#me on this fine december twenty-fifth twenty-twenty-four

[mortedeveles]

under the mistletoe | shinsou hitoshi

This year, you try to worm your way out of Mina’s annual Christmas get-together party but she’s not taking a no for an answer. All you can hope is that you won’t bump into your ex-boyfriend, Shinsou Hitoshi…but luck isn’t on your side. 

↪ Pro Hero! Shinsou Hitoshi x fem!reader (shinsou + reader are in their 20s)

↪ Slightly edited but not beta’d, hope it isn’t too rough :,)

↪ lovers to exes to lovers, awkwardness, some angst some fluff, slight hurt/comfort, yearning/pining, happy ending, reader + Shinsou celebrate Christmas in this fic, etc

‘’You know I need you there,’’ Mina whines into the phone and you roll your eyes. ‘’Please, Y/N! The agency gave me and some others the day off and I need my emotional support friend to help me host this Christmas party…’’ You can hear the pout in her voice. 

You’re going to regret this later. ‘’Fine.’’ Mina cheers and you snort. ‘’But I have one rule.’’ 

‘’Which is…?’’ She’s trying to hold in her excitement and it makes you smile. But then you clear your throat and your smile gradually drops.

‘’Please don’t invite Shinsou.’’ Silence. You bite down a groan. She’s already invited him, hasn’t she? Mina probably wants you to make up with him, even though it’s been over a year since you two broke up. And a little bit more since you’ve last seen him. 

‘’About that…’’ she laughs nervously and you bite the inside of your cheek, dreading what her response will be. ‘’...I already invited him a few days ago.

Sigh. You groan with frustration, already imagining the headache you’ll have soon. Sure, you and Shinsou ended on okay terms, but you don’t know if you’re ready to face him. Or what you’ll do if you see him. 

‘’I can cancel on him if you want-,’’ she starts but you shake your head and cut her off. ‘’No, don’t. It’ll be rude. Just… let him come. I’ll try my best to avoid him.’’ 

Soon enough you end the phone call with Mina, stomach already twisting at what you’ll be facing in a few days. The party’s going to be on the twenty-fifth and it’s already the twenty-first of December. In four days you’ll be seeing your ex-boyfriend, Shinsou Hitoshi. 

❅

‘’...Come back to bed.’’ Shinsou chuckles at your whines as he wraps the tie around his neck. ‘’I would, but I have to go to the agency. They want me to sign some papers. I’ll come home right after, I promise.’’ He kisses the top of your head before getting up. You frown, trying to ignore the aching in your chest as you sigh.

‘’Okay. Let’s get take-out today?’’ He smiles and nods. ‘’For sure.’’ Shinsou kisses you on the lips one last time. Once he leaves the bedroom, you wipe away the forming tears. You wonder if you’re more of a bother than a girlfriend to him. 

❅•°•°•❅

‘’What else do we need?’’ You’re running around with Mina, Uraraka, and Tsuyu, setting up the food and arrangements for the party. Kirishima, Izuku, and Denki are helping set up the decorations on the walls, laughing and talking. You’re anything but in the mood to laugh and talk right now- there’s still much to do before the party guests arrive. The food table isn’t completely set, the juice bowl has to be filled and god knows what else you have to do.

‘’Can you get a package of napkins? They’re on top of my fridge.’’ Mina says as she walks past you, carrying some boxes with desserts. You nod, darting to the kitchen. 

‘’Don’t forget the mistletoe! We’re gonna need loads of that!’’ Denki calls from the living room and you roll your eyes. Grabbing the package of napkins, you walk back to the living room when you notice that there are already guests rolling in. Iida, Bakugou, Jirou, and many of your former U.A. classmates are stepping into the house. Chatter and music quickly pour in and once you’re done preparing everything, you can finally breathe.

You pat down the red dress you’re wearing, hoping it didn’t stain from any of the drinks or desserts. Now, you have another problem- avoiding Shinsou Hitoshi until the party ends. Looking through the sea of heads, you’re praying that he didn’t show up. Maybe he got busy or went to someone else’s party. Maybe his agency pulled him in for a last-minute mission. Wouldn’t be the first time. Or maybe, he just didn’t want to show up. That’d be great for you! 

But then you spot a messy mane of purple hair and your heart skips a beat. You see him before he sees you. There are still eyebags prominent on his face- you always berated him for it when you were dating-, but his expression is light and he’s smiling. The edges of his eyes crinkle when he smiles, slightly heavy-lidded and you think he hasn’t changed at all. Maybe you’re the one that’s changed. He’s wearing a white turtleneck that clings to his skin, a black coat, a pair of black jeans, and black boots. You wonder if he left Tora in anyone’s care, or if he left the cat alone for the night. 

