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rae-g · 4 years ago

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Dire Need of a Change: Spring 6 - Curiouser and Curiouser

I’m never going to get used to waking up this early, am I? You spent the first part of the morning as you normally do; rinsing off in the shower, finding something easy to eat, getting dressed. As you begin lacing up your boots, you hear a knock at your door. You quickly glance over to your door, wondering who would dare to have the audacity to knock on your door at any point during the day, much less at 6am. You wait a few moments, hoping it was just your imagination, but another round of -knock- -knock- -knock- ruined that fantasy.

Standing up, you make your way to the door and open it to find a short, portly woman standing before you. She wore a large cinnamon-colored braid in her hair, and an outfit of red and green.

“Uh… Hi?” You look at the woman, confused.

“Hello!” She smiled, and her eyes bright.

MEW

You looked down, spotting a small orange cat in her arms. You looked back up at the woman and raised an eyebrow.

“You’re the new farmer, right? I’m Marnie. I live at the ranch just south of your farm.”

“Uh, yeah. Hi, nice to meet you.” You continue to stand in the doorway, each moment becoming more and more bizarre.

Marine nervously chuckled, a soft and warm laugh coming from someone. “Well, I was out foraging in the clearing next to my ranch, and I found this,” she looked down at the cat, then back up at you, “sitting outside the entrance to your farm! I think it’s a stray… poor thing.”

“Oh.” You look back down at the cat, and carefully put out your hand, allowing it to sniff you. The cat sniffed your fingers for a few moments, then headbutted your hand. You smiled and started scratching it’s head.

“Well, if it isn’t too much to ask… Don’t you think this farm could use a good barn cat? I know we don’t really know each other, but it does seem to like you, and I’d hate for this little friend to be all alone.”

You look down at the little furry friend who has already begun purring. You gave a small smile and nodded. “Well… I don’t currently have a barn… But, it would be nice to have someone to watch TV with.”

Marnie’s face beamed as she carefully set down the cat. “How wonderful! I’m sure it’ll be so happy here.” She smiled softly, “You know about the upcoming Egg Festival, right?”

You kneeled and continued petting your small new friend. You looked up at Marine, “I don’t, actually.”

Marine grinned. “Well, it’s something we do every spring. I’m not sure if you currently have any chickens, but even if you don’t, we’d love for you to come. The whole town joins in and we have so many different dishes that people make. My nephew works hard all year prepping the chickens for the festival, and it’s always so much fun.”

You stand back up and brush your knees off. “Well, I think that could be fun. I’ll have to think about it. I’m not much of a cook, but it’s hard to say no to free food.”

Marnie beamed once more. “Well, I have to get back to the ranch before the shop opens. If you’re ever looking for animal care, please feel free to swing by!”

The two of you shook hands, and Marnie made her way towards the town. You looked down at your new responsibility and smirked. “Well… guess I’ll have to pick up some cat food for you later.”

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You spent most of the day continuing the monumental task of de-weeding your farm. There were still boulders, trees, rocks, and branches littered everywhere, but at least you were able to clear out a little more land. You began to think about what Marine had said. Chickens… Hmmm…You hadn’t even thought about having animals on your farm. The only buildings that seemed to stand the test of time at all were the main cabin, and the green house, but even those were in extremely rough shape.

You crossed your arms as you looked at everything. It was all going to be such a project. You shoulders slumped as every glance just added a new project to the list. I need to repair the green house. Clear out more trees and boulders. Get the oven working, and probably expand the house. Plus, if I want any buildings put up...You sighed. It was like a never-ending list.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you picked up your watering can and filled it up. You made your way over to your plants. The potatoes and beans were growing nicely, but it was the flash of yellow that truly caught your eyes. You bent down and moved some dirt, and gently tugged on the stem of the parsnip. It came up easily. Your eyes lit up as you stared at the little vegetable. A little on the small side, but it was definitely a parsnip. After dunking it in the watering can, you took a small bite.

“Oh! It’s sweet!” You took a few more bites, and before you knew it the entire vegetable was gone. You savored the taste of the fresh vegetable in your mouth. It was as if someone had sprinkled a carrot with sugar. You looked at the rest of the row and saw more flashes of yellow. “I… I have my first harvest.”

You smiled and began pulling up the small vegetables, inspecting each carefully before moving on. At the end, you had about nine. After watering the rest of your crops, you brought the parsnips inside and began rinsing them off. You picked out the best of the batch and looked around for a small basket or box. Grabbing one of the cardboard Joja boxes from your move, you placed them carefully inside and made your way towards Pierre’s.

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*ding*

The little shop bell alerted Pierre to your presence. He turned around and looked at you, “Ah! My favorite farmer. How can I help you out today?”

You walked up to the counter and smiled. “Yeah. I. Uh. Have some crops to sell?”

Pierre grinned, “Wonderful! Show me what you have!”

You placed the box on the ground and pulled out five freshly washed Parsnips. “It’s not much…”

“It’s fantastic! I mean, they are a little on the small side, but they look and smell delicious. Let me do some calculations and see what I can offer.”

After taking a few moments to talk shop, the two of you decided to swap your small harvest for some more seeds, but only after Pierre assured that you would be able to get at least a few more parsnip harvests this season. You placed the seeds in the box and smiled. It’s really happening. I grew vegetables and sold them. I’m really a farmer. The two of you eventually said your good-byes, but not before he told you all about the new rucksacks he would have arriving in the next few days.

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You spent the rest of the day getting your new seeds neatly sowed in two little rows, and finishing up some smaller tasks, before eventually making your way back into the house. Today would be game 4 of the Gridball season. The Tunnelers weren’t playing, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy the game. You washed up and changed, then made your way over to the bar.

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As you made your way to your seat, you spotted a familiar looking blue jacket. You sat down and flagged over the bartender.

“Hey.”

“Hey back,” you said, giving a small smile.

“Didn’t see you yesterday.” Shane took a swig of his beer, keeping his eyes on the TV screen.

“Didn’t realize you’d miss me.” The waitress came over, and you ordered a hard cider.

Shane coughed slightly, and turned away. After a moment, he turned back to the screen, his body facing you slightly more than it was a moment ago. “I don’t know, missed is a very strong word.” He smirked, and continued sipping on his drink.

You raised your eyebrow and grinned. You turned your attention back to the Gridball game, sipping on your drink. “I sold my first batch of crops today.” You said, continuing to stare at the screen.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Not much. Just a few parsnips.”

“Ah.” He took another sip of his drink, also watching the screen. “Joja has me on overtime this week. The other stocker called out sick, so it’s just me.”

“Laaaaaaame.”

“Yeah. But it’s fine. I’m not going to complain about more beer money.”

You raise your drink towards him, “I can drink to that. That is one of the rough parts about being self-employed. No days off. I don’t work my ass off, I don’t get any money.”

The two of you continued to banter back and forth for the rest of the night, only half paying attention to the game. Mostly the conversion centered around work, Joja, and favorite drinks. Eventually the barkeep called for the last round of drinks. The two of you finished off one more round of beers before heading outside of the saloon.

Taking a few steps out of the door way, you stretched and looked up at the sky. Your eyes widened, and you took a shallow breath. Shane walked over to you, a nervous look on his face, “Everything okay?”

You continued to look up into the night sky, “Its.. its just been awhile since I’ve actually seen stars.”

Shane looked up, “Ah. I get it. I remember when I first moved out here. Hard to see the stars with all the light in the city.” You nodded, then looked over at him. You couldn’t help but feel your cheeks warm as you watched him gaze at the stars. Eventually he glanced over at you, then coughed into his hand. “Anyway. I shouldn’t keep you.” He glanced around for a moment, “you’ll… you planning on swinging by the saloon tomorrow night?”

You nodded. “Probably. Once I get done with all my chores.”

Shane nodded. “Well.. Until then, I suppose.” But instead of leaving, he seemed to linger for a few moments.

“I look forward to it.” You smiled.

Shane reached up and rubbed the back of his head, looking away. “Uh. Yeah. See ya.”

You watched as he walked off.

“Hmm.. Curious,” you mused to yourself, before heading back home.

#Stardew Valley #Shane x Reader / Player #Slow Burn #Slow Build #Slow Romance #Depression #Alcohol Abuse #Anxiety #Dire Need of a Change

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atths--twice · 4 years ago

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The Pregnancy Series 1/6

Contentment

And so begins the next chapter of their lives. The “what happens next” portion of the end of the series and of Soulmates (which I recommend you check out and of which I have recently posted). A season 12 of sorts, but no more X-Files, no more monsters in the dark, no more conspiracies. This is the life they deserve after all the shit they have been through- happy, together, a baby on the way that will not be taken, hunted, or need to be given up.

I NEVER planned to fall into family stories for any reason. Seriously, it was not even on my radar. I had so many other stories to tackle and a baby story was not one I was super interested in working on. Then a tweet was posted about it being Father’s Day and Scully would be so far along and how Mulder would he be talking to her belly and well... I was gone.

I wrote this one and thought I was done, but no. I went on to write over 30 more, so get ready... :)

_________________

Mulder and Scully, together once again, content and cuddling in the Unremarkable House.

(Oh, and we obviously don’t have any pregnant photos from the revival, sooooo.... )

June 2018

Mulder sat on the front porch, his feet up on the railing, as he leaned back, enjoying the breeze of the summer day. It had not been too hot, for which he was grateful. It had been warm the last couple days, but today was good. Today was good.

Scully was inside making a late lunch/early dinner. Now that they were not working at the FBI anymore, they were home more. Scully had been back at the hospital for almost two months. Mulder was still thinking of what he wanted to do with his time. He had been writing, but he was not completely devoted to it yet. It helped him though, helped with all they had gone through.

He was content for now. Content being home with Scully. Watching her body change as her pregnancy progressed. Being there for every step of it this time. Holding her hand while they heard the heartbeat for the first time. Him crying and falling to his knees. She had murmured to him that it was okay, they were okay.

He scrubbed a hand down his face and closed his eyes. He still did not know how this baby came to be. Well, he thought with a smile, he knew how, because he had been there and it had been amazing. Both times. And every time since.

But this pregnancy, five months in and he still was stumped. Years of no discussion, no thought, no consideration of it and they were never expecting. Then they had a discussion in a hotel room, a roundabout discussion about their lives, their hopes, and what they had wanted. Then, he thought smiling, then she had kissed him. Kissed him like she had for years, full of love and promise.

He had rolled her on her back and looked at her until she smiled, giving him the green light. He took care of her first, he owed her that. Owed her his time and devotion. She broke quickly, calling his name, and holding tightly to his hair. She had been breathing hard, whispering his name, as he kissed her and joined their bodies. It was fast, but wonderful.

He got up and stepped over to the screen door and looked in at her. She had music on, though he could not place it. She was swaying to it as she made whatever she was working on. His heart swelled watching her. At the way her body was already changing. The extra weight, the shape of her body. He loved her so much, he would do anything to make her happy. He knew that beyond anything else. She was more important to him than anyone had ever been.

He sighed and sat back down in his chair, feeling the wind blow, closing his eyes. He needed to relax, will his body to calm down, his mind to stop racing, to not start thinking beyond what was happening in the here and now.

“Hey,” she said through the door, then pushed it open. She walked over to him and touched his arm. His eyes flew open and she smiled. “You hungry? Ready to eat?” She ran her fingers across his arm, tickling him, her smile widening. Her other hand was on her belly. The swell of her made him smile.

He pushed himself up and grabbed her hand, heading inside. She laughed and followed behind, squeezing his hand.

She had made a salad and chicken breasts for them. Something healthy for them and for the baby. She was determined to be better with her eating habits of late.

“This looks great,” he said, as he sat down and took a big bite of chicken. “I’m even going to eat the salad.” He said with a wink and a smile. “But, do we have any beer? It will make the salad taste better, I think.”

She laughed as he got up to see if there was beer in the fridge. She heard the bottle open and knew he had found at least one. He winked at her again as he sat back down. She smiled at him and grabbed her knife and fork. It was quiet for a bit as they both ate their food.

Mulder looked at her as he took a drink of his beer. “How are you feeling, Scully? You okay?” He stared at her looking for any sign that she was sad or feeling sick.

“Mulder, you’ve asked me that at least three times today. Every time, I’ve told you I’m fine. Do I not look fine to you?” she asked as she stared back at him, eyebrows raised, a small smile on her face.

“That’s not a fair question, Scully. If I say no, it implies I don’t think you’re fine- which I absolutely do,” he said with an eyebrow waggle, while she rolled her eyes. “But if I say yes, it implies I’m not actually sincere in my questioning. So..how are you?” He smiled and waited.

She sighed and folded her hands in her lap. “I was a little sick this morning, as you know. I’m a little tired, but other than that I am okay.” She gave him a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. He reached for her hand and she took it. He threaded his fingers with her and squeezed.

“How about if we watch a movie after we eat? You pick, and I’ll clean up. Any movie you want to watch. Yes, even Steel Magnolias.” She chuckled and squeezed his hand back. She nodded and let go of his hand so they could finish their food.

He took their plates to the sink as she picked out a movie. He was washing the dishes when he heard the music of the movie she picked and he smiled. Mystery Men. He liked this movie and she tolerated it. Of course she would pick something he would like. As he set the dishes in the rack, he looked over at her as she sat on the couch and rubbed her belly. He loved watching her do that almost as much as he loved doing it to her.

He hurried his cleaning so he could go sit with her and touch her belly. Hopefully the baby would be awake tonight so he could feel it moving again. The first time it happened, it scared the shit out of him. They had been lying on the couch spooning, his hand on her belly when he felt it move. He pulled his hand back and shouted. She had laughed and put his hand back. For twenty minutes, he had felt the wave like feeling of his baby moving around inside her. He had cried into her neck as she turned to him and held him.

He joined her on the couch, lying down, put a pillow on her thighs, and put his head down, facing her belly. She smiled down at him, while she stroked his hair. The late afternoon sun was coming through the windows and his face looked beautiful in this light. He pressed a kiss to her belly and started mumbling into it, his lips warm against her shirt.

“Do you want me to turn the movie on? Or do you want to just speak to my stomach?” She scratched her nails into his scalp and his eyes closed. He loved when she did that, it felt so good. He put his head back and looked at her.

“Scully, I read in one of the numerous books I ordered, it is important for the baby to hear our voices. He, or she, hears yours all the time, but I don’t get unlimited belly time. So, I have to use my time wisely. Tonight I’m telling him or her, about the Mothmen in Florida. About how we were hunted down and built a kickass ladder tower of dead bodies. So, if you’ll excuse us.” He put his mouth against her stomach again and started talking.

She leaned her head back against the back of the couch and smiled. She muted the television and instead listened to him tell their baby about a trip in the woods that had almost killed them. Well, another trip in the woods, as there had been many. But she could hear him telling this little miracle about how brave she had been, how she tried to light a fire with gunpowder-really smart your mom, how she had held him, kept him warm, when he was hurt.

She ran her fingers through his hair over and over, reveling in the feel of it. So soft and so familiar. She had missed him so much. Had missed nights like this, lying on the couch and watching movies. Now, his attention was on her and the life growing inside her. She loved him so much, her heart ached with love every time he laid like this and talked to their child.

She raised her head and looked down at him. He was talking about how she had sung him a song and it had been the most beautiful singing he had ever heard, when the baby moved, right against his mouth. He pulled back stunned and Scully laughed and laughed at his expression.

“Oh Mulder, I think either he or she is telling you to shut up, or calling you the liar that you are. Remember, I am with him or her all the time. My singing has been heard.” She laughed again and he put his mouth back against her.

“Don’t listen to her little bean, her voice is beautiful, because it’s hers. I love everything about her and her singing voice is part of the package.” He put his hand on her belly, moving it around, trying to feel the movement again. “She didn’t have to sing, but I asked her to and she did. That’s how it works with us, my bean. We ask of each other and we oblige. It’s a partnership. Give and take, push and pull.” He put his head back and looked at Scully. She smiled at him and stroked his face.

“I got incredibly lucky when they sent your mama to me, little bean. They thought she would be my undoing, but she was what I needed. She was my saving grace. I don’t tell her that enough, but it’s the truth.” He was telling the baby but looking at Scully. Her eyes filled with tears, but he was not done. “I almost lost her, my sweet bean. I was so close. I made some bad mistakes and I almost lost the one person I love most in this world.” He was still stroking her belly, staring in her eyes. Her tears spilled over and ran down her face.

“But, we found our way back,” his voice was lower now, the one that gives her the shivers. “We fought through the bad and the darkness to find the light again. You are part of that light, my sweet bean. You would not be here if we hadn’t fought like hell to get back to each other. I am so grateful for you. You are a testament of our love and our hope for the future." He put his mouth back on her stomach and she resumed stroking his hair. “We are going to have so many wonderful adventures. I can’t wait to experience them with you.” He kissed her belly and closed his eyes, his cheek resting against her.

As he lay there quietly, the baby moved again, right on his cheek. His eyes flew open and he looked up at her. She smiled, tear stains on her face. They both laughed at what appeared to be the baby giving him a kiss goodnight. He pressed his face against her and whispered goodnight.

The sun had set and it was the beautiful moment in the day, when the crickets and nighttime insects started their mating sounds. The males calling for their females. Mulder empathized with them tonight. He understood their hope and pain, he had felt in himself. But his female, his mate, his love, was there and his heart was happy, so very happy. They sat in the silence of the house, listening through the screen door. They began to breathe in unison.

Mulder shifted and sat up. He moved to the end of the couch, and reached for her. She went to him and laid her head on his shoulder, on her side. He shifted again, lying on his side wrapping his arms around her. He lifted his leg, allowing hers to slide between his. He pulled his leg up close to her hip, holding her close. One hand moved to her hair, the other low on her waist.

“Pretty soon we won’t be able to lie here like this,” she said as she nestled into his neck, smelling his scent and closing her eyes.

“What do you mean? Feels pretty cozy to me,” he said as he scratched her head with his fingers. She hummed and kissed his neck. He hummed back and pulled her closer.

“Right now, we fit perfectly with, as you call it, the bean between us. Give it a month..” She trailed off and he scoffed.

“Then we will just have to cuddle like this in bed. Problem solved.” He ran his hand up her back and she sighed.

“If we stay here too long, I’m going to fall asleep,” she said, her eyes already feeling heavy. His fingers in her hair was like a sleep aid. She felt so relaxed, content.

“Sleep then, Scully. Sleep.” He tightened his hold on her and brushed a kiss on her forehead. “I love you, my angelic songstress.”

He felt her laugh against his neck. “I love you too, you absolute liar.” He chuckled and kissed her again as she sighed and relaxed further into him.

The crickets sang and the summer air was warm. It created a peaceful atmosphere as all three inhabitants rested in a cocoon of love. Love created on the outside in the tangle of limbs, and love created on the inside. Swirling, growing, and preparing for the adventures her father would take her on.

#The X Files #XF Fanfic #Family Series #Post MSIV #Happy and Content #Pregnancy #Love and Adoration #The Unremarkable House is full of love once again

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trickstercheebs · 4 years ago

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"❥: barefoot, sleepy wanderings, ⌘: being picked up, #: shaky hands , ⌫: lullaby" Sick team!borrowers, and gordon trying to nervously wrangle them into sleeping it off and he has to bribe them with a lullaby

FUCK THIS TOOK AGES..i got pissed when i nuked the work I had so! Here we go round fucking two.

He wasn’t sure how the hell they all got the flu but once one went down they all quickly followed suit, he blamed the idea that they all kept so close to one another throughout the day and night. Living like that would make it damn near impossible to keep flu bugs from spreading like wildfire. And since he was the only one that hadn’t been sick he would have to be the one to treat them all.

“Guys...guys for fucks sake can you not run around while being so fucking sick? It’s only gonna make you all crash faster. Just stay in one place so I can maybe make you all feel better?”

“Don’t worry Gordon we’ll be all right as rain by nightfall I’m sure of it! This isn’t the first....the first time we’ve all been sick like this!”

“Thank you Coomer but I still would like to play it safe and get you guys some flu meds...I just, Bubby I swear to god don’t set the paper on fire please..!!”

“Fucking put me down first you giant Bitch! I did not live this long to be manhandled like a chicken being weighed for the slaughter!!”

“Bubby I’m just getting your weight and height that is all! OW, again with the biting..jesus fine fine I got your measurements goddamn....should of worn the work gloves for this I guess....”

