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queers-gambit · 1 year ago

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You Might Think It's Foolish

prompt: meeting your boyfriend's family for the first time creates anxiety, so, you stick to his side. at dinner, his mother calls out your clinginess - and Aemond doesn't defend you. or when someone else calls you clingy and he doesn't defend you / agrees with them.

pairing: modern!Aemond Targaryen x female!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: 3.1k+

warnings: short and to the point, angst, hurt and no comfort, drama, relationship angst, stand alone, cursing, toxic family, toxic relationship...? barely edited, author's tired of her drafts.

Fall. Autumn. A time of shedding the old and preparing for the new. Perhaps that was why this happened - the universe was trying to shed what was unwelcome in your life. Yet you wouldn't see it this way for several long months.

The trees grew over the winding backroads in a curved canopy; creating a golden tunnel for visitors to pass through on their way to remote destinations. You were no exception, cruising at a leisure speed while taking slow, deep breaths to attempt to soak in the beauty autumn in the Northern Hemisphere brought. It was impossible not to feel enraptured by the serenity of the country roads, music set so you could hear it but still have a conversation if you wanted.

Your passenger princess told you it was the next right.

"I can't believe we're late," you whispered, sighing in strained stress. "This is a horrible first impression, Aemond."

"We won't even be the latest," he smirked.

"Doesn't matter, it's still rude to show up when the party's already started."

"We were busy."

"You were getting a new tattoo," you deadpanned.

"Exactly as I said - busy. And you got your third ear piercing, so, I don't want t'hear it."

You swallowed, making the right turn. "That's the house?" You gawked.

"Mhm," he gazed out his window, "welcome to the Targaryen Manor, princess."

"I forget you're from old money," you muttered, finding a suitable parking space and pulling in. You gathered your belongings, including the flowers from the backseat you insisted on bringing for his mother, and vacate the car.

"You're gonna be fine," Aemond smirked, tossing his arm around your neck as you moved up the walkway. "Just be yourself, laugh at their jokes - you'll fit right in."

"I feel like I can't even afford to be here," you whispered, approaching the front door. He chuckled and took your hand, letting you squeeze it tight as he opened the door and lead you inward. "Jesus, Mary Mother, and Joseph," you gaped, eyes bugging wide as the interior.

The term "fancy" didn't even begin to cover it.

And Aemond just smirked at you, amused by your response; knowing your family grew up without money and the nicest thing you owned for years was a Wii that had been purchased from a family-friend for a third of the price. So to see you here, amongst luxury and money, was an absolute treasure to him.

However, that was short lived, because the next thing you noticed was the amount of people milling around. There was at least 13 different people in sight, and for some reason, you knew there was likely many, many more. Aemond lead you into the kitchen, and from there, you could barely keep up.

First, you met his mother, Alicent. She was a kind woman, but stoic and calculating; observant with a quick wit. She intimidated you, made you feel small, burned you under her stare; and since you were dating her favorite child, you knew she was scrutinizing you. You felt desperate for her approval, and when you offered her the large bouquet of flowers, she actually let her lips twitch in a small smile. She thanked your generosity and consideration, making you feel like you had some kind of breakthrough with her.

When Alicent went to put the flowers in water, Aemond assured he thought his mother "adored" you before introducing you to his father - the birthday boy. He was sweet; soft spoken and bright-eyed; all too happy to have a conversation with you. He asked how you and Aemond met, then what you were studying in university, if you liked it, what you wanted to do with your degree. He asked what food was your favorite, if you played sports, about your family, and if you had any hobbies. Viserys Targaryen had a kind soul, making you wonder how he and Alicent remained married.

Though they say opposites attract.

Aemond showed you around the house, stopping to introduce family members; then heading to the backyard where you were drug around to meet the hundred other family members. You were close to tears the whole time, knowing it was his father's birthday, but not knowing how bloody big his fucking family was - and that they'd all show up today. You felt blindsided, it felt like a deliberate withholding of information to convince you to come. You were under the impression it was a family dinner, but now, you understood, it was an actual celebration.

There was people everywhere you looked, everywhere you turned. Voices spoke over one another, children ran around playing tag or jumping on a trampoline; babies cried and screamed, the grill was loud with sizzling meats, and a radio played through intermittent static. Multiple dogs ran around, trailing mud everywhere, even going as far as to shake their coats out to shower bystanders. The smell of charcoal, smoke, and chlorine mingled with that tangy-good scent of BBQ; but it made your eyes sting.

It was a sensory overload.

It was a miracle you hadn't burst into tears yet, but you remained anchored to reality by maintaining a close proximity to Aemond.

You held his hand in a vice grip. You held his bicep with a curled-grip that left fingernail indentations in his skin through the fabric. You held his waist, belt loops, anything you could grab onto in a possessive grip. You constantly touched him to reassure yourself he was still with you; being your anchor to reality, tangible and real since your anxiety drowned you in a sea.

You didn't think it was an issue. Didn't think anyone would notice, so you obviously didn't think anyone would care if they DID notice. You liked touching Aemond, it kept you grounded; if someone had an issue with that, it was 100% just a personal problem. However, plenty of people did notice, and when you sat down for dinner, you were unprepared for the ambush.

Conversation was flowing; food passed around and utensils scraped plates. Drinks sweat into the table cloth, citronella candles twinkled, and laughter was in an abundance as each person found merriment in their family. You were feeling more relaxed, but the truth was, there was so many people here that you felt nauseous enough to only take a few small bites from your plate.

Aemond noticed and met your eyes, subtly opening his hand to you in an offer for comfort. You all but snatched his hand into yours, smiling in thanks as he only smirked broadly and continued eating. You tried to sample what you could, but it was impossible to stomach much of anything. You reached for your water, took a sip, and heard Alicent question your name.

When she had your attention, Alicent asked, "Have you had many boyfriends, dear?"

"Oh, no," you answered honestly, "no, I've gone on dates but Aemond's," you laid your free hand to his bicep, sliding down to take his hand with yours, "my first boyfriend."

She hummed and stabbed her fork into the salad set in front of her, muttering in a lower tone, "Then I guess I can overlook it all."

You cocked your head, setting your glass down, wondering, "Overlook what?"

"The clinginess," she shrugged, reaching for her wine glass. "You've been stuck to his side all day - never even parting to go to the restroom, it seems. So, because he's your first, I can overlook all this... For now."

Your head began to spin like in a bad cartoon. You felt your heart cement and drop to your stomach; throat swelling to suppress either sobs, vomit, or both. The entire table was quiet. "I-I'm sorry, Mrs. Targaryen," you offered in confusion. "I'm sorry if I've offended you, but it's not with malicious intent."

"No?" She mocked.

"No," your head shook vehemently. "I did not realize my actions could be interpreted negatively, and I assume you, it was not my intention to create tension."

"Oh, spare me. You haven't let go of Aemond once all night, and even now, as we all sit for family dinner, you hold his hand hostage; preventing you both from eating. Don't you think he'd like to spend time with his family without needing to make you feel included in every single thing he does or says today?"

You gulped, "I did not mean to offend you nor your family."

"It's not offensive," Helaena Targaryen, Aemond's only sister, tried to intervene. "If you feel uncomfortable in any situation, why not seek out that in which you already know helps comfort you?"

How had it come to this?

"I am not offended," Viserys croaked, "I find young love refreshing."

But this made Alicent rage, "It is offensive when you prevent Aemond from actually visiting with his family. It's his father's birthday for God's sake! We don't have an infinite number of them left! If you want to hang all over him when you're at university, fine, but when you're here? In public? Around family or elders? It's not acceptable behavior, especially when you prevent my son from participating as a member of this family."

Your mouth went dry as you remembered your parents did not raise you to ever tolerate disrespect. If someone offered insult, sure, walk away, but they also taught you to stand up for yourself in particular fights. This felt like one of those fights.

There were also vivid memories long since repressed that flashed you back to your own parents telling you, you were clingy. They didn't want you hanging off them, distracting anyone, being an overall nuisance; so they started fighting your fire with their own. They became verbally aggressive, constantly ridiculing and belittling you; attempting to keep you humble by insulting your character - saying nobody (be it man or woman) would want someone like you. Your baggage was too heavy and you knew it, your parents telling you it was why you felt the need to cling in the first place.

If you held on tight enough, the weight of your trauma would eventually anchor your person in place. It'd be too late to swim away once that anchor sunk.

You looked at Aemond, thinking he'd tell his mother to quiet down, but he never did. He just stared at the table, so, you tossed his hand into his lap - feeling disgusting by his physical touch right now.

It was evident he wasn't going to defend you, so, you defended yourself, "I know you might think it foolish, but the reason I was 'all over' your son was because I was caught off-guard by the number of family members who attended today. I was lead to believe this would be a small, intimate affair so I could properly meet his nuclear family, and when I realized that was not the case, yes, I held onto Aemond because I felt incredibly anxious. I cannot control what makes me uncomfortable, but I was expecting under ten people - not close to a hundred. So, truly, if me seeking solace with my boyfriend upsets you, I am sorry, but I will not apologize for feeling blindsided and misdirected - I will not apologize for feeling anxious and nervous amongst such a large family that I've never met before, and - "

Aemond snapped your name, silencing you instantly out of sheer shock; your eyes widening a fraction. He growled, "That's enough, do not speak to my mother like that."

"So, she's allowed to call me clingy, but I can't - "

"I told you to watch your mouth," he seethed, "and not speak to her like you just were. She made an observation - an accurate one - not out of spite, like you want to do in retaliation."

You scoffed, while glancing between mother and son, nodding slowly. You mutely used your cloth napkin to blot around your lips, swipe your tongue over your teeth as you pushed your chair back and slowly stood. "You know what? I don't need this shit. I refuse to sit here and let you speak to me as if you're holier than thou," you told Alicent, then looking to Aemond, "nor will some mama's boy gaslight me."

Helaena giggled behind her hand as you swiped your purse and phone, turned on your heel, and walked away. Aemond sighed and called your name, standing from his own chair, still trying to slow you down by calling out to you. "Aemond," Alicent snapped when he meant to move after you.

"You've done enough," he told her, jogging after your retreating form while calling your name.

"Nice one, Mum," Aegon scoffed. "That's one way to make sure he doesn't knock her up - just break them up."

"Aegon," Daeron groaned.

"What? Isn't that what she was afraid of? Aemond getting too serious with her?" Aegon snapped. "He's finally happy, and you what? Had to implode that?"

