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resowrites · 4 months

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Special Brew - oneshot.

Summary: Henry’s interview gets gatecrashed…

Pairings: AU!Henry Cavill x Reader/Wife!OC, Interviewer

Warnings: fluff, banter/British humour, fake interview, language, dialogue heavy, nondescript reader/OC body type/appearance, hastily written/lightly proofread.

WC: 2221

A/N: Hi folks I know it’s been a while, work’s nuts these days. This is very rushed and was meant to be longer (I wanted to base it on something I’d written previously) but for the sake of just getting something uploaded I decided to post as is. Sorry I can’t post regularly anymore but I hope you enjoy all the same - R x

Remember, this is pure fiction (as in completely made up), and not in any way meant to reflect reality. My work must not be copied, reposted, or translated elsewhere. Gifs/pics not my own. Thanks for visiting!

Special Brew - oneshot.

The following is an excerpt from an article that can be read in full here.

— It's at about the halfway mark in my interview with the 41-year-old Hollywood actor, Henry Cavill, when I notice his attention is caught by something offscreen.

"Where did you get that?" I think I hear 'the fridge, you dickhead,' in reply. He grins. But instead of resuming our discussion about his upcoming role in the rebooted 80's classic, Highlander, he starts gesturing for someone to join him. It fails. So seconds later his partner is pulled onto his lap despite some very loud protestations. He tells her it's her fault for taking his last tin of lager. She tells him she needs it more. What then follows is an almost a four-and-a-half minute squabble - yes I actually timed it - which ends with Henry relinquishing the can on the proviso that if he has to be interviewed, she does as well. I don't take offense but soon wondered if that was premature:

"Who's interviewing you? The Telegraph?"

"No, The Guardian--"

"Wouldn't the Telegraph be more interested?" He gestures in my direction.

"Well, I assume Mark is all the same!"

"And how long have you been keeping this poor bastard?"

"We've not even been chatting half an hour!"

"Oh… have you got a second question for him?" I smile. The 35-year-old financier first met the actor in 2015 and they were rumoured to have married in 2022. Not that either of them, his publicist, or even various social media accounts provide much in the way of confirmation. This seems to stem more from a desire for privacy where possible than anything else. Though it must be said, at first glance they make for an incongruous pair. She catches me peering at her still towel-wrapped hair, Celtic jersey, and joggers combo and wastes no time striking first:

"That's a nice shirt--"

"Don't be cheeky, just 'cos you could have made more of an effort--"

"It's my day off! At least I don't look like an undercover policeman." Is she referring to Henry or myself?

"I don't know, stand up," I laugh but he just rolls his eyes. "Has he apologised for Aryglle yet? To be fair that was actually my fault, I wanted a new kitchen." This lays the ground for what is arguably one of the most chaotic interviews I've experienced in a while.

"Do you see what I mean, Mark? It's not that she wouldn't be media trained, it's that she couldn't." Now she rolls her eyes.

"See, he thinks he's being slick by making me look bad--"

"I'm the one who does that?!"

"So he looks better by comparison--"

"Is that right? And what was wrong with Aryglle?!"

"Nothing! It's the best thing you've ever done. Even if you didn't mean for it to be." She coughs to try and cover a laugh. I ask for her thoughts on his most recent box office offering (Guy Ritchie's spy action comedy, The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare) but for a split second, the title escapes me.

"You mean The Manly Ministry of Something?" Henry tuts and grabs back the can. I dare to question if she has a low opinion of the profession in general. "No, it's more to do with the actors themselves." How so? "Well, considering they're usually the biggest gobshites you'd think it'd be great craic hanging out with them--" he quickly interjects.

"Who are you calling a gobshite?!"

'What do you mean?"

"You know fine well what I mean!" Henry turns back towards me and continues. "Even her own mother took me aside a couple of weeks after we started dating to try and warn me--"

"She never! What did she say?"

"Do you really want to discuss that right now?!" It can't be that bad then, I respond. He shakes his head, despairingly. "Oh no, just that she once walked on stage at a school assembly and instead of graciously accepting an award, pretended to trip so she could drag every single trophy off the display table!"

"… Can you tell he went to a private school?" I almost spit my drink out.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you not realise how tame that sounds?!"

"But that was just the first month you were there!"

"Then I deserved an award--"

"Hang on, she also told me that when you had an after-school detention on your birthday, you climbed out the window of the room you were being supervised in--"

"Normally I'd just get on the bus and go home so that time they gave me a personal escort--"

"And then refused to come down from the roof unless they gave her a birthday cake!" Laughter rings out between our two screens. "In the end, they had to call the fire brigade and she became the reason why their school couldn't properly open their windows any more--"

"I also got a ride home in a fire engine so, hands down one of my best birthdays." Henry sighs. I wonder aloud how this contrasts with his own experiences of school.

"Er, I mean I was a bit of a goody-two-shoes, so I felt a bit intimidated by that sort of thing."

"He still is." He now chokes on his drink. Does this mean they wouldn't have crossed paths as kids?

"Nah, she'd have bullied me then as well." They both laugh. So she hasn't mellowed at all in the intervening years?

"I would say I have, yeah… you do as you get older." Henry's eyebrows hit the ceiling.

"Oh right, so I just hallucinated that night at the Bafta’s then?" She clears her throat and takes a large swig from the can. Is this why she doesn't typically attend red carpets with him?

"Ugh, I'd rather shit in my hands and clap--"

"That and the fact you're a fucking liability!" She shrugs as he explains. "A few years ago, I made the mistake of dragging her along to the after-party--"

"Well, that explains why I didn't fucking remember. Why did I have to come? You didn't win anything you were just presenting--"

"Oh fuck off! I even promised to take her on holiday for a couple of weeks if she at least tried to behave herself--"

"'Cos that's a good incentive--"

"And Jesus Christ, never again. If I wasn't blackballed in this industry before, I was that fucking night--"

"No, it's 'cos you won't take acting lessons." Henry smirks and tries to cover her mouth this time.

"At least I didn't go up to a circle containing Judi Dench, Helen Mirren--"

"Look at him dropping names! And it's Dame Judi…"

"And last but not least, the Meryl Streep--"

"You know, of Mama Mia…" A laugh escapes me before I can stop it.

“Only to ask them where their cauldron was!"

"But that's the great thing about being a nobody, you can say whatever want--"

"You're not a nobody--"

"No, I'm your plus one…" They howl with laughter. "The best thing is to underdress slightly as well so they think you're staff, the reactions are even better." And what was the response? "None of them heard me." He snorts.

"Judi just burst out laughing--"

"Judi! Like they're friends! Yeah, well she saw us arrive together so I think she was onto me."

"Luckily she's got a robust sense of humour…"

"Not like that other one. Oh, what's his name? You know… the one that says he'd rather be making shoes?" Sir Daniel Day-Lewis?

"Yeah, she asked him if he wanted her to go look for his top hat." I can feel my own jaw drop.

"That's how he reacted! Oh God, I'd give my left tit to relive it…" I ask where Henry is when these interactions go down. "Usually trying to find the nearest exit--"

"Is it any wonder!"

"But we were only there twenty minutes--"

"And he wasn't even the first Daniel you managed to piss off!" And who was that?

"Dan Snow." The broadcaster? Henry glances heavenward, exasperated.

"No, Jon Snow - and she means Kit Harrington. She got talking to him and somehow things managed to go south even quicker than usual." I can see how referring to him instead as the 50-year-old historian might have that effect. "No, it wasn't that, it was when he asked whether she was enjoying Game of Thrones--"

"Which is presumptuous isn't it?" For once even I'm at a loss for words.

"And so she asked him if that's the show with dragons and when he said 'yes,'" he starts cracking up, "she went 'then, no.'" I don't think I've ever seen a man look so crestfallen - not even when you accosted Sam." Mr. Rockwell? I'm assuming that took place while Henry was still on the Argylle press tour?

"Oh yeah that was a gas, I waited until we were a bit better acquainted--"

"So the poor sod had his guard down--"

"And on the last day, I asked if he'd sign a picture for me. I think he assumed it was for a friend or something so he wasn't expecting me to thank him for gifting Henry his picture to put above the toilet--"

"What's worse is that it was that still from The Green Mile, you know? Literally, the first one that pops up on Google!" This anecdote puts me in mind of a similar story I heard on the grapevine during the first season of Netflix's The Witcher. Against my better judgment, I ask him if knows what I'm talking about and immediately his eyes flash in recognition.