Then he meets your gaze, and you realize you’re staring. You quickly look away, moving through the crowds before he can catch up to you. For once, you’re thankful that Mina bought such an extravagant and big house- it’ll be hard for him to find you and vice versa.

Once you think you’ve lost him, you step into one of Mina’s guest rooms. Your chest is heaving and your heart’s racing. Leaning against the wall, you close your eyes. You can stay in here for a few minutes and then come out, just so Mina doesn’t start wondering where you’re at. And even though you try not to, your mind goes to Shinsou. To your break-up, to when you were together. 

It wasn’t like you wanted to break up. You loved him, more than you ever loved anyone else. You haven’t been in an actual relationship ever since you two broke up. Some flings and dates here and there but they all led to nothing. Just some brief smiles that quickly dissipate into a frown. Maybe you shouldn’t have worn your favorite ring today; Shinsou gave it to you. You wonder if he still remembers it.

‘’Y/N!’’ Kirishima’s boisterous voice has you jumping. ‘’What are you doing in this dark room? C’mon, the party’s getting good!’’ He doesn’t wait for a response, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and steering you towards the living room. You find yourself leaning towards the redhead, smiling. He’s always been so kind and friendly with you, it’s hard not to feel relaxed around him. 

‘’Sorry,’’ you rest your head on his shoulder. ‘’I just needed a moment to breathe.’’ Kirishima nods with understanding, patting you on the back. He takes you to where your girl friends are hanging with one last smile. 

‘’If you need to talk, I’m here. Have fun!’’ He’s off with a wide grin and you snort.

‘’What was that about?’’ Mina coos as she drags you to sit on the couch with her. For some reason, your cheeks burn and you avert your gaze from your best friend.

‘’What are you talking about? I was just talking to Kirishima.’’ Jirou snickers and you roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest.

‘’Mina’s onto something, Y/N,’’ Jirou slides in next to you. ‘’Kiri’s kinda cute, ya know? It wouldn’t hurt to try something with him. He’d treat you right,’’ you find yourself mindlessly nodding. Dating Kirishima? You don’t know how to feel about that. Sure, he’s cute, attractive and he’s the perfect gentleman, but it’s hard to focus on him when there’s a pair of purple eyes pinned on you. 

You freeze. Shinsou slowly blinks, offering you a small smile. He beckons you to come over, and you gulp. He wants to talk to you? Slowly, you walk towards him. You gently nudge and move through the crowd of people and you’re starting to feel light-headed. You haven’t talked to Shinsou in over a year. Is this really a good idea? You thought that cutting all ties with him would be the best to not destroy the memories you made with him. Didn’t want to stain them with something else. What if this makes it worse? It hurt so much to let him go. You don’t want to go through that pain again.

‘’Hey there,’’ you had forgotten how warm his voice makes you feel. ‘’You…you look good.’’ He scratches the back of his neck, a habit he does when he’s nervous. You smile.

‘’Thanks,’’ You nod. ‘’You look good too.’’ He’s leaning against the wall and you stand next to him, crossing your arms over your chest. ‘’How are you…?’’ 

Shinsou hums, slowly closing his eyes as he rests his head against the wall. He looks so good doing it and your heart skips a beat. Fuck…aren’t you supposed to be over him?

‘’I’m doing alright. The agency is keeping me busy as usual,’’ your chest slightly stings. Now you remember why you two broke up. ‘’Tora got a girlfriend.’’ Thank God for the change of subject. You smile, meeting his gaze.

‘’Really? That’s so cute, I’m glad to hear that. Who’s the lucky girl?’’ Shinsou chuckles and pulls out his phone from his pants pocket. 

‘’I’ll show you,’’ you instinctively scoot closer to him, head slightly lowering to look at his phone’s screen. It’s a black cat with gorgeous amber eyes and you’re cooing at the picture before you know it.

‘’Oh my god, she’s beautiful! Where did you find her?’’ You look up and Shinsou is smiling at you. 

‘’I got Mei from the shelter near my house. She’s an old kitty, a year or two older than Tora. The volunteers told me she’d been there for almost a year and no one had adopted her because of her age.’’

‘’Oh,’’ your heart sinks, chest aching for the cat. ‘’Poor girl. But I’m sure she’s found a loving home with you, right?’’ You smile at Shinsou but your smile falters when you realize how close you are to him. His mint breath is fanning the lower half of your face and your neck. His eyes are pinned on yours. You want- you should look away, but you can’t. A familiar sensation pools at the bottom of your stomach, though you can’t tell if it’s excitement or nervousness.

‘’She sure has,’’ he lowers his voice to a whisper and you swallow audibly. ‘’Mei is a real sweetheart…’’

‘’I’m…I’m glad to hear that,’’ your voice is getting more and more high-pitched by the second. ‘’How long have you had her?’’ Someone accidentally pushes past you, and you regain your senses. You step back from Shinsou and your head starts to clear. Damnit, what are you doing!? 