Aegon's words sunk into his mother's heart as Aemond rushed after you, nobody untouched by the things he said.

Outside, you rushed for your car while fumbling with your purse and keys. Aemond followed, still. He finally caught up when you made it to the car, his hand whipping you around to face him.

"I didn't fucking mean it," he rushed, holding you securely in his grasp. "Hear me? I didn't fucking mean it, I-I just wanted the arguing to stop, I know how Mum can get and I didn't want it to escalate. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, my love, I didn't mean it at you - I just - I panicked - I don't know why. Perhaps we're both still very green to this whole relationship thing."

"Oh! Fuck you," you snapped, pushing him off you.

"Listen to me - "

"No, you're done talking," you raged with your manicured pointer finger jabbing the air between you in a dramatic fashion. "Your mother fully insulted me in front of everyone - your entire family, whom I wasn't even aware I was meeting, nor was I even ready to meet!"

"What?"

"I was willing to meet your parents and siblings. Not your entire extended family! You meet the nuclear family first and when ready to level-up, you bring your significant other around your aunties, uncles, cousins - whatever. You ambushed me," you snapped. "You totally caught me off guard - but instead of apologizing and acknowledging my discomfort, you just carried on on your high horse. You let me hold onto you - yet there was no word about being clingy - and you even reached for my hand a few times! Yet I was the one being slandered and labeled as 'clingy'!? But you know what? That's cool, really fucking cool, that's fine. Like I said before, fuck off. I don't need to be with someone who crumples like a wet piece of paper when Mummy Dearest starts to huff and puff. I need someone who's going to tell their mother to cut it out when they're trying to wrongfully insult me - your girlfriend. Better yet? I need to be with someone whose mother doesn't start on that bullshit! That has respect! Decency! Now get the fuck away from me!"

You shoved him back a few steps to give room for you to open your car door and get in - immediately hitting the automatic locks. You started the engine, put your seatbelt on, took one last look at your first love as he tried to plea with you through the rolled up window, then shifted into gear and pulled away.

You felt your anger boil to a new height when you replayed the entire day. How dare Aemond? How dare he try to manipulate this situation? He had no right to ask you to shut the fuck up while his mother was free to run her mouth! Well, first and foremost, how fucking dare Alicent insult and challenge you in such a public setting? How in the Seven Hells had Helaena been the only one to defend you? What the hell did you even need defending against? Why did you showing affection and needing reliable support upset Alicent that much?

Your phone began to ring, and when you glanced at it, you saw Aemond's contact photo displayed on the screen. You ignored it and put your phone on airplane mode, leaving it on for now. However, after a few long moments of stressful thinking, you turned the setting off and called your sister - knowing no matter what, she'd be your rock. When she answered, you told her a simplified version of events, and at the end, your tears had been triggered and she was encouraging you to come over to her house.

You agreed, shut your phone off this time, and drove to your sister's place. When you arrived, you were shocked to find her waiting in the driveway, opening her arms with a pout when you got out of the car. "C'mere," she cooed, enveloping you in her arms when you stepped into her embrace.

"Why do boys suck?" You whimpered.

"Because that's just how they were programed," she sighed.

"Sh-She called me clingy," you managed through your tears, "his mom called me clingy, a-and Aemond d-didn't defend me. So, when I had to defend myself, he just told me to be quiet 'cause his mother wasn't wrong - or what-the-fuck-ever."

"I know, honey," she sympathized, giving you a squeeze. "What're you thinking?"

"That I can't trust someone like that," you admitted. "And if I can't trust them, why be in a relationship?"

She nodded, "I think you know what you need to do next."

"I don't want to."

"Nobody really wants to, but it's necessary," she held your phone out for you after pulling it from your back pocket. "Don't let him or his mother disrespect you - especially in front of his other family members. I mean, shit, how're you supposed to face any of them again after that?"

"Exactly, his mom didn't exactly do it in private..."

"See?" She stared at you while you sighed, shaking your head. Your sister encouraged, "Make the call. This isn't a sustainable relationship, and Aemond shouldn't have to choose his mother and his girl - so, let's just make it easy on him, and you choose. Wanna be with someone who lets his mother say shit like that to you? Who tells you to be quiet, instead of shutting down his mother's insults?"

You frowned, whispering, "I don't think this is enough to break us up. It shouldn't be, right? This shouldn't be the end-all, be-all, should it?"

"No, honey, but the disrespect cannot stand, either," she shot back. "If he felt so comfortable to say that in front of his family like that, you don't wanna know what he's gonna get comfortable doing in more private settings." Tears filled your eyes as she reminded gently, but firmly, "Make the call."

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mochinek0 · 10 months ago

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Time to Go

Marinette had known since she was born that she was the only daughter of Bruce Wayne and Talia Al Ghul. She was also Damian's little sister, by three years.

When the strike on Ra's Al Ghul was taken, Talia quickly hid her away. Marinette knew her family's lives were on the line. She knew Damian would be on the front lines and prayed for his safe return. Although she knew she wasn't her grandfather's favorite, she still mourned his death. Damian seemed to take it especially hard.

Talia had told Marinette and Damian that they would be seperated for the time being. She needed Damian to go with his father to continue his training, while she picked up the pieces of the League.

"What about me, Mother?" Mari questioned.

"You will be on a mission, all of your own." Talia explained, "You're mission is to go undercover. You will act as a daughter of other people. This will keep you safe. Not many know of your existence, but I need to make sure all that wish to harm us, are gone."

"I do not approve of this." Damian snarled.

"I understand." Talia whispered, "I have folders for each of you with detailed instructions. Until you are in your new lodgings, you are not to open them."

Marinette nodded sadly and cried herself to sleep in her big brother's arms. She knew it would be a while before she saw him again. Talia gave them their moment. It hurt her dearly to tear her children apart, but Slade had to pay for his crimes. The League had to be rebuilt and become stronger than ever to give them both their inheritance. With Ra's gone, she would train Marinette to become as deadly as her, when she came of age.

Marinette smiled at the envelope in her hand.

'Another letter from mother. I wonder what my orders are this time.'

Marinette,

The time has come for your father to pick you up. He and Damian will pick you up in three days time. Prepare for his arrival.

Marinette smiled, happily. Lila had been a pain in the ass, as of late. Sabine and Tom took everything her so-called friends said at face value. They would laugh at the implications over dinner. Marinette would tell them all of the lies and how brainless the class truly was. They both knew that if Marinette was really bullying Lila, she could have done far worse. Tom and Sabine had disagreed with Adrien's decleration, but told Mairnette to keep the piece while they reached out to Talia. Only her mother's orders were absolute. If her mother said she could kill her, they wouldn't stand in her way.

"Maman. Papa." Marinette called out.

"So, what did the letter say this time?" Sabine asked.

"Father and Brother will be here in three days time to retrieve me." she answered.

"Well, let's start pulling you out of that horrible school and get ou all packed up." Tom laughed, "I'm sure they will be happy to see you."

'Damian, perhaps. Father; I don't know if he even knows of my existence. Surprise, Father.'

Bruce sighed, "What do you mean you have a sister?"

"It's just as I stated." Damian declared, "Mother has insisted it is safe to retrieve her."

"You've been talking to Talia?" Dick questioned.

"No." the young Wayne heir answered, "She gave us both instructions before we left."

Damian held up the letter.

"There are certain dates for me to open these letters." he explained, "Most of them coincide with our birthdays. Today is Marinette's; she turns fifteen."

"So where is she?" Jason asked.

"Paris, France." Damian stated, "She has been under watchful eyes and was assigned to live as a normal child. No assassin work. Grandfather wasn't too happy that he didn't have two grandsons. Mother taught her self-defense, but she helped out around, mostly as a servant. I was to ignore her if I saw her unless we were alone."

Bruce rubbed his head.

"I have already prepared another room, Sir." Alfred smiled.

"Please, don't let there be two of him." Tim pleaded as Bruce stood up and walked out of the cave to pack.

Marinette handed over her ledger of Lila Rossi to Bruce.

"The school needs to choose their staff more carefully." she spoke, "Tom and Sabine have tried stepping in with the Principal, but I bellieve the Board needs to know what is going on under their noses.

Bruce looked at it and quickly read through it.

"I agree." he snarled, "I'll be taking it with me to the board. I need to legally sign you out of that school, anyways."

Marinette turned to her brother and hugged him.

"I missed you." she whispered.

Damian said nothing, but held her close.

Tom and Sabine stood by as they watch the girl they help raise, reunite with her family. Marinette let go and realized they were holding something.

"We have a copy of all of the recipes we've made over the years." Sabine declared, "Both in the bakery and just for the house."

"Family eyes only." Tom smiled.

"Thank you." Marinette replied, taking it and holding it close to her chest.

"I will make sure it is handed over to our grandfather and he will keep it locked up and safe." Damian declared.

Tom and Sabine smiled.

"I need to take my stuff back to the school." Mari spoke up.

"Go." Damian replied, "Father should return soon. I will tell him where you are and we will meet you there. I will put your belongings in the car so we can leave immediately."

Marinette walked into class and handed her class books over to Ms. Bustier.

"Marinette, why-" Caline began to question.

"I resign as class president." Mari announced.

"What?" Caline whispered in shock.

"Marinette?" Adrien called out, "Are you okay?"

"Is this why you haven't been in school?" Alya asked.

Caline laughed awkwardly, "Marinette, I'm sure-"

"I will be leaving this school, as of today." she announced, leaving the class stunned.

"Oh, Marinette!" Lila called out, standing up, "Did I do something? I only wanted to be friends!"

"Yeah!" shouted Kim, "What the hell?"

"I'll be moving in with my birth father and older brother." Marinette stated, "Mother says it is time for me to go with them."

"Sabine kicked you out?" Adrien questioned, confused.

"Sabine and Tom are my guardians, not my parents." Mari declared, "My birth father listened to me. I have always had a keen eye for detail, as many of you know from asking me to design for them."

"Are you till going on about 'Lila stealing from you'?" Alya asked, "We know it was you who stole!"

Lila paled and sat back down in her seat.

'What?'

Marinette looked at Lila and smiled, "Why do you think Ms. Bustier doesn't want me to stop being class president? It's because I make detailed plans for all the school trips, fundraisers, plan the fire drills, and escape routes. I even know where everything in this school is, including the security cameras. I have kept a record of every lie you said sice you got here, where and when. My father turned the evidence over to the Board of Governers."