"Yeah, and it pains me to say that's also true."

"What is?"

"Your stunt at the Witcher premiere…" For a moment she looks genuinely confused. "Don't pretend you can't remember!"

"Remember what? I wasn't even there!"

"And even that didn't spare me!"

"Oh I can't fucking win Mark, all I did was try and bring a smile to his face 'cos I knew he was sad about me having to work that night--"

"So naturally you had an 8x10 still printed of me with Orlando Bloom's head (as Legolas), photoshopped on top? Which, by the way, you could have just messaged me. But what did you do instead? You made dozens of copies and had my bodyguard hand them out to fans for me to sign." She waits for a beat.

"But how long did it take for you to notice?" Gentle reader, when I tell you this is one of only a handful of occasions I've ever laughed so hard in an interview, it's because I want you to know how rare that's actually been over a 35-year career in entertainment journalism. Still, I imagine that if she was brazen enough to taunt some of Hollywood's most influential stars, far worse shots have since been fired.

"Oh yeah, why don't you tell Mark how you recently mouthed off to Aaron Taylor Johnson?" Even she begins to look sheepish.

"Yeah, but I was only trying to make conversation." Henry's head falls into his hand. She snickers. What on earth happened? "Honestly, nothing. I just said I hoped he really was being considered for Bond ‘cos he looks great in a suit." I hardly know how to respond. "Now that I think about it, he probably just thought I got you two mixed up--"

"Stop it right now!"

"What? You bought me in on this interview!" This of course is true and seems to serve a more serious purpose the longer our conversation continues. That he adores her is plain - his eyes never leave her. But it's the fact she can keep making him laugh, even under the scrutiny of being interviewed, that seems to make all the difference. Is that the key to the success of their relationship? "Well, that and the fact he's gone for six months out of any twelve--"

"So all the messages saying you miss me is just lip service?"

"Oh alright, it's cos he's got a huge… heart. Almost as big as his bank balance." Henry's legs are suddenly thrown in the air. At first, it seems he lost his balance, but judging from how quickly he then chases her from the room, I assume it was she who pulled the lever on his office chair that sent him hurtling to the floor.

A couple of days later, I received a brief email from her which apologised for them both having 'christened more than a couple of ships' that day and explained how she was grateful that even though she 'had a lot of baggage' before they met, Henry refused to give up on her. She signed off with the following; 'His biggest problem is his limited self-belief. But seriously, he's admired because, in a professional and personal life full of arseholes, he's still, as Virginia Woolf said of her husband right before she died by suicide, 'entirely patient and incredibly good'. I'll never be drunk enough to say that to his face so I've cc'd him in.' I double-checked and saw that she had indeed emailed him as well. It's an oddly moving, albeit characteristically funny postscript and one that underlines her devotion to him no matter what. We should all be so lucky.

The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare is on Amazon Prime Video.

To be updated on when I post please follow @resowrites and turn on post notifications.

@fanfictionaddiction99 @luclittlepond @caffeinatedfestivalsheep @summersong69 @ushijimbo @livesinfantasyland @jackjanira @thearcana-moonlight

#henry cavill #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x reader

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scotianostra · 4 months

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May 18th 1313 saw Robert the Bruce invade the Isle of Man.

The Isle of man has changed hands many times through the centuries, if you go back to Scotland before King Alexander III died, plunging the country into the Wars of Independence, he had extended his Kingdom to include Man and Berwick, both of which are part of England nowadays.

Scotland’s rule was not welcomed in 1275 an uprising in Man against Scottish rule was brutally suppressed. The chronicles tell us that…..

“ Upon the 7th of October, the Fleet of the King of Scotland put into the port of Ronaldsway. John de Vesci and the King’s nobles immediately landed their forces on the island of St. Michael, the people of Man being prepared for the encounter, along with Godred, the son of Magnus, whom they had made their king but a short time previously. The chiefs and officers of the King of Scotland, however, sent an embassy of peace to Godred and the people of Man, offering them the peace of God and of the King of Scotland on condition of their laying aside their absurd presumption, and of giving themselves up to the King and his nobles. As Godred, however, and some of his perverse counsellors did not agree to the terms of the embassy, on the following day, before sunrise, whilst darkness still covered the earth, … an engagement took place, and the unfortunate people of Man, running away, fell miserably “

If you notice the names of Godred and Magnus, the island was still very influenced by the Scandinavians. Their influence was again noted in 1291 when

” the Noble Lady Maria, Queen of Man" a member of the Scandinavian royal family of Man, did homage to Longshanks at Perth. Two years later in early 1293, Walter de Huntercombe, who held Man for a short time, surrendered the island to John Balliol by Edward’s order, of course Edward had the proviso that Balliol swore him allegiance. The next year Balliol refused to send Scottish soldiers to fight with Edward against the French, the Scottish King entered into the Auld Alliance and also formed a little known Alliance with Norway. Furious Edward marched his army into Scotland and the Wars of Independence raged for several years, during this time little is written about Man, it seems he garrisoned soldiers there and it feel under English rule. Edward I and his son Edward II “gave” the Island to differing lords to administrate until 1313, the chronicles tell us that

“In the year 1313, on the 18th of May, Lord Robert [Bruce], King of Scotland, put in at Ramsay with a large number of ships, and on the following Sunday went to the nunnery at Douglas, where he spent the night, and on Monday laid siege to the Castle of Rushen, which was defended by the Ilord Dungali Mac Dowyle 41 against the said Lord King until the Tuesday after the Feast of St. Barnabas the Apostle (June 21), on which day the said Lord King took the Castle.” On the 20th of December, in the same year, Bruce granted the island to Thomas Randolf, Earl of Moray, “

The defeat of the English at Bannockburn consolidated the Scottish position. It’s a bit vague about what happened but the English seemed to have taken control, under Edward I by 1317, and he had committed the island to the safe keeping of John de Athy and orders him to provide three ships and

” a sufficient armament of warlike men “ to protect ” it against the hostile attacks of our enemies and rebels the Scots.“ But it is a bit confusing as , three months later, Randolf, Earl of Moray, is spoken of as ” being about to set out for the parts of Man,“

Some sort of truce prevailed for some time on the run up to 1328, when the independence of Scotland was formally acknowledged and the King of England gave an undertaking not tc assist any enemies of the Scots to dispossess their of Man,” it is probable that Man had before that date reverted to Scotland. Roll on to 1333 and the English were at it again, with the help of the “disinherited” they helped John Balliol’s son Edward invade Scotland, which brought us to today’s date that year when Edward III gave orders that possession should be taken of Man. He granted the custody of the island to Sir William de Montacute, and, further, on the 9th of August, he gave it to him as his absolute possession-in the words of the grant - he

“ remitted, surrendered, and … assigned peaceful possession of all the rights and claims which we have, have had, or in any way could have in the Isle of Man, … so that neither we, nor our heirs, nor any other in our name shall be able to exact or dispose of any right or claim in the aforesaid Island,” thus not reserving any service to be rendered to himself.“

The Scots again threatened to retake Man in 1337 but it was unsuccessful, the Isle of Man has since been seen as part of England.

#scotland #scottish #history #england #english #isle of man #medieval history #first war of scottish independence

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layla4567 · 1 year

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i'M NOT DOING IT

Evan's quicksilver x fem!reader

Summary: The girls (mainly Rogue and you) have the idea of recreating their favorite movie at school for a day. With the proviso that everyone must be dressed in keeping with the theme, and you hope that a certain sprinter will too Warnings: p in v, virgin reader, teasing, suggestive, also fluff Word count: 4k

A/N: I clarify just in case that the personalities of some secondary characters I don't remember so much so I basically invented some things

Rogue shared a room with me and what we liked to do the most was watch old movies, especially "Grease", it was our favorite. We loved the music and the clothes that people wore at that time. We were actually watching it for the fifth time lying on our bellies on the mattress with our elbows propped up on soft pillows and our faces resting on our palms when out of the blue the idea struck me.

"Hey, wouldn't it be great to host a day like Grease?"

"A day like Grease? What are you talking about?"-She asked me confused without taking her eyes off the screen.

