W-with bandages.”

He stares at Stan who is purposely not looking at him, staring instead at the children. Unable to find a suitable separator, Ford just sits himself on the middle cushion between then. That gets Stan to look at him briefly before putting his focus on Dipper. Ford’s not sure what to say at this point. He’d planned how to ask Stan to take the journal away but not how to tell him anything else. He’d never planned on Stan finding out about Bill; never planned on Stan finding out about anything. Bill was supposed to be his burden to bear alone. His sin to atone for. But now his brother did know, and Fiddleford, and the kids if they were in fact real. Which, now that he was given a chance to calm down from the mania, he was coming back around to the idea of. If not, he had a knife in his boot and a gun tucked under the cushion he was sitting on for emergencies, and Stan apparently had a knife too.

“So, uh. This Bill guy.” Stan is the first to speak, it turns out. He’s rubbing at the skin above his wound. “That’s what that was, right? Cause I understand very little about what’s going on but yesterday that kid appeared in my car and told me she was from the future and you were in danger from a guy named Bill.”

Ford fidgets, tapping his thumb to each of his fingers. “She told you about him?” he looks over at the girl; she’s shifted onto her side and curled up, one foot stuck out until it’s nearly touching Ford’s thigh. Her face is starting to return to a more normal color now that she’s out of the cold but she’s still shivering. “It’s…very complicated, Stanley. I’ve made a lot of mistakes and apparently you’ve been dragged into them.”

Stan reaches a hand out and, for a second, Ford thinks he’s going to squeeze his arm or something like that. But no, he touches Dipper’s forehead instead, pushing the boy’s hair out of his face. Ford’s not sure why he’s disappointed; he’s still very angry with his twin and if he’d had a choice Stan wouldn’t even be here. “Well, we better figure out how to clean up your damn mess, Stanford, before you get these kids killed.”

lsdlocke����b

[heavyarethecrowns]

Not a Whinger, but a Wounded Warrior.

By: Angela Levin, Daily Mail on Sunday (June 25, 2017)

Following the loss of his military career, Prince Harry found himself directionless

He admits: ‘I spent many years kicking my heels and I didn’t want to grow up’

Harry partied with a dubious set of rich friends, and drank and smoked heavily

The junior royal was also bottling up his grief over the 1997 death of his mother

But he has faced his demons and worked hard to overcome them

Writer Angela Levin, who interviewed Harry, said: ‘I believe him to be not a “clown Prince” or a moaner, but a wounded Prince’

There is a moment in the controversial stage play, King Charles III, when Prince Harry renounces his Royal life to become a commoner.

It proves to be a brief departure, and the fictional Harry soon resumes his proper role. Yet there is more than a grain of truth in the drama, which was adapted for TV this year.

Because Harry’s search for a role has been long and fraught, and there was indeed a period, however brief, when the young Prince did consider trying to make his mark outside the Royal Family– or ‘The Firm’ – as he told me frankly when we met: ‘There was a time when… I wanted out.’

Harry’s battle for a role was at the heart of my Newsweek interview with the Prince last week, when he made the seemingly unguarded suggestion that no one in the Royal Family would wish to accept the crown, given free choice.

Criticism rained down as he was accused of being a whinger, of failing to give due respect to the institution which has brought him so much privilege.

But I believe he was guilty of no more than thoughtfulness and honesty – about an emotional past that binds the younger Royals together.

After two meetings at Kensington Palace, and having accompanied the Prince to a series of engagements, I know that the true measure of Prince Harry lies in something else he told me. I suspect it goes to the heart of his brother William, too.

Halfway through our first meeting, Harry stopped, looked me in the eyes and, out of the blue, said: ‘William and I were 14 and 12 when our mother died and I had to walk a long way behind her coffin, surrounded by thousands of people watching me while millions more did on television.

‘I don’t think any child should be asked to do that, under any circumstances. It certainly wouldn’t happen today.’