Lila's jaw dropped.

"If the cameras aren't working, then they'll just go after that gullible man. Pretty sure embezzlement won't keep him in position." Mari shrugged.

"Huh?" asked Nino.

"How many times do you think the mayor pays him to look the other way when Chloe's being a bitch?" Marinette declared.

"Excuse me!" Chloe shouted.

"Maybe Lila can lend you her hearing aids." Marinette retorted.

"This is why you're a bully." Alix glared at her.

Marinette simply smiled.

Bruce and Damian walked in. Chloe smoothed her clothes and fluffed her hair, quickly. She stood up and smiled.

"I'm-" She spoke.

"Your voice is like nails on a chalk board." Damian commanded, "Be silent."

Chloe closed her mouth and sat down in embarassment, leaving everyone speechless.

Marinette giggled, "You always did know how to make an entrance, Big Brother."

Chloe's jaw dropped.

'She's a Wayne!'

Marinette turned and smiled at Chloe, "Goodbye, Daddy's Little Princess." before turning back to her family, "Father, I am ready to return home."

"Very well." Bruce spoke.

All three of them left the class without another word. There was a lot they had to discuss. As far as Bruce knew, Marinette had no idea about him being Batman and Damian being Robin. She had grown up with some semblance of a normal life and he wanted to keep it that way.

The class looked at the door confused.

"Chloe?" whispered Sabrina.

"Shit!" Chloe screamed, slamming her fists onto the desk.

"Chloe, are you okay?" asked Kim.

"No!" she yelled back, "Do I look okay? So you know-You don't know who they are? Of course you Pea Brains, don't! That was Bruce and Damian Wayne. Which makes.....Baker Girl is one of the richest people in the world."

Lila sat in her seat, enraged.

'What?'

"What?" questioned Alya.

"They have more money than mine and Adrikins' family combined." she scoffed, "Her father could buy Daddy's hotel like it was nothing!"

"But-" whispered Mylene.

"Marinette is a Wayne." Chloe stated, "The Waynes own an international business and have their hands in everything. They are old money. Bruce Wayne practically owns a whole city and just doesn't wanna be mayor."

"What about her brother?" asked Alix.

"He's known for being violent and lashing out. He hates the press." she remarked, "One thing about him on social media and he hunts you down and sues you."

"That's illegal." Alya claimed.

"Sorry. Would you prefer to be thrown in jail or settle for a million dollars to delete what you have?" the heiress questioned, "The Wayne family is known for the high IQ and attention to detail, which means....we're all screwed."

The class learned that everything Marinette had said was true. Lila's lies were all exposed. She was expelled and taken to a juvenile detention center, ontop of being sued by various people. Principal Damocles had been fired, as he had zero authority to expell anyone. Their teacher, Caline Bustier, was fired for not doing her job. She never informed the nurse about Lila's illnesses or disabilities, so there was never any confirmation that any of those were true. She also never sent Lila any homework during her 'travels' and so she was far behind the class in her studies.

Chloe believed she was suffering the most. Adrien was no longer in school with her. The people that let her do what she wanted was removed from the school and she was being forced to sell clothes out of her closet because her mother was upset by how much she 'embarassed them' in front of the Waynes.

'Stupid Marinette! This is all her fault! If she had just acted rich, like me, everything would be the same as it always was.'

The class was in disarray. Not only had Ms. Bustier let Lila slide on so many things, she was behind on their lessons as well. They now had mandatory after school tutoring and study sessions. Adrien Agreste had been pulled out of the class due to his high marks. He was also at the level they all should have been at.

"Dude, how did you pass?" Nino asked, "We all listened to Miss Bustier! You're higher than anyone, including Max!"

"Well, I was homeschooled and Natalie was a tough teacher compared to Miss Bustier. Also, I wanted to be at the same grade level as Chloe. I sorta knew mostly everything, already." Adrien admitted, "I actually could have skipped a few grades if I wanted to."

Nino was surprised, "Would you be willing to tutor us?"

"I wish I could but the board made me take a test and Father demanded I answer every question I knew correctly." Adrien sighed, "I'll be going to high school and if I continue the way I am now, I'm set to graduate in two years."

They realized it would never be the same. Everyone else still had four or five years until they graduated.

Bruce thought that another child would tip the balance of the manor, but he was wrong. It felt like all they had been missing, was her. She adjusted perfectly to the chaos. His sons insisted that Marinette learn self-defense, at the very least. She refused to walk in their footsteps and become Robin or any other sort of vigilante. It hadn't taken long for Marinette to be announced as Bruce Wayne's daughter and Damian's long lost biological sister. Marinette had taken Gotham by storm as Gotham's Angel and was designing under a new alias: Serpentine. She was taking the fashion world by storm.

Everyone loved having Marinette around, but Damian Al-Ghul Wayne knew better. Marinette was as deceiving as their mother. She looked innocent in everything she did, but her mind was a war zone. Their grandfather never appreciated her mind, but he had gotten some of his best stealth mission ideas after talking with her. He could see her slithering into every crack in their new home. She was flexible like Grayson, loved motorcycles like Todd, talked business with Father and Drake. She even won over Alfred, Brown and Cain with her cooking and baking skills.

Damian watched as Marinette smiled at her computer. The look at the screen, the smile; it was his mother's smile. He could see Gabriel stocks were plummeting after their reunion in Paris. Style Queen was barely hovering above water. For Marinette, it was never about becoming Robin. It was about ruling the world and she was going do it through fashion.

Damian would never tell anyone, but he was scared of his little sister and he would take it to his grave. The smile that would lead anyone to death: The Arabian Helen of Troy.

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helloparkerrose · 1 year ago

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#catholic #roman catholic #catholicism #blessed mother mary #happy birthday #mother mary #month of mary #september 8th #catholic church

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myremnantarmy · 1 year ago

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#jesus #catholic #my remnant army #jesus christ #virgin mary #faithoverfear #saints #jesusisgod #endtimes #artwork #Mother Mary #pray for us #happy birthday

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void-dude · 3 months ago

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Shapes and Pines AU FAN-MASTERLIST

THAT'S RIGHT FOLKS YOU GUYS GET YOUR OWN LIST BECAUSE YOU'RE DROWNING ME WITH CONTENT!

Canon content -> Masterlist 1

!Fanart?! (I LOVE IT ALL)

Money <3

Crossover time

Taking whats not yours

MARRIED LIFE

obsessed with this guy

Crossover time 2

⚠️ superior shape 🟪

Las Vegas shenanigans

Mornin' hun

Stan the greaser

Eepy sleepy

old man seduction

infected with this freak

Crime Husbands

Peas and Love

crossover 3

I think they are delightful

concept human ted

TAD MOTHER FUCKING STRANGE

He makes me laugh...

Human Tad Strange kinda

Mister Mystery Tonic

Human Tad Plus Euclydian Stan

Notebook doodles

TAD TAD TAD

12 long years and now he's back!

Tiny Tads

HOT TO GO

Square…shape of evil

Smash or pass

Human Tad plus tiny doodles

Human Tad but he's silly

They are resting and snoozing

Despite the scars

OC time?!?

Tad in theraprism?!

Human Tad and the best sweater ever

If you call my name there will be no answer

Let me kiss it better

Mary Poppins

THEY MOVE

Swooning over stan

SHAPES!!

Widdle baby square

Pine rumors

You took away my buddy...

Human Tad he's so fancy

Paper puppet oh my goodness

Boy why are you so

HOT TO GO

Happy and safe

He's sad :(

IT SHOULD'VE BEEN ME!!!

Squares and man

Did this actually happen?

doodles of young Bill and Tad

They're pretty, right?

tad strange but brain rot

They are sleepy

IM FINE

The boys are fighting

Birthday boy

Well that was tragic!

Humanization beam

What a boring white space

He loves him!

Human strange man

The third journal

Trust me

anxious wreck

eepy sleepy

don't look

save me..

I'm not Billy anymore

He kinda funny lookin

Ya wanna keep holding my hand?

Worlds collide

I feel totally normal about this man….

Billy’s caretakers can never catch a break

Human Tad again

Being disgusting on that boat

Is this a Relativity Falls AU?

Silly shapes

*randomly drops Stadley*

HES REAL

Them cooking!

brought "irl Tad" into being CW DRUGS

!FANFIC?!

Baby it's cold outside

Nightmare Tad

Did you forget our anniversary?

A stupid idea

Dipper & Mabel VS The Multiverse

Well… this is a tad strange

Keep your eye clear

Maybe...

And for the rest of the night, his dreams were quiet.

Then get your ass over here, big guy

I got game

#shapes and pines au #masterlist #fanart #fanfic #gravity falls au

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zoot-marimba · 6 months ago

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Remembering the late Mary Kay Bergman, who would have turned 62 today.

Besides her work with Disney (voicing Snow White, Quasimodo's mother, and two of the Bimbettes, plus doing Jesse's yodel for Toy Story 2), being the voice of Daphne Blake for the first three Scooby Doo STV films (Zombie Island, The Witch's Ghost, and Alien Invaders), Barbara Gordon in Batman & Mr. Freeze:Subzero, and providing the screams and sleeping sounds of Hogarth in The Iron Giant, most of the people that follow me will know her as the original voice actress of South Park, playing virtually every female character for the first three seasons and the movie.

A terrific talent and a kind and sweet soul by nearly all accounts, Mary Kay is greatly missed. Happy birthday and RIP.

#Mary Kay Bergman #South Park #Disney #disney renaissance #scooby doo #voice actors

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zepskies · 9 months ago

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Take Me Home - Part 1

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader

Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from.

AN: Welcome to my first ever Big Sky series! I’ve been wanting to get to this for a while now. I’m so glad I finally get to start sharing this with you! I truly hope you enjoy the ride. (Note: This is set towards the beginning of season 3.)

Song Inspo: “Fly Away” by John Denver. And remember, you can listen to the full Take Me Home Playlist ⬅️ here.

Word Count: 4,400

Tags/Warnings: A bit of angst, a bit of setup, “Glamper Girl,” and a side helping of cops enjoying baked goods…

❤️ Series Masterlist

Part 1: All of Her Days

“This really feels like cheating,” you mused.

Yet again, you surveyed the sheer size and luxury of this tent you were supposed to be “camping” in.

Between the giant king-sized bed with crème and burgundy comforters, a two-seater dining table, a dresser (with a vanity), and even a small bookshelf, it looked like the Taj Mahal of glamping.