"Yes, I mean…"-I straightened up a bit to get a better look at her face- "A whole day dressed as the characters from the movie, we can even decorate the whole school!"

Now Rogue was looking at me with interest.

"And do you think others would like the idea? You know how difficult it is to agree with everyone"

"Well, we'll try! And if they don't want to, we will force them!"

I got up on my knees and slammed my fist against my hand in a determined gesture that made my friend laugh.

Then I grabbed the remote and turned off the TV

"Hey!"

And then I stood up on the bed and started jumping up and down, then jumped down and grabbed Rogue's arm.

"Come on! we have to prepare everything!!"

"Woah, woah wait, now? I thought we would organize it in a few days"

"Do not leave for tomorrow what you can do today"-I wink at her and drag her through the halls giggling

We were chatting in the aisles planning what we were going to buy when we felt a breeze pass in front of us and as if it were an apparition Peter Maximoff stood in front of us with his arms on his hips.

"Hello ladies, what are you doing?"

Peter looked from me to Rogue with a suspicious look and a playful smile.

Peter and i had been dating for a couple of weeks and he always followed me around like a little dog. It's not that he controlled me or was toxic but sometimes he got bored and he liked to know what I was doing and if I could do it with him

"Why do you want to know, to ruin our plans?"-Rogue crossed his arms.

Peter chuckled

"Why do I always think that I want to do bad things?"

And after saying that, the sprinter looked at me with a mischievous smile and raised eyebrows. Why did he always have to misthink everything? I rolled my eyes

"Anyway, Y/n I'm going to look for the other girls to go buy things, we'll wait for you at the entrance of the mansion"- Anna patted me on the shoulder and walked quickly away waving her white locks of hair.

Quicksilver put his hands in the pockets of his silver jacket and looked at me curiously.

"So, May I know what you have to buy?"

"How nosy you are, my dear"

"And so you love me"-he winked

I pushed my cheek with my tongue trying to suppress a smile, Peter knew that I couldn't get mad at him because as he said, I adore him that annoying.

"Ok you win, I'll tell you but promise me that you will join our plans without complaining"

Peter looked at me skeptically and pretended to think about it.

"Fine, spit it out"

"Anna and I are planning to recreate the Grease movie and dress up as the characters from the movie as well as decorate the place with some things."-I said with a beaming smile as I did a little dance.

Peter let out such a laugh that he put his hand to his stomach while bending his entire torso forward

"Don't count me in"-he said while wiping away his tears

I looked serious and indignant at Peter, typical of him always making promises that he doesn't know how to keep..

"But you said you would join!"

"Yeah..I should have thought better of it"

"Peter Maximoff!!"-I exclaimed angrily

Peter hated it when she called him by his full name to get his attention, and it always worked.

"Ok, ok, don't get mad, I'll join on the condition that you give me a kiss"

"How immature you are"

Pet looked at me with puppy dog eyes and pouted. Was he trying to hurt me with that?

"Ugh, not the puppy eyes again"-I sighed

I grabbed Maximof by the face and gave him a tender kiss on the tip of his nose which tickled him and made him laugh, he kept insisting that I give him more kisses so I kissed his forehead, his cheeks and finally his lips. But it was a quick kiss that made Peter give me a disappointed and sad "Oh." He expected something more.

"You will have to wait until you find me in the courtyard when everything is ready"-I blew Peter a flying kiss as I walked away smiling

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

I met up with Rogue, Jean and Jubilee to go thrift store shopping. It had taken some convincing for Jean but we did it on the condition that she would not wear skirts or dresses. We headed for the city with the old Renault Jubilee. We not only had to buy clothes for ourselves but also for our colleagues, well, at least those who wanted to participate and if we couldn't buy for everyone, we agreed that those who wanted to participate could wear their own clothes but that they should be as vintage as possible. We entered all the stores we could find and bought dresses, blouses, jackets and also pennants and old posters of singers, I was even able to get a vinyl in almost perfect condition.

Jubilee chose a leather jacket and a white skirt with red polka dots, while I opted for an outfit quite similar to Sandy's in the final scene of the film. Rogue, who was by my side looking at the dresses, praised (in her own way) the black leather leggings that I had grabbed.

"Those leggings are going to look great on you, they'll mark your ass and you'll make Peter follow you behind drooling like a dog"

The girl's comment made the others burst into laughter.

"Anna!"-I screamed as I felt my cheeks turn red.

"Come on, you have to admit that you have Peter eating out of the palm of your hand, he would do anything for you or he wouldn't have agreed to do this."-Jean replied

I smiled proudly, Peter despite being a stressful nuisance at times, I knew that he loved me with all his being and that love was mutual. But I couldn't help but laugh too when imagining him melting just by seeing me in a set of clothes like that.

We finished buying everything we needed and then headed over to Jubilee's cousin's house to rent a food truck just like in the movie. In the meantime, Charles and the other teachers were supposed to be setting up game booths like a real fair. Jubilee's cousin's house wasn't that far but the main problem was trying to get the food truck to the mansion.

"Well, I think we didn't think things through.."-said Jean with his usual pessimism

"What the hell do we do now?"-Said Jubilee

"Don't worry, I'll call Peter, he can bring his car and we'll hitch the truck from behind"

I dialed Pet's number and as always he didn't take long to answer, he was a real sprinter for everything.

"Hey babe, what's up?

"Hi honey, I think we need help with a little matter."

"Aww, do you need me so fast?"

I could feel Peter smile through the phone

"Just this once, I need you to bring your car"

After giving him the address of the house, I barely hung up the phone when we heard the noise of an engine purring behind us and Peter honking with that smirk he always wore. Damn that's how he drove the streets? How unconscious.

"Peter to rescue, uh? What do you need now?"-he said as he got out of the car

"We need you to take this food truck to the mansion, please, will you?"-Jean said

Quicksilver looked surprised at the food truck and whistled but then he chuckled and said

"That's a piece of cake, count me in ladies"

The boy was about to run towards the truck when Jean stopped him with a wave of her hand.

"But! like a normal person would, no super speed"

"How boring.."

Peter made a disgusted face but then he helped us with everything we needed, he started his car. Peter and I were in the lead with the food truck hitched to the back and the girls following closely behind us in Jubilee's car.

It was obvious that Peter was making great efforts not to exceed the speed. It's just that Peter loved his superpower so much that he used it whenever he could and if he didn't, he was terribly bored. Along the way Peter was trying to figure out what we had bought by looking sideways at the bags on my lap but I didn't give him a chance to guess.

"Come on babe let me see what it is"-He said as he put an arm around my shoulder.

"I'm sorry, it's a surprise"-I said leaning on his shoulder

"And wouldn't you do it for a pretty boy like me?"

Peter kept taking quick glances at the bags but without losing concentration on the way.

"Bold of you to say you're pretty"

Maximoff did not resist and tried to put the hand that was around my shoulder into the bag that rested on my lap.

"No, Peter stop! You act like a child!"-I said annoying

I quickly pulled Pet's hand out of the bags and held it tightly between my legs, which was a bad idea because Peter gave me one of his typical smirks and began to gently caress his fingertips along my thighs that were discovered by the skirt that I was wearing

"Peter.."-I said in a warning tone

"You were right, this is more fun"

The sprinter moved closer to my crotch under my skirt and I had to squeeze his arm hard as he let out a contained growl. With all the peace of mind in the world with his free hand Peter now caressed the inner part of both my thighs while with the other hand resting on the steering wheel he drove the car

"I hate you"-I said controlling my gasps

"I know"

We were finally getting to the mansion so Peter stopped the torture but I was still blushing. We both got out of the car while the girls did the same and we unloaded the food truck in the school yard. The teachers worked in the stands assembling wooden stands and painting them. He could see that some were excited and others like Logan would rather sleep on a train track than do all that. I grabbed the bags before Peter knew it and ran with the other girls to our rooms to change.

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

Everything was almost finished, from the windows you could see the patio of the mansion full of game stalls like in fairs. It was impressive how they had finished everything so quickly but then I remembered that they had the great help of Quicksilver. Rogue and I were putting on our clothes. Anna had bought a pretty light blue dress with big white polka dots and she wore her hair loose and wavy with a light blue bow headband decorating her head. For my part, I had put on the black leather leggings with the black off-the-shoulder blouse and had curled my hair. I did a fancy spin in front of the mirror to which Rogue excitedly told me.