It was a burst of openness and maturity that belies his reputation of the past. For I believe him to be not a ‘clown Prince’ or a moaner, but a wounded Prince.

And who would not be scarred to lose a mother at such a young age? 

Harry, 32, has reached an age where he understands this too. Indeed, it is this empathy for those in trouble which makes him such an inspiring figure – finally giving him the role he longs for.

In our time together, he was full of self-recognition: laughing at his impatience and admitting how difficult the past had been. At Eton, he said, he just wanted to be a ‘bad boy’.

And most tellingly, he summed up those lost years when his beloved career in the Army was taken from him. ‘I spent many years kicking my heels,’ he said. ‘And I didn’t want to grow up.’

We first met earlier this year in a smart sitting room in Kensington Palace, home not just to Harry but to the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge.

Wearing an open-necked, immaculately pressed ice-blue shirt and brown chinos, he leapt out of one of the pale peach armchairs and strode towards me, smiling and with a hand outstretched.

‘I’ve seen you following me about,’ he said, ‘and wondered if you’d like to ask me any questions. But first have you seen The Crown? [the Netflix drama about the House of Windsor].

'It’s great but I wish they’d stopped at the end of the first series. They absolutely must not move on to the younger generation.’

There would be plenty to go on if they did – as would become clear in the course of our interview. 

Certainly, he was happy to acknowledge his own weaknesses.

‘I can do most things with my hands. My next challenge is to learn to play the guitar. But I get very agitated if I am stuck in front of a computer for long.

‘The passion in me, I can give some of that to other people… well, anyone I am with – but I can sometimes get too impatient.

‘I love to see people excel and succeed. If you give care and consideration to younger people they will flourish. Anyone can do anything if you put your mind to it. You just need passion and belief.

'If you want to be a success you have to be a team player. No one can do anything by themselves. I was taught that in the Army.’

He had loved his military career and felt its loss keenly. Harry found himself directionless. ‘I spent many years kicking my heels and I didn’t want to grow up,’ he admits.

But that was to change. He sought counseling. And determined to be more constructive, he began to think more widely. 

Harry even questioned whether life as a junior Royal would allow him to use his talents effectively, perhaps with a civilian role.

‘There was a time I felt I wanted out,’ he says. ‘But then I decided to stay in [The Firm] and work out a role for myself.’ More than anything else, he says, that he was motivated to do something to help his grandmother, the Queen, and charity work came to his rescue.

‘We are incredibly passionate with our charities and they have been chosen because they are on the path shown to me by our mother,’ he says. ‘I love charity stuff and meeting people.’

Harry particularly dislikes ‘feeling I live in a goldfish bowl’, saying: ‘I am determined to have a relatively normal life and if I am lucky enough to have children they can have one too. We don’t want to be just a bunch of celebrities but instead use our role for good.’

Much attention has been drawn to his comment: ‘Is there any one of the Royal Family who wants to be King or Queen? I don’t think so but we will carry out our duties at the right time.’

Yet the truth is that Harry is surprisingly thoughtful about the future of the Monarchy, saying that he and William would like to pull it into the 21st Century.

We want to make sure the Monarchy lasts and are passionate about what it stands for,’ he explains. ‘We feel that the British public and the whole world needs institutions like this – but it can’t go on as it has done under the Queen.

There will be changes and pressure to get them right. Things are moving so fast, especially because of social media, so we are involved in modernising the Monarchy.

‘We are not doing this for ourselves but for the greater good of the people and the Monarchy we represent. There is so much negative in the world – we as a family try to bring something positive.’

Does he mind dropping from third to fifth in line to the throne after William and Kate’s children, George and Charlotte?

‘The reason I am now fifth is because of my nephew and niece and I could never wish them away,’ he says. ‘They are the most amazing things ever.’

In addition to these formal interviews, I spent about a year accompanying Harry on engagements around the country. He is a remarkable operator.