“Can’t you just enjoy it?” your best friend replied, poking a teasing finger into your side. She smirked when you flinched and gave her some playful side-eye. “My parents are the ones footing the bill, anyway.”

“Of which, I intend to pay them back for my half,” you said. Mary just rolled her eyes and waved you off. Her parents’ money was something she’d never had a problem spending.

“Come on, they’re getting ready to go on the hike without us,” she said, tossing her little purse over her shoulder. You were a bit more practical with your backpack, filled with a bottle of water, a couple snacks, bug spray, and your sketch pad.

Mary bumped your shoulder with hers as you two walked out of the tent, and you gave her a smile. You were glad she insisted on this little week-long excursion. It gave you exactly five more days to enjoy the fresh air of no responsibilities, before you returned to reality.

“So where are you guys from?” you asked a couple of walking companions on the early-morning hike.

The woods of Helena, Montana were vast and deep, and you found them a bit intimidating. You were a city girl, through and through, but you were learning to appreciate the mountains and the steep trails flanked by dense trees. You were also grateful that you weren’t alone.

Emily seemed to be a nice girl around sixteen, while her stepfather Avery was a lightly graying man in his 40s. You pegged his accent as English, the “casual posh” kind. On a scale from Dame Maggie Smith to Dick Van Dyke's attempt at cockney, you’d put Avery on a Benedict Cumberbatch level.

“Well, I met her mother in Houston,” Avery replied, nodding at the girl beside you. “She and Emily joined me here in Helena after we were married this past spring.”

Emily confirmed with a nod. “Yep, starting school here in a few months.”

At that, you could smile. “Me too, actually.”

Emily gave you a confused look while she fiddled with an app on her phone.

“What? You’re still in school?” she asked.

“No,” you laughed. “I’m—”

“She’s a college professor,” Mary tacked on. “AKA: a giant nerd.”

Emily tried not to smile at your expense. You just shook your head at your friend.

“Thanks,” you said wryly, despite your amusement. “We can’t all be personal trainers. One can only take so much Spandex.”

Mary rolled her eyes and prepared to fire back a retort, but your attention shifted back to Emily, who seemed to be debating whether to press a red button on her phone. You thought it looked like a voice recording app.

You followed her line of vision and saw Paige and Luke up ahead—a young “happy couple” here at Sunny Day Excursions. They were whisper-yelling at each other, sniping something about Luke’s birthday. Apparently, he had a problem with getting another year older.

Don’t we all, you thought, with no small amount of sarcasm. The guy had been a sour apple since the start of this trip, and to be honest, he was starting to get on your damn nerves.

“This is like, prime time stuff for my podcast,” Emily whispered.

You looked over at her. “Oh yeah? What’s your podcast about?”

“Relationships, lies, that sort of thing,” she replied.

You almost grimaced. Good luck finding willing subjects for that one.

Mary snickered on your other side. She leaned close to your ear so only you would hear.

“God, Paige’s voice is so effing annoying. Like a chipmunk on helium,” she said. “I feel sorry for him.”

You shot her a dry look. “He’s the one asking for it, if you ask me. But they’ve been going at it the whole time. Makes me feel sorry for both of them.”

You shook your head and kept walking on the trail. Mary sobered as she stared back at you. She was reminded of why you two were really here, and what you’d been through this past year…

What you all had been through.

You and Mary fell behind Avery and Emily on the trail, giving Mary the opportunity to touch your arm and stop you in the middle of the trail.

“Do you really plan to stay here?” she asked. “In dusty-ass Montana? With the snakes and the bears and the old hicks?”

“Well, I got the key to my apartment before we got here,” you said. And she knew that. “My aunt is letting me crash with her until the rest of my things ship over in a couple of weeks, and I start a new job in the fall. So yeah, I’m staying.”

Mary’s lips pursed. She gave you a long look, but you held your ground. You even popped your Airpods in for good measure. You were done with this conversation.

She huffed and kept walking.

You watched your friend go in annoyance. You knew she would try to talk you out of your decision at some point on this trip, but you hadn’t expected it to be so soon.

Heaving a sigh, you looked up at the clear sky above you, filtered through the tall trees. You took a moment to collect yourself in this great big no man’s land, where you could finally let yourself slow down for a minute, and breathe.

You raised the volume in your Airpods when a particular song came through.

“All of her days have gone soft and cloudy. All of her dreams have gone dry,” crooned the soft melody. You nodded to the rhythm of the mellow notes, but all the while, you tried to blink through the sting of tears.

“All of her nights have gone sad and shady. She's getting ready to fly…”

You rubbed your left hand, where you still had the tan line of the ring you used to wear.

“It’s really okay, sweetie,” Mary tried to console you, rubbing her hand between your shoulders.

After the hike, you all had returned to camp and sat down to brunch. It was an amazing spread, with waffles and muffins and Danishes, eggs done three different ways, toast with jam, assorted sandwiches, coffee and orange juice (and sparkling wine for the adults).

But even with a huge plate of appetizing food in front of you, you were sulking a bit. You had your face covered by your hands as you rested your elbows on the table.

“One of my only goals on this trip was to ride a damn horse, and I couldn’t even do that,” you said.

Sunny Barnes and her husband Buck were the heads and hosts of this whole trip. And after the hike, their son, Cormack, had tried to help you onto the nice chestnut mare the handler had brought out of the stable for you. But your entire body had locked up in fear at the prospect of being vaulted onto the horse.

In fairness, she was huge. And you were both afraid of heights, and animals that could buck you off its back and trample you.

You hadn’t been able to speak. You just shook your head vigorously every time Cormack asked you if you were okay.

So he’d graciously patted your back and gave the mare to Emily instead.

“I’ve never been able to ride a horse either,” Avery offered in commiseration. You lowered your hands and gave him a wan smile.

Emily was carving an apple with an impressive (and somewhat scary) looking pocketknife. She shrugged.

“It’s not so hard,” she said. But, perhaps realizing how she sounded, she looked up and gave you an apologetic look. “Sorry. I mean, I’m sure you’ll get it! It’s hard in the beginning, but once you get used to it, it’s like riding a bike.”

Right. A bike with hooves, you thought, ripping a piece of bread from your egg and cheese sandwich.

Mary bumped your shoulder with a teasing smile. “You just got showed up by a high schooler. Again.”

You pursed your lips in amusement. You tossed the piece of bread. It hit her dead between the eyes. You giggled at the way she jumped with a start.

“Real mature,” she shot back.

“Yeah,” you replied, taking a giant bite of your sandwich for good measure. “I learned from you.”

Even Emily snickered, making Mary roll her eyes in amusement.

Shortly after, Avery and his stepdaughter were finished with brunch and got up to get back to their tents.

You glanced over and noticed that Emily had left her knife on the table, now closed in its sheath.

Sheriff Beau Arlen may have still been relatively new in town, but he considered himself a consummate professional.

He’d agreed to accompany Cassie, the local private investigator (and his friend), up to this mountain pass to look for a missing backpacker. Questioning Buck and Sunny Barnes and their crew was just good old-fashioned, thorough police work.

But if it also gave Beau a chance to check on his daughter up here “glamping” with her half-baked stepfather, then he couldn’t pass up on that opportunity, now could he?

After talking to Buck and Sunny, who hadn’t seen hide or hair of the backpacker, Beau let Cassie take care of questioning Cormack Barnes while Beau found his daughter outside her tent. After giving her a big hug and inspecting her “tent” (Really? he thought. Looks more like a hotel room than a tent.), he asked her how her trip was going so far.

“Good, Dad. But you really didn’t have to come all the way out here just to check up on me,” Emily said. She was amused, but no longer surprised to see him.

“No, no, no. I didn’t, okay?” Beau refuted. Though at the look on her face, he knew he wasn’t fooling her. She was a sharp kid. “All right, maybe not the only reason. We had to talk to Sunny about a missing backpacker. It’s something Cassie’s investigating.”

Emily’s amusement faded into surprise, and then concern.

“Wait, what?” she said.

“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing. Just, you know…parents probably didn’t get the memo that ‘off-the-grid’ was part of the deal,” he said, giving her a meaningful raise of his brows. Maybe his daughter didn’t have to screen so many of his calls while she was on this trip.

“Overprotective parents, huh?” Emily dryly remarked.

“The worst,” Beau agreed, shaking his head.

But he smiled. Just seeing her made his whole week better…and it alleviated some of the hurt in his heart. Not getting to be with her on a trip like this stung. And knowing Avery was the one who got to be there for her grated on him.

Beau was already missing too much of his daughter’s life, and he still wasn’t too sure on how to deal with that.

Speak of the devil, he thought. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Avery approaching. Beau forced himself to look as close to pleasant as he could get around his ex-wife’s husband.

While Mary went back to the tent to freshen up, you grabbed Emily’s pocketknife and went to look for her so you could return it. It had a wood-carved hilt and had her initials, E. A., engraved on the side. The knife looked special, not the kind of thing you wanted to lose.

You found her outside her tent with her stepfather, and a man you didn’t know. He had broad shoulders and short brown hair that swept above his brow. When he turned to look at you, the first thing you noticed was the cut of his bearded chin, and then the green of his eyes.

You didn’t realize it, but your insides stilled, just for a moment. Then you remembered to smile.

Avery looked a bit tense, as did the newcomer. You sensed you were interrupting a tete-a-tete.

“Uh, hi. I’m sorry,” you said, and extended the sheathed knife toward Emily. “Just wanted to get this back to you. You left it at the table.”

“Oh! Thanks,” Emily said gratefully.

“Well, hi there,” said the new guy. He was tall, you noted, wearing a beige jacket over a buttoned-down shirt, some jeans, and boots. It was a casual look, but all worked very well for him…in a rugged cowboy sense.

“This is my dad,” Emily supplied.

“Sheriff Beau Arlen, ma’am,” he said, giving you a more friendly smile that you matched in kind when you shook his hand. You also gave him your name to go along with it.

“You here for a little belated vacation, Sheriff?” you added.

“No. Matter of fact, I’m here on police business,” he replied. That concerned you, but he was quick to wave a dismissive hand. “Everything’s okay here. Just checking on a missing backpacker. But it looks like we’ll have to continue our search for him elsewhere.”

You hummed at that in concern. “Well, I hope you find him.”

“I do too,” he agreed with a nod.

Then, Emily took the slight pause in the conversation as her chance to escape.