It was supposed to take only five minutes to weigh and size them all, but of course doing anything with this tiny hellion group at all was a damn work of the devil to get done within a hours time alone. Benry and Tommy had behaved wonderfully for once....though he suspected Benry just wanted to be held for a few moments...Tommy was always a angel once he explained what he was doing, and now those two sat nearby the little notebook watching him scribble down Bubby’s measurements. They both looked so exhausted and flushed....it was almost cute if he didn’t know most if not all of them were burning with fever right now.

Coomer was cooperative thank god and after a manic run to the local CVS he came back with the right flu medicine....Though he did take a bit longer deciding on if he needed the childrens version or the actual adult version. No one told him how hard it would be trying to keep borrowers alive.

Or that fucking borrowers existed in the first place, that sort of thing would of helped him a long while back, but beggars couldn’t be choosers he thought to himself. The absolute hardest part of the whole ordeal came next, doing hard mathematical equations to see just how much each borrower should get that would not fucking kill them via overdose.

It took him...longer than he would admit but that was in part thanks to Tommy and Benry asking every so often from the small coffee table what some of the numbers correlated to now and then. He loved learning and honestly teaching and rambling came a close second to that, especially when others were actually fucking happy to hear him go on tangents about things like that.

Benry and Tommy both sat nearby, Coomer less so but he still stuck around to watch Gordon work, or sleep when not trying to find and calm Bubby down about “being manhandled by a huge fucking dumbass of a bean.” every now and again.

Once he was sure the equations were right, he had triple checked over his work frantically to make sure none of them would suffer for it, he had to actually pick them up to give the correct dosage.

His hands were shaking ungodly so as each damn near minuscule dosage was measured, it got so damned bad Tommy and Coomer came over to see if everything was alright and lend a hand, which he was so goddamned glad for honestly. One fuck up was all it could take was the mantra repeating in his head over and over as each borrower was given their dosage of meds, though he had to hold both Benry and Bubby in turn to take their damn shit. Coomer had to physically hold Bubbys mouth closed until he swallowed the ghastly shit to even get him to cooperate..

A hour or so had passed and no harmful signs had come up yet..he had periodically asked them how they felt before and after the medicine...nothing like doing clinical trials by fire to make him feel even more nervous about the whole ordeal.. But thankfully everything checked out...until he fucking realized he had given them the night medicine instead of the day one when they all started wandering about like drowsy kittens..

“Ah fuck...I guess that’s the sleep meds kicking in? C’mon guys lets get you all to bed...”

“But it’s....it’s daytime still and I feel fine Mr. Freeman..”

“I know that Tommy but taking naps is fine now, I’ll uh...I’ll uh even sing you guys asleep?”

“Bull.....shit I dont....I don’t want you to sing any-fuckin-thing...but..Maybe I can sit and make sure you don’t do anything...”

“Gordon I’m not tired! ......Okay maybe I might be a bit tired.”

“Bubby you can sit with Coomer alright? ..Wh-where’s Benry?”

“He was....maybe in the kitchen?”

Gordon paled...how the hell did he get in there so fast without him seeing? Maybe it was the damn teleporting...he still never saw Benry use it but they all insisted he could. Scooping the others up gently despite the exhausted words of protest he set them on the bed and got Sunny to watch them while he went to search for Benry.

“Benry? Benry where are you...I know you’re just as tired as the others....C’mon and take a nap with everyone else please?”

At first he didn’t hear anything....but listening quietly he finally heard the soft scuffle of little boots on some sort of surface.

“No, I wanted a snack...just go back and worry about them I’m a good cool I can....I can totally make it back bro. I got it...yeah.”

“Benry please..I don’t want you falling asleep somewhere dangerous..your powers might get affected by the cold you all have...Just don’t be stubborn this once please?”

“....mhng...you sound so cute like that bro...that’s totally fuckin not fair.”

“What? Benry come out I can barely hear you right now..”

There was a soft thunk behind him, making Gordon turn around to see Benry just...standing on the kitchen table like he had been just waiting for him to turn around...He clearly looked exhausted, barely being able to stand up on his own under the influence of the cold meds....Letting out a sigh of relief he moved to gently scoop the troublesome borrower up into his hands. Benry thankfully put up no fight, he even seemed to relax and sag into his hold the instant he made contact.

“Let’s get you all to bed okay? You can eat whatever you want when you get up how about? I’ll even cook if you all sleep the medicine off.”

“Bro...you for real about that? Heh, maybe being this sick isn’t a bad thing if you cook man...bet you cook better than mama.”

“Who? ....Oh my god, of course you’d somehow know about cooking mama...Sure, I’ll be better than mama just for you Benry.”

“Fuck yes. Best day like...fuckin ever.”

Gordon couldn’t see the starry look in the little borrowers eyes as he was carted off for sleep..Honestly he could of passed out right here in Gordons hands, they felt so soft and warm it was beginning to become a losing battle keeping his eyes open, he was thankful the trip to Gordons bedroom was alot shorter thanks to the lift.. The others were just as bad if not worse when he came back in, Sunny giving a soft boof of welcome.

“aw...they’re all almost conked out....Kinda cute really. Alright let’s get you all settled then.”

Working gently he grabbed a spare pillow and sat each of them on top with their own little blanket, making sure Bubby and Coomer were near one another so there wouldn’t be a damn fire scare.. Tommy and Benry watched him with exhaustion clear on their faces....waiting for something?

“Mr. Freeman don’t forget about the lullaby....you promised right? I want to see if you have sweet voice too.”

“Sweet....no I don’t think I can do that...but I can still sing sorta. Just don’t get your hopes up okay?”

Gordon felt silly honestly...singing a lullaby? He hadn’t done that in ages, not since he was asked to look after his new nephew Joshie a few years back... But if they wanted one.....well who was he to say no?

His voice was shakey at first...but the old lullaby was one his mother sang to him when he was little...As the words came back to him he became more emboldened and let his voice grow stronger. The two remaining borrowers that stayed awake were dragged willingly into sleep by his voice alone, both smiling happily as the lullaby reached its end.

Gordon, now feeling a bit groggy himself smiled at the little sleeping group and decided to try and nap himself in the living room for a bit.

“Goodnight guys...sleep well.”

#kibbits #cheebs writes #hlvrai #g/t #THERE now it has the right shit

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appalachianwiine · 4 years ago

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Swim - Chapter 1 - Tidal Wave

Tidal Wave

I found a tidal wave Begging to tear down the dawn Memories like bullets

They fired at me from a gun Cracking the armor yeah I swim for brighter days Despite of the absence of sun Choking on salt water I'm not giving in I'm not giving in I swim

- "Swim" by Jack's Mannequin

This wasn’t exactly what Daryl had in mind for their Saturday morning, instead of the swimming pool with his usually bubbly eight year old Lydia he was sitting in the pediatricians office. They’d been lucky to get in at all, Lori didn’t usually see patients on Saturdays, but she’d made an exception for them. Working with her ex husband paid off he supposed.

As Lydia swings her feet on the table, the oversized gown hanging limply off her shoulders and her stringy hair knotted in the back from falling asleep in her car seat on the way here his mind turns back to the bruises. How the hell had she gotten those bruises?

She’d come to him for her hair to be brushed after her shower last night when he saw it. An angry purple-green mark underneath the strap of her Little Mermaid nightgown. Fear twisted in him as he asked her to show him her torso, and he’d nearly been sick when he saw the rest of her torso. He was a cop, a very specific kind of cop, he worked almost exclusively with domestic violence victims. But he didn't want to scare her, so he swallowed hard and ask her if something had happened at school or at after school care. She said no. He pushed a little harder and she’d stuck her lower lip out of him and reminded him about her story, so he’d let her go get in bed and pick out a book, but as soon as she was asleep he’d called Lori. She’d told him to come in at 10am and they’d take a look.

“Hello Miss Lydia.” Lori’s chipper voice drug Daryl from his thoughts and back to the exam room. Her dark hair was up today and she looked tired - side effect of a teething baby he guesses. “And Daryl, nice to see you.”

“I don’t want shots.” Lydia pouts, her dark eyes narrowing at Lori. The last time they were here had been for her flu shot.

“Well no shots today.” Lori says, setting a clipboard down and getting a thermometer from the tray next to the bed. “So your daddy tells me you have some bruising.”

“Yeah.” Lydia says, letting Lori pop the thermometer underneath her tongue.

“Do you remember where you got them?” Lori asks. Lydia shakes her head. Lori turns her attention to Daryl. “Have you noticed anything but the bruising?”

“Um…” Daryl frowns, trying to think. “No not really. I mean she says nothing happened at school or anything, She’s in kind of a mood but we were supposed to go to the pool…”

“Okay.” Lori says. “Well, I’ll take a look and hopefully we’ll get this figured out.” She takes the thermometer from Lydia’s tongue and looks at the monitor, frowning slightly.

“Does she have a fever?” Daryl asks.

“Not really no.” Lori frowns. “I mean it’s a little higher but I don’t think I would consider it a fever yet.” She puts the thermometer back and turns her attention to Lydia. “Alright Miss Lydia, want to show me these bruises.”

“Okay…” Lydia frowns, sliding the gown off. They hadn’t gotten any better since last night, and hell the one on her side looked even worse. Lori runs her fingers over them gently.

“You don’t remember falling on the playground?” Lori asks. “Or maybe running into something while playing?”

“No ma’am.” Lydia says quietly. “I’m not lying I promise.”

“I know, I know.” Lori says. “Just sometimes we get hurt and we don’t remember until later.”

“Well I don’t remember.” Lydia insists.

“Okay, How about you get your clothes on and I’m gonna talk to your daddy outside.” Lori says.

“Okay. Right outside though?” Lydia frowns apprehensively.

“Right outside.” Lori promises, motioning Daryl to follow her outside the room. Daryl kisses Lydia’s head and steps out with Lori, not sure if being asked to step aside is a good thing or a bad thing just yet.

“She okay?” Daryl frowns, shutting the office door quietly.

“Yeah.” Lori says. “I just want her to have some blood work done and I know she’ll panic if I say anything with needles. So I’m telling you here.”

“Yeah that’s Lyd.” Daryl chuckles dryly. “What’s the bloodwork for?”

“Well it checks for lots of different things but I’m mostly going to be looking at her iron levels. The bruising could point to anemia, and if she has that we’ll get her on an iron supplement.” Lori says. “Does she eat a lot of meat? Spinach?”

“Never had trouble gettin’ her to eat nothin’.” Daryl says. “Doesn’ much care fer sprouts but she’ll eat jus’ bout everything else.”

“Good.” Lori says. “I’m going to expedite the bloodwork, we should have it back by tonight or tomorrow morning.”

“Thanks Lori, I know I’m probably overreacting, it's just - with her past…” He shakes his head.

“I know Daryl. I’m a parent. Rick and I were the same way about Carl, and Shane and I are the same way about Judith.” Lori reaches out and rubs his arm, offering a smile. “But you’re doing a great job, and I don’t think anyone is deliberately hurting your little girl. I just think she’s a rough and tumble kid who might have an iron deficiency.”

“Okay.” Daryl nods, a knot in his stomach releasing a little bit. Bloodwork wouldn’t be pleasant with Lydia but he was pretty sure he could bribe her with chicken nuggets if she got it done. “Thanks.”

“Of course, and we’re still on for tonight at Rick and Michonne’s?” Lori asks, glancing with a smile at the doorway as Lydia opens it and shuffles back out.

“Yeah, Lydia’s been talkin’ ‘bout that all week.” Daryl chuckles. “Should I bring something?”

“I don’t think so, bottle of wine maybe, but I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Knowing Rick there’s a rack of ribs and more beans than any group of people can - or should eat.” Lori chuckles.

“Can we go now daddy?” Lydia pouts, looking up at him.

“Well kiddo we gotta get some blood work done first okay?” Daryl says, ushering her down the hall. “Bye Lori, see ya tonight.”

“B-blood work?” Lydia frowns. “That’s a needle?”

“Yeah kid,” Daryl frowns. “But ya know what, you be real brave an’ we’ll go get McDonald’s okay?”

“I guess.” Lydia mutters, still sounding less than happy about the prospect of the needle.

The phlebotomist was a nice enough looking woman, dark hair, wide eyes and a bright smile as she told Lydia to climb in the chair and asked if she wanted a bear to hold. The look Lydia gave her was apparently enough to tell her that no she didn't want a bear, she didn’t want to be here right now.

“Wanna hold my hand?” Daryl offers, taking a seat next to the blood draw chair.

“Y-Yes please.” Lydia mutters, reaching out for his hand and closing her eyes, a whine already rising in her throat as the woman takes the alcohol swab to her arm. “Daddy.”

“I know, I know.” He whispers, sliding one hand up to her elbow and holding it down firmly as she starts to scream and wriggle.

“Daddy!” She shrieked, her face starting to turn red as the needle slid under her skin.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He whispers, “You’re doin’ great baby girl, You just gotta hold still.” She wriggled even more defiantly at that, but he held her arm steady so the needle wouldn’t dislodge. It seemed to take forever before the phlebotomist had what she needed and pulled the needle out. “There, you did it. I told ya you could.”

“I want to go!” Lydia’s breathing is rapid, her eyes wide and anxious. “I want to go!”

“We can, we can.” Daryl promises, kneeling in front of her and stroking her hair. “You gotta breathe sweetheart, just take a deep breath for me and breathe. Just breathe.”

Her fearful dark eyes focused on him and she took a deep breath, mouthing ‘one two three four five’ as she did. He watched her shoulder relax and then she leaned forward into his shoulder, still shaking and breathing. Bloodwork had always been traumatic for her. He wasn’t sure why - there was no telling why - but she’d had bigger fears to deal with in therapy. Her terror of the closet - so bad she wouldn’t even get her own clothes from there, the fact that she’d refused to sleep with the lights off, hell for 3 years even the sight of a swimming pool had caused a complete breakdown, it was only this summer that she’d actually started going in - and never over her head, she hardly left the baby pool at the community pool, and she had yet to completely submerge herself at het swim lessons.

“You’re okay baby girl.” He promises, hugging her tightly. “Lets get you some lunch okay?”

She nodded silently and let him pick her up and take her to the car, sniffling into his shoulder as he set her in her booster and buckled her in. He hoped to hell it wouldn’t color the rest of their day but he wouldn’t be surprised. Trauma was a fickle mistress, but it was over, and soon enough they’d know if she was anemic and how to fix it and that would be that.

She ate her chicken nuggets silently in the back, and by the time they were pulling into the drive way she’d started to doze off in her seat. Daryl opened the back door and held out his hand for her to take it as she climbed out of the car. She looked exhausted, she didn’t nap often these days but unexpected events like this always wore her out.

“You wan’ a nap?” Daryl asks, closing the car door and fishing his keys back out of his pocket to unlock the front door.

“Yeah.” She mumbles, rubbing her eyes. “It’s scary.”

“Yeah,” Daryl nods. “But ya did good, an’ Dr. Grimes is gonna get ya some medicine t’ make those bruises go away, an’ then you’ll be all good.”

“Okay.” She mutters, kicking her shoes off and shuffling through the entryway. “Can I see Dog first?”

“Let me get him but yeah.” Daryl grins. His daughter loved the ex-k9, a hold over from his time on the K-9 unit with Rick. Lydia follows him to the back of the house and waits in the doorway of the master bedroom as Daryl approaches the Kennel. “Wait Dog.” Daryl says, opening the kennel and stepping back from it, inside the Belgian whimpers with anticipation, waiting for his release word, Daryl chuckles and says; “Lets Go.”

Dog hurries from the kennel tail wagging and greets Daryl by nuzzling his hand eagerly and then hurrying over to nuzzle and lick Lydia. She lets out a small giggle, which makes Daryl feel at least a little better, she’ll be fine after a nap he supposes.

“Good Dog.” Lydia mutters, rubbing between his ears and giving him a kiss on the nose. “Can I lay in here daddy?”

“Nah kid.” Daryl says, returning to the hallway. “You know the rule, everyone sleeps in their own bed.”

“Okay.” She pouts, shuffling across to her bedroom and pushing the door open.

“Want me to tuck you in?” He asks, leaning on her door frame and watching her pick through her pajamas.

“No. Where’s my Ariel nightgown?” Lydia frowns, looking over at him.

“Dryer, I’ll get it.” Daryl says going to get the garment. It was starting to get a little worn, but she adored it and wore it most every night. He returns to her bedroom and holds the gown out to her. “There ya go kiddo. When you get up we’ll watch a movie okay?”

“Okay.” Lydia nods, pulling the gown over her head and climbing up into her bed.. “Turn the lights off?”

“You got it.” He offers a smile, flicking the light switch and closing the door behind him.

She sleeps for a long time, longer than he’s ever known her too, and for the first time he actually has to wake her from a nap. Luring her out of bed with a snack and some juice on the couch to get her to wake. A scowl is placed on her face and she’s sitting on the couch, focused on the TV when he notices the time.

“Shit.” He mutters. “Hey kiddo we’re going to be late - go get dressed okay?”

“Okay.” She mutters, but doesn’t make any move to get up.

“Lydia seriously we -“ He’s cut off by his cell phone ringing, he pulls it out of his pocket Lori. She must be wondering where they are. He hits the ‘accept button and puts his phone to his ear. “Hey Lori, sorry we’re just running a little late. We’ll be there in about twenty minutes.” He motions for Lydia to hurry it up and she reluctantly drags herself off the couch and down the hall.

“No - not that’s um… that’s not why I’m calling.” Her voice is strangely high pitched, strained almost.

“Why are you calling?” He frowns.

“Daryl are - where’s Lydia?” She says slowly.

“Getting dressed.”

“Where are you?”

“Living room.”

“Okay. I need you to sit down, and I need you to pay very close attention to what I say next.” Lori’s voice wavers ever so slightly.

“Okay…” Daryl sits down on the edge of the couch, a frown etched on his face now. “Lori, what’s goin’ on. Yer startin’ t’ scare me a lil’ bit.”

“We - I expedited Lydia’s bloodwork, and um, she’s not anemic.” Lori says. “Daryl I’m so sorry, I suspect that Lydia has Leukemia.”

“Wh-what?” A distressed little chuckle leaving his throat. “She- what You said - you said it was anemia.”

“I thought it was Daryl.” She says. “There were no other indicators that she might have leukemia other than her bruises. But -but right now you need to pack a bag for you and - and Lydia. And you need to drive her to the Emergency room at Children’s. I’ve contacted the head of pediatric oncology, Dr. Rhee. She’s expecting you. She’ll confirm the results.”

His head is spinning. Leukemia. Leukemia. Not Lydia, never Lydia. That was something that happened on TV, or - or to the kid whose parents you know from church. It didn’t actually happen. Hadn’t she already been through enough?

“Daryl.” Lori’s voice breaks through the phone again. “Daryl are you there?”

“Y-yeah.” He croaks.

“Can you repeat back what I told you?”

“L-Lydia has cancer. We have to go to the children’s hospital ER I - what about Dog?” It sounds silly, he knows it does, but he can’t just leave the dog.

“I’ve already contacted Rick and told him something is wrong, he’s on his way to get Dog, he should be there before you leave.” Lori says evenly.

“Okay.” He licks his lips, silence coloring the space between him, starting to fill his head.

“And Daryl,” Lori’s voice fills in. “We’re all here for you. You’re not alone.”

“Thanks Lori.”

“Dr. Rhee is waiting. Pack for a few days.” A click, and the line is dead.

#the walking dead #twd fan fic #caryl #daryl dixon #carol peletier #fic; swim

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etraytin · 5 years ago

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Quarantine, Day 64

Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when it's Quarantine Day 64?

It's May 14, for those of us who are still having a hard time keeping track of the days, which means we are very close to halfway through yet another month. Since April ended sometime in the late Pleistocene Epoch, this is a pretty solid accomplishment, go us! It also marks two weeks of being here in North Carolina instead of home in Virginia. My balcony plants are either super dead or forming their own jungle ecology by now, no middle ground. I'm not even going to contemplate what the milk is doing, because it was already not new before I forgot to throw it away on May 1. Oops.