"My God y/n you are beautiful! You look like the real Sandy!!"

"And you are divine too!"

Anne was about to answer me when there was a knock on the door.

"If it's Peter I'll kill him"

I went to open the door and when I did my eyes widened in surprise. Stalls were Jean and Jubilee. The first one was wearing skinny jeans with the sleeve rolled up a bit to reach her calf and was wearing a white halter top with straps that tied at the neck and was white with small red polka dots. On the other hand, Jubilee wore a beautiful white skirt with red polka dots, the same one she had chosen in the store along with the leather jacket and also a red shirt tied with a bow in front at the navel. Jean wore a curly high ponytail and Jubilee had her hair loose and wavy like Anna.

"Wow.."

Anna who came behind me smiled broadly.

"The girls are beautiful, and you were right Jean, a dress would not have fit you as well as those pants"

"And with those hips that you have you will attract all eyes"-said Jubilee laughing as she bumped her hips against Jean's.

Jean pretended to be angry but couldn't suppress a giggle.

"Well girls, what do you think if we go to the yard to have a good time?"-I said

We all went out to the garden while I carried a basket with clothes in case someone wanted to dress and didn't have the right clothes. When we got out I could really appreciate what a wonderful job everyone had done. Each booth was identical to the one in the movie, they had even managed to recreate the "Shake Shack" where the protagonists dance at the end.

The girls went to order ice cream while I walked towards an arcade. Luckily I was wearing red heels with a wide and thick heel that allowed me to walk on the grass without ending up with the tip of the heel buried in the ground. Henry was manning the booth, I just had to knock over a stack of cans with a ping pong ball.

"Hey y/n, Do you want to try your luck?"

"Give me that ball now"-I said smiling confident

But when I was aiming to throw the ping pong ball I felt that someone had stopped next to me accompanied by a buzz. I was about to make a sarcastic comment about Peter as I turned my head to look at him but when I did the ball almost fell out of my hands. Peter was wearing a white T-shirt with a black leather jacket and matching black pants, plus he had combed back (but no gel) that silver hair he always wore tousled. I didn't even try to suppress a smile, let alone the laughter that flowed from my lips.

"What's up John Travolta"-I said non-stop laughing

"Hey, I don't look so bad and you know it"-he said a little offended as he ran a hand through his hair

I hated to admit it but Peter was right, he looked so sexy in those clothes and I loved it when he ran his hand through his hair like that, but I would never say it out loud to him.

Without answering, I got ready to throw the cans. I usually didn't have a bad aim but that day it seemed like I had forgotten all skill, and to top it off, every time I missed a shot Peter booed me like he was on a soccer field.

"Can you stop doing that?"-I turned to face him furiously

"Nope"

was his mature response while he smiled innocently but his eyes showed mischief

"Ok, try it, I want to see you"

Peter grabbed the ball confidently and started knocking over the cans at full speed.

"No, not like that! that's cheating!"

"Of course not"-he made a face of indignation

"Uhm, actually she's right, it's against the rules"

"Ha!"-I shot Peter a triumphant look.

"Oh c'mon! What kind of rule is that?"

"I'm sorry, rules are rules"-Henry said

"Fine, but if he won you owe me a favor"

I was about to complain but stopped myself, remembering how annoying Peter can be if we don't come to an agreement. He would chase me around the mansion making annoying noises like a 6 year old.

So I gave him my place and he settled in to throw the ball. Even though he wasn't using his superpower, he had a great aim and managed to knock down all the cans without much effort. Henry clapped while Peter strutted around to make me angry.

"The winner can claim his prize"

Henry pointed out the prizes that were there. A panda bear stuffed animal, a Nerf gun, a box of chocolates among other things. Peter was tempted to claim the toy gun but opted for the panda bear

I widened my eyes in surprise, thinking that Peter would choose something else.

"For you"

Maximoff gave me the panda bear that was fairly large, when he proposed it could become very romantic

"Thank you"-I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear flirtatiously

I hugged the teddy bear tenderly as I made my way to the ice cream truck with Peter. He bought a strawberry ice cream for him, he offered me one too but I kindly declined

"You know? I must admit that your idea was not that bad, at least there is free food"

Peter said as he sucked on his ice cream that was threatening to melt while I chuckled.

Hearing Peter admit that I was right was the most satisfying thing in the world. And of course I would not miss the opportunity to tease him.

"Oh sorry, what did you say? I don't think I heard you right"-I said as I placed my open palm near my ear feigning deafness.

"Don't make me say it again"-he frowned

"Or what?"-I smiled mischievously

Peter smiled too as he tipped his ice cream up to my nose. I backed away yelling his name angrily as we started an unequal fight in which Peter wanted to continue smearing his ice cream on my face and I, with one hand grabbing my stuffed animal, tried to push Peter away with the other hand.

"Ok ok I give up!"-I said laughing with Pet

Suddenly the song "You're the one that I want" began to play through a speaker and I gave a scream of emotion that scared Peter and he looked at me as if something bad happened to me.

"Peter, that's my favorite song come let's dance!!"

And without waiting for an answer, I quickly dragged Peter to where the music was playing, which caused him to spill the ice cream on the grass. The other students had also gathered to dance to the song, Jubilee and Rogue were dancing together while Jean had partnered with Scott. I placed the panda bear that Peter had given me on a basket and began to move my hips and feet to the rhythm of the music, letting myself go. I would throw my head back making my curls bounce and move my shoulders gracefully. Peter was gawking at me, it seemed my tight leggings worked. He was somewhat embarrassing to dance in public but he happily joined me. Peter came up behind me following my movements from side to side with his hands on my hips. I turned around so I could place my hand on his shoulders while I clasped my hands behind his neck and we began to move our shoulders forward and backward, accompanying the movements with our torso.

The music was blaring so I quickly trotted over to the "Shake shack" with Peter following behind. I went up the stairs and forced Peter to his knees and then nudged my shoe into his shoulder which left Peter scrambling like a dog as he came up the stairs with a goofy grin on his face. When he stood up and the machine began to move from side to side like a mechanical bull, I hung over Pet like a monkey wrapping my legs around his hips as he hugged my back. We danced back and forth while the others watched us clapping to the rhythm of the song. I looked into Peter's eyes and he did too but I could tell how sometimes he looked down at my waist. My pelvis was brushing against his lower belly and Peter was trying very hard not to blush.

We continued dancing normally until the song ended and we went down exhausted from the "Shake shack"

Now I was the one strutting around in front of Peter walking around like I was a model. Peter had just noticed my black outfit with my red heels and matching lipstick, I couldn't tell but he thought I had a delicious figure. The other students had dispersed from the garden and were playing in the fair stalls or eating, some bored or tired returned to school. I sat on a bench while Peter did the same next to me.

"Not bad up there, huh?"

I leaned an arm on the back of the bench while crossing my legs and staring at him with a smile

"Are you saying it for you or for me?"

Peter made a funny face trying to appear nonchalant, expelling air through the lips making them sound like a trumpet.

"I say it for myself, obviously"

"Well I didn't see that you did much to dance other than not stop looking at my hips. Did you know that my eyes are up?"

I loved making Peter nervous, it was like giving him a taste of his own medicine since he always did the same to me

"Uhmm, yes of course uhmm"-Peter's cheeks turned pink-"W-would you like to go somewhere else? I think there is nothing to do here anymore"

I knew him. When Peter stuttered it was because he wanted to do dirty things.

"Mmh sure, why not"

Peter's countenance was no longer so red and a bright smile graced his face. Immediately afterwards, he lifted me up in his arms and holding my head so as not to suffer a whiplash, he took me running away from there without anyone noticing. In the blink of an eye I was sitting in the back of Peter's car, an old Falcon that he cared for like a pet.

Before I could say anything Peter stole my breath with a passionate kiss. As our tongues swirled in a pitched battle inside our mouths, I clung to Peter's hair, which was more disheveled than before. Pet knew how to kiss me or where to touch. His hands were on the side of my body, high up near my bust.

"Wait...are you sure?"-I said catching my breath

I got a mischievous smile in response and in a second Peter was gone and back with a condom in hand. Peter's wet kisses on my neck made me feel like I was in paradise. It started in my jaw and worked its way down to my shoulders and collarbones.