“Okay, Dad, well, we’re gonna go hike down to the lake,” she said, gesturing at Avery. “But as you can see, I’m fine. We’re fine.”

Beau’s smile became a bit tight, but he nodded in understanding. He gave her a big hug, and you could see he was reluctant to let her go. Avery stood behind them. He held tension in his shoulders. You felt a bit awkward yourself, being in the midst of what was clearly an uneasy family dynamic.

Beau released his daughter. After she took off with Avery following close behind, Beau turned to you next. You tried not to blush at the sight of his handsome face.

“Sorry, again,” you said, raising a placating hand. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

His lips twitched upward, and he shook his head. “You’re fine. Though you don’t look like a local. You from outta town?”

I could say the same thing about you, cowboy, you thought. There was a slight southern drawl in his voice that sounded like Alabama. Maybe Texas?

“You got me,” you nodded. “I’m from Chicago originally, but…I’ve actually just moved here to Helena.”

“Ahh, a city girl,” he remarked. “Small world. I just got here a few months ago myself. Houston, Texas.”

Your smile brightened. Right on the money.

“Yeah, I figured,” you couldn’t help teasing him a little. His grin kicked up in the corner.

“How’re the mountains and fresh air treating you then?” he asked. “Better than that blanket a’ smog in Chicago.”

“We do not have smog…or, well, not that much,” you laughed, “but yes, I’m actually really liking it here so far. I mean, I just got here about a week ago. I’m still learning. Though Emily actually tried to help me ride a horse today.”

“Yeah?” His brows raised. “How’d that go?”

You had to laugh. A kind of self-deprecating laugh that had you half-covering your face to stem off your blush.

“Not well,” you admitted.

Beau ducked his head with a smile. He met your eyes in amusement, but not without kindness.

“Well, here’s a tip for ya,” he said. He planted his feet, held his hands up into lightly clenched fists. “The trick is in the legs. Grip tight, but not too tight. He’ll think you’re rarin’ to go.”

You blinked a bit wider. Was that just honest advice…or was he sort of flirting with you?

It made you blush in earnest.

“Ah. Good to know,” you said with a laugh. He treated you with a tip of his imaginary hat.

“Hey,” someone called out.

Both of your heads turned to a tall black woman with long curly hair. She gave you a polite smile before she nodded up at Beau.

“You ready to go?” she asked.

“Ah, yep,” Beau nodded. He gave you an apologetic look. “Sorry, gotta get back to the station.”

“Oh, of course,” you said. But you held up a finger. “Wait, just a sec.”

You hastened back over to the table of confections from brunch and offered them a chocolate chip muffin each for the road. Cassie politely declined, but Beau gladly took his.

“Although, are you trying to stereotype me or somethin’?” he teased.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, but after a moment, it hit you. You’d just given a cop a baked good.

“At least it wasn’t a donut,” you quipped, despite your embarrassment. Beau still looked bemused, but he let you off the hook.

“That’s okay. I’ve never been known to turn down free food,” he assured.

“He really doesn’t,” Cassie confirmed. You noticed how she was waiting, arms crossed.

“Well, there you go! Sorry for keeping you,” you said.

“Not at all, darlin’,” said Beau. His smile had a charming gleam. “Nice to meet you.”

You quirked a smile back. “Wow, you are from Texas.”

You didn’t think you’d ever been called darlin’ in your life.

Beau’s good humor shifted into slight embarrassment himself.

“Sorry. I’ve been told to stop doing that,” he said. When he chuckled, you did along with him. You weren’t offended by it, just surprised by the old-fashioned endearment.

“It’s okay,” you said. “Nice to meet you too, Sheriff.”

You raised a hand in goodbye, and Beau returned it, watching you go. Meanwhile, Cassie watched him with a small smirk. He stepped down from the short platform in front of Emily’s tent to meet her.

“Were you just checking out Glamper Girl? In front of your daughter, no less,” Cassie remarked.

Beau shot her a look of denial. “I did no such thing. I’m a professional. And a gentleman, mind you.”

Cassie rose a brow at him. It stirred up a bit of his defensiveness.

“But, I’ll have you know that Em had already moved on when I had a friendly conversation with the glamper,” he said.

Cassie rolled her eyes. Right.

That afternoon, you decided to bring your sketchpad and your modest collection of paints to the lake. You sat on the bank and tried to paint, while Mary joined the others in swimming.

“That looks nice,” Emily’s voice startled you from behind.

You twisted to look at her, and she gave you an apologetic look. She was dressed to go for a swim in a one-piece bathing suit and some shorts. She seemed more of a conservative dresser than typical high school girls her age. Maybe that had something to do with a policeman being her father, or maybe that was just her personality.

��Sorry,” she said, raising her hands.

“It’s okay.” You waved it off and gestured for her to sit beside you if she wanted. She did so, admiring your work over your shoulder. You felt a little embarrassed by it, but you didn’t mind her watching you try to paint ripples of light on the water.

“Are you an artist?” she asked.

You shot her a smile. “You’re very sweet, but no. I just started this year.”

You’d just Googled some therapeutic techniques instead of, you know, going to therapy. You just knew that if you did, your aunt would probably tell your parents, who would never let you hear the end of it. Specifically, why it was a waste of time. Your father especially would have something to say.

But one of the sources you found suggested trying out some creative outlets to calm the mind and think productively, but not create more stress for yourself. You’d tried a few different things, but landed on painting. It was working for you so far, even if you didn’t think you were that good.

“How do you like Montana so far?” you asked your companion. “Your dad told me you guys just moved here too, a few months ago.”

“Yeah, when my mom got remarried, my dad moved to stay close to me,” Emily explained.

Your brows raised. Your painting hand paused with the brush near the page.

“Well, that’s a good father,” you said. You smiled at the thought of Beau Arlen. The way he hugged his daughter before, like she was his entire world, and the fact that he’d moved entire states just to stay with her, told you a great deal about the town’s new sheriff.

Emily nodded, but her lips were pressed. “He’s a bit overprotective.”

“Well, he is a cop,” You said, smiling. “I assume that’s just part of the package.”

“I get that,” she said. “It’s just…a bit much sometimes.”

You gave her a sympathetic look. “I understand. My dad can be like that too. He’s got his soft moments, but he can be a real tough nut too… He’s a retired fireman.”

“Wow, that’s cool,” Emily said. She looked impressed. “Did you ever want to be a firefighter?”

You chuckled. “No, and he never wanted me to. It just wasn’t my beat, anyway.”

In the many years before your father had risen in the ranks to firehouse chief, your mother had often worried about him when he was on shift. Being a firefighter in inner-city Chicago had brought some hard and dangerous calls.

But you had always been more bookish, and both your parents were grateful for that.

You sighed. Your paintbrush made a stroke of deep green on the page, creating darker shades in the bottom of the lake.

“I did end up dating one though. Almost married him too,” you muttered, before you could stop yourself. You forgot you were talking to an insatiably curious girl.

“Really? What happened?” she asked. You looked over at her, and she was staring at you with her full attention. You remembered then that her podcast was supposed to be about relationships, but you had no desire to be a subject.

“It didn’t work out,” you said at last, and with difficulty.

“Why?” Emily asked.

Your internal struggle kept you quiet. It gave time for Emily to really see the withdrawn, almost pained look on your face, the slight hunch of your shoulders. She deflated guiltily.

“Uh, sorry,” she said.

You offered a small smile. “It’s okay, honey.”

“I’ll uh, just let you get back to painting,” she said. You waved her goodbye after she got up and left, giving you one last look before she joined her stepfather in the lake.

You let out a deep breath. The teen was tenacious, and naturally curious. That in itself wasn’t such a bad thing. But as you watched her splash at Avery, laughing that weightless laugh that kids got to have, you realized how much you missed being that young and free in your heart.

Again, out of habit, you set down your brush and rubbed at your empty left ring finger.

Mary finally joined you back in your shared tent after a long night of socializing by the fire. You had kept to the tent, reading Much Ado About Nothing for one of your classes that would start in the fall. It wasn’t your first time reading the Shakespeare play, by any means, but you did want to brush up on it.

“You know, you’re actually supposed to be vacationing on this vacation,” Mary pointed out. She started changing into her pajamas for bed. You were already cozy in one of your old college hoodies and some shorts, not to mention snuggled under the warm blankets.

“I am,” you said defensively. “I hiked, I painted, I ate no less than one burger, a basket of fries, and three smores, and now I’m reading.”

“Yeah, for school,” she pointed out. “I may not be as smart as you, but I know homework when I see it.”

You shot her a smile. “You’re plenty smart, M.”

She snorted and slipped into bed beside you. It felt like the sleepovers you two used to have in college, years ago, when she’d come to crash in your dorm, or you in hers. She’d been a philosophy major (despite not giving two shits about Socrates), forced to attend college by her parents. You were an English major, working three part-time jobs just to get you through until graduation.

“Hey,” she said, laying a hand on your shoulder. You turned to her in question. She seemed more serious than usual.

“I’m worried about you,” she said. “And I’m not the only one.”

You sighed. Lowering your book, you leaned back against your pillows and stared up at the tent’s fairy lights.

“I know,” you replied. “But you don’t need to be.”

“Yeah you keep saying that, but you know the real reason I’m here, right?” Mary asked. Her insistent hand on your arm made you meet her eyes.

“You don’t have to do this," she said. "You don’t have to move out here and leave everything behind. You should just come home with me. Your parents, our friends—everyone wants to be there for you, like we have all year.”

Your lips pursed, and you shook your head.

“I’m not going to change my mind. So if that’s really why you’re here, and not to just spend some time with me, as my friend, then you should just go home,” you said. “I’ll leave here and go to my aunt’s house. I’m sure your parents can negotiate some kind of refund.”

Mary got angry and huffy, just like you thought she would. You weren’t playing around though. This was your life, and your decision.

If your friends and your family couldn’t be happy for you, or at least understanding, then they could at least respect you. You just weren’t sure when they’d get the hint that this was real.

You were moving to Montana, permanently.

On the drive back into town from the camping site, Beau ate his chocolate chip muffin and tried his best to listen to Cassie—to her theories on where the backpacker might’ve gone, and how best to tell the parents to keep her on this investigation.

A good part of him was still thinking about his daughter, wishing he could be there with her right now.

And maybe, his mind occasionally wandered…thinking about the pretty shade of your eyes when you smiled at him.