‘’A few months ago,’’ he says and you nod. ‘’But she’s made herself at home real quick.’’ 

You laugh, already imagining the black cat prancing around, acting like the owner of his home. ‘’That’s cute. I-,’’ you’re stopped by Hatsume’s loud voice.

‘’Y/N? Is that you-? Hey!’’ The pink-haired girl swoops in and waves at Shinsou before steering you away. ‘’I haven’t seen you in forever girl, how are you?’’ 

You laugh, both out of relief and genuine happiness in seeing her. ‘’I’m doing good, Mei. How are you? I heard that you’ve started to work on Bakugou’s new tech for his suit. How’s that going?’’

She sighs loudly and you snicker. ‘’Don’t even remind me. I’m still working on his prototype! Anyway…’’ she lowers her voice as the two of you step into another one of Mina’s lounge rooms. ‘’You were talking with Shinsou. What was that about?’’ 

You bite the inside of your cheek and look away. ‘’I don’t know. I was planning on avoiding him the entire night,’’ you smile to yourself, and Hatsume nods. ‘’But then he saw me, and we just started talking I guess. I think… I think we’re okay? I don’t know.’’ The pink-haired girl nods, before pulling you into a hug.

‘’I just don’t want to see you hurt again, Y/N. I know how much it hurt you when you two broke up. Be careful, okay? You deserve someone who gives you the world.’’ You deserve someone who doesn’t throw you to the side, you think she wants to say. But you’re glad she doesn’t say it. You nod, hugging her back tightly. It’s been a while since you’ve received a hug and you’re not complaining. 

‘’I will. Thank you, Mei.’’ She smiles. ‘’Okay, I’ve got to go now. Lots of people to catch up with! I’ll talk to you later.’’ 

You nod and exhale when she leaves the lounge room. There are only a few other people in the room with you, some friends of Mina you don’t know that well. You sit down on an empty couch, burying your head between your arms. You should’ve stayed home.

❅

The dinner you made is neatly wrapped in the fridge, long gone cold from sitting on the dinner table unattended. You’ve formed a small pile of dirty and used napkins on the table that you wiped your tears with. Maybe things would be different if you were a pro-hero like Shinsou, instead of a common civilian. Maybe if you had made it into U.A’s hero course instead of the general studies, you wouldn’t be crying at midnight.

You’ve been at Shinsou’s side, even before he got into the hero department of U.A. You supported him through every challenge and struggle. But with every step he took forward, it was a step away from you. 

When he was recruited at a well-known agency, you were so proud. He kept getting recognition and rose through the hero ranks. But that meant more nights you spent alone and less time with him. Seeing him come home bruised and tired. Left stood up when you two made plans because a villain decided to blow up a building. 

The slam of the door returns you to reality. You meet Shinsou’s tired gaze as he limps into the kitchen, walking towards the fridge. He barely spares you a glance while speaking.

‘’Why are you up? It’s late.’’ 

You swallow thickly. ‘’I was waiting for you to come home.’’

‘’Oh.’’ Pause. ‘’You shouldn’t have.’’ 

‘’Why didn’t you answer any of my texts? Where were you?’’ You say the words before you can regret it. Shinsou sighs and you’re already regretting your decision. 

‘’I was at work- where else would I be? I’m really tired,’’ he runs a hand through his hair and closes the fridge. ‘’Let’s just go to bed.’’ 

You stand up abruptly, the chair’s legs scraping against the floor. ‘’No, not yet. You’re avoiding my questions. Were you…’’ your mouth goes dry. ‘’Were you with someone else?’’ 

Your boyfriend slams a cup on the counter. He turns around and meets your gaze and you clench your fists. ‘’Don’t you dare accuse me of that. I was working overtime, we were short on sidekicks today. I wasn’t cheating on you. Can you just stop bothering me? You’re acting like my mother at this point.’’

Ouch. ‘’I’m just worried…’’ you wrap your arms around him but he doesn’t budge. ‘’I was worried something had happened to you. You said you’d be home by eight.’’ 

 ‘’Yeah well, there was a change of plans and I’m sorry. But I’m tired and I don’t want to keep arguing. Can we just…can we just go to bed?’’ Shinsou sighs. Shit, now you feel guilty. You nod, and the two of you head to the bedroom. You crawl into bed, your back facing Shinsou’s. He doesn’t hug you or kiss you goodnight. When he starts to snore, tears silently trail down your cheeks. He didn’t even remember that the two of you had a stay-at-home date planned. 