I threw my head back in pure pleasure, closing my eyes, which Peter took the opportunity to leave kisses and bruises in the central part below my jaw. I moaned softly feeling his teeth softly biting my skin. Peter took off his jacket and left it on the floor of the car while I lay flat on the seat. The boy couldn't wait and began to unbutton his pants. Nervous I looked at him and stopped him

"What's wrong, babe?"-he looked at me concerned with his eyebrows raised

"It's just…it's my first time"

Peter seemed relieved and, smiling, leaned close to my face to whisper to me.

"It's ok, it will probably hurt at first but then it passes"

Peter's words and breath made me start to feel that heat rise up my crotch. In order to better control the thrusts, Peter offered to let him be below and I above him. He started to lower my leather leggin but not completely until he could visualize my entrance. I lowered Pet's boxer so I could put the condom on him, his member was already hard so the task was easier. He soothed me by rubbing my thighs tenderly, I took a deep breath and slowly sat on Peter's member. A sharp, tight pain emanated from my entrance causing me to close my eyes, wincing as I let out a small moan.

"You're doing good baby, keep it up"-said Peter to encourage me

I stayed still for a moment to try to get used to it, when I felt that the pain had passed, I began to go up and down at a slow but constant pace. Peter closed his eyes and tensed his jaw as his fingers dug into my thighs. Our breaths were quickening and a concert of moans was fogging up the windows. All the pain that I felt at the beginning had given way to a sensation of infinite pleasure that ran through my body and my belly like an electric current. I leaned a little closer to Peter's chest and put my hands under his white shirt. He understood and took it away. Dear God, Peter was often ashamed of his body but what he was seeing now was priceless. His pectorals and abdomen were marked like a Greek sculpture. Feverish, I stuck my fingers into his stomach and began to scratch gently while massaging. Peter let out a grunt of pleasure as he frantically raised his pelvis, increasing his thrusts.

I could already feel Peter's member fully hardened inside me while my walls were contracting.

"Fuck peter"-I gasped

"You are very tight"-he growled, making an effort to focus his eyes on me.

We were both practically sweating, I felt my hair stuck to my neck and nape. I increased the thrusts going at a faster pace to be able to reach the climax, and at the least expected moment I felt like a waterfall was released inside me. But Peter wasn't done with me so I kept swaying my hips until he said.

"I-I'm about to.. cum"-Peter's voice came out hoarse with excitement.

I was at the edge of my strength when I felt the warm liquid of Peter come out and fill me under me. I stopped moving and sat still on him while we caught our breath. I slowly withdrew from him as if his cock were made of glass and I was about to break it. I lay down next to him and squeezed until we both got inside. Pet hugged me lovingly as he caressed my back and I rested my head on his sweaty bare chest, I looked up to see him, he looked very sexy with his hair plastered to his face.

"Do you think the others will realize that we are not here?"-I asked suddenly

"Probably, it bothers you?"

"Not at all"

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weirdestbooks · 2 months

Text

A Civil Disagreement Chapter 3

The Second Compromise (Wattpad | Ao3)

Table of Contents | Prev | Next

1846

“Have you heard the new bill the House had just passed?” DC asked America as she walked into his office.

“If you’re talking about the Wilmot Proviso, trust me, I know. I’ve gotten an earful about it from the slave states.” America said, knowing that DC was probably talking about the bill that had been causing him a lot of trouble. DC nodded.

“How have the slave states taken it?” She asked. America snorted.

“How do you think? Badly.” Wisconsin snaked.

“They take most anti-slavery things that way,” Iowa said, sounding slightly annoyed.

“And the North takes pro-slavery things that way. Everyone is dramatic.” James pointed out.

“You know how they are. Stubborn as hell and untrusting of me to handle anything involving slavery. They’re too afraid the Wilmot Proviso will pass.” America said. DC nodded.

“I didn’t expect anything else. Why is Congress focusing on the Wilmot Proviso when we should be focusing on this war that’s been started with Mexico? No use in focusing on what might happen if we win if we don’t focus on trying to win.” DC said, pressing her hand to her forehead. America sighed.

“It’s not like Congress controls our soldiers. However, figuring out the answer to the question of slavery in any new land we acquire is important. Especially to the southern states.” he said.

“Fair enough. I’ll keep an eye on the Wilmot Proviso for you while you deal with state drama and the war with Mexico.” DC said. America smiled, ever so grateful for everything that DC did for him and for their nation.

“Thanks, Dee.”

————————————————————

1847

America loved receiving letters from his children, especially when they were at war. He loved reading about their lives, learning that they were okay, and learning about what they were up to and what they were experiencing.

He loved letters.

So when America got the letter from DC, he was quick to open and read it, excited to learn about what DC had been up to in the couple of months since the war had begun. But his heart sank as he read the letter. DC talked a little about her life, but she quickly got to the point of her letter. The fact that the Wilmot Proviso was back in Congress.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me. They brought it back? Again? During a war?” James groaned.

“Congress needs to get their priorities in line. We don’t need this during a war.” America muttered, eyes glancing around to make sure no one was nearby and able to hear him.

“Well, they aren’t stopping. Something needs to veto this bill so badly it doesn’t come back. Otherwise, the South is going to lose it, and we’re going to fight about it every year.” James commented. America groaned.

“That’ll be a headache. The debate about slavery is going to be my biggest headache for my entire time as a country. I bet they’ll still be fighting about where it is and isn’t allowed when I die.” America speculated.

“Hopefully not. All issues have to have a solution.” James said. America smiled at his comment.

“You sound so wise, someone could almost mistake you for a philosopher.”

“Maybe if I were, you’d listen to my advice a bit more,” James said, his tone both joking and fond. America rolled his eyes, rubbing at DC’s signature at the bottom of the letter, thinking about the fights that were certainly going on in Congress at the moment, “It’ll be alright, Neville. Focus on the war. Dee’s a smart girl, she’s got things handled.”

“I know, I know.” America said, tucking the letter away in a pocket, “It can’t be a problem forever. Thanks James.”

“It was my pleasure.”

———————————————

1848

America was happy when the Mexican War ended. California was alive, albeit very sick, and America had already penned a letter to Hawaiʻi, figuring that the country Unorganized Territory had adopted as family should be privy to the knowledge of her “niece.” It would be a good testing ground to see if Hawaiʻi could be trusted with the knowledge of the states.

“She’s too close to Britain. Don’t you remember what he did to Michigan?” James pointed out. America sighed.

“I know, I know. We can figure that out later. We have other things to worry about.” he said. America has far too much to worry about.

He had to worry about getting the Senate to approve the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, figuring out how he would use all the new land, organizing new territories, and creating new states—a short, manageable list of tasks. At least the Wilmot Proviso, the bill causing him so much trouble before the war, wasn’t around.

“Hello, Dad. They're trying to add the Wilmot Proviso to the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo,” DC said, walking into America’s office. America groaned, having spoken too soon, it seemed.

“Why? Why are they trying to add that troublesome document to the peace treaty.” James said. America could almost imagine the man’s face buried in his hands as he groaned.

“This is going to be an annoying Senate battle, isn’t it?” Unorganized Territory asked.

“Third time! Haven’t they accepted the fact that that bill is not going to pass?” America asked. DC shrugged.

“I guess not. They’re stubborn, just like the rest of us.” DC remarked.

“No matter how different Americans are, we will always be united by our ridiculous stubbornness,” Caleb said.

“How wonderful,” America muttered sarcastically.

“Yes, it is wonderful, especially now that you don't have to worry about a war and will be joining me in Congress,” DC said. America groaned.

“Let’s go then. I’ve missed being yelled at by Congress.” America said. DC raised an eyebrow.

“Really?” James asked skeptically, his voice being joined by DC’s as she asked the same question.

“We both know I’m being sarcastic,” America said as they left for the capital. They walked up the steps and headed for the Senate as America mentally prepared himself to deal with a bunch of arguing men.

“Well, at least it’s the Senate and not the states. We don’t have to break up fistfights here.” DC said. America laughed.

“Not yet, at least.” James joked.

“And I am incredibly thankful for that.” America said before walking into the Senate, “Why are we attempting to add a bill that has failed twice to our peace treaty with Mexico?”