AN: And there we have it, Part 1 of a new series! If you liked it, please let me know! 🥰

And a special Happy Birthday to @jackles010378! 💖 I was going to say we're both Aries (mine is next month) but forgot Pisces comes first lol. ♓

Next Time:

The trees were tall and dark now. The moon was filtering through them like the sun had during other day hikes, but it was much more ominous at night.

“Shit,” you muttered. You gripped your flashlight in worry as panic started to well up in your chest.

Now you were lost.

You jumped with a start when the hoot of a bird passed by overhead.

Shiiiit. This was very bad.

You kept moving forward on what you thought was the trail. That was all you could do, keep moving forward. You made a few turns around some trees, occasionally calling out for Sunny, or Mary, or anyone to hear you.

▶️ Keep Reading: Part 2

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anyarose011 · 6 months ago

Text

December Never Felt So Wrong {Angus Tully x Reader}

Summary: You didn't want to go anymore; not after what just happened in your room with Angus. Still, you had to. In the end...well, happy birthday, Jesus; sorry your party was so lame.

Part 6 of ?? (Masterlist)

Warnings: Swearing, in depth discussions of grief, mention of character death.

The song is for you theatre kids; yes, there is a Christmas album of the cast of Hadestown. While I love the original, the one with Reeve Carney and Eva Noblezada hits different. I think this was my favorite one to write so far; especially with the interactions with Mary and Elise. Also, lol, possible interpretation of reader's character having a thing for Elise? Again, it's all up to you, but just wanted to say that. Also, part 3 of not being able to escape being an awkward/moody teenager because it's a fanfiction. Anywho, hope you guys cry, but it'll be worth it :)

Word Count: 6.1k

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You dared not look at Angus the whole drive to Miss Crane’s house. Even when getting into the car, you avoided his gaze like Lot did Sodom and Gomorrah. There was no way, after he was more than likely going to kiss you (or you him), could you even acknowledge his existence.

But why did you stop yourself from kissing him?

No matter, as your father drove all of you to Miss Crane’s house, you managed to block out that question which clawed at your mind. The door was unlocked when you four arrived at seven, and you filtered in. The house was still heavily decorated in Christmas paraphernalia like you had seen it days ago when you were with Elise. Yet, with how many people were gathered on just the first floor alone, it almost felt as if you were entering a stranger’s house.

Well…not exactly.

Truth be told, this was neither you nor your father’s first Christmas party with Miss Crane. You went with your mother to only one before she passed, and even though Miss Crane would still hold out invitations for you and your father…neither of you ever went. Elise and her aunt would understand of course, especially in the first years after your mother passed; Christmas is always a complicated time after the death of a loved one.

“You made it!” Miss Crane’s voice of gratitude and her gently clutching your arm broke your thoughts. “Welcome. Oh, I’m so glad you’re here!”

She had looked at Mary once you nodded with a smile, and Mary mirrored her. “We’re happy to be here. Where should I put these?”

Miss Crane lifted the cover of the brownies Mary was holding at and gasped before taking the tray. “Those I’ll be putting on my bedside table.”

Mary laughed. “Oh, you’re a wicked woman!”

“You have no idea.”

“Certainly a lot of people here!”

Leave it to your father for that to be the first thing he says. Still, Miss Crane took it in stride.

“Yeah, yeah, some family, friends from town. Only you guys from work.”

She spent her time pointing out all of her family members (some you remembered, most you had no idea who they were), and you were honestly blanking out. Up until you saw a familiar face.

“Elise!” You cheered as if she was your guardian angel. You hadn’t even noticed Angus wandered off to stare at a snow globe until you saw him visibly flinch upon your exclamation.

Your friend laughed as you embraced her. “Nice to see you too.”

“It’s been forever!”

“It’s been two days.”

The adults around you merely chuckled, and once again, it was Miss Crane who spoke up. “This is Angus Tully, he’s one of our students at Barton. Angus, this is my niece, Elise.”

Neither of you had pulled away from each other during this whole introduction and were merely still wrapped in each other’s arms as if it were normal. Still, it did not escape you how, once Elise and Angus’ eyes met, it was as if you weren’t there.

“Niece Elise.” He nodded, smiling. “Nice.”

And it seemed like he felt the same. So, there you were, between them in a strange physical and emotional sense. Of course, you were selfish, so you couldn’t revel in the discomfort for long.

“You must forgive him.” You said to Elise but loud enough for everyone to hear. “He’s so simple minded, he finds rhymes to be most intriguing.”

She giggled, shaking her head, and Angus rolled his eyes. “Can you go one night without being mean to me?”

“Fitzwilliam,” you smiled, pulling away from Elise. “you’re asking me not to breathe.”

Your father intervened. “Alright you two; no need to fight when we’ve barely gotten through the door.”

Miss Crane tapped his shoulder, looking back at Elise. “This is Mr. Hunham. He’s one of our finest teachers. History, right?”

“Ancient Civilizations.” He said.

It seemed like her words fell on deaf ears to you, Elise, and Angus. The way they were looking at each other…how Elise would glance at everyone only for her eyes to land back on Angus, and how it was the same for him too…

Neither of them ever looked at you though; only at each other.

Miss Crane called your name, and then Elise’s. “Why don’t you take Angus to the basement and introduce him to our family tradition? Do you remember?” She asked you.

You were honestly so discombobulated, you could only huff. “Good lord, it’s been years.”

“Oh hush, you remember.” Elise teased. “Come on.”

She led you and Angus down to the basement, and you both followed. It was almost frightening how much whiplash you’d gotten just from taking one step down the stairs and was immediately met with Holly Jolly Christmas and the smell of glue. Several kids, as young as five and as old as eleven, sat down at the tables you sat at only once, creating what they deemed to be works of art.

“This is what you wanted to show me?” Angus chuckled.

It was normal for someone to laugh at it. Hell, you knew he was laughing with it, but this was the most he had been on your nerves all week (for many reasons you were too bothersome to list).

“I grew up playing down here during my aunt’s parties.” Elsie smiled, tilting her head to you. “She was only here once, but I still think the pieces we’ve made should be hung in the National Gallery, don’t you agree?” She said your name.

You put on a smile. “For sure.”

“I think it’s kind of cool.” She said. “There’s a purity to it. I mean, every child is an artist. The problem is remaining an artist when we grow up. Picasso said that.”

She could study Art History, perfect her French, move to Paris and work as a tour guide in the Louvre. That was a dream she told you she had ever since you were children; but yet there she was, throwing it all away to flirt with a boy she had just met.

One who wasn’t even attractive at that (not the first lie you told yourself that night).

“Picasso’s cool.” Angus immediately said. “I saw Guérnica once. You know, the big mural, with the horse?”

He attempted to pose like the painting you wish you could see, and it was so dreadful you didn’t know which one was worse; that or him and Elise’s incessant talking about the stupid painting at the stupid Museum of Modern Art in stupid New York City. So, to spare yourself, you immediately ducked into a small table of little girls; something you thought you would do only if you were held at knife point.

Still…they were actually sweet, surprisingly. You all would ramble about meaningless things, which perhaps made it all the more meaningful when you would laugh at the stories they told you; whether it was something tame that happened in kindergarten, or what a third grade girl said to you.

“Boys are stupid.”

You nodded. “That they are. Although, I’ve found that a few of them are nice.”

“I said they’re stupid, not mean.”

“Well, they can be. But again,” you reiterated. “they can be sweet.”

“Not like my daddy.” A six-year-old girl spoke up, drawing on her paper plate with a purple crayon shorter than your temper around some men. “Mama says she ‘put him in the doghouse’. Which is weird, we don’t even have a dog, why would we make a house for him?”

You fought every part of yourself to not laugh. So, you merely smiled politely. “That does seem rather unusual.”

“You talk funny.” One of the older girls said.

“So do you.” Was your reply.

“Do not!”

“Do too.”

“Do not!”

You were about to continue the ridiculous chain until you heard Elise laugh. Your head immediately snapped to see how she and Angus were hunched over some paper with their hands completely covered in paint. It was like the aftermath of a car crash; you couldn’t look away no matter how much you knew deep down it would only hurt you to keep watching.

She had that look in her eyes you rarely ever had with boys, and although you were practically on the other side of the room from them, you could cut the tension with a knife if you had one; and proceed to stab yourself like Juliet.

Then, like you knew she would, Elise kissed him.

That’s what made you tear your gaze away, and you took your father’s advice from long ago: once you felt sick, you ran away.

Your chest was constricting by the time you got up the stairs, and you wanted to say it was because of going up them so quickly, but it wasn’t. Hell, it wasn’t fully because of seeing them kiss, it was a little, but there was something else; what, you had no idea.

This was all your own fault anyway; you told her from the start you didn’t like him (you didn’t, what’s made you change?) and that she’d probably like him (they’d be good for each other too; she’s sweet, he’s not, they’d balance each other out).

Taking a deep breath to calm your racing heart, you decided that whatever was weighing on your shoulders, you weren’t going to let it ruin the rest of your night; Angus and Elise be damned. You decided to people watch to soothe our worries and create imaginary stories for each and every person that passed your way; a game you and your mother played whenever you went out.

There was an older man with his wife, both perhaps in their early nineties. They met in Boston by chance, he had grown up there, she was from Wyoming perhaps and wanted to experience a city to the east that wasn’t New York.

A woman just a little older than you sat by herself with a drink in her hand. She told herself and everyone else she’s content with just sitting against the wall, watching the room be full of life, and she genuinely meant it.

Your father…oh! He was talking with Miss Crane, and it seemed to be going well.

So, to give him privacy, you decided to further wander around the house. All seemed well as Christmas carols played throughout the halls, until you reached the kitchen.

There, hunched over in the corner with her shoes off, was Mary Lamb, trembling. You felt your soul leave your body, and your eyes met Danny (you hadn’t even known he was there until you saw him move towards you).

“I…” He began. “Do you want to try to talk to her?”

All you could do was nod, approaching her. “Mary?”

She shook her head, not saying a word. You stood beside her and saw as tears cascaded down her cheeks. Your breath shuttered with hers; you already knew. Even without her having to tell you, you already knew.

“Do…do you want me to get my dad?” You asked meekly.

Mary didn’t say anything. You just looked at Danny and nodded. Turning on your heel, your chest wasn’t constricting, but you felt like there was something rotten within your stomach. Something so rotten only a parasite would find it delicious and decide to eat every part of you.

Which is of course when you would quite literally bump into Angus Tully coming back up from the basement.