One of my followers sent me a message today to say they liked my quarantine journal, which is very nice to hear! I have been journaling for an audience off and on since I started my Livejournal in 2001 (I am oooooooold), but Tumblr is not necessarily a natural home for diary blogging. Still, a lot of my internet friends live her, and it's comfortable, and at this point journaling is pretty much the only way I can make sense of what's happening from day to day and week to week. I wrote a few things down during the first couple weeks of quarantine, but it barely seemed real for awhile. My daily journaling began around Day 28 because I had a night where I could no longer smell or taste anything, and it turned out to be allergies but it scared the hell out of me. It suddenly occurred to me that not only would journaling be something interesting to look back on, but it might be a vital part of contact tracing for someone like me whose appointment calendar is written on her hand as often as not. I have not needed to use it for that, thankfully, but I have gotten to tell a lot of stories and work through a lot of stuff in my own brain. If it has entertained anyone else or made anyone else feel less alone, that's even better.

Today was another tiring one. I spent a lot of time trying to learn a bunch of stuff about Medicare on the fly, plus line up consultations with an elder law attorney for my mother in law and fill out the questionnaires we need to have done in advance. Answering those questions is long and tedious, and it often involves unpleasant truths like spelling out every medical problem either of them have, and every potential financial liability. I got six pages into the thirteen page form and called it a day, because even getting that far had involved about two hours of research and signing up for various government and insurance web portals to dig up information. Blech. It's like registering for the bar exam all over again but with less questions on moral turpitude and more disclosures about gifts to grandchildren. (And I shouldn't complain, the bar exam application was closer to 40 pages.)

Things with my mother in law did go better today. I feel like I complain about her all the time on here and it's not really fair because she's a great person and I love her a lot. If I didn't, I wouldn't get so upset if she's not taking care of herself! She and the kiddo had a good time today playing games and reading books, and she was able to get in for a very important medical procedure that she had skipped last month because she had nobody to drive her. Today she got that procedure and as a bonus it meant keeping her leg propped up for hours, so overall it was great and there were no new falls. We also had to sit for quite awhile to do the questionnaire stuff, so that was one side benefit of me banging my head against the metaphorical wall for a few hours. Now that she's sleeping and eating more, she just has a lot more energy, and that's a good and bad thing when she's supposed to take it easy.

Dinner was good today too, my husband decided to make a picnic for the balcony and did up roasted breaded chicken, biscuits with hot honey butter, and spicy potato-bean hash. It sound weird, but it was all very tasty, and the weather today was amazing. It's been very cold all week, but now it really feels springy and perfect. The table umbrella was not working, but I managed to jury-rig it with a bungee cord. Now it won't close but it stays open quite nicely, which beats the opposite. I'm also trying to drink more water, because the air here is super dry and I'm eating a lot of salty food, but results are mixed so far. I need at least another couple cups before bed.

Had another post-bedtime conversation with the kiddo just a few minutes ago, one of the hardest ones yet. He was very sad because he said things are not getting any better, only worse. After teasing that out for a couple of minutes, we dug down to him being very sad about the fact that his Papa is sick and not getting any better, and that he wants to visit him, but it's also horrible because Papa not only doesn't remember their previous visits from day to day, he doesn't always remember the kiddo right away at this point. And fuck, I didn't know what to say at all to that. He cried, and I cried right along with him, and told him that he was right, it's horrible and unfair that this should happen to anybody, but especially to Papa, who has always been so clever and had such good stories. In a lot of our bedtime conversations I can remind him of good things that are happening or things to look forward to, but there is no reason to assume that anything is going to get better in this situation, and every reason to believe that they will be worse soon.

In this case, I figured it was best just to level with him, even though he's only ten. I told him that I remembered having to do this with my grandmother, and that was terrible and sad, and it felt like losing her in tiny pieces. It hurts, and it will hurt to lose Papa, and it's okay if he needs to cry or needs to not go on a visit or needs to talk about it with me or Daddy. But I also told him that I believe that my grandma is in heaven now, and that she doesn't forget anymore, and she's not hurting or confused, and that one day we are going to have so much to talk about, and that helps me to feel better. And I reminded him that for Papa, every moment with him is important because every moment he is living in is the one he remembers best. So when seeing the kiddo makes him happy, he is very, very happy and he doesn't remember feeling sad or scared or angry, even if he was just yelling a minute ago. We can still give Papa lots of good moments, because we love him.

After that, we had to go fix ourselves up because we were both extremely snotty and gross, which gave us the opportunity to make stupid jokes about whether we should waste the extremely valuable toilet paper and whether a Kleenex over one's face counts as appropriate masking. There is definitely something to be said for the period of cathartic humor after a difficult talk. To further that, we went and had some cocoa even though it was already after ten, and I let him have marshmallows and whipped cream. Carbs and sugar, hell yes! It's good for what ails you. Then we watched Micarah Tewers again because silly seamstresses is what makes us both happy these days, and by then he was feeling okay to go to bed again.

He's sleeping now, and I think he's doing all right. He said he likes talking to me like this, and I'm glad. I like talking to him too, though it is a continuing revelation to me the kind of complex inner life he has going on. I mean of course I understand that he is a real person, but internalizing the fact that he has somehow gone from being the extremely demanding wet bag of flour I brought home from the hospital ten years ago to a full-fledged self-determining individual whose thoughts and insights amaze and baffle me is an ongoing process. (He was an extremely cute bag of flour, don't get me wrong, but I swear to god, raising kids is sometimes like suddenly realizing your adorable baby kitten now has opinions on politics and wants you to defend your positions on moral virtue.)

Anyway, it's time for me to get to bed as well, because the only Walmart pickup slot I could get on Monday was for Friday at 7am. At least they're unlikely to be running behind during the first slot of the day, I guess? It's funny because I also made a Walmart pickup order for when I get back to Virginia, and they were offering me same day pickup. It seems like they may be a little bit more back to normal than we are here. I may have to check and see if they have toilet paper and yeast and everything. That would be awesome.

#quarantine #dealing with big feelings #dementia #tw: dementia #tw: end of life

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peaches-of-1 · 5 years ago

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Peachtober | Day 23: Crinkle

Reader x Werewolf!Jimin

Genre: Fluff

A/N: I did my best not to use he/him or she/her when refering to the reader, so please let me know if I did so that I can fix it.

The day starts as usual, with a pair of black pants being slipped on and the routine of teeth brushing. Laptop is dead, so you decided to leave it home as you begin making a quick microwavable breakfast of Hot Pockets. Two and a cup of whatever drink you have left in the fridge. You do the daily makeup look you’ve gotten used to doing since moving to Seoul due to a teaching job you found no joy with.

Still, the Korean city had claimed your heart and so you were lucky enough to get a job at one of the many coffee shops around town. It had been open for hours already as you were part of the afternoon/late shift. After the meal is thrown down your throat, you quickly tie up your work shoes and catch the bus with all of the other college students who are continuously cramming for the next test.

A little hop to the pavement, a turn to the left, pass the nail salon and vintage clothing store lies a tiny store where you were currently making a living.

Casual greetings all around as the manager tosses you an apron, “With Y/N here, I’m gone for the evening. Goodbye, everyone!”

Her and her husband must’ve gotten in a argument and not speaking because those were the only times she left when you showed up.

“What is it this time?” You asked the only other part timer there.

Big brown eyes and shaggy blonde hair was making yet another Brown Sugar Expresso, “Oh, um. Not sure. They’ve been fighting all day.”

“Ahem,” The manager said.

Jimin looked at him innocently, “I said nothing.”

Both waited for their boss to pass by before asking.

“You think this might be the breaking point?”

He laughed, “They’ve reached this point several times before, so I doubt it.” and then he smiled at the young man waiting for his coffee. “Enjoy your drink.”

“Thank you!” He replied in hesitant Korean.

The blonde boy began to set up the fresh batch orange crinkle cookies and then began to sniff, ending up near your cheek. You asked what he was doing, making him jolt backwards.

He looked at the floor and then back at you, “Sorry. You just. You don’t smell like honey today.” and quickly, he busied himself with eating one of those cookies for himself.

“I decided to actually have a real lunch instead of bread and honey today.” You said, blushing. “I didn’t know you noticed.”

The dark skinned man approached the counter again, “Can I have some napkins, please?”

“Here you go.” The blonde said, giving him several.

“Thank you!” he said with a smile and went back to his laptop.

“Jimin-ssi, you should get his number.” You said, nudging him and boxing up a dozen donuts since a regular would be here rather soon on the way to an office meeting.

Jimin shook his head, “What? No. I couldn’t.”

“But he’s totally your type.” You glanced at the man with coffee bean skin.

“I mean, you aren’t wrong, but I have someone I already like.” He said as you rung up the young woman with short brown hair and glasses.

You looked at him, “Oh, really? They must be the luckiest person in the world to have your affection.”

“Well, I don’t think they know. I have secrets that I don’t want them to be a part of. Secrets like how your crinkle cookie recipe is the best thing I’ve ever had.”

You smiled. Then the bell on the door rang as another regular came in which made your heart jump. They were so cute and suave, but not your type. Still, he was very handsome and always showed up in a crisp suit usually with some sort of unique pattern on it.

“I’ll have a--”

“Pumpkin Spice Caramel Latte with extra foam?” You replied. “It’s easier to remember because you always put your own spin on the seasonal specials.”

He smiled, “Yes, and with a--”

“Chocolate cinnamon bun? Coming right up.”

The Korean blonde man snuck another cookie as Y/N served their obvious crush. Their customer had to know that they were into him. It was clear to Jimin as he worked on cleaning a now empty table with a pencil left on the floor that he’d just put in the lost and found for whenever the woman came back. However, the pencil smelled strange. It was moist smelling...ah, it seemed that she liked to bite on her writing utensils.

“Jimin-ah, can you make some more muffins, please? We’re running out.” Y/N called as they approached the table of an elderly woman who came here ever since her daughter was in middle school.

The daughter rarely came here anymore, busy travelling according to the mom.

As the day went on, the two worked well. The other owner left to go buy flowers for his wife since he felt bad. He told Y/N to lock up since Jimin had to leave earlier. The young blonde had been nervous all day, knowing he would have much time after work to go to the store and then get home before he--a gentle hand scratched the back of his head, calming him down.

“Are you ok, Jimin-ie?” Kind eyes asked the now smiling face.

“Y-yeah. I’m just behind on groceries.” He replied. “I have a big meal to make.”

Y/N nodded, “You really like meat, don’t you? I remember your friend Taehyung visiting and handing you a lot of meat last month. A cooler of it or something. Is it already gone?”

Brown eyes glittered as he nodded at you, “Y-yeah. I do like meat a lot.”

The last customer left, and it was an hour until closing. Jimin could tell Y/N was looking for something inside of her mind. Thinking deeply.

“I’ve got this. You go do your shopping..”

Jimin asked, “Really? It’s not safe for you to be by yourself for so long, and I am supposed to walk you to--”

“I’ll be fine, Jimin. I’ve got my phone on me, and we’ve got tons of knives.” Then Y/N motioned into the corners. “Also, cameras.”

Quickly the man left and then felt his torso for something. He circled around the lockers in the back, like a dog chasing his tail. Then the sparkling trinket of a wolf necklace was dangled in front of him.

“The chain broke and it landed in a drink during our daily rush. I’ve been keeping it in my pocket. Almost forgot about it.” the beautiful coworker said, placing it in Jimin’s small hand.

“Th-thank you, Y/N.”

Then soft hand felt his head, “You’re not getting sick, are you? Your voice is deeper than usual.”

The young man covered his mouth and quickly gathered his stuff as he talked rapidly, “It’s nothing. I promise. Even so, I should go to the doctor’s and get it checked out, but only if it gets worse. I’m sure I’ll be better by tomorrow. Just tired. Sometimes voices get deeper when the person is tired, don’t you know. Um, anyways, I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N. If you need me, don’t hesitate to call me. Be safe. Ok bye.”

And out the door he went.

You blinked and smiled. Jimin was an adorable coworker, always so excited to see you and very good at following orders. Almost like a puppy, especially when his hair got shaggy. Even the way he often pushed back his hair was like a dog scratching at his ear. Since things were slowing down, you decided to begin the nightly shut down of all the machines since you wouldn’t be cooking or baking anything else for the night.

The time ticked by, and then it was time to lock up. You jumped over the counter and turned the sign. The only things left on were the lights and the speakers as you blasted your favorite K-rock songs as you swept and mopped. You were thinking about your Halloween costume since your friend was holding a party at her place on the spooky holiday.

Maybe you’d see if you could fit your old maid costume or see what outfits went well with a pair of leggings. Nothing too important or special. Just a chance to get drunk with candy corn flavored vodka and cinnamon soju made just for the fall season.

Last thing you had to do was throw out the trash, so you turned off the lights and the speakers and threw your messenger bag on before heading out, making sure to keep the left over blood orange crinkle cookies. You had given the café the recipe, yes, but you yourself hadn’t had the treats in a while.

However, you heard the clanking of trash cans. Was it another cat or a stray dog? Two eyes glowed back at you once it noticed another being near it.

“Ya! Get away from there!” You called, too tired to think about the danger of approaching a potentially rabid animal.

It seemed to back up, though. Then you turned on your phone flashlight, allowing you to confirm the animal was not a cat. It was bigger. It was much bigger than you had seen any dog. Not just any dog. Wolf. It was a full grown wolf that seemed to be not just beast, but had human like legs covered in tan fur. It got on all fours as if faced you. It fan towards you, and you thought you were a goner. Instead, the creature dashed away, but not before you caught the glimmer of silver with green emerald eyes.

That was Jimin’s necklace around that thing’s neck. You ran after it without any hesitation, forgetting about the trash and not realizing that somehow you’d have to fight a wolf to get back your co-worker’s iconic necklace. It wasn’t running as fast as you thought a beast like that could go, so he was easy to catch up with.

The wolf was hiding behind a tree whining.

You held up your hands, “Hey, you have something that belongs to my friend. I just want it back and then I’ll leave you alone.”

“I’m...so...hungry. Stay. Stay back!” It growled.

“So you can talk…” You looked around and saw a nearby convenience store that was still open, such as most things were. “Stay here.”

You quickly went to the store and bought all the stale and warm fried chicken you could afford. Then you dashed back and placed the buckets near the tree and said that you were going to back up. However, you were not given the chance as the form lunged at the poultry. It was no mistaking it now in the moonlight and the street lights. This was a werewolf, something you believed to only reside in fairy tales and fiction of tradition.

There was nothing you could do except watch as it swallowed most of the food whole and spit the bones to the side. Once it seemed to calm down a bit, it waved its tail as it sniffed around your bag. You gave the creature the box of orange cookies that resided inside, the only thing it could be smelling.

“Thank you.” The werewolf said. “I forgot to stock up food and began to wander.”

“You’re welcome.” You replied with a smile. “I should get home, but I need that necklace around your throat. It belongs to a guy I work with.”

It retreated when you said that, starting to stand and walk away.

“Oh, come on. He might like me back if I return it to him.”

The creature stopped in his tracks and asked, “You like him?”

Your cheeks became heated. Did you really just tell something like that to a stranger? A werewolf too?

“Y-yeah. He’s a dumb guy I work with, really sweet. I’m not his type. He’s out of my league, but I would be happy enough if he were grateful to me. He wears that every day. The chain snapped earlier, and I’m sure you just found it near the building, so please.” You stuck your hand out.

“You’re not out of his league. He’d be lucky to go out with a person like you.” His body language was almost...shy?

You laughed, “How could you know?”

“Because I’m him.” He turned around and you saw the unmistakable brown eyes of your coworker. “Y/N, it’s me. It’s Jimin.”

“...what?” You blinked. “You’re joking. Just give me the necklace, and I--”

“You come in everyday smelling like honey because you put it on your toast. You memorized the order of that cute business man because you think he’s cute, totally your type. You always make sure that secretary's order of donuts are ready for her ahead of time. Y/N, please believe me.”

By instinct, you stepped back when he stepped forward.

He sat down, “When you scratch the back of my head, I love it the most.” and he got into a non-threatening position.

You approached cautiously and scratched the back of his head. Just like Jimin, he closed his eyes and smiled, putting his head back as to get more of your touch. It was him.

“So, I’ve got a crush on a werewolf.” You laughed at yourself. “Seems just about right.”

“Would you like to have a werewolf boyfriend?” He asked.

You shrugged, “Sure. Why not?”

#BTS #Jimin #Park Jimin #Bangtan #Jimin x Reader #Reader x Jimin #nb!Reader #Female!Reader #Male!Reader #enby!reader #non gender specifc #Werewolf!Jimin #Human!Reader #Afterhours #food mention #food tw #Day 23 #Peachtober #Inktober

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sampevans · 5 years ago

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Divorce?

INVOLVED: Ava Evans, Samuel Evans, Blue Evans, Luca Evans, Siena Evans, Phoenix Evans LOCATION: Evans Home; Seattle, Washington TIME FRAME: Thursday, January 2, 2019 NOTES:

Ava bit her lip gently as she made a plate of food for her husband, despite the fact that he wanted nothing to do with her. Even though her feelings were hurt she was still a wife, she couldn’t turn it off. Adding more rice and beans to his plate, she looked around the kitchen as their children made their plates as well and she shifted around Blue to add a chicken breast to Samuel’s plate, along with a dinner roll and some peas and carrots. Moving for the dining room, she sat the plate before her husband, avoiding looking at him as she did so. With that she turned on her heels, moving away as she announced to their children. “You all enjoy, I’m not really hungry. I’m going to go lay down,” she told them softly.

Samuel sat at the dinner table anticipating his dinner, as the kids fixed their own plates he looked to his wife. She sat the plate down without saying a word to him and he guessed it was because he had asked her not to. He also asked her not to look at him which he assumed she took literal since she did not. Licking his lips slowly as she announced that she wasn’t eating with them as a family because she wasn’t hungry, he sighed. He would never ever voluntarily cause his wife to cry or hurt her on purpose. He said those things but, in his mind, he was just asking for space. And though she did give it to him, having slept in the guest bedroom he didn’t like the lonely feeling that brought him. Picking up his fork, he began to eat quietly, little by little.

Blue looked at her mother curiously as she left them to eat alone and she arched an eyebrow. They always ate as a family, no matter what. Looking to her father, she arched another eyebrow at him. “Is mom okay?” she asked curiously before she sat at the table.

Ava moved up the steps and into the guest bedroom, closing the door behind her softly because she didn’t want their children to know that they were sleeping in different rooms. Laying down on the bed, she curled up on her side, her back facing the door as she stared at the wall with tears in her eyes. She absolutely hated that her husband was mad at her, of course he had the right to be, she had hit him. However, she had done all that she could to apologize and truly show that she was sorry. She didn’t know what else could be done. Never mind the fact that she in her own right had the right to be upset, he had been lying to her for weeks and she was flustered. Sighing out, she closed her eyes, blinking away fresh tears.

Samuel forked rice into his mouth slowly at his daughter’s question he ignored her at first. “Eat your food Blue” he said to her as he continued to eat his own. It was none of their children’s business what was going on right now, they never let them in on anything of this caliber before and he didn’t plan on doing so today.

Siena looked between Blue and her dad as she moved to sit down at the table with him. She looked at his demeanor, he wasn’t ‘happy’ he hadn’t been for weeks and she didn’t know why. And now her mother was walking around with a questionable disposition. What was going on?

Luca swung his feet back and forth, as he stuffed food into his mouth. Luca hadn’t taken an actual pill in three consecutive days; he was off his rockers at this point. And luckily for him his parents were too busy consuming themselves with other things until he had no clue what he had done. Licking his lips, he jumped up and ran into the kitchen with his plate looking to Phoenix as he said, “can you put more food on my plate?”

Phoenix waited until everyone was finished with their plates, simply because she didn’t feel like moving around all the bodies in the kitchen. So, once everyone was out of the way, she made her plate of food starting with the chicken. She was just about done making her plate when Luca came rushing towards her and she sat her plate on the counter quickly, so that she didn’t drop it as he bounced. “Slow down kid,” she said to him as she took the plate asking, “what more do you want?” she asked him, wondering if he was really going to eat it all.

Blue scrunched her nose up at her father and she ate her food, eyeing him still. “But you’re not going to go check on mom?” she asked him shocked. Usually her parents were annoyingly stuck at the hip when they were both in the house and now it seemed as if they wanted nothing to do with each other.

Luca nodded his head to his sister as he bounced on his tippy toes a bit, “chicken!” he said loudly to her even though she was very near. “More chicken I am hungry” he exclaimed.

Samuel continued to eat, and he finally looked up at Blue before he looked down. “Your mother doesn’t want to eat…” he told her “she isn’t dying Blue” he countered as he continued to eat. He dropped his gaze and ripped a piece of chicken on the bone popping it into his mouth.