There were a few techniques he used. One was to leap from the official car, rush towards whoever is in charge and firmly shake their hand.

It gives the genuine impression that he couldn’t wait to get there and is delighted to see them.

Another is to completely focus on the individual he talks to – them and only them. He doesn’t look around, or over their shoulder, and instead engages them totally, and listens carefully to what they say.

Harry readily admits he is not academic, but instead is exceptionally good at connecting with people of all types and ages.

He is reassuring, encouraging and knows what to say, how to say it and when. He has a knack of making people feel good about themselves in both significant and small ways.

He particularly excels with former soldiers who have been affected by injuries sustained in battle. It was obvious that by helping others he was also helping himself.

‘I see a lot of myself in these guys,’ he said. ‘They want an opportunity to prove themselves and be someone,’ he said.

We went to the Help For Heroes recovery centre at Tedworth House, Wiltshire, where ex-soldiers who had been seriously wounded in battle and suffer psychological wounds come for help with depression, stress, anger, anxiety and problems with alcohol.

Harry was both compassionate and jokey, confessing that he missed the black humour and camaraderie of Army life.

The effect was extraordinary, almost as if he had given them an injection of hope and confidence.

Jokes and slaps on the back are essential part of his repertoire. He asks direct questions without seeming intrusive.

For example, his first question to Mike ‘Doris’ Day, 34, formerly a sniper section commander in the 4 Rifles, who was hit by a grenade in Afghanistan in 2009 and whose injuries included a broken back and shrapnel in his head and body, went right to the core: ‘So what has been the biggest effect on you?’ he asked. Day thought for just a moment. ‘I am no longer me,’ he replied quietly.

Harry nodded sympathetically. ‘One of your biggest struggles must be living rather than just existing,’ he continued.

Certainly, he would be happy talking to veterans all day. There was less interest in formal meetings. He would sit politely, but occasionally one of his legs would tap up and down and a shadow would pass across his face.

Harry similarly disliked the formality of Eton and told me that during his time there he had only wanted to be a ‘bad boy’.

Instead, he was in his element during his decade-long stint in the Army and was devastated when in 2007, after ten weeks working in Afghanistan, guiding fighters to suspected Taliban targets, his position was leaked and he was withdrawn for security reasons.

‘I felt very resentful,’ he told me. ‘Being in the Army was the best escape I’ve ever had. I felt I was really achieving something.

‘I have a deep understanding for all sorts of people from different backgrounds and felt I was part of a team… I also wasn’t a Prince, I was just Harry.’

Yet this brings me back to 1997, and that image he evoked of a young boy walking in the glare of millions, part of his mother’s cortege.

The loss has gnawed at him and it is little wonder it has taken so long for him to deal with it.

‘My search began when I was in my mid-20s,’ Harry said. ‘I needed to fix the mistakes I was making and what was going on with me.’

In April he revealed that bottling up his grief had affected every area of his life, bringing him close to a breakdown several times.

For years he seemed lost. He partied with a dubious set of rich friends, and drank and smoked heavily.

But it didn’t help him drown his feelings. ‘Instead of dealing with it I buried my head in the sand and let everything around me tear me to pieces,’ he said.

Eventually, when he was 28, on William’s advice, he sought professional help.

Has his relationship with Meghan Markle helped him? It is a subject he does not wish to discuss, feeling she already has too much unfair scrutiny.

But asked whether she advised him on mental health issues, as some have suggested, there was an answer, sharp and clear: ‘Absolutely she did not.’ The decision has been his, showing a different sort of strength to the courage required in Afghanistan.

Over the last three years he has faced his demons, worked hard to overcome them and grown into an extraordinary young man who has kept some Royal magic, is charming, energetic, sincere and longs to help those who are damaged by war, by accident – or by dysfunctional families.

There is still some way for him to go, but by helping them, this wounded warrior is helping himself – in the best way possible.