“Hey,” he greeted with the biggest smile on his face. “thought you got lost, where-?” Just as he saw your fallen face, his did as well. “Are you okay?”

You swallowed thickly, feeling tears spring into your eyes. “Where’s my dad?”

“What happened?” He softened his voice and it only made you want to tear him apart.

Shaking your head, you asked again. “Where is he? I…”

He said your name, repeating his question. “What happened?”

Taking a deep breath, you only said. “Mary…”

Angus nodded, not needing anything else. “I’ll go find him.”

You turned back to the kitchen, waiting with bated breath and arms crossed. Your father and Angus came in soon after, seeing Mary the exact same way you saw her over the kitchen counter.

“Mary?” Your father asked gently. “Mary, are you all right?”

“Just leave me alone.” She grumbled.

Danny placed a hand on her back. “Want me to take you home?”

“Back off!” She hissed, turning around. “Back off.”

Your father shut the door as she cried, and you felt shame that you couldn’t even pick your gaze up from the floor while it all happened.

“He’s gone.” She sobbed, and that was all it took for everyone to decide to go home.

Your throat was clogged with emotion the whole time, and you felt bad for asking to say goodbye to Elise as Mary clung to your father and Angus.

“Just make it quick.” Your dad said, and you didn’t even take time to nod, sprinting back to the basement.

It was as if nothing changed, and she smiled up at you once you came down the stairs.

“So?” Her face was all aglow as if you had something good to tell her.

“I…” you swallowed. “We have to go.”

“What?”

“Mary uh, her son…well…” Why couldn’t you just say it?!

Elise nodded. “Oh…I’m sorry.”

“No, no,” you shook your head. “I’m just sorry we have to go; I was having fun.”

She tilted her head to the side, her gentle smile being a dead giveaway, she knew you were lying. But, to not bring that up, you tried another tactic.

“So…Angus.”

Elise shook her head, laughing. “He’s nice and smart too; I can see why you’re friends with him.”

You cringed. “I wouldn’t really say that.”

She said your name, a little more serious. “I know something’s bothering you. I don’t know if it’s with Mary or Angus, but please just tell me.”

It was a lot of things; not being able to go to Copenhagen, Teddy Kountze and Jason Smith being sorry excuses for men, the damn letters, Angus Tully telling your father about the damn letters, Angus Tully in general, the stupid Christmas party and…and…

“I’m…I’m glad you like him.”

No, it wasn’t that but that’s all your mouth could form.

She nodded. “I do, but now after meeting him in person,” she shrugged. “just a friend. Not even really, I barely know him. I don’t know why you’d think he’d be my type.”

“You kissed him.”

“Yeah?”

“What do you mean ‘yeah’?!” You cried. “Don’t lie to me and say you didn’t even have the tiniest crush on him.”

“Like how you’re lying to me right now?”

That was uncalled for (in your mind at the time, in actuality, yeah it was called for). “What?”

“I asked you what’s bothering you, but you’re not telling me.” She looked annoyed now, and that was worse than if she was fuming. “Look, unless you like killed someone, it can’t be that bad.”

Swallowing thickly, you took a few moments to try your best to recover yourself. Saying hesitantly. “I…I think I’m being stupid.”

“That’s impossible.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Why are you stupid?”

“I don’t want you to leave me for some dumb boy.”

She stared at you, and you were surprised how quickly she responded despite the astonished look on her face. “First of all, not going to happen-.”

“-You say that now.”

“Let me finish, please. Second of all, you’re not stupid because of that; not for anything, mind you.”

Taking a deep breath, you shook your head and leaned against the wall of the basement, Judy Garland singing Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas in your ears. “I don’t know why I’m making a big deal about it.”

“It’s normal.” She leaned with you. “Half of my friend group back home ditched me to spend more time with their boyfriends. What’s funny is that some of them have a new one every month.”

“It shouldn’t be normal.”

“It shouldn’t,” She shook her head. “and for the record, I meant it’s normal to freak out about it. I want you to know thought that I won’t do that, and you better not either.”

“Never.” You chuckled. “Besides, a boy has to like me first for that to happen.”

Elise grinned as if she was the Chesire Cat from Alice in Wonderland

“What?” You gave her a look.

“I think you should talk to him.”

You already knew who he was, but your heart still stopped. “I…I…him?! Which him?”

“Just talk to him.”

You stood absolutely still…What the flying fuck were you supposed to do with that information?! Before you could utter another word, Elise hugged you tightly. “Merry Christmas,” she said your name so sweetly before pulling away but still holding you at arm’s length. “if you need anything, just come over; I’ll be here until after News Years.”

All you could do was nod, wishing her a ‘Merry Christmas’ and then having her walk with you up the stairs and out the door. Everyone was waiting for you in the car, and you somberly entered the other side in the back.

“Are you okay, baby?” Mary, to your surprise, was the one to ask.

“Uh huh.” Was your immediate response, nodding.

The rest of the car ride back to Barton was silent, and it began to snow.

It was the second time (two too many) you lied to Mary that winter break; you weren’t fine. You laid awake deep into the night despite the fact you couldn’t hear your father snoring anymore. You not being able to sleep only caused you more stress, which caused you not to sleep.

After tossing and turning for perhaps almost an hour, one thought made you sit up in bed.

You forgot to lay out Christmas cookies and milk.

You also forgot to make the Christmas cookies.

So, not having anything else better to do, you slipped on your shoes, stole your father’s flashlight, and snuck down into the kitchen.

You only needed the flashlight in the darkened halls, because to your surprise, the kitchen was completely illuminated. If that wasn’t enough, you saw Mary sitting at the main counter, smoking a cigarette. You stopped in the doorway, almost hiding behind the corner like you were a little girl again when you first met her.

She glanced at you, not that surprised. “What’re you doing up?”

You pursed your lips. “I wanna make Christmas cookies.”

It was stupid. Even if Santa existed, he wouldn’t bother with a stupid school, so why keep putting out cookies and milk only for you or your father to always be the one eating them and making a joke out of it Christmas morning?

Because why not?

“Okay if I help?” She asked.

A hint of a smile spread upon your lips. “If you don’t mind.”

You and Mary could tie your own aprons, but whenever you cooked together, you liked tying each other’s. You didn’t argue as she told you what ingredients to grab, and soon, after mixing together the wet and dry ingredients, then rolling the dough out, you were placing down several upon several different cookie cutters.

It all seemed well, working with only limited amount of talking but still smiling, and then, the thought that loomed in the back of your mind came forward.

“You alright?” You looked up at her and nodded without saying anything. She sighed, saying your name. “I know you’re not; and I know you weren’t after talking to miss Elise. Now, what is it?”

“Tell her.” your thoughts urged over and over again.

“I…” You sucked in a breath. “Can I ask you something? And you can tell me to fuck off if it’s-.”

“-Hey,” she interrupted. “baby Jesus is being born in half an hour, don’t use that kind of language; but yes, what is it?”

You surprised yourself by laughing briefly, then asking. “What was he like? Like…before I met him?”

Mary looked up, and for a moment you thought she was going to break down again, but she shook her head, returning back to cutting the cookies and placing them on the baking sheet. “Not much different from when you were nine and he was ten.”

“He always teased me for being two years older than me until he realized my birthday was before his,” you smiled. “then he wasn’t so old for a while.”

She nodded. “I think that was the only thing he was competitive at.”

“What was the first thing he wanted to be when he grew up?”

“Fireman.” She answered without having to think.

You grinned. “And what’d you think of that?”

“I knew he’d grow out of it.”

“And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“What was little Mary like?”

She huffed, a jesting smile on her face and that was enough for you. “Young, in love, could be freer than a bird one moment, and then quiet with her nose in her Bible the next.”

“How’d you meet Curtis’ dad?”

“School,” she peeled the last residue cookie dough off the cookies. “we were in choir together.”

“Wait a minute,” You giggled, picking up one of the sheets of cookies. “you never said you were in choir!”

She took the other one, and you both walked to the preheated oven, and she opened it. “I thought that was obvious when I took you and Curtis to church?”

“We were too busy plugging our little ears.”

“Hey!” She scolded after sliding in her sheet.

“Because of Old Lady Washington!”

“I understand if her singing was like a dying cat, but she was a good woman, God rest her soul. So, you say a prayer for her right now, you nasty, rotten creature.”

Sighing heavily, you take one hand off the tray you were holding to make the sign of the cross, and mouth a prayer.

“That’s better.” Mary nodded. “You want me to put the cookies in for you?”

“I’m a big girl.” You stated proudly, but as you bent down to slide the baking sheet into the oven, you hesitated, feeling the heat already burn your fingers.

You gave it to Mary yet felt no shame doing so.

“You wanna frost them?” She asked, and you both sat down at the table, waiting for them to bake.

“No.” You shook your head. “Too tired.”

“Thank you.” Mary said. “It’s…it’s good to talk about Curtis. I think I miss you both being little the most; don’t tell your dad I said that.”

Chuckling, a memory came to mind; one you thought you would take to your grave but…perhaps it was a good time to share it.

“You know…” you trailed off, a hint of sudden uneasy but joy lacing your insides. “Shit, I’ve never told anyone this before. But…he and I were each other’s first kiss.”

“Oh, I’ve known that.” Mary answered nonchalantly. “It was the first thing he told me when he got home that night.”

“Are you kidding me?!” You laughed.

“Hey,” She said playfully. “keep it down; the men need their beauty sleep.”

Shaking your head, you couldn’t help your giggling. “I mean, fuck, it meant nothing; we weren’t even teenagers, we just watched it in movies, saw my mom and dad do it like once, so of course we were curious. No, no, you wanna know the best part?” Sudden laughter filled your lungs, and you could barely make a coherent sentence. “I-I had a crush on him from thirteen to fifteen, and he had a crush on me when he was ten until he was, God I don’t actually remember. He enlists months ago, not even a full year, and before he goes that’s when he tells me had liked when we were kids. It-It meant nothing, he just wanted to let me know and-!”

Mary’s hand on yours never grounded you faster. Your whole world stopped, and when you looked at her, seeing her eyes that were both concerned, but not at all shocked, your heart did as well. You dropped your head in shame.

“I’m sorry.”

“Never be.” She squeezed your hand.

“I…” you suddenly lost your voice for a second. “I think I…I think I miss him.”

What a stupid way to say it. Of course you did, you had been ever since your father woke you up in the early morning to let you know. Still…what you knew the whole night, what the most bothersome thing that had been festering within you was:

“He’s really gone.”