Phoenix eyed Luca carefully. “Are you okay?” she asked him as he bounced, and she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Calm down,” she said to him quietly before she began to add more chicken onto his plate. “Here you go,” she said as she handed it back to him before she resumed her own plate, finishing it off.

Blue looked at her dad and tilted her head to the side as she eyed him. “Right…” she said before she looked down at her plate. Something was definitely going on.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Luca asked his older sister even as he zoomed around her grabbed a napkin and zoomed back towards her and his plate. “I am calm,” he said to her as he folded his arms over his chest and looked to her crazily. “Thanks” he said running back to the table clutching his plate and he climbed in his chair and began to eat again.

Samuel continued to eat his food silently to himself, ignoring his oldest daughters last statement. He didn’t know what his next plan of action was right now, but clearly if it were trickling down to their children, he needed to do something.

Phoenix watched Luca as he ran out of the kitchen and she shook her head. “How have mom and dad not done anything about him?” she muttered to herself as she made her way into the dining room, sitting down before she asked. “Where’s mom?”

Blue looked at Phoenix as she sat down. “Laying down apparently, she said that she wasn’t hungry,” she told Phoenix before she looked at Samuel pointedly.

Samuel watched Luca as he sat down and ate his food, something was off about the kid today, but he didn’t know what it was. He looked to Phoenix and then to Blue as she responded to the girl. Changing the subject, he asked “how was everybody’s day?”

Phoenix looked at Blue oddly before she looked at her father. “It was okay…” she said softly before she asked. “Is mom okay? She always eats with us,” she said thinking it over.

“I don’t know…” Blue said shrugging slightly. “Is she okay dad?” she asked looking at him even harder now.

“Yeah dad” Siena drugged out behind her sisters, “is she okay, is she sick maybe?” she said licking her lips.

Samuel eyes moved to Phoenix, moved to Blue, and then they moved to Sienna slowly. He just wanted to have dinner, but he guessed that would not be happening tonight, so instead he pushed his plate away. He sat back in the chair and looked to Luca before he said, “would you also like to know what’s wrong with your mother son?”

Luca looked to his sisters as he gnawed on his chicken bone, as his father spoke, he looked to him and he shook his head. “Isn’t it obvious that you two are not seeing eye to eye right now. It’s probably because father lost his job” the little boy said as he moved back to his chicken.

Phoenix looked between Samuel and Blue and she watched as Samuel pushed his plate away and she bit her lip, just wanting to know what was going on. At Luca’s response, Phoenix’s eyes grew wide and she said, “what?”

Blue continued to eat as she waited for their father to admit that something was indeed wrong with their mother. When Luca finally spoke up, Blue began choking on a piece of chicken and she patted her chest, trying to help.

Siena looked between her father and siblings and when Luca spoke, she turned to his slowly. “We are broke?” she exclaimed as she whipped her head in her father’s direction. “Dad, how could you?” she asked.

Samuel squinted Luca, as his face grew red “who told you that? I didn’t lose my damn job I quit it” he told him. “And no, we aren’t broke. And no that has nothing to do with that woman upstairs as a matter of fact. Why don’t you all ask HER why she isn’t eating” he said angrily as he stood up from the table and walked off headed for his office.

Phoenix was taken back completely. When had their father lost his job? That meant all of the financial responsibility fell on their mother, who made decent money on her own, but it was really the combined income of both their parents that kept up the lifestyle. She was broken out of her train of thought when Samuel left the table angrily and she looked around at her siblings shocked.

Blue’s neck jerked back at Samuel’s words and as he stormed off, she looked to Sienna muttering to her, “that woman?” Clearly their parents were upset with each other or something, rather it had something to do with their fathering being jobless or not, but for their father to not even refer to their mother by her name, shook Blue to her core and she said, “... they’re going to get divorced…”

Siena looked to her father as he snapped on them all, looking to him as he continued to speak on her mother making statements that shocked her. She looked to Blue and frowned as she repeated her father’s words and at her last statement, she said “they wouldn’t do that to us would they?” shocked as she looked to her confused. “What will we do if they do?”

Luca looked to his angry dad and he placed his chicken on his plate, as the man stormed off and Blue told them they were getting a divorce his eyes grew the size of his face. “What?” he said to him as he instantly began to cry out in frustration and anger. He loved his parents and he loved them together. Luca screamed loudly before he stormed off for his bedroom slamming his door behind himself.

Phoenix frowned up her face at Blue’s words and she shook her head. “Don’t say that Blue,” she said as the thought truly occurred to her. “We’d all have to either split up or split our time between them…” she said before she watched Luca, flinching as he screamed before storming off.

“I mean have you ever seen them like this before. I know I haven’t,” Blue said looking to Sienna, then to Phoenix nodding slowly. When Luca began screaming, Blue’s face scrunched up. “Luca, shh, no it’s okay,” she said as she stood up quickly, moving for him but as he stormed off, she stopped in her tracks, looking at her two younger sisters sadly, actually showing emotion for a change.

Ava had cried herself to sleep, but it wasn’t restful as she tossed and turned in the bed. When Luca began screaming, she sat up in the bed quickly before she heard the door slam. She jumped out of the bed quickly, wiping her eyes as she did and she rushed out of the room, looking for her son. “Luca?!” she said slightly frantic as she opened his door quickly. “What’s wrong?” she asked looking at him in shock to see his tears. “Oh sweetheart,” she said as she walked over, scooping him up into her arms and holding him close as she sat on the bed. “What happened baby, why are you so upset?” she asked him.

Luca stormed over to his bed and he let out another angry scream as his mother walked into his room, he gazed at her with bright red eyes, a flood of tears having soaked his face by now. He couldn’t place his emotions without his medicine all he did was raged. As she moved to pick him up and take him into her arms as he sat on his bed, he screamed again behind closed lips he was so mad at her. “H-how could you” he stammered barely capable of getting words out sitting against her with his fist balled. “You are going to divorce daddy!” he screamed as he banged his fist against his head. “I won’t see my sisters” he cried out, “I won’t see my daddy” he said cried loudly.

Ava gazed at her son, shocked beyond belief as he screamed once more and she looked him over in her arms, trying to figure out what had gotten into him. “How could I what baby?” she asked him, trying to understand. “What?!” Ava said shocked, looking at Luca with wide eyes. “Sweetheart, what are you talking about?” she asked as she rubbed his back soothingly. “Your father and I are not getting a divorce,” she said him softly, trying to calm him down. “Why would you ever think that?” she asked, wondering if it was that obvious that she and Samuel we’re at odds right now.

“Blue said it” Luca replied back to her brokenly, even though she said they weren’t he knew his parents weren’t themselves. “Then why didn’t you eat dinner!” he yelled at her “why didn’t daddy check on you like Blue asked him to!”

Ava stared at Luca as he rambled off various things and she nodded slowly, gently stroking his cheeks before she took his face into her hands and forced him to look into her eyes. “Luca, honey, take a deep breath with me okay,” she said as she inhaled deeply, holding it for three seconds before she released. “Again,” she told him as she did so once more. “Now, calm yourself,” she told him as she released his face and continued to rub his back. “Blue doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” she said finally responding to what information he had given her. “Baby, I just wanted to lay down,” she informed him. “Mommy was tired,” she said gently, still rubbing his back in soothing circles. “Daddy just wanted to let me rest,” she told him trying to get him to calm his nerves. It was clear to her that he hadn’t taken his medicine again today.

Luca looked to his mother only because of the mere fact that she had made him, he looked in her eyes as did as instruct. Breathing in and out in time with her before he nodded his head at the older woman. Resting against her plush body tiredly, he held her to himself as she spoke to explain that his sister was educated, or at least that’s what he determined. “Okay” he said to her quietly, it was simple as that he was calm though he still shed some tears he was calmer with his mother’s touch and tricks.

Ava nodded slowly and began to rock from left to right with Luca, holding him close as he laid against here. Rubbing his back, she let out a small sigh of relief as he began to calm himself down. She pressed a kiss to his forehead and continued to rock him, rubbing his back for a while longer. Finally, after about 5 minutes she asked, “are you okay?”

Luca hugged his mother, arms wrapping around her waist as she rocked him soothingly. He closed his eyes as she kissed his forehead and when she spoke again, he nodded his head at her. Though he were sad, he would be okay, and he knew that.

Ava continued to hold Luca close even as he nodded his head and she nodded along with him, brushing her fingers over his hair lovingly. “I love you baby,” she said to him sweetly.

“I love you too mommy,” Luca sniffled as he looked to her with big brown dough eyes.

Samuel moved up the stairs slowly, he knew that it had to been Luca screaming at the top of his lungs acting like some wild animal that was not actually birthed from his wife’s womb. He turned the corner as he moved towards the boy’s bedroom when he reached the landing he peered in ��have you lost your mind boy? What is wrong with you?” he asked never mind his wife who was sitting on the bed holding him as if he were an infant.

Ava looked up at Samuel as he came into the room and she tucked her lips inward as she stood from the bed, adjusting Luca in her arms, her hands now under his bum as he walked past Samuel, mumbling. “It’s okay, he’s fine.” Walking to the guest bedroom once more, she entered it, closing the door with her foot before she laid Luca on the bed. “It’s okay sweetheart,” she said before she told him. “I’ll be right back.” Walking back out, she looked to Samuel with wide eyes. “You told Blue we were getting divorced?” She asked him in a hushed tone, the hurt on her face apparent.

As his wife walked past him, he eyes her before he looked away moving to turn on his heels. Of course, it was her m.o. to baby him and not discipline him as she should. Samuel left his hands in his pockets as his wife left and returned, he looked back at her. “What?” he asked her confused. “No, I didn’t. So, I hope she didn’t lie and tell you that” he said angrily.

Ava dropped her eyes, still not really looking at him. “No, she told Luca that hence his screaming and crying,” she informed her husband. “He hasn’t been taking his medication, so his emotions are all over the place,” she told her husband, already knowing what was wrong with their son. Looking at the carpet, covering the space of hardwood they were standing on, Ava shifted her weight slightly, gently crossing her arms over her body, her hands holding her elbows. “Why would she think that?” she asked her husband, still looking down.

At her words Samuel furrowed his brows, why did his family hate him so? Why didn’t they ever let him have a break? Licking his lips, he shook his head “because you didn’t eat dinner” he informed his wife as he grabbed her by her elbow and pulled her close to him. “Which isn’t your fault” he told her “it was because of me and the hurtful things I said to you,” he told her resting his chin on her head. “When the kids asked me to check on you, I should have” he said as well. “I’m sorry, you have to know that I didn't mean those things. And that I love you very much. And that I would never ever divorce you, unless it is you that would want to get rid of me” he told her as he ran his hand up and down her back lovingly.

Ava bit her lip gently, nodding along. Of course, her not eating with the family is what did it. They always ate as a family, or at least sat as a family, even if she wasn’t hungry. As Samuel gently touched her, she looked at him through her eyelashes, her head still hanging slightly. Leaning against him gently, Ava closed her eyes as he spoke, and she sighed out. “I love you too,” she whispered sadly, “and I accept your apology,” she said gently. “I’m sorry too baby…”

Samuel leaned up and he leaned his wife’s head up by her chin kissing her lips gently. “I know you didn’t mean to do it, I guess I just felt so… you made me feel like a weak little bitch” he finally told her. “I guess that’s why I was so upset…” he sighed. “But I should have never treated you that way and no matter how many lies I told in that instance. You don’t know how much I just want to run off and vacay with you baby…” he smirked.

As Samuel leaned her head up, Ava kissed his lips back tenderly. At his words, she bit her lip, nodding slowly. “I still shouldn’t have hit you regardless, I was just so…” she trailed off. “I wasn’t thinking clearly,” she admitted. “We can still go,” she said thoughtfully. “I’m still off until she 15th.”

Samuel nodded his head, “I have to be truthful with you, I should have been truthful with you about that. I am about anything else” he said. “I guess I would not have ever thought you’d find me a man to ever mess around Ava. I love with all my heart; do you know that?” he asked her.

Ava bit her lip gently, looking up at her husband. “I know you would never cheat on me,” she said, shaking her head. “I just… I got jealous and then to find out that you’d been lying…” she looked down ashamed of herself. “I have to be more rational,” she said knowingly. “I do, I do know that,” she said gently. “And I love you with all my heart too,” she whispered.

“Good, because I would never ever do that” Samuel stressed to his wife seriously “never ever” he added. “And I do think we should really take that trip” he repeated as he kissed her lips again.

#thread #thread: divorce #thread: siena bianca #thread: blue trinity #thread: phoenix mariah #thread: luca pierce #thread: ava mercedes

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leigh-kelly · 6 years ago

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Oh, Love You More Every Day

Some new Fire Island AU.

Each day, the weather gets colder and you find yourself baking potatoes in the morning to put in yours and Brittany’s coat pockets like your mother used to do when you’d have to walk to school when it was bitter. Though it was cold last winter, it seems to be nothing compared to this and Thanksgiving hasn’t even arrived yet. Each night, when you get home from work, you light a fire in the fire place and turn on the oven, hoping the extra heat will radiate upstairs so your bedroom is warm when you retire to it. So far, it seems to be working and you’re glad for the moment you curl up beneath the covers in Brittany’s arms. On a particularly cold day, the week before the Thanksgiving holiday, you come home and go about your routine. You know it will be a few hours before Brittany gets home, but you put a roast in the oven and you sit down at your typewriter to plan your lesson for the next day. When you’ve just begun, the phone rings and you go to it. You think that perhaps it’s your mother, calling to check that you and Brittany will still be visiting for the holiday, so you have a smile on your face when you answer it.

“Hello?”

“Santana, it’s David.”

“David.” Your heart drop down to your stomach and you sink down into the chair by the phone. “Is everything alright?”

“I’m at the hospital with Brittany, she had a real nasty fall at work.”

You take a deep breath, trying to stave off the tears that threaten to form in your eyes. More than anything, you know that you have to remain level headed and you ask David to tell you the name of the hospital. He promises you that he’ll be in the waiting room until you get there and you thank him profusely, so glad that Brittany is not alone. As soon as you hang up, you turn off the oven and slip into your shoes and coat, moving as quickly as you can as you walk down the beach. You want to catch the soonest ferry you can and you’re nearly running on the sand, no matter how unladylike it may be.

When you make it to the ferry, you find a corner away from everyone else and you begin to weep. You hate that Brittany works jobs that are so dangerous, you hate that you can’t keep her safe, and you hate that you can’t be to her more quickly. You know that you’ll be stationed in the waiting room when you get to the hospital anyway, but the idea of being in the same building with her makes you feel more calm. You want to be at her side, you want to take her home with you and care for her like you have the other times she’s been injured. When the ferry finally docks on the mainland, you find a taxi that will take you to the hospital. The sky is dark, but as the streetlights whir by, you take out your compact mirror and try to fix your face. You don’t want to walk into the hospital all tear streaked and make everyone nervous, so you do what little you can with what is in your purse. It feels like an eternity since you got the phone call, but finally, you’re pulling up in front of the hospital and you pay the driver before stepping out and rushing in the door.

“David.” You take a breath when you see him. “Have you heard anything?”

“No. I’ve just been waitin’ here hopin’ she walks out. Her arm was real bad, Santana.”

“I’m sure they’ll fix it.” You reassure him, though you think you might need reassurance yourself. Brittany works with her body, she needs her body to be working, and you worry about the type of injury an arm can sustain.

Because neither of you has much to say, you and David sit in silence. You watch the clock, counting the minutes that go by, thinking of how long it took you to get there and how’s she’s been behind the door for too long. Then finally, when you feel like you absolutely can’t stand it any longer, Brittany steps into the room and you breathe such a sigh of relief. Her eyes are glassy and red and her arm is cast, held close to her body by a sling. Had she not been hurt, you’d have wanted to throw yourself into her arms, worry wracking your body, but instead, you just stand and approach her slowly.

“Ya came all the way here?” She looks surprised and you nod.

“David called me, I’ve been worried sick.”

“I was gettin’ some tools down from the loft and I had a real bad fall. Doc says I’m lucky all I did was break my arm.”

“Brittany.” Tears run down your face and she reaches to wipe them away with her good arm.

“I’m alright, Santana. Ya know I can make it through anything.”

“I know, but—”

“I just want to head on home.”

David calls a taxi and he takes the front seat so you can sit in the back with Brittany. You think that the doctor gave her some sort of medication for her pain because even on the short drive, she keeps nodding off. When you get to the ferry terminal, David comes around back and lets her lean on him as you board. On the bench seat of the ferry, you sit as close as you possibly can to her, stroking her good arm as she goes in and out of sleep. Though you tell David you can get her home okay, he insists on walking her home with you and when you get to the house, he helps her up the stairs.

You thank David profusely and he leaves you with Brittany sitting on the edge of the bed. As carefully as you possibly can, you undress her and help her into her pajamas. Once she’s under the covers in bed, you go to put her clothes away and you find a pill bottle in her pocket. You put the bottle on her nightstand and then you sit beside her on the bed, holding her hand and repeatedly kissing her forehead. It’s obvious that she’s in a lot of pain by the way she holds her arm close to her body and you wish that there was something you could do, wish that you could take the pain away from her. Before you know it, you’re weeping again and you notice that the tears fall on Brittany’s face.

“Sweetheart, ya don’t have to cry. I’ll be good as new before ya know it.”

“I know, but it scares me when you get hurt. It reminds me that you do dangerous jobs and I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

“I’ll try and be more careful. Mr. Brewster wasn’t real happy that I was up in the loft again.”

“Again?”

“He told me last time that I ought to leave it to someone else, but I didn’t want anyone to think I couldn’t do it just because I’m a girl.”

“Perhaps no one should be up there if it’s that dangerous.” You sigh and wipe your tears from her face.

“Just lost my footing is all, it coulda happened to anyone. Doc says I’ll be out of work for six weeks, I think I might lose my mind.”

“Brittany, I don’t want you to do anything that could cause you to get more injured. If the doctor says that you’re to stay home, you ought to.”

“I don’t need to stay home, I just can’t go into work. We’re still gonna go to your mama’s house for Thanksgiving next week.”

“I don’t know if that’s the best idea.”

“Ya can’t keep me shut in here, Santana. I’ll be just fine takin’ the train.”

“Perhaps we shouldn’t talk about it tonight, you need to rest.”

“I don’t want ya treatin’ me with kid gloves just because I broke my arm.”

“Brittany, you broke your arm four hours ago. Forgive me for being a bit shaken up. I don’t think we ought to be discussing what we’re going to do for the holiday, I think if we’re going to discussing anything at all, it ought to be what you need to do to heal.” Your heart pounds in your chest and you close your eyes, trying to shut out how angry you feel that she’s taking this so lightly.

“I don’t need to be coddled. I don’t want ya to treat me like an invalid just because I got hurt.”

“I’m not treating you like an invalid, I’m rightly concerned.”

“Ya have been lookin’ forward to Thanksgiving for weeks and so have I. We’re goin’.”

“I don’t want to argue with you. I really think perhaps we should talk about this in the morning.”

“Fine. I think I ought to sleep.”

You can tell that she’s upset with you, but she closes her eyes and doesn’t say anything else. You sit on the edge of the bed for a long while and then you finally get up. Going downstairs, you discard the ruined roast and you make yourself a sandwich with the cold chicken in the ice box. Your stomach feels like it has a ball of lead in it and you can hardly stomach the food you try to put down. You never argue with Brittany, but it feels like the two of you are at an impasse and you couldn’t discourage her from going to sleep, especially because you were the one who suggested it in the first place.

When you finish your sandwich, you wash your dish and go into the sitting room. You turn on the radio but it can’t keep your attention, so you turn it off. You open The Sound and the Fury but you only manage to read a few pages before you become distracted from that as well. Eventually, you decide to go up to bed and you bring a glass of water up to put on Brittany’s nightstand in case she needs to take one of her pills during the night. You wash up and change into your nightgown and climb under the covers. You know that Brittany couldn’t hold you even if you hadn’t quarreled, but the distance between the two of you in bed feels like miles.

You wake up in the morning and Brittany is still asleep. Even after you bathe and dress for work, her soft snoring continues. It saddens you that you’ll have to leave without saying goodbye but you go downstairs, drink your coffee and eat an egg on toast before you walk out into the frigid air. All day you’re distracted and because you left your lesson plan half done when you raced out to go to the hospital, you struggle to fill the time in your day. The students don’t notice it though and you’re glad for that. When you let them go for the day, you’re quick to leave your classroom and you’re quick in your step to get home.