————————————————

1850

“Alright, we have five separate bills created with the aim of getting you guys to calm down about the new territories and the fight over slavery. Mexican Cession will get her old name back and become the state of California, and we’ll be creating the Utah and New Mexico territories from the rest of the land we got from Mexico. Is anyone upset with that?” James asked as he reviewed the bills making up this compromise with the states.

Typically, America would take care of this, but as he wasn’t around, James was now in charge. It was his least favorite thing to do, and he didn’t understand how America did this day in and day out. Something about his country mind must have allowed him the endless patience he had with the government.

“I’m not. I’m glad I’ll be getting my old name back.” Mexican Cession—formerly known as the California Republic—said.

“What about slavery? Will it be allowed there or not?” Mississippi asked, crossing her arms.

“The people of the territories will vote for whether or not they want slavery,” DC said.

“That’s my favorite part.” Unorganized Territory said, “I think that’s the best way to get Congress to stop fighting about it.”

“I’m okay with that,” Arkansas said, the other slave states nodding in agreement. James sighed. That’s one problem out of the way.

“Next topic, which Texas already knows about. Texas is giving up his claims to some of the land that will be incorporated in New Mexico Territory and Unorganized Territory in exchange for America’s assumption of his public debt. And no, just because Texas gave up his land claims doesn’t mean you can claim it.” James said, deciding to cut into that argument before it truly began.

“Well, that’s not something I saw coming.” New York muttered. Texas shot him a glare.

“None of us really expected Texas to give up some of his land either,” Caleb said with a little laugh.

“I can cooperate with others, York. Besides, I’m still the biggest state in the Union.” Texas boasted. Mexican Cession rolled her eyes.

“Is that all you care about?” She asked. Texas remained silent.

“Moving on!” DC said with a clap of her hands, “The slave trade is now banned in my district.”

“Wait, what?” Vermont said, his statement being echoed by many other states.

“But you’re surrounded by slave states!” Tennessee protested.

“But she’s not a part of either of those states, so why does that part matter?” Warwick groaned, “I thought they were headaches as colonies, but they’re just worse now.”

“But I’m not a slave state. I’m not even a state. I can and will be different from Maryland and Virginia.” DC said, anger appearing in her voice as she spoke. James winced. DC had always been sensitive about her status as a district, as the other states could be a bit insensitive about it.

“Right…sorry.” Tennessee said before turning to James, “Is there anything else?”

“A New Fugitive Slave Act,” James said.

“What?” Vermont asked, narrowing his eyes.

“We already have one. Why are we making another?” Maine asked.

“Yeah, we don’t need another fugitive slave law!” Pennsylvania protested.

“I mean, the current one isn’t very effective.” Unorganized Territory pointed out.

“Yes, we do! You’ve been ignoring the first one!” Virginia argued back.

“Alright, I’m stopping this argument before it begins. This new fugitive slave law will penalize officials who did not arrest someone allegedly escaping from slavery, and they may have to pay a fine of $1,000. Law enforcement officials are required to arrest people suspected of escaping enslavement even if the only evidence is a claimant's sworn testimony of ownership.” James began before Wisconsin’s furious shout cut him off.

“That’s bullshit!” she said, “You need more proof than that…this…that’s ridiculous, James!”

“Con—” James started before Wisconsin cut him off.

“This is ridiculous. You’re just increasing Southern power!” He continued.

“Con.” James said firmly, “I know you might not like this, but we have to make sacrifices sometimes.”

Wisconsin scowled but nodded, still looking incredibly mad.

“Picking up from where James left off, habeas corpus will not be allowed in those cases, nor will a jury be allowed. The person accused of being a fugitive slave cannot testify.” DC continued.

“That’ll be helpful in tracking down our escaped slaves.” South Carolina remarked.

“Yeah, but getting rid of the jury? Are we sure that’s okay? We promised our people a jury in the constitution.” Delaware asked, looking nervous. As pro-slavery as he was, he was always anxious about going against promises in the Constitution.

“They aren’t citizens, Del. It’s fine,” Georgia said.

“I still think it’s bullshit. Even more so now.” Wisconsin said. James sighed.

“Con, please. I know many of you may not like this fugitive slave law, but we need it. We need a compromise.” James said. Wisconsin sighed.

“I know I won’t win this fight. I don’t like it, but I know how important compromises are nowadays.” Wisconsin said.

“Thank you, Wisconsin.” James said, “Any other objections?”

None of the states answered, and while the tension between the free and slave states had decreased, many of the free states were offended by the news of the new fugitive slave law.

America really needed this compromise. James only hoped it wouldn’t go wrong.

#countryhumans #statehumans #countryhumans america #a civil disagreement by weird #historical countryhumans #statehumans district of columbia

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calypsid · 10 months

Text

my personal writing-to-AO3 workflow

this is really long so here is a friendly cut

I write in Scrivener, so I am starting with rich text that is not in the Windows environment. any writing program that is not Microsoft Word is on the same level. why does this matter? because Windows pasting to browsers is deficient in that it does not preserve rich text formatting unless it comes from Word. why? I have no fucking clue. but it's good to know. so I start with this:

Destiny! I love to hate it. you will note two instances of italicized text. now, as I'm the laziest bastard who rolled over the earth, I don't want to hand-code those to drop in AO3's HTML editor. (I don't use the rich text editor because on preview, it runs through the text and applies HTML codes for you, and in certain circumstances that can break formatting, such as if you're using a texting workskin or other custom formatting. if that's not a problem for you, you probably don't need this post.)

so, it gets copy-pasted into Microsoft Word:

(I am aware that this could be the same screenshot. I promise it's not. I just write in Calibri.)

then I open the Find/Replace dialogue:

make sure your cursor is in the Find What: box. click the Format button on the bottom left:

select Font...

under Font Style, select Italic and hit "OK".

now I'm going to work the actual magic. the HTML code for italics is <i> or <em> (they're the same thing). that means that when a browser sees that code, it treats any text wrapped in that code as italicized.

I just have to tell Word to find the italicized text and wrap it in my HTML.

in the Replace With: field, paste this:

"^&" is the regex code for "the same text". so you're telling Word to find this text and replace it with itself and also the HTML.

looks like this. then hit "replace all". you're done.

copy the text from the word document and put it in the HTML posting box in AO3. that's all you have to do.

I've used a lot of words and probably made this sound like an ordeal, but I have the code memorized and I can do this in less than eight seconds. I'm not exaggerating.

you can do this with anything you can search for in that Font box: bold, strikethrough, etc. you can also do this with other formatting, but the codes for those are Word regex and it's not documented as well as regular regex. I'm willing to help! but those are the provisos.

hope this helps someone!

#calypsid #ao3

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deanwinchesterswitch · 2 years

Text

The Girlfriend Who Remade Christmas

Part Five: Let Me Show You

Square: Photographer AU (might be a bit of a stretch, but that’s what your imagination is for😊) ~ @spnchristmasbingo

Song: A Little Christmas - Ryland James

Pairing: Dean x Nicole {Nico/Nic} OFC

Summary: Dean receives a gift but isn’t pleased about the proviso… until he hears about the compensation.

Warnings: Flirting and more flirting; Implied sex (lots of it); Some angst was thrown in for good measure; Canon divergence

Word Count: 3,519

Beta: @princessmisery666. Thank you!!!!💗

Credit: The stunning title card and dividers were made by @talesmaniac89.

Series Master Post

Rolling onto his side, Dean contentedly hums, eyes landing on the bare shoulder of Nicole’s sleeping form. It’s the first time in a week that she hasn’t slipped from their bed before he woke. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he gently tugs her back against him. Chilly flesh brushes over his shins, and he yelps in surprise.

“Cold,” she mutters, shivering as she wriggles closer.

“I can feel that,” he chuckles. The room does feel colder than usual. As he debates whether to get up and check the furnace, the old ductwork groans to life. The outside temperature must have dropped overnight. He’ll adjust the thermostats later. Right now, he wants to snuggle with his girl and curls around her, “C’mere, I’ll warm you up,” hissing as he lets her slip her feet between his legs.

“S’rry,” she groggily slurs.

Chuckling, he kisses the back of her head. “It’s okay.”

As her body warms, the pattern of her breathing evens out, and he knows she’s fallen back to sleep. Yesterday had been busy and long. She’d made good on her promise to make it worth his wait, and it was well past midnight by the time he slipped from between her legs for the final time that night and fell onto the bed next to her, worn out and sated. He has no problem letting her sleep a little longer, especially when she’s snug in his arms.