“Me too.” She said softly, pulling you into a hug.

You couldn’t cry. You wanted to, God, you wanted to. You teared up this time around, but somehow, despite realizing everything all at once…no cathartic outburst, no weeping and screaming without a care in the world…

Just you and Mary Lamb, holding each other for only God knows how long.

“Oh,” Mary’s voice took you out of the peacefulness, and turned to see what she was looking at. “another one.”

There, in a white shirt and plaid pajama pants, was Angus Tully; hiding behind the corner just as you did.

“I’m surprised you managed to make your way through the school without bumping into anything.” Mary stole the comment you would’ve made if you weren’t frozen already.

Angus leaned against the wall, crossing his arms and smiling. “I’m surprised neither of you heard it. What’re you doing up so late?”

He was looking at you when he asked, and you wanted to take the butter knife off the counter and gouge out his eyes to get him to stop.

Instead, all you said was. “Christmas cookies.”

“Nice.” He nodded, and the kitchen was left in a silence colder than the air outside.

Mary looked in between the both of you, before pursing her lips and untying her apron. “Well, I’m off to bed.”

“But-.” You began.

“-Angus, you’ll help take the cookies out of the oven, won’t you?” She asked him. “Little Jane Bennett’s always been scared of getting burnt.”

“Mary.” You warned, both about exposing your irrational fear, and also leaving you alone.

He nodded, grinning from ear to ear, and you wanted to throw him out an open window. “For sure.”

“Alright,” she sighed in relief, then walking past him to her room. “Merry Christmas you two, and don’t stay up too late.”

“No promises.” Angus joked, turning his head. When he looked back at you, you stood a little taller as if trying to compete with his height. He stuck his hands in his pockets. “Hey, I actually wanted to tell you-

“-Would you like some hot chocolate?” You sputtered out.

He blinked, taking in your question. “Yeah…yeah that sounds great. I don’t know where they keep the packets-.”

“-No, I’ll make you what my mom made me.”

…Was this your way of telling him you liked him? It could be worse; you could’ve said: ‘You’re so pretty, I want to throw a rock at you.’

Still, he smiled. “Alright then, what do we need?”

Technically, high quality chocolate, but you were at Barton; which would spend its funds on fancy buildings and overpriced textbooks, but not chocolate, which was complete bullshit.

So, the two of you stood over the stove, milk in a saucepan, a small tub of vanilla, salt, half a bag of M&Ms (courtesy of Angus Tully’s payment for waking you up the week before), whipped cream, and a full jar of milk chocolate chips.

“Why are we putting salt into hot chocolate?” He asked as you stirred the milk.

“It enhances the taste, besides, it’s just a pinch. Okay, pour in the chocolate.”

“All of it?”

“No, just…you know, my mom eyeballed it, so just don’t do all of it.”

He nodded, and you moved aside as he poured in half of the jar. You stirred it in as it quickly melted, then poured what you guessed to be a tablespoon of vanilla in. Your stirring was hypnotizing, so of course you zoned out, and didn’t even realize it until Angus brushed your bare arm.

You jumped, gaze immediately snapping to him. “What?”

He gave you a look; not one of annoyance like you expected. Well, there was a hint of that, but you quickly found out it was to mask concern. “I asked you what you thought of the party before Mary.”

“Oh…” you blinked. “Yeah, it was nice.”

Angus nodded. “You ran off at one point, what happened?”

“Bathroom; girl stuff.” You hoped that was enough to throw him off your trail, which it was.

He visibly tensed. “Oh…”

“Yeah.” you dropped your gaze back to the hot chocolate.

The only sound was the whisk hitting the saucepan as you stirred, then pulled it out to let it sit.

“So uh, is that why you’ve been acting weird this whole day?”

You slammed the whisk on the counter. “How fucking dare you!”

He flinched. “What?!”

“Is pissing blood the only good reason why I’d be like this?”

“Well, if I was, I’d be a bit impatient too.”

“You-,” you laughed, exasperated. “you’re a piece of shit.”

He clenched his jaw. “So then why are you upset?”

Avoiding his gaze, you mustered up the only other truth you could tell him. “I can’t find one of my books.”

Angus scoffed. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously!” You gritted your teeth. “My dad read it to me all the time as a kid, and I couldn’t find it when packing last week, so I’ve just been-.”

“-Bullshit, it can’t be that good of a book.”

“Fuck you, it’s The Little Prince!”

“Look,” He hardened his tone. “I’m not buying it. And if it’s not you being a girl that apparently makes you hate me so much today, or really any day of the week, than what is it?”

The egg timer went off with a loud ringing. You quickly shut it off, having to stop yourself from slamming it back on the counter. You took the oven mitts and opened the oven, reaching in for one of the baking sheets.

After placing down that one, you turned to get the other only to see that Angus, with a washcloth in his hand, held the other. He placed the sheet down by yours.

Throwing the oven mitts off, you sighed heavily, rubbing your temples. Once you found an ounce of calmness, you said. “I know you told my dad.”

You didn’t even say what he told him, he already knew. His face fell, and it was the first time you wished it didn’t. You wished he denied it, got angry at you, hell, blame you for it somehow like so many other boys could have.

But he didn’t…he was ashamed.

Angus tucked his hands into his pockets, avoiding your gaze. “I…I was worried about you.”

Your heart stammered. “Why?”

“It…” he was confused. “What do you mean ‘why’? Some guy who your family isn’t friends with anymore was telling you to take pictures of yourself-.”

“-That’s none of your business.”

“It was for a while; not now, but that’s why I told your dad.”

You swallowed thickly, the emotion of the party, missing Curtis, and now threatening to fully break you. You shook your head. “I’m not angry at you; I’m…sorry I treated you weirdly, but…I don’t know.”

He took a deep breath. “I get it.”

You were both left in silence once again. You took a spoon out of one of the drawers, preparing yourself to taste test it. Then, to fill the empty air, you asked the only thing on your mind.

“So…Elise.”

He looked at you, then down at the counter. “What about her?”

“She’s sweet.”

“Yeah…yeah, she’s nice.”

“So,” you dragged out the ‘O’, almost having fun with teasing him about a girl as if you didn’t know how he felt about you. “do you like her?”

He furrowed his brow. “What, like, like like her?”

Giggling, you said. “Well yeah, you immature asshole.”

“I’m not immature.” He fired back, trying to hide his smile.

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

“And for the record, no, I don’t like her like that.”

You nodded. “Not even when she kissed you?”

His lips thinned into a line, and you never saw a man look more uncomfortable from your own doing (besides when you alluded to him not being able to pleasure a woman only yesterday when he dislocated his arm). “Yeah, even when she kissed me.”

You smiled even though you felt strange. You took the spoon and dipped it into the hot chocolate. “Was that your first?”

“Yep.”

“I don’t know what’s the matter with you.” You teased, bringing the spoon up to your lips. “You closed your eyes, and when you opened them, you realized a pretty girl kissed you.”

“What if I wished it was you?”

You brought the spoon away from your lips instantly; both from how hot it was, and from what he had just admitted.

Immediately, he realized what he said, and stumbled over his words. “I-I uh, shit I didn’t-.”

“-Hot.” You interrupted, your mouth burning. “Yeah, yeah, it’s hot.”

“Oh.” He jumped back. “Uh, do you need water or-?”

“-No, no, I’m fine.” An idea (a horrid and dreadful one) came to mind when you turned off the stove and took the sauce pan off the burner. “Um…do you want to taste it?”

Angus nodded, wanting to do anything but acknowledge what just happened. “Yeah, yeah sure.”

He turned to grab a spare spoon off the counter behind him, but you took his face into your hands and brought your lips to his.

There was a delay in his reaction, but soon, his arms wrapped around you, and he pulled you in impossibly closer. Even if it technically wasn’t either of your first kiss, you acted as if it was; well…perhaps it actually was, at least a real one. It was sloppy, there wasn’t a rhythm (you didn’t even know you needed one to properly kiss apparently), and you were torn between keeping your hands on his face or trailing them through his hair.

Which is why you pulled away as soon as you felt it started. Angus, still with his eyes closed, leaned back into you at the loss, but soon snapped out of it once you backed away, catching your breath.

“Are…” he was catching his too. “are you okay?”

“What?” You asked, almost out of it. “Yeah just, needed to breathe.”

“Yeah-yeah, me too.”

It should’ve been uncomfortable; the most uncomfortable you’ve felt the whole night…but then, after you both could breathe normally, and looked at each other, you started laughing.

“How-how was it?” He asked in between snickers.

Your face hurt from smiling. “My lips are burning.”

“Really?”

“I mean, from the hot chocolate but-.”

“-You’re mean.” He shoved you playfully.

You scoffed. “And you’re just a baby. So, how’d it taste?”

His teasing halted. “…What?”

“The hot chocolate.” You asked innocently. “Did it taste good?”

Still being thrown through a loop, he took a longer time to respond before quite literally shaking himself out of it. “Uh, yeah-yeah. I uh-don’t add anything, it’s good.”

“Nice. Hand me some mugs, top shelf to the right.”

He followed without complaint, and you served up the hot chocolate, then drowning both of them in whipped cream before crushing up the M&Ms and sprinkling them on top.

The cookies were cooled by then, so you shared them as well while drinking your hot chocolate. Just as you spoke with the little girls at your table, you spoke about things that, to anyone else, would be meaningless; stories from childhood, school, books, the list went on. Still, for the first time in many days…it felt like there was no tension of any kind between you.

When all was said and done, you cleaned your dishes, then set out cookies and milk.

“For Santa?” He asked.

“Who else?” You questioned.

And this was when you knew Angus Tully was a good person. Despite the opening for overbearing teasing, and how you wouldn’t have minded it at all, he didn’t do anything of the sort. He simply smiled.

The two of you walked hand in hand back to the infirmary, taking extra care to be quiet. When you were in the doorway of your room, you turned to Angus.

“Merry Christmas.” You grinned, feeling your heart do somersaults the way he looked at you.

“Merry Christmas.” He said back, smiling as he cupped your face and kissed your cheek so tenderly.

Your face could’ve lit up the room once he pulled away you were smiling so much. You both uttered another ‘goodnight’ to each other and made your way to your beds.

You didn’t sleep much that night, but instead of it being from grief, it was from excitement. Excitement of finally letting something good happen to you.

#angus tully x reader #angus tully #the holdovers #paul hunham #mary lamb #Youtube

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