When you get there, you smell pork cooking and you go into the kitchen. Brittany is using her left hand to stir a pot of beans and you take a breath. You know that she’s incapable of resting, but you wish she would have let you make dinner. She turns around when you hears your footsteps and she shrugs sheepishly. All the frustration you’d felt last night melts away and you step toward her, wanting to embrace her but not wanting to hurt her.

“Hi.” You murmur, stepping into her space.

“Hi.”

“You’re cooking.”

“I don’t want ya to get mad at me again. I just got real stir crazy and figured I could make ya dinner.”

“I’m not going to get angry with you. I’m sorry if I made you feel worse last night. I was just really scared and I want you to be well.”

“I’m sorry I got angry with ya too. I took care of myself for so long and I never had anyone tellin’ me to watch myself. I never got treated like a baby, even when I was one, and it made me feel real frustrated.”

“I don’t want to treat you like a baby.” You tell her. “I want to treat you like my wife who I’m worried about. I’ve seen lots of bone breaks in my father’s office. If you don’t let them heal right, you can have a permanently damaged limb. All I want is for you to be cautious.”

“I’ll try to be. I just don’t know how to be still. This isn’t like my head or my foot, where it was just a few days. Six weeks is a real long time. It means I can’t go back to work until the new year comes. Workin’s in my bones.”

“I know it is, but the best thing you can do now is rest. If you really think it will do you well to go see my family next week, then we’ll do it.”

“I’ll be needin’ to get out of the house by then. But I hate that I can’t pick up the little girls.”

“They’ll understand.” You smile a little and manage to get the spoon out of her hand. “Now sit, let me finish up.”

“My arm is hurtin’ somethin’ fierce. I thought it’d stop by today, but I keep takin’ those pills.”

“After dinner you ought to lay down. You’ll let me take care of you?”

“Okay.” She nods and your smile widens.

“Thank you.”

For the next week, Brittany tries to putter around the house because she can’t sit still and every night you come home to her feeling a lot of pain. You hope what the doctor gave her really helps and you think that if Brittany will let him, you’d like to have your father look at her arm. You know that she went to a hospital and all should be well, but still, you’d feel better just knowing that your father verified that she was okay.

On Wednesday afternoon, school closes early and you go home to get Brittany and your things. Because Brittany can’t carry anything, you packed one valise to share and there’s something oddly intimate about packing your clothes alongside hers. When you come in the door, she springs up from the sofa and you know she’s anxious to go. She never stops moving, ordinarily, and while you savor the summer days where you don’t go to work, she is up early and out the door fishing. Winter is hard enough, you think, but her being forced to be inside for it is even harder.

Once the house is closed up, you walk together down the beach and she holds her arm close to her. She’s so stubborn sometimes that you think she’s really hiding just how much it hurts her. But you let her have her pride, you won’t say anything about it until you’re settled into your parents’ house. If you know your father, you’re certain that he’ll mention looking at her arm before you can even suggest it to Brittany and perhaps he can lessen her pain.

She’s quiet on the ferry and quieter still on the train. You truly hope that this trip isn’t taking too much out of her and you long to squeeze her hand. If it gets to be too much, you’ll go home before Sunday. You want her to know that but you don’t want her to think that you’re fussing too much. Perhaps you’ll tell her later in the quiet of your childhood bedroom when the little girls have fallen asleep. She won’t be able to get frustrated then and if you say it softly enough, she’ll know that you’re just expressing your genuine concern. But you know that she’s already sad that you’ve said no to taking your sisters to see the balloons. You think the walk is too much, you worry that she’ll be jostled, you think it’s just better to sit by the fire while you help your mother peel potatoes.

“I can’t wait to see your family.” She murmurs when you’re just about to the city. “It’s been so long.”

“It has. I miss them so terribly. Thank you for saying we should still come.

“I’ll feel better when I’m around everyone.”

“Brittany?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think perhaps my father can take a look at your arm?” You ask, though you hadn’t planned to. “Just to make sure it’s alright.”

“I don’t know how he’d manage with this cast on.”

“I didn’t think of that.”

“I don’t want ya to worry, Santana. It’ll heal right nice and the pain’ll go away.”

“You’ve been having trouble sleeping, even with the pills.”

“I just can’t get comfortable. It’s in my way. I’d like to be able to lie with ya in my arms and instead I’m stuck lyin’ on my back.”

She gets quiet again and you don’t interrupt her solitude. Instead, you see the city come into view and you smile. As much as you love your little island, there’s still so much joy in seeing the place you called home for most of your life. The train pulls into Pennsylvania station and you take the valise and escort Brittany off the train. Outside, you find a taxi and the driver takes you right outside of your parents’ building. You see the light on in your father’s office on the ground floor and as much as you’d like to see him, you assume he’s with a patient and don’t want to interrupt. So instead, you and Brittany walk up the stairs and Mariana is waiting with the door cracked open.

“They’re here! They’re here!” She cries out and the door swings open violently. She runs into your arms and you scoop her up, breathing all of her in. “Mama said Brittany got real hurt.”

“She did, you’ll have to be gentle with her.”

“But I’ll still play with ya, don’t ya worry.”

Carrying Mariana, though you know your mother will see she’s too big for that, you go into the apartment. Your grandmother is sitting by the fire knitting and you set Mariana on her feet so that you can kiss her hello. She doesn’t say much, she never does, but Brittany greets her and she smiles. Carlotta and Concetta run out of the bedroom and you bend down to them, letting them embrace you. Brittany tried to hug them quite awkwardly but they’re so gentle with her that you feel your heart burst. The apartment smells like pernil and tamales and you know your mother is in the kitchen preparing for your arrival.

”Mija.” She comes into the sitting room holding a fork and you fall into her embrace. “Brittany, it’s so nice you could join us again this year.”

“I’m very grateful for ya to have me. I’ve been lookin’ forward to it a whole lot.”

“Brittany! Brittany!” Mariana shouts. “Come see what I got!”

Excusing herself from your mother, Brittany follows Mariana off to the bedroom. Carlotta takes your valise to bring in there and you follow your mother into the kitchen, washing your hands so you can help. There’s a tres leches cake on the counter and you think that your mother has really gone out of her way this time. It’s been too long since you’ve seen her, but you easily fall back into a comfortable rhythm in the kitchen.

“I was surprised Brittany was able to come. You said she’s quite injured.”

“She insisted upon it and if she hadn’t, I’d have felt I should stay home and care for her.” You tell your mother, not quite lying, though you wouldn’t have wanted to spend Thanksgiving without her. “She’s in quite a bit of pain, I was hoping Papa could look at her arm, but in the cast, he won’t be able to see.”

“I’m sure the doctors did just right by her. Perhaps there’s something more he can give her for the pain though.”

“She’s so proud, she won’t complain.”

“She’s had quite a difficult year. It must be difficult for her to be without her father at the holidays.”

“Holidays weren’t much in Brittany’s family because her father always worked. She appreciates the company of our family quite a bit though.”

“She’s always welcome, mija. She makes a lovely guest and the girls are so fond of her. Now tell me, how is your teaching going?”

“Very well. I’ve made so much progress in just a few short months with these students. I’ve also noticed that they’re coming to school more often.”

“When I was a child, I’d have to stay home from school rather often to help my mother. I never wanted that for you girls and I’m glad these parents are wanting that for their children too.” Your mother smiles and opens the oven. “It was much different back when I was a girl.”

“I’m so very grateful that you and Papa sent me to such a good school and that now I can pass on my knowledge to others. How are the girls doing in their studies?”

“Concetta has fallen a bit behind, but Carlotta helps her immensely. Mariana is smart as they come, like you when you were her age.”

“Mama.” You smile and peer into the pot with the tamales.

“I know the Bible teaches that you shouldn’t be prideful, but you’ve made so much of yourself. Is there perhaps a gentleman that might make a fine husband for you?”

“No gentleman. I don’t spend much time among them.”

“I suppose you’re busy with work. I’d just like to see you happy, mi amor.”

“I promise, Mama, I’m so very happy.”

You cook by your mother’s side for a little while and then your father comes upstairs. He still has a limp and you try not to frown when you see it. When he hugs you tightly, you relax into his embrace and you bring him a drink from the kitchen when he sits down in his chair. Brittany is keeping the little girls busy, but you peer into the bedroom to see that Mariana has her whole treasure box spilled out on the floor, showing Brittany all of her finds.

“Santana! Are you still helping Mama or can you come play?”

“I can take a few moments to play, but dinner is just about ready.” You smile at her and look over to the bed where Carlotta is reading out loud to Concetta. “Girls, one more chapter and then Mama will be calling us for dinner.”

“Okay, Santana.” Carlotta nods seriously. “We’re at a really good part.��

“Santana.” Mariana grabs your sleeve. “You have to see the shiniest penny in the whole world.”

“Where did you get that?” You ask her, smoothing your dress as you sit with your legs tucked under you on the floor.

“Papa got it and he gave me it for my collection. See how shiny?”

“That is really shiny, and you’re very lucky. Is that what you wanted to show Brittany.”

“Yes! I knew you’d have to help Mama but I wanted to show you too.”

“Well I’m here now. And Brittany and I brought you some new sea glass for your collection.”

“Sea glass?” Concetta’s head pops up from focusing on Carlotta’s reading.

“Don’t ya worry.” Brittany grins. “There’s plenty for everyone.”

After you take the sea glass out of your valise and distribute it among the girls, you know that it’s time for everyone to wash up for dinner. You help Mariana put her treasures back in the box and then you usher her off to the washroom. Brittany straggles behind a little and you can see the pain in her eyes. You long to kiss her and make her feel better but you can’t, so you just find her pill bottle and remind her to take another. She swallows it down in the washroom and then she sits beside you at the dinner table, her bad arm resting against the table.

“I heard you were awfully hurt, Brittany.” Your father says, once Grace is finished.

“Truthfully, Mr. Lopez, I’m real lucky. I fell from a loft and only broke an arm so someone was watchin’ out for me.”

“That is especially lucky. I’ve treated patients who have had lesser falls than that and have had several broken bones. How’s your pain?”

“It’s manageable. I’ve been takin’ pills for it.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to have a look at what your doctor gave you after supper.”

“Of course.” She nods, ducking her head a little. “If it’s no trouble. I was real lucky to have Santana around to help me the first few days.”

“She’s a good girl, my little Santana.” Your father beams in your direction. “And you’ve been right good to her.”

“We’re good to each other, sir.”

“And they have the best house!” Carlotta chimes in. “When I’m bigger, I’m going to live on Fire Island too.”

“All my girls, ready to leave me.” Your mother sighs.

“Mama, you know you’re welcome to visit Brittany and I whenever you like. We don’t mind sharing a room so you can have a bit of space.”

“Oh, someday I will. It’s just a bit much right now.” She shakes her head and you know that she means caring for the little girls, you father and your grandmother that she has to do alone now. “But the girls tell me it’s lovely.”

“The house is a bit far down the beach, but it’s much closer to school than it would be if I were still living in the apartment above the bar. And now that we have our neighbors it’s even lovelier.” You smile, looking across the table at Brittany.

“It’s been so long since I’ve not had neighbors on top of me.” Your mother sighs. “Your whole life you’ve never had that, Santana.”

“I found that I was a bit lonely for it, but now that Sam and Mercy are just a short walk away, it’s nice. Especially with winter coming, it’s so isolated where we are.”

“It sure is nice havin’ them.” Brittany chimes in. “Sam helped me by puttin’ in the storm windows the other day since I couldn’t do it with my arm and Mercy brought the baby to play.”

“It must be nice having a little one around.” You mother looks off dreamily. “All my girls are getting so big.”

“I’m still little enough, Mama.” Mariana wiggles in her seat.

“That’s true, mija, you are.”

“It ought to be time you have one of your own, Santana.” You grandmother speaks for the first time, addressing you in English, which surprises you.

”Abuela, I’m very happy as I am.”

“You’ll never be happy enough until you have a husband and a child.”

After she speaks, your father changes the subject. You’re grateful to him for that and you quietly eat your pork. You hope so much that it’s not bothering Brittany but you don’t dare give her a glance across the table. When everyone is through, you get up to clear the plates, telling your mother to have a rest tonight, and when Brittany offers to help, you shake your head and tell her to continue her conversation with your father. You stand alone in the kitchen and you clean the plates, thinking about how deeply what your grandmother said upset you. It’s not true, there’s nothing that could make you happier than your love for Brittany, but you can’t explain to them why you’ve chosen not to get married.

When you’re through with the dishes, you go into the sitting room to find Brittany and your family. Brittany is sitting on the floor playing Sorry! with the little girls and your mother is turning on the radio. You find a place on the sofa and lean back. Your grandmother has gone into her room like she often does after dinner and you’re glad for it. You’re quiet as you watch them play on the floor, just listening to the music on the radio. Your mother has out her knitting and your father reads his newspaper, much like they both did when you were living at home.

“This is the last game, mijas.” Your mother says after a while and you think you’ll go to bed when they do. You’re tired from traveling and you’d like to speak with Brittany in the darkness of the bedroom once they have gone to sleep.

“Mama, can Santana read to us?” Concetta asks, leaning in her hands.

“Not for too long, I’m sure she and Brittany are tired from their long trip.”

“Santana!” Mariana cries out. “We didn’t start Betsy and Billy without you. Carlotta said we should save it to only read with you.”

“Well hopefully then we can get a bit of it read this weekend and save the rest for when you come to visit Brittany and I.” You smile, thinking how much you love that you still mean so much to the sisters you left behind. “Come now, little one, let me help you change into your pajamas and wash up for bed.”

“Santana! I know how to put on my own pajamas.” Mariana giggles.

You usher Mariana off to the bedroom whole Carlotta and Concetta clean up the game and you say goodnight to your parents, figuring you’ll stay in once the girls are settled. While Mariana is in the wash room brushing her teeth, you change into your pajamas and then take your turn in there. She’s just cuddling up into bed with you when Brittany comes leading the other two girls. While they all get ready, you snuggle with the baby, giving her the time that she craves and then when Carlotta and Concetta get into Carlotta’s bed and leave Concetta’s for Brittany, you begin reading. Brittany listens with attention just as rapt as the little girls and you smile seeing her like that.

“Just one more chapter, please, Santana?” Concetta begs, but you close the book.

“There’s always tomorrow, but tonight we ought to go to sleep.”

You lie awake with Mariana sleeping on your chest while you wait for Carlotta and Concetta to fall asleep. Once you hear the soft snores from their bed, you turn to Brittany who is lying awake and facing you. You can see the grimace of pain on her face and you know that she’s been fighting the expression of it all day. You long so much to hold her in your arms but you know that you can’t do you just begin to speak softly to her.

“What did my father say about your pills?”

“He said he might have somethin’ that’ll help a little more. The pharmacist isn’t open until Friday though, so I’ll have to live with this until then.”

“I don’t like seeing you in so much pain.”

“The distraction was real good today.” She promises you. “I sure am glad we came.”

“Even with my grandmother?”

“I know ya aren’t the one thinkin’ those things. She just wants ya to be happy, but I know I make ya happy. I wish ya wouldn’t fuss so much, I knew ya were stewin’ in the kitchen.”

“I just needed a moment to catch my breath. She doesn’t say much, but when she does, it startles me.”

“I imagine so. But I love ya a real lot, Santana. I wish it wasn’t so hard for ya to have to hide, does it hurt ya to come here?”

“No, I love to see my family and I love the way they’ve embraced you. I just wish I could be honest and tell them you’re not my landlady and more than my friend.”

“I know ya do, but at least it’s for the best that they let me come. They mean so much to ya that I wouldn’t want ya to have problems.”

“I couldn’t bear to lose them.” You sigh. “I love them all so much.”

“I know ya do. It’s so good to see ya among them. It gives ya a special brightness.”

“These little girls have my heart.” You hug Mariana closer. “If only there were a way I could see them more.”

“Ya know, I could look around at jobs on the wharf in the city if ya really had your heart set on movin’ back.”

“No, I want to stay on the island. You have the Alcott and your crew and I love our home. I just have to make a point to have the girls out more, if my mother would allow it. Money is really tight and she doesn’t like to take money from me to pay for their trips.”

“Maybe we could just pick up tickets when we’re on the way back, send ‘em in an envelope so they have a way to get to us whenever they’d like.”

“That’s not a bad idea. I’d like to have them out in a few weeks since I won’t see them for Christmas.”

“Ya sure you don’t want to come here?” She asks softly.

“It’s alright, I don’t want you to travel so much with your injury and I had such a nice Christmas with the Karofskys last year. I think we ought to keep up the tradition.”

“As long as that’s what ya want. I don’t want to sadden you in any way.”

“You never sadden me, Brittany. You do whatever you can to make me happy.”

#brittana #starlight!verse #1940s fire island #fire island AU

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tokyotwosome · 5 years ago

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England: ”This Earth of Majesty”

7/26/19 - ENGLAND. The mother to the modern world’s business tongue. A country within the United Kingdom within Great Britain and none of us can make any sense of what the heck the difference is. This wondrous place is an island I’d always dreamed of visiting from the first time I picked up The Chronicles of Narnia. Or Pride and Prejudice. Or Harry Potter. The list goes on. From its rich history, its captivating architecture, and the many famous humans that have walked these streets, England is not a country to be missed.

We arrived in London on a Friday evening. The summer in the U.K. is much like Seattle; the sun is fickle and the rain needy. Seeing the countless parks throughout the city, not to mention the luscious greenery throughout the countryside, it’s no wonder it rains so much here. On Saturday morning, we met up with a friend to do a proper tour of the city. For the day, we purchased a “London Pass” which gets you into over 75 attractions as well as access to the Hop on Hop Off bus. We swiftly made our way to the top of the double decker, not caring that the open-roof was a bit damp and paying notice to the “mind your head” signs up the stairs. As we embarked through the city, a man with a microphone prompted us to grab headphones and listen to his countless facts about London.

Did you know that there are actually two Londons? Greater London refers to the American definition of “London”. This is where the Queen hails and is generally what we think of when referring to London. There is also “The City of London”, a square mile within Greater London that can be easily identified by its dragon statues which guard its borders. The City of London is separately governed, collects separate taxes, enforces separate laws, has their own separate flag, and even elects their own Lord Mayor. Queen Elizabeth isn’t even allowed to enter the City of London without permission from the Lord Mayor. It’s all very scratch-head worthy.

There’s a laundry list of sites to see in London. There’s Big Ben (currently under construction), Westminster Abbey (filled with famous and infamous corpses), Buckingham Palace, the Tower of London, Tower Bridge (much cooler than London Bridge), the Churchill War Rooms, Shakespeare’s Globe, and loads more. One would need to devote an entire week to site seeing just to manage it all in. Needless to say, we didn’t get to see everything, but we managed to get some good ones under our belt.

Our first stop was at the Tower of London, just a hop, skip, and a jump away from Tower Bridge on the north bank of the River Thames (pronounced “Tems”). The Tower of London is less of a tower and more of a series of towers that feel more like medieval grounds from something out of a storybook. Within each tower holds its own treasures and stories. There was original armor, crown jewels, the bloody tower (where two princes were believed to have been killed by their uncle so that he could have the crown for himself), prison cells (where names and images have been carved into walls)...and so much more. You could spend all day at this site alone, but we hurried on off to lunch after building up an appetite..must have been all the murder stories that did it. Speaking of murder - walking across the Tower Bridge, we found the street where many Jack the Ripper scenes were filmed. They even offer evening tours of all his murder spots (a big no thank you from me).

The food in England is a journey in and of itself. If you ask for pie, don’t expect something sweet. A traditional English-style breakfast consists of toast (seemingly the most important food group), beans, mushrooms and/or tomatoes, an over-easy egg, a hash brown, bacon (which is actually more ham-like), and sausage (tastes more like fake meat to me). We can’t tell you how many times we ate the same English-style breakfast, but it really was quite hearty. Brunch will sometimes include all-you-can-drink. And let’s not forget Sunday roast! Tea was also a staple for most, if not all, of our breakfasts - I like mine with two sugars and milk. In terms of stereotype foods, we didn’t see a crumpet in sight.