He’s still kind of tired, too. The emotional rollercoaster of the previous day had taken a toll. It was great seeing his found family all together, but by the end of the day, the Christmas overload had him feeling like the Grinch Nic had accused him of being. Since they have no plans for today, he pulls the covers tighter around them, shifting down to nuzzle into her neck. The faint aromas of vanilla and cinnamon lingering on her skin, combined with the heady scent of sex, lull him back into blissful slumber.

The next time he wakes, she’s sprawled on top of him, a leg thrown over his hips, an arm draped across his chest, and her face pressed into his neck. “Comfy?” he asks, knowing she’s not asleep, her fingers drawing figure eights on his shoulder.

“Very,” she laughs, sliding fully on top of him while kissing along his jaw. Straddling his waist, she kisses his cheek, his forehead, and the tip of his nose.

“Well, good morning, gorgeous. Didn’t get enough last night?”

“Never enough…” she moans, wiggling against him, “of you.”

Cradling the back of her head, an arm around her lower back, Dean sits up before rolling them to the side until he’s hovering over her.

Nic pushes her fingers into his hair, interlacing them at the back of his head. Smiling coyly, she pulls him toward her. “Morning, handsome.”

It’s another hour before they leave the room to take a shower together. She can’t seem to get enough of him today, but he’s not gonna object. Close to another hour passes before they’re finally dressed and heading hand in hand toward the kitchen. Miracle happily trotting along in their wake.

“I’m starving,” she whines.

“I’ll bet you are,” he laughs, letting go of her hand to throw an arm over her shoulders and pull her against his side. “That was quite a workout this morning.”

She giggles, sliding an arm around his lower back and splaying a hand over his stomach. “Sorry.”

Dean tugs her hand from his stomach, bringing it to his lips to kiss her palm. “Hey, I wasn’t complaining.” Using her hand to pat his stomach, he grins down at her. “But, definitely worked up an appetite.”

“M&M cookies and fudge?”

“Can’t believe I’m gonna say this,” Dean shakes his head, “but I think we need something a little more substantial.”

Nic stops short, halting him with a hand on his chest. Squinting up at him, she slaps the back of her hand against his forehead.

“Ow! What the-”

“You feeling alright? Maybe we should get you back to bed.”

Growling, Dean bends to pick her up and flips her over his shoulder. “Woman, I need sustenance and coffee.” Miracle barks loudly, tail animatedly wagging, as Nic’s peal of laughter echoes through the hallway. She’s still laughing as he sets her down in the kitchen, ensuring she’s steady on her feet before releasing his hold.

Nic begins gathering ingredients as he starts a fresh pot of coffee. Pouring himself a cup before it’s even finished brewing, not caring that the first tentative reviving sips nearly scald his taste buds while he absently scratches between Miracle’s ears.

She turns, holding up a bottle of the good maple syrup and a bag of powdered sugar, when he steps up to her side and sets a steaming cup on the counter for her. “Hey, are there any unfrosted donuts left?”

“Yeah, a few. What are you thinking?”

“Maple glazed, topped with …” Dean immediately knows where she’s headed, and they exclaim together, “Bacon!”

Smiling proudly, he squeezes her waist. “A woman after my own heart.”

“I thought I already had it,” Nic pouts.

“You do, honey.” Kissing her forehead, he pulls her into a hug. “Every last piece of it.”

It was a mess of duct tape and glue when they first met, but the entirety of it belonged to Nic from the start. Whenever his heart lies damaged and shattered in his chest, she gathers up the fragments, patching and mending with vigilance and devotion. It had been a dark, horrific job at first, but with each fractured piece that was unfixable, she replaced the missing shards with pieces of hers until it was whole again. It terrified him that she would lose too much of herself, that it would destroy her. He worried that he would lose her and, in turn, lose himself.

It never happened, though. Every time she shone a light against the darkness of self-doubt and loathing, he mired himself in, fought the demons that forever plagued his mind, or pulled him from the depths of guilt and despair, she seemed to burn brighter, hotter—a beacon fire to guide him home.

It took him a long time, and honestly, there are still days filled with doubt, but he’s come to accept that she’s where she belongs, and it’s with him. If there’s one thing he can bank on in this crazy world, it’s her unwavering, stubborn commitment to keep moving forward. He’ll never understand why she bound her heart to his, but not one day goes by that he’s not grateful she did, especially now that they have a chance at a life together. Something a little more conventional.

So why am I having such a hard time accepting it?

Sam clears his throat as he enters the kitchen, stopping Dean from spiraling down a rabbit hole that keeps opening in his path. He kisses the top of Nic’s head and releases her, turning to see Stacey standing just behind his brother. Wriggling his eyebrows, he exclaims gleefully, “Morning, Sammy.”

“It’s S-”

Dean quickly cuts him off with a nod in Stacey’s direction. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Dean,” Stacey politely replies, moving to stand beside his brother, “Nicole.”

“Stacey! Glad to see you’re still with us.”

After Sam had given Stacey a tour of the bunker areas they commonly use—Dean had overheard Nic’s whispered suggestion to Sam that maybe they ease her into the knowledge of the more unconventional rooms—the four of them had sat in the library, sharing a bottle of whiskey, filling her in on all the things that go bump in the night. There was still a lot she didn’t know, but after the basics had been covered, Nic had excused them from the conversation.

“Food?” Nic whispers, tugging on Dean’s shirt.

“Right.” He claps his hands, rubbing them together. “You two lovebirds eaten yet? Food, I mean.”

Sam’s bitchface is epic, and Stacey blushes as she tries to hide her face in Sam’s arm. Nic snorts under her breath.

“I was just going to fix us something,” Sam stiffly replies.

Dean directs his attention to Stacey. “Let me guess. He offered to make an egg white omelet with kale?”

Stacey smiles and nods, slipping an arm around Sam’s, but Dean can see in her eyes that a tasteless pile of rubbery fluff stuffed with grass isn’t on her list of top menu selections.

“Right.” Dean shakes his head. “Okay, we’re gonna make you a proper breakfast. It won’t exactly be a fry-up, but close.”

She looks surprised. “You know what a full English breakfast is?”

“Sure do, but we ain’t got any of that blood sausage,” Nic does a whole body shiver, making him chuckle, “or baked beans.” Snatching a pan from the rack, he twirls it in his hand. “Coffee’s ready. Grab a cup and take a seat while the master works.”

At her very sweet request and a promise of a surprise afterward, Dean’s in the garage a couple of hours later, giving Nicole’s Jeep a tune-up. Music from his favorite radio station plays in the background, and he hums along to the Seger song, smiling as his thoughts wander again to the past couple of days.

Although he initially resisted and was upset that his kitchen would be crowded with people, spending time with his found family had been good for his soul. Good food, great company, and even Sam’s boozy eggnog didn’t taste half-bad. He had fun learning how to make donuts, only had to break up one fight between Claire and Alex, and was only mildly annoyed when Garth hugged him goodbye, but something still felt …off.

Talking to Nic had lifted some of the weight he’d been carrying. Maybe she was right when she said that admitting aloud how he felt may be the first step to understanding it. Nic and Sam had seemingly slipped into the new rhythm of their lives with minimal difficulty. His baby brother has a girlfriend and a chance at a normal life. Something he had always hoped would happen for Sam. While Sam's dorky, lovestruck expression during breakfast will be great fodder to use later, it made him happy to see it.

Nic has always been resilient. No matter how many times she gets knocked down, she manages to find a foothold that sets her off on a new course, usually dragging him along for the ride. He doesn't really mind. He'd literally follow her to Purgatory as long as they were together. But he'd always been comfortable in his own skin, sure of his place in the world, even if he sometimes hated where that was. Now he feels out of step, like he’s on a different playing field altogether, unable to find his footing to keep up with her.

The song ends, and sadly, it seems even the classic rock station is not immune to playing a holiday tune now and then, and as he clips the housing closed over the new air filter, the chords of a melancholy ballad fill the air. Closing the vehicle’s hood, he quickly makes his way over to turn off the radio before the carol can trigger an even bigger wave of doubt about his future and thoroughly pull him under. He needs to get a grip on his emotions. If Sam can find some Christmas spirit, he should be able to, too.

As if she has a tracking spell on him, Nic meets him at the doorway to the garage with a huge grin and a beer.