SUBMITTED

[human-bill-has-moved]

Dilemma of the Fallen

When Bill was adopted into the Pines family, he was so happy. They got him when he was 12 years old, and he had been thinking that maybe he would never get a family. The family he was taken into already has two children, twins. One named Dipper, the other Mabel. Dipper isn’t his real name, though, it’s his nickname because of his birthmark. Bill had giggled a bit when he first saw it, but also complimented him on having such a unique feature. Weird is good. Everything should be weird. He loves both twins dearly, as well as his adoptive parents, but he loves Dipper the most. They talk an awful lot, and have bonded over the years. Now, the two of them are 17 and off to finally introduce Bill to the great uncles, along with Mabel. Dipper talks about them so much, and he especially loves the man Stanford. Bill smiles over at Dipper as he babbles on in the car, nodding. Bill himself is excited to meet this man. From what Dipper says, he’s a really cool guy. Bill stays silent through the whole ride to Oregon, though. When they finally make it to the small town, Bill is getting antsy and grabs his things immediately and pretty much flies off the bus. Both Dipper and Mabel follow not far behind him. Bill stares around the place with a huge grin on his face, eyes shining

“It’s beautiful here!! Much better than Piedmont–!”

He yells, and Dipper smiles back over at him

“Yeah, it is. I really love it here”

Bill turns around and claps his hands

“Alright, let’s go–!”

⏳⏩

Inside the Mystery Shack, where the great uncles live, Bill meets a very loud and open Grunkle Stanley, and a very twitchy Grunkle Stanford. Yet another pair of twins. Bill shakes both of their hands, equally happy to meet both of them.

“It’s nice to meet you, Stanford, Stanley!! Oh, uh, right, Stan and Ford. Hah. I’ve heard so many awesome things about you guys! Especially you, Ford–!”

He says with a bright smile on his face as he turns to look at Stanford, who flinches immensely. His eyes are wide and dart around the room. Maybe he’s had some sort of bad dream? Bill doesn’t question it, though. He never does. He should have. He should have. He keeps telling himself this, but you can’t exactly change the past, can you.

⏳⏩

A couple days after the three siblings arrived, Stanford calls Bill over to talk. Bill complies, and meets the older man near the exit of the house.

“Hey, I would like… would like to talk to you. Will you walk with me?”

He asks, seeming a bit nervous. Bill dismisses it, and nods

“Sure! I’d love to walk with you!”

Bill smiles over at Stanford, and he flinches a bit. But soon leads him out of the house. Into the woods. If only Bill had known. He shouldn’t have gone out…

In the middle of the forest, Ford stops abruptly and turns around. Reaching into the pocket of his long coat. Bill can see him trembling.

“You… you’re a monster… I… I can’t let you contaminate my family any longer!!”

He shouts with a shaking voice. The older man pulls a menacing looking knife out of his coat and holds it out towards the blonde. Said blonde starts backing up, his expression changing from smiling, to confused, to terrified. As he backs up, Stanford follows him, getting closer with the dagger, soon backing him against a large boulder

“You might have decieved my brother, niece and nephew, and their twin kids, but you aren’t going to fool me!! I’ll– I’ll kill you!!”

He yells, and Bill just stands there pressed against the rock, frozen in fear.

“What’re you talking about? I– I–!”

His voice is cut off when the older man lunges forward and shoves the dagger into his heart, and he screams, falling to the ground. Stanford pulls it out and gets on top of him, begins stabbing him repeatedly. He killed him dead. He killed me dead. I should’ve stayed away. I should’ve realized that he was so nervous around me. Because now, I’m trapped here out of the physical realm, as a demon. Following my brother around, who loves Ford dearly. Watching as he spirals down into madness, as he tries to find my killer. And I can’t even tell him it’s me, whispering in his ears so much, I can’t tell him it’s okay, that I’m here with him, when he cries. It rips me apart, but these are the rules. I am Bill, and this story is a tragey, the dilemma of the fallen.

@prodegy-pines