While London is a must-see when in England, it’s certainly not the highlight of the country. We rented a car and made our way north, with our final destination being Scotland. We’d arranged to have overnight stays in aribnb’s along the way, taking recommendations from our very own Rick Steves. The street signs were comical, seeing ones like “mind the gap” and “queues likely”. Getting used to the different terminology is a journey of its own. First stop was Stow-on-the-Wold; a quaint little market town with sandy-colored buildings, friendly town folk, and shops around every corner. We still aren’t sure what a Stow or a Wold is, but while we passed through, it was clear why it was a place outsiders wanted to visit. After spending a few days in the city, it was refreshing to be in a small town. We managed to only go down the wrong side of the street towards oncoming traffic once, so that’s a bonus!

Shortly following our pit-stop to Stow-on-the-Wold, we found our airbnb in a place known as Derbyshire, arriving promptly at 3:00 PM. A woman answered the door and greeted us by saying, “you’re positively punctual”. She sounded like Mary Poppins and I could’ve swore she was about to break out in song next and a bird would likely land delicately on her finger. That was when I really realized we weren’t in Kansas anymore. She took us upstairs to our room in her large, historical cottage. The backyard view reminded me of something out of a Jane Austen novel. I could imagine Mr. Darcy coming to our door by horseback. We had dinner at a local gastropub, just up the street. The server told us about a place to visit the following day, which we promptly agreed we’d do.

The next morning on our way out of town, we stopped by the recommendation from our server; a nature walk toward an abandoned water mill. During our walk, Rob stopped and asked that I take a picture of him in the grass. At the time, I had no idea why. Turns out he was envisioning a scenic view out of Gladiator and just HAD to reenact it. Making our way down a long drive, we saw a flock of pheasants that we thought were chickens. When we finally did make it to the water mill, we took in the beautiful views and imagined what sorts of things must have taken place throughout history here; a common thought through such a historical place. When we thought there wasn’t a living soul in site, a couple of women on horseback road passed. Such a slow, easy going lifestyle here.

Our next destination was what is known as the lake district; more specifically, a town called Keswick (pronounced Ke-sick). Keswick was by far our favorite stopping point. It had a German feel with British flavor. Lots of nature, lots of shops, and lots of kind people. This is a popular spot to visit in the summertime for Brits throughout the country. While rain was to be expected, we lucked out for the day we spent there and enjoyed a pleasant nature hike.

The day following our trip to Keswick, the weather took a turn for the worse. We were so fortunate to have such a beautiful day for our one day spent there. After our time in the lake district, our next stop was Scotland. Truly, Scotland is deserving of its own blog, so stay tuned for that next! Instead, I’m going to fast forward to when we trained back to London.

We’ve gone full circle and made it back to the city. Our train arrived at Kings Cross Station - so naturally we visited platform 9 3/4. After taking our obligatory Harry Potter photo, we decided to try to squeeze in any last minute sightseeing we may have missed. That’s how we ended up at the Churchill War Rooms. The underground tour is the original housing spot for Churchill and his men during WWII. They have kept the rooms in mostly the same condition with a full audio tour to really envision what it must have been like during the war. Trying to imagine being trapped down there while bombs continued to go off upstairs was a very humbling experience. For me, having been to the war museums in both Pearl Harbor and Okinawa, seeing the war through the British lens was a new perspective. On one of the original maps in the discussion room, you could even see a drawing of Hitler someone had done. A really remarkable site and I would highly recommend to anyone who visits London. Speaking of sights in London, did you know that all museums are free in the UK? That led us to the Natural History Museum! Among other things.

On 8/3/19, our 5-year wedding anniversary, we decided to treat ourselves to high tea. We had reservations at a delightful little spot in the city. The theme was Peter Rabbit and ohhhh was it good! We had mini-sandwiches, biscuits, jams, and treats to the max. Everything you see was edible, including the flower pots. I don’t think I stopped smiling once. When we had finished, we were stuffed beyond belief. Then the server comes over with a HAPPY ANNIVERSARY dessert. We couldn’t NOT eat it...so we stuffed our little bunny bellies. Another successful wedding anniversary outside of the states - once an accident, now a tradition. <3

If you’re considering a trip to the UK, I’d say go Nike and just do it! Some of our expectations were met and others were shattered, but that’s the joy of travelling. A place is never how you think it’s going to be, but seeking the different is what is exciting. Stay tuned for the next blog where we’ll share our adventures in Scotland - my new crush. Thanks for sticking it out and reading along!

#united kingdom #uk #travel #tea #explore #england

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sorenmarie87 · 6 years ago

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What I’m thankful for

Summary: Thanksgiving this year is small.

Pairing(s)/Character(s): Garth x Reader, Charlie, Winnie (OFC)

Word Count: 1,183

Warning(s): Fluff. Winnie blurting secrets.

This is an extra chapter in the Anything For My Lady series. It’s gonna make more sense if you’ve read it beforehand.

A/N: I need to thank @coffee-obsessed-writer for listening to ramble about this story to her She helped with a few things story wise though <3

I do not own any of the pictures used in my story aesthetic. I found them on pinterest. I also hate to say this but if you’re reading this fic - please be over 18.

Forever Tags - @lovetusk @coffee-obsessed-writer@mirajanefairytailmage@kazosa@soythedemonqueen@docharleythegeekqueen@holyfuckloueh@ellen-reincarnated1967@ravenangel33@clockworkmorningglory@lefthologramdeer@disneymarina @ilovetaquitosmmmm@babykalika2001@n3rdybird

Instead of taking a home pregnancy test, you waited until your next doctor's appointment to be certain. “Congratulations, Mrs. Fitzgerald, you're about 6 weeks along.” You smiled at the ultrasound in your hand and tucked it away in your purse.

You knew this year was going to be smaller which made Winnie sad. Sam and Dean were off on a hunt and wouldn't be able to make it back in time. Although you did promise them some leftovers if they managed to stop by. When you told Winnie she wouldn't have to share her pie with Uncle Dean, you watch a smile form on her face. You sighed as you dropped your prescriptions off at the pharmacy and pulled out the list you made with Garth for Thanksgiving dinner - turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy, green bean casserole, deviled eggs, candied yams, rolls, and of course, pumpkin and pecan pie for Garth and Winnie. For yourself you picked a chocolate pie and whipped cream. There were a few more things that you needed to pick up for the house, so you made your way down the aisles as fast as you could.

With your cart full, you made your way back towards the pharmacy. They went over a few things with you before they handed you your medicine.

Your phone buzzed and when you saw that it was a text from Garth, you smiled. I'm getting ready to check out now. I'll be home soon.

Be safe, I love you. Winnie says she loves you too.

I love the both of you so much <3

The drive home wasn’t too bad. You managed to hit every green light and there was little traffic. Garth helped you carry in some of the heavier bags, but you were left to put everything away. You were getting ready to open the cabinet when your phone started ringing. “Charlie, what’s up?”

“Are you guys up for having a guest for Thanksgiving?”

“Of course we are. The boys said they won't be able to make it this year. Winnie was so disappointed.”

“We'll get more pie without Dean being there though. “

“That's what I told her.” Charlie laughed as the two of you continued talking. “can I share something major with you? I feel like if I don't tell someone I am going to burst. Better yet, hold on.“ You fished the ultrasound out of your purse and snapped a picture of it before sending it to Charlie.

“This is real right? Oh my god. I'm gonna be an aunt. How far along are you now?“

“The doctor said about 6 weeks.”

Winnie stood in the pantry doorway with a huge grin on her face. She was making her way back to her room with a snack when she overheard you talking on the phone. Winnie moved carefully out of the kitchen when your back was turned and ran upstairs. She knew better than to tell her father, so she kept quiet about it.

You were sick during the morning, so you got started later than what you wanted. There were a few things cooking already and you smiled as Garth removed his apron and made his way over to you. “We prepped a lot of the food, the only thing left to do is cook it.” Garth kissed your cheek gently and you pulled him in for a hug. “I just wanted to help you out…”

“Thank you, baby. I appreciate the help, now get out of my kitchen so I can finish all of this food.” You pecked his lips and pushed him out of the kitchen. Garth chuckled and made his way to the front door. “Happy Thanksgiving, bitches!”

“Language!”

“Pretty sure you hear worse from Uncle Dean, but okay.. I'll tone it down just for you.” Winnie hugged Charlie's waist and she smiled. “So how’s your mama feeling?”

“She was sick this morning, so if you go in there - be forewarned. The missus is like a chicken with her head cut off.”

“I’m sure she’s just fine.” Charlie tickled Winnie’s side causing the younger girl to giggle. She squeezed Charlie’s waist one more time as she pulled away.

“Dad, can we play more that game today?”

“Let’s set the table for mom, and then we’ll go play, okay?”

“Come on dad.” Winnie tugged on his hand and you heard Charlie chuckle before she came into the kitchen. You were currently peeling the shells off the hard boiled eggs when you looked up with a grin.

“Well you don’t look like a chicken with its head cut off, so I think your husband lied to me.”

“He means well.” You chuckled as you placed the unpeeled egg into a bowl and started on the next one.

“Need any help?” Charlie pulled up another chair and took a seat next to you.

“You don’t have to stay in here and help… “ You glanced around your kitchen at everything that still needed to be fixed. “Better yet, thank you for all the help. I got a late start this morning…”

“Morning sickness?”

“Yep…”

The two of you worked hard on the rest of the food, and Charlie chuckled when you told her that you wasn't sharing the chocolate pie with anyone. With help from her and Garth, you had the table set in no time.

“Before we eat, we should go around the table and say what we're thankful for. I guess, I'll go first. I'm thankful for this small family we've made and the friends who accept me for who I am.”

You felt Garth squeeze your hand, and you smiled at him. “I guess it's safe to say I'm thankful for my beautiful wife and our amazing daughter. I'm thankful that we've surrounded ourselves with friends who can look past what we are.”

“I'm thankful for this meal, and that I'm sharing it with people I call my family.” You smiled as Charlie asked Winnie if she wanted to go and you saw her shake her head.

“‘m thankful for my mom and dad. They go above and beyond teaching me how to be a better person. I'm also thankful for Uncle Sam and Dean and Aunt Charlie.” Winnie bit her lip but continued on. “I'm also thankful for the baby growing in mom's stomach.. “

“Baby, what are you talking about.. “ Garth started to ask but your face went white. “Y/N, are you…”

“Pregnant again?” Garth stood up and made his way over to you. He kneeled so that he was eye height with your belly and gently rested his hand on your abdomen. “I found out yesterday but yeah, we're having another baby.”

“How did you find out, Winnie?”

“I heard mom talking to Aunt Charlie on the phone last night… “

“You better text Dean and Sam. Or better yet, I can forward the text you sent me last night and see how they react.” You laughed and nodded as Charlie pulled out her phone and sent the text to Sam and Dean.

I hope you boys are ready for another Fitzgerald baby.

#Garth x Reader #Winnie (OFC)#Charlie #Thanksgiving #SPN fics #Extra chapter

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sillesworldofwriting · 7 years ago

Text

Sick As A Dog

Title: Sick As A Dog

AO3

Chapter No./One-Shot/ Drabble: One-Shot

Words: 1020

Challenge: K’s Follower Challenge

Prompt: Being taken care of

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: fluff

Author’s Note: My entry for @just-another-winchester 200 Follower Challenge! Thanks to @tngrayson for beta reading!

You groaned as you heard your phone ring. Why was someone calling you now of all times? You didn’t even have the energy to open your eyes properly, how were you supposed to accept the call? You phone was laying on the bedside table which, was too far away.

The ringing stopped after a while and you breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully the person got the hint and wouldn’t try again. You were disappointed a few moments later as “Carry On My Wayward Son” was played anew.

“God damn it,” you cursed, heaving yourself up and turning around to grab your phone. Seeing who was calling made you groan again.

The caller ID said Jensen and you knew that your boyfriend would be worried if you didn’t answer your phone for the second time. He was a worry wart like that.

But you also knew that he would immediately see that you were as sick as a dog which would make him worry too. You didn’t know which option was worse at the moment.

Sucking it up, you answered the call and pressed the phone to your ear.

“Hey, honey,” you said with a sick voice that made you wince in your mind. Yep, he was definitely going to notice.

“Y/N, hey,” Jensen greeted you, the concern already present in his tone. “Is something wrong? You don’t sound so good.”

Sighing, you rubbed at the bridge of your nose. There was no use in lying to him, you had to tell him the truth.

“I’ve got a cold. Nothing serious,” you explained, willing him to accept it and trying to suppress a cough at the same time.

“Are you sure?” he inquired. You could see his frown in your mind and had to smile a bit. Always such a mother hen. That’s why it was better not to tell him that you also had a fever and that your whole body hurt. You would take care of yourself. He deserved this long weekend off with his friends.

“I’m sure. I’m going to be much better by the time you’re back from skiing,” you reassured him.

“If you say so,” he said, still hesitant but finally launching into a story about Jared and his mishap.

A few minutes later you hung up the phone but not without Jensen asking you one last time if you really were okay, to which you explained again that everything was fine and that he should enjoy his time away.

Sighing, you laid your phone back onto the bed side table, debating if you should get up and make yourself something to eat. The kitchen was so far away. Your stomach rumbled angrily, deciding for you. Make something to eat and maybe some tea and then back to bed it was. You needed to be better when Jensen came home.

You woke up the next day with a monster headache and a squizzie stomach.

“Damn it,” you cursed, hiding under your blanket from the sunlight that was streaming into the bedroom from the window. “So much for being better.”

No way in hell were you getting out of bed, even though you knew you needed to. You needed to go to the toilet, and you desperately needed something to drink so you could wash the bad taste out of your mouth, but you were afraid of what moving would do to your head.

Suddenly, you could hear the door to your bedroom open.

“Y/N?”

Surprised, you pulled the blanket over your head to see your boyfriend standing at the foot of your bed.

“Jensen? What..?” You were overcome with a coughing fit before you could finish the question.

The bed dipped beside you but didn’t notice it, trying to concentrate on ending the coughing.

“Easy, easy,” murmured Jensen as he stroked your back, giving you a bit of comfort.

A few minutes later you finally were able to breathe normally again without hacking your lungs out and you relaxed against Jensen.

“Just a cold, my ass,” he whispered under his breath, giving you a kiss on your sweat soaked temple. “Your burning up, love.”

You sighed, closing your eyes. The question of why he was here was still burning on your tongue, but you were enjoying the closeness between you too much to say anything.

“You should have told me that it was this bad,” Jensen chided, giving away his concern in the tone of his voice.

“I didn’t know it was going to be,” you admitted softly, eyes still closed and pressing yourself closer to him, searching for warmth as shivers began to wrack your body.

“Well, I’m glad that I followed my gut and booked the next flight home then. I’m gonna take care of you know.”

“I know you will,” you replied, smiling beside your discomfort. Even though you felt guilty that he flew home early, you couldn’t help but be glad that he was here now. You knew you would feel better soon. Jensen always made you feel better no matter what. “I’m sorry that I ruined your weekend with the boys.”

“You didn’t ruin anything. Jared actually told me to go. He was worried about you too.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“Don’t be. There’s nothing to be sorry about. Come on. Up you go,” he said, helping you stand up from the bed. You leaned heavily against him as your head began to pound again and you got slightly dizzy.

“I hate being ill,” you muttered, annoyed with how weak you were.

“Who doesn’t?” Jensen chuckled, laying is arm around your shoulders to guide you to the bathroom. “Can you take it from here? I’m going to make you some tea and warm up some chicken soup.”

“Yes,” you answered, nodding and taking a step into the bathroom without your knees giving out which you counted as a win.

“Good. Be back in a few.” With those words, he left you to do your business and to get get what you would need for the next couple of hours.

You smiled to yourself. You really had the best boyfriend.

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#Supernatural RPF #Jensen Ackles #Jensen x Reader #k's follower challenge #JensenxReader #Jensen Ackles x Reader #one-shot #sille's writing #Sick As A Dog

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littlej097 · 7 years ago

Text

Klaine Advent - Raw

Summary: Kurt and Blaine try a new restaurant but it doesn’t turn out well for the two of them.

After a long day of running their five kids around, Kurt and Blaine got home at virtually the exact same time. “I feel like I haven’t seen you all day.” Kurt said with a smile as he gave his husband a hug and peck on the lips.

“You too. I’ve missed you.” Blaine replied. The two men flopped down on the couch and let out a sigh. Sometimes they wondered why they thought having five kids would be a good idea. They loved them all none the less, but it was exhausting. “So where’s Caleb and Lucy?” he asked Kurt.

“They’re both at friend’s houses. What about Charlie and Andrew?” Blaine asked.

“Friend’s houses too. And I talked to Penny, she’s staying at school this weekend. She’s got some big tests to study for.” Kurt replied.

“Kurt, do you know what this means?” Blaine said. “We have a night completely to ourselves with no children.”

“My god, you’re right.” Kurt replied with a smile. “What should we do?”

“We have to go out to eat. I can’t tell you the last time we went out just us and didn’t have to worry about the kids.” Blaine offered.

“You’re so right. I know the perfect place to go!” Kurt replied. “We even have a coupon.”

“Is it weird that you saying you have a coupon turned me on?” Blaine asked suggestively.

“Keep it together tiger. That’s for after dinner.” Kurt said with a wink. With that, he went off to get the coupon and the two men pulled on their jackets to leave. They even splurged and took cab into the city. They got to the restaurant and got seated almost immediately.

“So, how did you hear about this place?” Blaine asked.

“This one intern was talking about going here when he got time so I figured it must be good.” Kurt replied. The waitress walked up to them, her pad of paper and pen in hand.

“Can I get you guys something to drink?” she asked with a friendly smile.

“I’ll have an apple martini.” Kurt replied. He didn’t care. He wasn’t driving.

“I’ll have one too.” Blaine said. The girl nodded and headed off to the bar. “So do you think we’ll make it through tonight without one of the kids wanting to come home?”

“Blaine Anderson-Hummel, you bite your tongue!” Kurt scolded. “That is like asking for something to go wrong. And, I really want to spend tonight with just my gorgeous husband. Tonight is virtually a dream come true. Didn’t you used to be the dreamer out of the two of us?”

“ I was. Now, I’m a realist who has been raising five kids for way too long.” Blaine laughed.

“Well just for tonight, go back to being my dreamer husband.” Kurt pleaded with puppy dog eyes.

“Well you know I can’t say no to that face.” Blaine laughed. The waitress came back with their drinks and set them on the table.

“Are you two ready to order?” she asked.

“Yes,” Kurt replied. “I’ll have the baked chicken with mashed potatoes and corn.”

“And I’ll have the salmon with green beans and roasted potatoes.” Blaine told her as he handed the girl both of their menus.

“Sounds good guys. I’ll have that ready for you in no time.” She said before heading back to the kitchen. Once again the two men were alone and there was an awkward silence between them. It had been awhile since they had dinner just the two of them. There was normally talking and fighting between their kids at the table.

“So how’s work?” Blaine asked.

“Oh good!” Kurt replied. “We’re working on something new for the website and I’m pretty excited about, but I can’t say anything just yet. It’s still top secret.”

“And you won’t even tell me?” Blaine asked, pretending to be fake hurt by Kurt’s statement.

“I promise as soon as I can I will tell you the latest fashion trend.” Kurt told his husband.

“Well good, can’t have me looking like a bum in last month’s fashion.” Blaine replied.

“How is everything going with the show?” Kurt asked. Blaine had been writing music for an up and coming Broadway musical.

“Great. The cast is really starting to get into their parts and writing has been going well for me.” he said.

“I’m very excited to see the show. We’ll have tickets right?” Kurt asked.

“Of course. Front row, wherever you and the kids was to see it from.” Blaine told him. “Tickets are one of the minimal perks I get being the musical creator.” Suddenly, they were interrupted by their waitress who had their food.

“Thank you.” They both said to the girl.

“Do you want to split half and half?” Kurt asked.

“Sure.” Blaine replied. He cut half of his salmon and gave it to his husband while Kurt did the same to his chicken. They ate happily until their plates were empty and then paid the check and took a cab home. At that point, they were a little tipsy because their first martini had easily turned into two.

When they got home, the two staggered into the house and took off their coats. “What should we do now?” Kurt asked with a giggle.

“I say we crack open a bottle of wine and watch Project Runway.” Blaine offered.

“I have never loved you more.” Kurt said. “I’ll get the wine.” Blaine took a seat on the couch and setup the TV to play project runway. Kurt returned a few minutes later with a bottle of wine and two glasses. He poured some wine into the glasses and handed one to his husband. “To our child free night.” he said.

“Cheers.” Blaine replied as he clinked his glass with his husband’s. The two men settled next to one another on the couch and began to watch the show. Halfway through their first episode, Blaine began to fidget uncomfortably.