“Kind of early, isn’t it?” He’d been trying to cut back, no longer needing to drown out the nightmares and pain. It wasn’t that they had vanished entirely, but they weren’t a constant anymore.

“It’s after two,” she shrugs, “and you’re not driving anywhere.”

He leans in to kiss her, but her nose crinkles when his thumb traces her cheekbone, and she sniffs. “Eww.”

Dropping his hand, he pulls back, concerned, “What?”

Grabbing his wrist, she brings his hand up to inspect it. Oil and grime are wedged beneath his nails and cover his cuticles. “Normally,” she runs a hand up his arm and pushes up on her toes to nip at his earlobe and purrs, “I wouldn’t mind getting down and dirty with you, but I need you to go take a shower and then come to the library.”

“I thought we didn’t have any plans.”

She’s gone with a laugh before he even registers she’s left, hollering over her shoulder, “Don’t take too long.”

Less than thirty minutes later, he walks into the library, showered, shaved, and hair still damp. Sitting on the table is a stack of boxes wrapped in plain brown paper adorned with a single green bow. Nic is nowhere in sight. Skirting the table to get a closer look, he finds a simple white tag with his name and frowns.

If this is supposed to be a Secret Santa gift, it’s not much of a secret. He hadn’t even wanted to participate in the stupid game, but everyone had given him such a hard time that, under duress, he finally drew a name. He made it clear to everyone that whoever’s name was on the folded piece of paper would not be getting a present and insisted that he didn’t want a gift from whoever got his name. He didn’t need the added guilt of receiving a gift but not buying one. Fortunately, he’d drawn Nic’s name. At least she will understand why she hasn’t received a present once all the names are revealed.

Lifting the top package, he tests the weight of it, turning it over in his hand; it’s heavy. There’s not a lot of movement when he shakes it, and his curiosity finally gets the better of him. Tearing the paper away, he’s shocked by what’s revealed. If the image on the box is to be believed, it contains a digital camera, and he quickly opens the package to verify the contents. It is, indeed, a very expensive digital camera. Removing it from its inner wrapping, he opens the housing to find the battery already installed. Pressing the On button, the battery meter shows it's full, and he snaps a picture of Miracle lying on a cushion in the corner.

“It’s not a Secret Santa gift,” reading his mind—he tries to remember if he ever tested her for psychic abilities—she enters from the war room, “It’s not even a Christmas present. It’s simply a gift.”

“Good to know since it’s slightly over the $30 stipulated budget, and it’s not exactly a secret.” He holds up the tag containing her handwriting.

“You going to open the rest or just stare at ‘em?” She faces him across the table, rocking on her heels.

Suspicious of the reason for the gifts, he tears into the next one with cautious excitement. After opening the final box, he stares, stunned at the array of equipment laid out on the table—a wide angle, a standard, and a telephoto lens, a Speedlite flash, a filter kit, an extra battery and charger, several SD cards, a cleaning kit, a travel tripod, and a case to hold it all. It’s an amateur photographer’s wet dream come true.

“Why?” he breathes, placing the lens he’s been fiddling with back in its box.

“I want you to find him.”

“Find who? And what does all this-” Greeted with a teary-eyed smile, he inhales sharply. “Nico?”

“I want you to find the man I see every time I look at you.” The tremble in her voice is like a pickaxe chipping away at the ice encasing his heart. “The man that’s more than the labels forced upon him. The intrepid, courageous man who took down god to save a world where only a handful of people know what he sacrificed to ensure everyone lived. The ingenious man who created an EMF meter out of a Walkman. The man whose hands contain the strength to snap a phone in two but cradle my face in the gentlest of holds when he kisses me.”

She swipes a tear from her cheek, and he blinks away one of his own, swallowing down the lump forming in his throat as she strolls toward him.

“The intelligent, swift-thinking strategist who’s funny, mischievous, and kind. The man that fought through the darkness to shine a light and love on all that welcome it.”

Her hand is pressed over his heart, and he can’t contain the tear that slips down his cheek at the flood of emotion for the woman standing before him.

“The man with a heart bigger than Texas.”

Said heart is hammering like it’s going to crack open his ribs. He grips her shoulders and stutters, “I- I don’t know if I can.”

Heat radiates from her palm as she puts more weight behind it, “You can,” fingers curl into his shirt, as she thumbs away his tears with her other hand, “we can.” Winking with a cheeky grin, she adds, “I have a plan.”

A firestorm of hope. It’s the only way to describe her. His chest heaves, and he chokes out around a half-sob, half-laugh, “Of course, you do.” Tugging, he locks her in his embrace, resting his cheek on the top of her head, tears of gratitude seeping into her hair.

A couple of minutes pass, and she squirms against him. “Can’t …breath.”

Dean sniffs, chuckling as he loosens his hold. Immediately sliding her arms around his neck, she pulls him down into a hug of her own, whispering in his ear. “I love you so much. I just want you to see your potential and find a path that fulfills you.”

Taking a step back after giving her a quick squeeze, he scrubs a hand down his face and clears his throat, trying to regain some composure.”Okay. Let’s hear it.”

Nic squeals, clapping her hands as she bounces in place. He arches a brow in caution, “I said I’d listen. I didn’t agree to anything.”

“You’re right.” Bobbing her head, she uses the hem of her flannel to wipe her face, moving closer to the table. “I’ll lay it out for you. We’re taking a road trip, going on a quest, as it were.” Walking her fingers across the tabletop, she picks up the camera. “We’re going to pretend that we’re in an alternate universe. I’ve hired you as my photographer. We’ll be documenting the mundane to the extraordinary in our search,” bringing the viewfinder to her eye, she snaps a picture of him, “for the elusive enigma …Dean Winchester.”

“Seriously?” he grunts, and this time she arches a brow in warning. Raising his hands in surrender, he bows his head, “Continue.”

“Let me show you the world out there waiting for you. The one filled with beauty, hope, and light. The one that you rarely got to see. In return, I want you to show me-“

“Oh, I can show you the world, baby,” he snarks, wiggling his eyebrows at her, but she ignores the punny innuendo.

“-your perspective of the world.”

Bewilderedly gawking at her, he asks, “And how am I supposed to do that?”

“Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to take at least twenty pictures per day.”

“TWENTY?” He breezes over the reference.

“It’s not that many, and hey, I don’t care if every picture you take is of a rock. At the end of the day, I want to see at least twenty images of whatever you find interesting. Whatever speaks to your heart or sparks joy.”

“So what, now you’re Marie K-“ The lip bite and snicker cut him off, and he shakes his head in amused disgust. “Nice setup.” The giggle bursts from her, and though he tries to keep it inside, a laugh rolls out from his chest in response.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it. I was concerned after you ignored the whole Mission Impossible lead.” Setting the camera on the table, she takes one of his hands in hers. “Seriously, though, remember what I mentioned before? About making new memories? This is a way for us to do that: you, me, sun, fun, and relaxation. Let me show you what you sacrificed your life over and over again for. It’s time you enjoyed it.”

“I guess,” he huffs. “But-” he raps his knuckles on the table as he looks over to Miracle.

“But nothing. Sam and Stacey will take care of Miracle and hold down the fort.” At the mention of his name, the terrier mix lifts his head and barks, seemingly in agreement. “See, even he agrees,” she laughs. “C’mon,” she coaxes. “There are more than enough hunters to cover any cases that might pop up. We don’t have anything else going on. What do you say, handsome? You, me, and the open road?”

“What if I say no?”

“Oh, did I forget to mention the pay? It’s good food, lots of alcohol, a road trip, and, as a bonus, unlimited sex …with me.”

“Let’s go, gorgeous!”

Love Me Some Pie tag list:

@akshi8278 // @asgoodasdancingqueen // @calaofnoldor // @compresshischest09 // @deaneverafter // @deans-spinster-witch // @deanwanddamons // @flamencodiva // @idreamofplaid // @jerkbitchidjitassbutt // @justrealizedimmascifygurl // @ladysparkles78 // @michellethetvaddict // @mvdeanw // @shawnie74 // @thinkinghardhardlythinking // @thoughts-and-funnies // @waynes-multiverse // @wayward-and-worn // @waywardbaby // @weepingwillowphoenix

#spnchristmasbingo #photographer au #tgwrc: part five #010523

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