“What’s wrong?” Kurt asked. “You’re awfully fidgety tonight.”

“I-I don’t know.” Blaine said, pulling at the collar of his shirt. “I-I’m hot. Are you hot?” he asked.

“No, I think I’m fine.” Kurt said. Blaine sat up on the couch and a pressed a hand to his mouth.

“B, are you sure you’re okay?” Kurt asked. Blaine didn’t even have time to answer. He bolted from his spot on the couch and ran straight to the bathroom. Kurt got up instantly and followed his husband. He found Blaine on his hands and knees throwing up the dinner that they had just finished. “Oh honey,” he cooed. Kurt grabbed a wet washcloth and placed it on the back of Blaine’s neck.

“Oh god, I hate throwing up.” Blaine said breathlessly, still panting over the open toilet.

“Really? I thought it was your favorite pastime.” Kurt joked.

“I’m gonna slap you.” Blaine retorted. However, he didn’t have time to slap his husband. Another wave a of nausea hit him and had Blaine diving head first for the open toilet and vomiting again.

“You can’t have food poisoning.” Kurt said once Blaine was finished getting sick. “I feel fine.”

“I don’t know.” Blaine groaned. “The salmon tasted a little off to me...maybe a little raw.”

“Then why did you eat it?” Kurt asked.

“I thought I was overreacting.” Blaine moaned. “God I’m gonna be sick again.” For the third time, Blaine threw up into the toilet. Kurt began to panic a little bit. Blaine couldn’t be right. Sure, he had thought the salmon tasted a little funny too, but he felt fine. It couldn’t be food poisoning. It just couldn’t be. Could it?

Kurt was very very wrong. It was food poisoning. It just hit him a little later than it hit Blaine. Kurt soon found himself in the same situation as his husband as he threw up into the toilet. Blaine was lying with a blanket by the tub. Neither one of them had been confident enough to head to their bed. Their bouts of nausea had been hitting them unexpectedly and hitting them hard. Blaine had thrown up at least nine times. He had clearly eaten more of the salmon then Kurt did. Kurt was still crouched over the toilet when Blaine woke up next. His eyes were wide and Kurt could tell what was coming next.

“Occupied.” Kurt said weakly. Blaine looked around. The trashcan was too far away and he couldn’t use the toilet. He used the only option he had. He threw himself over the side of the tub and hopelessly threw up. Kurt dry heaved himself and looked away.

“I don’t know how much longer I can take this.” Blaine said panting. He turned on the water in the bath and washed away what he had just thrown up. There wasn’t much any. He had rid his stomach of the meal long ago and now was just dealing with the aftermath. “I hate you.” he growled looking over at Kurt.

“Me?” Kurt exclaimed. “You’re the one who ordered the salmon.

“Well you picked the restaurant!” Blaine retorted.

“I had a coupon!” Kurt yelled back. “How was I supposed to know we’d get sick!”

“Fine. Let’s just stop fighting. I’m too weak to argue. I’m sorry.” Blaine said as he laid back down on the floor. Kurt looked at his husband. While he felt sick, it was clear that Blaine was really struggling. He looked very pale and was shaking with the chills. Kurt knew he must be getting dehydrated after throwing up so many times.

“I’m sorry too.” Kurt confessed. “I’m gonna go get us some water. You need to stay hydrated. I don’t want to make a trip to the emergency room.” Blaine didn’t even say anything. Kurt walked to the kitchen and filled two glasses of water. He took a sip himself and prayed that it would stay done. He walked back into the bathroom and found Blaine in the same spot. “Here honey, sit up.” Kurt told him. Blaine weakly pushed himself up and accepted the glass of water. He gripped it with two hands because he was too shaky. “Do you think you can head to bed?” Kurt asked. Blaine shook his head.

“I-I don’t think so. Not yet.” Kurt nodded. He really wanted to fall into their king size bed but he didn’t want to leave his sick husband alone. He was worried Blaine would try to stand up and then end up passing out and hurt himself every more. So, instead, Kurt laid down on the floor next to his husband and burrowed under the blanket that Blaine was under. It was not the night they had planned, but at least they were together.

The next morning, all four kids got home at the same time. They walked into the living room with all of their sleepover stuff. “Where’s Dad and Papa?” Caleb asked. “Aren’t they normally awake at this time?”

“I don't know.” Charlie replied. She walked down the hallway and looked in their room. It was empty. As she walked in further she saw a light on in the bathroom. She hesitantly opened the bathroom door and saw her fathers asleep on the floor. “Oh god, what did we miss?” Kurt woke up first.

“Shh,” He said in a whisper. “You’re Dad has been throwing up all night.”

“Does he have a virus?” the girl asked.

“We both have food poisoning, but your Dad definitely has it worse.” Kurt told her.

“Well, do you guys need anything?” Charlie asked.

“No I think we’re okay for now.” Kurt told her. He watched as Charlie took out her cell phone and began dialing. Soon she held the phone up to her ear. “Who are you calling?” he asked.

“Penny.” Charlie told him. “She’s the only one that can handle vomit in this family. Plus, she’s gonna be a nurse. It’ll be good practice for her.” Kurt didn’t even have time to say anything before Charlie left the room. At this point, Kurt was so tired that didn’t even question his daughter’s motives. They kids were old enough at this point that Charlie and Caleb could hold down the fort for a day until he and Blaine were recovered. Right then in that moment, Kurt decided to just lay down and cuddle into his husband’s embrace. They may have been sick, but at least they were together.

#klaine advent 2017 #klaine advent: raw #daddy klaine #littlej097

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artemisrae · 7 years ago

Text

Stranger Things - For Laughs, For Luck, For the Unknown

Title: For Laughs, For Luck, For the Unknown

Rating: G

Fandom: Stranger Things

Characters: Mike/Eleven

Word Count: 7,783

Summary:

“Take me with you. For laughs, for luck, for the unknown. Take me with you.” -The Last Unicorn

Mike goes away to college. El goes with him. Within a year she gains a new set of grandparents, a pet, a job, and enforces party rules.

Note: Future fic, featuring soooooooooooooooo many headcanons. Also, since it’s a fic about them moving away, OCs GALORE

AO3 Mirror

The move to Terre Haute was not without difficulties. Mike was barely speaking to his parents, who had made good on their threats and hadn't come down to the courthouse. Between Karen Wheeler and his nerves at starting college, Mike had become quiet and withdrawn, something that always made El feel uneasy and guilty - so much of Mike’s arguments with his parents in the last month had been about her, about them, their relationship, about how him going away to school and leaving her for Christmas and summers was simply not an option. He’d never turned it around on her, but as Hopper’s truck roared down the highway her stomach roiled, and it wasn’t from motion sickness.

Everything they owned was packed into the truck, and despite the fact that they owned next to nothing it was still a tight squeeze. Mike’s leg jiggled the entire ride. Hopper, who seemed to understand better than most when either needed to talk and when they needed space to process what they were thinking, kept the radio turned up for most of the ride.

He wasn’t any happier than the Wheelers, El could tell, but had learned long ago that standing his ground against El or any of her friends was a losing proposition. Best to enable them to succeed and let them figure it out, she’d heard him tell Joyce after the blow up with Mike’s parents. It’s already hard out there.

Hopper helped them build the single bed, got the couple stocked with canned soups and vegetables, and left after treating them to gyros from the little Greek place down the street. He left them with their bed, a mini fridge, a loveseat, a television stand and a promise to bring them a small TV as soon as possible.

That night they sat on their loveseat, facing each other and playing cards. Instead of feeling lonely the way she might have once feared, she was reminded of the blanket fort. Mike’s fidgeting made her remember how nervous he had been, having a girl in his basement, getting her warm clothes, and keeping her safe for the night.

Whatever was waiting for them in Terre Haute, they were going to be okay.

***

Mike started classes, and was ambitious enough to load up his schedule with 8 AM labs. It meant early mornings for El too, who would quietly slip out of bed and make them both coffee while Mike swore and hit snooze and then rushed through showering and getting dressed. They still didn’t have a TV, but the clock radio was a fine substitute for the time being, and she quickly found a station that played what she instinctively thought of as Hopper music - Croce, Creedence, and Dylan.

More than once Mike caught her bopping around the kitchen to Stuck in the Middle with You, and while it was embarrassing when it was Hopper, Mike never looked anything but pleased, even as he was running out the door to get to class on time.

They’d had an unseasonably warm fall that year, which gave her a chance to actually indulge in the two luxuries in their lives: the newspaper, and the tiny wrought iron balcony that hung off the kitchen. It was big enough for exactly one plastic chair - two, if Mike sat in the threshold to the kitchen. El spent most mornings sitting outside, drinking her coffee black (it had never occurred to Hopper to offer her milk or sugar) and reading the newspaper from front to back.

In all, it was a quiet, pleasant existence, and somehow two weeks managed to go by before El spoke to another person besides Mike.

One morning as she was taking a bag of garbage out to the little dumpster behind their building, she noticed the apartment beneath them for the first time. Since it was on the ground floor, it not only had the same wrought iron fencing marking off its patio, but it also had a solid square of actual land. Instead of grass it was packed with a tangle of tall plants. Upon closer examination El could see flashes of red, and recognized tomatoes, large and small, and peppers in varying shades of yellow and orange.

What had caught her eye, however, was the single flower left on the vines that wrapped around the black metal that made up the fencing. Most of other flowers had died - El could see some that had dried up and turned brown, and others that had lost their petals and had nothing left of the blossom but the green tubular filaments that jutted out like tiny unnatural explosions - but one last purple-pink flower was stubbornly standing up against the weak Indiana sun.

Old habits died hard as she reached out a shaking finger and whispered, “Pretty.”

“Clematis,” a voice answered, and El instinctively stiffened, eyes looking for an escape path. The old woman who had just popped up from amongst the plants offered El a tiny tomato. “End of season, but they come back. They all come back.”

She had a thick accent - Mike would tell her later that it was Italian, and then lose several hours explaining accents, which would culminate in a discussion of Italian food (“You like spaghetti.”) - and El had a moment of panic when she thought that she was being yelled at before she reached out and took the tomato. Instead of eating it, she examined it with the polite smile that she had learned worked wonders with adults.

“You garden?” the lady asked, and despite the fact that she had the words, El’s eyes flicked up to the tiny balcony above their heads.

The woman’s face blossomed in understanding. “You’re new!”

At El’s hesitant nod she reached out and clamped a hand on her wrist. Despite her age, her grip was strong. “Anna.” She nodded encouragingly at El. “And you? And husband?”

She had always hated this moment. Her mother had named her Jane, her papers said Jane, but Mike and Hopper had never called her anything but El, and the sense of security and home would never fade. Jane was a mystery, a gift from her broken mother, while Eleven was a curse, branded on her skin. El was something she had claimed for herself.

“Mike,” she said, pointing up, and then to herself, “El.”

“Ella! Ella, so lovely.” She dragged El to the latch at the gate. “Coffee?”

It was phrased as a question, but it wasn’t a question, and it wasn’t a question the next day, or the day after that.

And that was how El made friends in Terre Haute before Mike did.

***

After it got too cold for her to enjoy her balcony properly, El started a new routine of taking her newspaper and coffee with Anna and her husband Marco. El liked them because they didn’t try to make her talk - Marco’s English was worse than Anna’s, and they traded the sections while Anna refilled their cups. Mostly he grumbled in Italian, and it was well over a month before El even realized that he liked her.

She missed a morning after getting a cold - Mike fussed and told her to stay in bed and left for class too late to be on time. Around lunchtime Marco appeared at the front door with a small container of homemade chicken soup. He stayed only long enough to convey the soup’s origins before he creaked back down the steps, but the next morning when she joined them again he cast an appraising eye over her.

“Better?” The newspaper covered the bottom half of his face, making him seem like a suspicious detective, rooting out a lie.

El nodded. “Good soup,” she answered, because even though she still had a runny nose the chicken soup had done something nice and warm in her chest. The canned soup had never done that.

The paper crackled as he lowered it. Marco grinned

“Best soup,” he answered. “Best medicine.”

Mike caught her cold; he couldn’t afford to skip class but as soon as he left El tromped downstairs and confidently said to Anna, “Mike is sick. Do you have soup?”

The smile Anna gave her in return was enormous and gratifying. She guided El into the kitchen, and to El’s surprise instead of offering her coffee, started to root in one of the cupboards under the counter, unearthing a pot that was so tall it came up to El’s knees.

She heaved it onto the stove, and then reached into their refrigerator and handed El a bunch of carrots.

“You peel,” Anna ordered gently. “While I shred chicken.”

El stared down at the carrots. When she looked back up at Anna, the question on her face must have been obvious.

“We make the soup,” Anna said firmly. “After we make the soup, you make the soup.”

In a flash, she remembered twelve year old Mike telling her what an amazing cook his mother was. Hopper could subsist on frozen dinners and canned vegetables until the end of time, but one summer Joyce had taken El under her wing and shown her the basics of a stove and an oven. She certainly wasn't an amazing cook - she wasn't even passable really, but she could fry eggs and make pancakes and grill burgers and if she could survive in the woods in an Indiana winter then her and Mike could survive on cheeseburgers and canned green beans.

It would be nice, she thought, to make something amazing for Mike.

As they're chopping vegetables together, Anna asked, "Your husband? Right?"

El blinked, trying to understand what she was asking. Anna had never referred to Mike as anything but her husband. "Yes, my husband."

"Not long, right? How long?" She was pouring stock into the pot and not looking at El, but she still felt unease curling in her chest. She wondered how long they would have to be married before that went away.

"Three months." El kept her eyes trained down, waiting for the hammer of judgement that inevitably fell when people learned that she and Mike were actually married. "Mike didn't want to live at school. The only way freshman can get out of it is if they're married. And I couldn't wait for him in Hawkins."

"Ah. 18?" Anna asked, cocking her head towards El. When she nodded, Anna smiled warmly. "Me and Marco too. 18 years old. My family was poor. His family was poor too, but not as poor as mine. They were going to send him to Palermo to work to get away from me."

She looked smug, and El couldn't help the smile that started to worm across her face. "We got married. His mother cried. Married 52 years now."

She put the knife down so she could poke El in the arm. "I could not wait in Pachino. You could not wait in Hawkins."

In a single swooping gesture, she picked up all of the chopped carrots and dumped them in the pot. “In 52 years, you make soup for Mike.”

El gave her a shy grin. Anna had been the first person who had learned that they were married who had offered congratulations without any qualifiers or questions. The Wheeler’s had lost their collective temper, Hopper had been visibly unhappy but ultimately supportive, and all of their friends had openly questioned Mike’s sanity until he’d lost his temper.

Of course, they’d all ended up coming to the courthouse, including Nancy, even though Mike’s parents hadn’t. All the same, it was nice to be celebrated without anyone asking are you sure or exclaiming how young first.

That evening, Mike made a bigger deal about the chicken soup than anything she'd ever done with her brain powers. The day after she relayed his reaction to her neighbors, Marco heaved a pot the same size as Anna's soup pot onto the kitchen table.

"What is this?" she asked, looking around it to make eye contact with Marco.

"For you. So you make soup," Marco said to the newspaper.

El tried to remember if she had ever told them that they didn't have the fully stocked kitchen that Anna clearly had - she and Mike had exactly one small frying pan and a small pot; enough to heat up two cans of soup, but not enough to make the gallons of soup that they had produced the day before. "Where did you get this?"

"Pah." Marco waved a hand. "I know a guy."

***

Just after Halloween, Mike brought home with him two young men that he had become friendly with in class and the library. Maurice and Roy were both computer science majors, while Mike was still intent on mechanical engineering, but they had somehow come to the realization that they were all interested in dungeons and dragons, and were discussing setting up a group on campus.

She came upstairs to find two strangers sitting on her loveseat.

They looked as equally surprised at her entrance as she felt.

Maurice elbowed Roy. "Mike lives with a woman."

"Oh, hey, I thought I heard you." Mike came up from behind, draping an arm over her shoulders. "Guys, this is my wife, El. El, this is Maurice and Roy."

Maurice elbowed Roy again. "Mike's married to a woman." he said in awed tone.

"Way to play it cool guys." Mike rolled his eyes. He was holding his game books.

She wouldn’t ever like them as much as Will and Dustin and Lucas, but Roy and Maurice ended up becoming her favorite of Mike's new friends. They spent a lot of time at the apartment, putting together their group and planning campaigns, and they never treated her with anything other than total deference.

At first she thought that maybe she had slipped up, slammed a door from across the room or something, but when she asked Mike he just laughed at her.

"They're like that with all women,” he told her. "In fact, they're probably better with you than anyone else because they know you're married and therefore not judging them as a potential mate."

"Mate?” she repeated, wrinkling her nose. She knew the word, but not in the context that Mike seemed to be using it.

"It's what men who are bad at talking to women call women because they think it makes them sound," he waved his hands, looking for the right word, “respectable."

"Oh." She thought about how Maurice and Roy seemed almost jumpy around her. "Does it work?"

"No,” Mike said firmly.

One night while they were working, El appeared to deliver a plate of sandwiches, courtesy of Anna, who was concerned about Mike's perpetually skinny frame, and Marco, who was grateful that they weren't throwing loud, drunk college parties.

Mike was sitting cross legged on the floor, balancing a binder in his lap. He was flipping through the pages, frowning.

Roy's face lit up when El entered the room. "Mike, you could help us out! How did you meet El?"

"I found her in the woods," Mike said impatiently. "El, do you have any idea why the Compendium would be missing my Dragonlance Appendix?"

She stopped and thought.

"You found her in the woods," Roy repeated in a flat, disbelieving tone.

El nodded at him. "It was raining." Then to Mike, she said, "Will took pages for drawing."

Mike threw his head back, letting out a tortured groan. "That's right, he needed sketch references for art class."

He snapped the binder shut and tossed it aside. "Sorry guys, I won't be able to get those pages back until Christmas break."

"You know, if you don't want to tell us that's okay, but you don't have to make something up," Maurice said.

He shrank back when El turned the full force of her Hopper-influenced frown on him. She had matured over the years, but she still lived by party rules.

"Friends don't lie," El told him sternly, and then the subject was dropped for the evening.

***

When school resumed in January Mike called it spring semester, though it truthfully felt anything but. Everything was cold - Indiana, their apartment, Mike’s demeanor, everything felt frozen solid. New classes brought a new set of stressors, and the struggle of commuting without a car in the winter made Mike miserable and El worry constantly.

They were both still recovering from the holidays - Christmas had been an unqualified disaster after they had tried to visit on Christmas Eve and Mike and his mother had fought yet again after he had caught her telling his aunt that he and El weren’t really married. The blow up had culminated in him dragging her out of the house, and Mike hadn’t spoken to his parents again the rest of the holiday break.

El felt guilty, even though Mike had never once blamed her or treated her any differently. It was still difficult watching him try to process his constant frustration with his parents, and it was a struggle not to offer apologies that he wouldn’t accept anyway.

One morning after she returned from her ritual breakfast coffee, she heard a weird noise coming from outside. It took her a few minutes to trace the noise to the balcony, but when she yanked back the curtain they’d hung to try and block the draft she was surprised to see a large orange cat looking expectantly up at her.

Her gut instinct was to recoil - she’d never forget the cat in Hawkins lab, and it seemed like any other one that she ran into, whether it be a stray or Dustin’s mom’s Tews, had the same reaction to her. She waited for the hissing to start -

But instead the cat made an odd trilling noise and cried out again. It was easily -10 outside, with the windchill. She had watched the weather report on their newly acquired TV the night before and the meteorologist had issued a stern warning to bring outdoor pets inside, lest they freeze to death, and so El slid open the door, and again waited for hissing.

The cat bussed up against her legs as he walked into the apartment like he owned the place.

She spent most of the day cautiously observing the cat, waiting for the moment it would turn on her. He was easily the largest cat she'd ever seen - when he stood he almost reached her knees - although it was hard to judge under all of his bulky orange fur.

In the early afternoon he started pacing, and crying. El opened the door to the balcony, thinking he wanted to go back outside, but he simply sat in the middle of the kitchen and meowed plaintively.

Mike found her sitting on the kitchen floor, an opened can of tuna licked clean, petting the cat that was now curled on her lap.

He stopped and stared.

The cat hissed at him. As soon as El touched the top of his head though he rolled out of her lap and onto his back, purring as he twisted on the linoleum.

"Where did this come from?" Mike asked. When El tilted her head up to look at him, his face was twisted in a disgusted grimace.

"Outside," El said simply, reaching out to run her fingertips through kitty's tail.

"Use your words El," Mike prompted. He hadn't even gotten his coat off and she could feel the cold radiating off of him. He must have been freezing.

"He came up the fire escape," she explained. "And he likes me."

"Well put him back outside," Mike said stubbornly. "He can go back down the fire escape."

El stood up, slipped her hands under his coat at the shoulders and helped him pull it off. She kissed him, chastely, and pressed warm fingers to his icy cheek. "Too cold. The news said to bring pets inside."

"We don't have any pets," Mike insisted. "We can barely afford to feed ourselves, let alone that horse over there."

"He's a cat,” she said, blithely smoothing over his protests. "And he likes me."

"He doesn't like me!" As if to prove his point, his foot strayed too close to the cat, and he was rewarded with a long, drawn out growl.

"It's too cold." She dropped her gaze and looked down at her feet. "Cats don't usually like me."

Mike sighed, and that was when El knew they were keeping him. He knew that El didn't like how animals avoided her - she had always felt that it singled her out as different, and that people would notice.

"Well." Mike wrapped an arm around her waist, and together they looked at the fluffy orange beast. He looked back up at them, nonplussed, as if he, too, knew El would be winning their debate. "If you're going to have a pet, you have to name him. What are you going to call him?"

It took a couple days before El found the perfect name in the newspaper comics.

That was how Garfield came to live with the Wheelers.

Having a pet, it turned out, was great for El. The short days during the winter made it seem like Mike was gone for much longer than he actually was, and Garfield was good company. He was attentive, and seemed to understand when El's mood was low or she wasn't feeling well, and despite Mike's pleas to keep cat hair out of their furniture, there was no keeping him from curling up between El's feet every night or on the loveseat every afternoon. His purring reminded her of the engine in Hopper’s truck, and he was a great comfort on the days when she missed the man so much she felt it like a physical ache.

Having a pet, it turned out, was not great for Mike. Garfield hated him, hissed at him anytime he came within a foot of him, and developed a habit of vomiting in his shoes. The feeling was clearly mutual - but it wasn’t just him that Garfield was threatened by. He growled at Marco, hissed at Roy, and once trapped Maurice in the bathroom for over half an hour before El could be summoned to rescue him.

He shredded the hems of Mike’s jeans and pulled the elastic out of his socks by swiping at him as he walked by, but Garfield had never so much as scratched El with a stray claw as he kneaded in her lap.

It was not long after that that the first check arrived.

***

“What the hell is this?” Mike was shouting into the phone, and El was growing concerned by the flush in his face.

The little slip of paper that had upset him so much had arrived by mail in a plain white envelope earlier in the day. All of the mail came addressed to Mike - still better to keep her off of paper as much as possible, Hopper had counseled - and so she hadn’t opened it when she’d collected it earlier in the day.

Therefore she’d had no idea what was in the envelope - nor been able to warn Mike before he’d ripped open the envelope and discovered a check from his father.

“Are you trying to bribe me or something? Because nothing is going to change!” El couldn’t hear Mr. Wheeler’s side of the conversation, but he was making a fatal mistake - letting Mike gather and focus all of his energy and get a full head of steam. She had long since learned that it was far better to try and distract him, redirect his anger elsewhere, or else it could be hours before he calmed himself down.

“Did Mom tell you to send this? Does she think this is going to change something? Because she owes me an apology, and that’s nothing compared to what she owes El!” Mike was so loud that she knew the neighbors could hear. Anna would want the whole story when she next saw them. She’d always been sympathetic when she’d described their difficulties with Mike’s parents.

Garfield had long since fled. He was hiding under their bed; El could see the tip of his fluffy tail poking out from under the sheets hanging near the floor.

El hovered in the doorway to the kitchen, biting her lip raw, trying to decide if she should interrupt or not. It appeared that Mike’s father had sent them money, and she wasn’t sure how to feel. Hopper certainly helped support them, but his support tended to come in the form of driving out and helping them with chores around the house, finding them furniture, and making sure they had groceries. If he had ever just opened his wallet and offered them money, El didn’t know about it and Mike had never said.

But that didn’t change the fact that they were just scraping by, and with Mike constantly stressed out about school, even something small would make a huge difference to them.

Strange that Mike’s father had reached out first. Most of the time when Mike talked about his parents he talked about his mom, and lumped his dad in with her. El had never seen them as anything but a united front. The only thing that El had ever associated with him alone was the recliner in the Wheeler’s living room.

“I’m ripping this up,” Mike declared. “I’m going to rip this up into a thousand pieces and -”

El cringed. Whatever Ted had interrupted Mike with, he’d reacted so violently it was almost a physical convulsion. He spun around and slapped his hand against the wall. “That is not an invitation to send another check! And don’t you dare sic Nancy on us either!”

With that, he slammed the phone back into the cradle, then picked it up and slammed it back down three more times.

She gave him a minute to gather his thoughts, for his heaving shoulders to settle back to normal. “Why did he send money?” she finally asked, when she thought Mike was calm enough to speak rationally.

Mike threw his hands up. “I don’t know. He spouted some bullshit about wanting to make sure our heat was turned on. He said Mom didn’t know about it.”

She reached out and delicately took the now crumpled check from his hands. It wasn’t anything flashy - plain green paper, the amount printed in neat text, above Ted Wheeler’s boring signature. The memo line was blank.

“I don’t know what he expected,” Mike fumed. “Did he think I was going to call and say -”

“Thank you?” she interjected. He gaped at her, and her stomach twisted as she considered if she’d said the right thing. So much of Mike’s strife with his parents was because of her, and it wouldn’t do to throw that back in his face, but all the same, she thought he’d be much happier if they could reach some sort of understanding.

And maybe this was just the first step.

Mike was silent, still processing what she’d said. El considered her words carefully. “He said your mom doesn’t know. Maybe he wants to help.”

“He wants -” Mike came in hot, and El cut him off again.

“I don’t care what he wants. We need it.” Whatever Ted had said about their heat wasn’t far from the truth.

Mike slumped. “You’re right.”

He held up an arm and she darted beneath it, wrapped her arms around his chest. He rubbed her back, kissed the top of her head, and then sighed. “I guess we can use it to buy cat food for that manticore in there.”

***

They were buried in snow even through March, when Mike and his friends holed up in their little apartment to study for midterms. Their newest acquisition was a spindly fold-up card table, gifted to them by Marco, who had refused to let El help carry it upstairs and was still huffing and puffing even as she gently assisted from the bottom of the steps using telekinesis.

(“Where did you get this?” she had asked him.

“I know a guy,” was all he would say, mopping his sweaty brow.)

El would lay on the loveseat, Garfield sprawled across her abdomen, reading while Mike and his friends spread their books across the table and worked on calculations together, cursing good naturedly.

Mike had been in a much better mood lately - a second check had arrived in February, and Mike had grumbled a bit, but when another had arrived this month, he'd simply cashed it without another word. She wasn't sure if Mike had talked to his father again since their argument over the phone. If they had talked he hadn't told her, and Mike told her pretty much everything.

It didn't matter to her whether he had or he hadn't - the fact was, Mike's spirits had improved considerably in the last month, and that alone made El feel better. She was aware (because she had been told) that what they were doing - getting married young, going away to college, living independently - was hard. While she loved Mike and the way he constantly stood up for her without a second thought, El thought anything that made this a little less hard was a good thing.

Separately, she hated the thought of Mike being estranged from his parents. She knew him well enough that she was positive he'd ignore them until he got his point across. It was humbling to have proof of how thoroughly he was committed to her, but at the same time El was acutely aware that she'd never had the same nuclear family that Mike had grown up with and couldn't shake the feeling that she was denying him still.

The extra money had also helped improve their meals - Anna had taken El under her wing, and expanded their menu. Besides the chicken soup, El had learned to make wedding soup, chili, beef stew, and ground meat spaghetti sauce, all from scratch. They’d never turn their nose up at Campbells, but making large batches meant that Mike could take better meals to campus, and that the two of them were fed leftovers for a week at a time.

One evening, Mike was drawing on a large piece of graphing paper, hunched over his work. His eyes darted between the textbook in his lap and the ruler he was trying to hold steady. Maurice and Roy were trading a single calculator and then complaining when their answers didn't match.

El was laying on the loveseat, Garfield's tail twitching contentedly against her thigh, reading a copy of The Last Unicorn that Maurice had lent her. She had been focused on the book until Roy’s raised voice had jarred her from her reverie.

“And then she began reading poetry?” His voice went shrill at the end of the word poetry, and El carefully balanced her book along the top of the cushions, not wanting to lose her place. “This bizarre poem, and she was looking at me and was like, really excited?”

Mike didn’t look up from what he was doing, but his head was tilted, and it was obvious he was listening. Maurice was still tapping on the calculator.

“Then when I said I didn’t think we’d work out she started crying, like, really loudly, in the middle of this restaurant!” Roy exclaimed. “And she was wearing all this makeup and it started running everywhere and all these people were looking at us and I looked like one of those assholes who takes a woman out in a public place to break up with her so she doesn’t make a scene.”

“You did take her out into a public place to break up with her,” Maurice pointed out.

“And she did make a scene,” Mike added. “I told you not to date an English major. My sisters an English major, I know what they’re like.”

“Well you’re no help!” Roy complained, throwing his pencil onto the table. The table wasn’t completely level; it immediately rolled back into his lap. “You’re already married! And you still won’t tell us how you picked up El anyway.”

“I told you,” Mike said dryly, head bent over his graphing paper again. “She was on the run from a shadowy government agency.”

“This story again.” Maurice rolled his eyes. He turned to look at El. “Have you heard the lies he tells about you?”

El raised an eyebrow. “I slept in a tent in his basement.”

Mike snorted.

“Really?” Roy asked rhetorically, huffing a sigh.

“Friends don’t lie,” she reminded them, and picked her book up again.

***

El was suffering from major cabin fever as spring rolled in - she was sick of the walk to and from campus, where she sometimes met Mike - and as a result took advantage of the more pleasant weather to walk around their neighborhood, to try and get fresh air in the afternoons.

She had walked down the little street, a block off of the busier part of the business district, a thousand times before she noticed the shop. It blended in with the brick shops on either side, so it took a crystal bird wing pendant, glinting in the sunlight, to catch her attention.

There wasn’t anything particularly special about it, other than she felt drawn to it. She didn’t wear much jewelry - the only thing she wore consistently day to day was the plain gold band on her left hand. Nancy had given her tons of costume jewelry that she didn’t wear anymore - faux pearls in different colors, gaudy gemstone earrings, bows and headbands to show off her curls - and when the occasion called for it El could get dressed up, but accessories weren’t something she sought out, or spent money on.

All the same, she stood and stared at it for several minutes, until a voice interrupted her. “Pretty, isn’t it? Have you been here before?”

El shook her head, finally tearing her eyes off of the pendant displayed in the window. The women standing next to her had a cigarette balanced delicately between two fingers, and was looking at her with one eyebrow cocked, as if she instantly knew all about El without even trying. Her dark hair was plaited into a braid, pulled over one shoulder draped over the scarves and chains that hung around her neck.

There was a ring of red lipstick around the filter of the cigarette. El caught a whiff of the stale smoke scent that clung to smokers, and felt an abrupt wave of homesickness as she was reminded of Hopper.

“Do you want to try it on?” the lady asked, and El practically recoiled from her. She liked to look in the windows, but avoided going into any stores, where she could be asked any questions she couldn’t answer or for money she couldn’t give.

“I can’t pay,” El explained, taking a step back. “I only have money for groceries.”

With a flick of her fingers, the cigarette went flying. “That’s okay, there’s no one else in the shop anyway. It’s been a slow day. And maybe you can come back when you do have money?”

She linked an arm with El, and turned to guide her into the shop. “Besides, I have a way of seeing these things. You’re supposed to be here.”

“What?” El asked, confused at how she could possibly know such a thing.

The shop was dimly lit, and smelled like dust and old smoke. There was something inherently comforting about it to El, who was reminded of Hopper’s cabin back in Hawkins.

“You’re in school?” the lady asked, leading El to the counter in the back. “Or are you working?”

“My husband is in school.” El found herself placed in front of a large mirror, watching as the delicate chain was looped around her neck. The bird wing settled low on her sternum, and El thought it looked good, even with the plain red tshirt she was wearing.

“Not working?”

“No,” El answered, picking up the pendant to examine it more closely.

“You want to?”

“What?” El stared.

The lady leaned against the counter and held out a hand expectantly. “Let me see your hand.”

El hesitated, and then cautiously offered her right hand. The lady took El’s hand in both of hers, rubbing gently with her thumbs. “I read palms out of the back parlor. Like I said, I’m good at seeing things.”

She leaned over the counter. El watched curiously as she looked - and then her eyebrows furrowed, and her face pulled into a look of surprise.

“You’re okay now, girl,” she finally said, deadly serious, and again El felt the urge to pull her hand away.

Instead she swallowed hard. “I am,” she confirmed. That statement had never been more true in her life; she was safe, and with Mike, and that was pretty much all her younger self had ever wanted. “You can tell?”

“Your fate line,” she confirmed. “And your sun line - they’re remarkable. And I’ve never seen travel lines like these before…”

“What does that mean?” El asked. Her hands were starting to sweat.

She was rewarded with a large, impressed grin. “It means your life was interrupted and… you’ve been rewarded for that.”

El thought of Mike, and their little apartment, of Anna and Marco downstairs and Garfield waiting for her. “I think that’s true.”

“So you want the job?”

“I’ve never had a job.” El’s hand curled in the woman’s, closing herself off. “Are you joking?”

“I don’t joke like that.” The lady leaned close, looking up into El’s eyes. “And I never lie.”

And that was when El knew they were going to be friends.

Her name was Claire, and she lived above the shop, and she paid under the table, which was an expression that El had never heard before and had needed explained.

Mike had protested, of course. El had arrived at the conclusion years ago that Mike’s general response to ideas he hadn’t come up with or hadn’t thought out was to protest them and then let himself be swayed by reasonable explanations.

This one had been a bit harder - and hadn’t been helped when Roy had described her as “That crazy lady in the curio shop” - but after Mike had met Claire he had conceded that even the couple hours per week at minimum wage could only help their finances. Not to mention that El was dead set on taking it - anything to get her out of the apartment and into the chilly springtime air.

Anything to help her feel like a normal person.

It was the easiest job in the world - El had always excelled at math, and therefore took to the register with no problems. Once she was trained up, she spent most afternoons reading at the counter, side-eying the college students who came in to snicker at Claire and the shop. She was unsurprisingly good at intimidating people without even saying a word to them.

Claire absolutely delighted in her. So many evenings El returned to the apartment with some kind of trinket that Claire had declared was meant to be with El, that Mike wondered out loud how she managed to keep the shop in business. Maurice pointed out that it was probably a way for her to unload stock that she didn’t think would sell, to which El had sternly told him to stop being mean about her.

She was an oddity in town, and El could understand that burden. The way Claire embraced it was inspiring.

And she liked most of the stuff Claire gave her, even if Mike complained about it. After a couple months, Marco met her one evening with a small cabinet, about waist high, with three shelves that opened with sliding glass doors.

“Needs redone,” he said, pointing out where the stain had been rubbed away. “But I’ll show you.”

“This is perfect!” she exclaimed, crouching down to look at it. It would fit right into a space in their tiny living room, and she could display all of the items that Claire passed onto her. “Where did you find it?”

“I know a guy.” He shrugged, and looked embarrassed when El hugged him in gratitude.

***

In late May, after Mike and the boys had survived finals and Mike had started working at his summer job at a landscaping company, the now customary monthly check from his dad arrived.

She was at the stove, heating up tomato soup and grilling cheese sandwiches for the two of them, when he heaved a huge sigh and asked, “Do you want to go home this summer?”

They had talked about it a little bit, but they had paid for a year’s lease and with his job - her job didn’t matter, Claire would give El time off if she asked - it seemed a bit silly to plan any extended time away. The two of them were settled, and happy.

“I thought we decided already,” she hedged, getting their two plates and their two bowls from the dry dish rack and plating their sandwiches.

“That was before my dad sent us this,” Mike answered, and El studied the check that he’d opened.

Unlike the previous months, this one was made out for double the usual amount. In the memo line, he’d written in his small, tidy script, 1 year.

“But we got married at the end of June,” El remarked, eyebrows crinkling. “How do you know what he means?”

“Because he wrote us a letter that basically says, happy anniversary, this will cover bus tickets home if you want.” Mike showed her. It was a short letter but she noticed it right when he pointed it out. “It’s addressed to both of us.”

Nothing was ever addressed to both of them, especially not from Mike’s parents. It hadn’t always been that way; they’d always been polite if not overly interested in her as Mike’s high school girlfriend, and had apparently been counting on college to give them the time apart so Mike could, in Karen’s words, get his head on straight.

After senior prom was when it had occurred to Karen that there might be adult consequences to their grade school romance - that Mike was searching for a way to make sure El wouldn’t feel abandoned, that Hopper, while unhappy, wasn’t going to try and stop them himself, that since El wasn’t going to college herself she had the freedom to follow Mike wherever he went. She had quickly soured on their relationship and on El in general, and that was when the fighting had started.

She thought about what Mike had asked. “I miss Hopper. And Joyce. And Holly.”

“I miss Holly too,” Mike muttered. Then, “You know, if we just go for a long weekend I could probably get the time off. And my mom might keep her mouth shut if she know’s we’re not going to be there long.”

“We can stay with Hopper,” El offered. He’d complain a bit, but he’d be secretly happy to have them home. If she could get Mike out of the house one night to see the boys, they might even be able to spend an evening in front of the TV with old movies and a bucket of candy, something they hadn’t been able to do last October. “If you want.”

“We’ll see,” Mike finally said, looking down at the check pensively.

El assumed that was the end of that debate, because they cashed the check, and instead of buying bus tickets she and Mike went out to dinner - nothing particularly fancy, but a restaurant where they sat down with cloth napkins was an unbelievable luxury to them. Claire had given El a new pair of ridiculously oversized beaded feather earrings, and Mike had gotten great enjoyment out of making fun of them. The joke had been on him though - the beads glowed in the dark.

It was a couple more weeks, well into June, before Mike brought it up again. He’d been able to coordinate with Lucas, who was home from Chicago for the summer, and their friends would finally be able to come out and visit them in Terre Haute, something they’d wanted for months now.

“So they’ll come visit for a couple days, and then I thought maybe we could ride back with Dustin and spend a couple days in Hawkins, if you still want to go?” He seemed unsure, as if waiting for her to protest. Instead she felt pride explode in her chest. Her boy had always been brave; it had been brave for him to leave his parents, to forge ahead without support from them, but it took just as much courage to go home and try to patch things up after his father’s olive branch.

It didn’t do to let wounds fester, she knew, and so she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek and told him, “Of course I want to go. I’ll call Hop.”

Will, Dustin, Lucas and Max all come to visit. To greet them, Anna presented them with a gigantic plate of fried dough, rolled in sugar; she particularly liked Will. “Eat more,” she told him. “You’re as skinny as Mike!”

Maurice and Roy were still in town, and Mike had spent days conceiving and planning an intense dungeons and dragons session that incorporated all of their characters. The main villain was loosely based on Garfield.

They splurged and ordered pizzas, and crammed in together around the card table. Dustin had managed to convince Steve to buy them beer, but with eight of them and twelve beers to go around, there was no chance of somebody getting drunk and sloppy. It was just enough to take the edge off, loosen everyone up, and smoothe over any awkward interactions while Mike and El introduced new friends to old ones.

El was trying to shoo Garfield away from the bathroom door so Lucas could use it when Roy asked.

“Hey! You guys would know. How did Mike and El meet? Everytime we ask Mike makes up some dumb story.”

“El?” Dustin answered, scratching the back of his head. “We found her one night in the woods.”

“Yeah,” Will picked up, looking at Mike for confirmation. “Didn’t she like, sleep in your basement?”

El turned back to them, smirking. Roy and Maurice looked as though a feather could knock them over. Maurice mouthed for words, while Roy was looking back and forth between Dustin and Mike, as if he were about to accuse them of rehearsing a story.

She cleared her throat, and when they both turned to look at her, she smirked.

“Party rules,” she said sternly. “Friends don’t lie.”

#stranger things: the fandom where my own upbringing in a white trashy small town is an advantage #shrugging emoji #my work #stranger things #mike wheeler #eleven #mike wheeler/eleven

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