❅•°•°•❅

‘’Y/N! We’re handing out the cupcakes Momo made,’’ Mina peeks her head into the lounge room. ‘’C’mon!’’ You smile and nod, walking out of the room at her side. It helps you clear your mind of the past. As Mina said, Momo’s walking around the main living room with four trays, handing out some exquisite-looking cupcakes and your mouth waters. You look around for a few seconds and when you don’t see any heads of purple hair, you walk towards Momo. 

‘’Hello, Y/N,’’ she greets you with a warm smile and you smile back. ‘’Would you like a cupcake? I made them just for the occasion.’’ 

‘’Of course!’’ You eagerly grab one. ‘’Thank you, Momo.’’ She nods. Mina’s arm goes around your shoulders and she starts bickering about some gossip that makes you snort. If you can continue to avoid Shinsou for the rest of the night, then you think you’ll be fine. Some small talk with him didn’t hurt, but you’re not sure if anything beyond that is good for either of you two. Not when you can’t stop thinking about your ex-relationship and how he still makes your heart race. Even when you’re the one that broke up with him. 

❅•°•°•❅

Patience and understanding were key to your relationship with Shinsou. You had to be understanding of how demanding his pro-hero work was, patient with all the times he stood you up. But it wasn’t enough. A part of you wondered if you weren’t enough. Not enough to keep up with Shinsou.

You broke up with him two weeks after the midnight incident. Even though you were the one to end it, you were crying more than him. Which only proved further your need to end it. You cut all ties with him, which was hard- considering that many of your friends were also his friends. When your friends heard the news, they were quick to rush to your side and help you recover from your heartbreak. You heard nothing for Shinsou and that helped, even when your heart longed for him. Now that you’re talking to him after a year of radio silence, your heart’s betraying you. Your stupid, foolish heart still skips a beat around him, still feels warm and ecstatic with his presence. Still yearns for him. Has it learned nothing from last year? From the deceptions and heartbreak you went through when you loved him? 

But you can’t stop yourself from smiling when you see him standing on Mina’s balcony all alone. Can’t stop yourself from walking towards him even when you told yourself to avoid him all night. You’re a huge hypocrite. 

‘’Hey,’’ he turns at the sound of your voice. ‘’How come you’re alone?’’ Shinsou smiles before turning back to look at the scenery. 

‘’Social gatherings aren’t my thing,’’ you nod and lean on the railing next to him. ‘’Yeah,’’ you mumble. ‘’I remember.’’ You can feel him looking at you but you refuse to meet his gaze. 

‘’What was that?’’ Oh shit. Your face burns as you shake your head. 

‘’Nothing! Just talking to myself.’’ Shinsou hums, nodding. You shiver, cursing yourself for forgetting your coat inside. But he notices and shrugs off his coat, draping it over his shoulders.

‘’Oh,’’ your heart skips a beat. ‘’Thank you…’’ Shinsou chuckles.

‘’You always forget to bring a coat outside. If you keep it up, you’ll be getting sick one of these days.’’ He says disapprovingly yet teasingly. You laugh. 

‘’No, I won’t. I’ve got your coat on me, don’t I?’’ You smile but it quickly dissipates. You won’t have his coat after tonight. Shinsou smiles too and his gaze lowers to your hand.

‘’Is that the ring I gave you?’’ He points it out and your stomach flips. You laugh nervously before nodding.

‘’This one? Yeah, it is.’’ He grabs your hand with the ring, slowly stroking it. His fingers trace the ring and you can hear your heart racing in your ears. 

‘’You kept it.’’ He sounds surprised. You frown, confused but you nod. ‘’Of course, I did. Why wouldn’t I?’’ He doesn’t respond. The two of you grow silent and you wonder if you should say something, but he beats you to it.

‘’Y/N…why did we break up?’’ Out of all the things you were expecting him to say, that was definitely not it. You slip your hand away from his and grab onto the cold railing, squeezing it. How the hell are you supposed to respond to that? 

‘’Because..’’ you twist the ring around your finger. ‘’Our lives just weren’t compatible.’’ Shinsou scoffs. 

‘’Weren’t compatible? We’ve known each other since we were fourteen.’’ Your stomach twists and you frown. 

‘’Yeah, we have. And you still managed to make me feel like a total stranger instead of your girlfriend.’’ A weight lifts off your shoulder. But you wonder how he’ll react.

Silence. Then he exhales. ‘’I… I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.’’ You smile and tap your fingers on the railing. 

‘’It’s okay.’’ 

 Shinsou sighs and you turn to look at him. He shakes his head. ‘’It’s not okay and I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick. All those times… I just didn’t want to be a burden to you. I know I’m a lot to deal with and I didn’t want to make it worse.’’ 

Despite the situation you’re stuck in, you laugh. ‘’Shinsou,’’ you turn to the side and reach for his face, cupping his cheek. ‘’The last thing you’d be to me is a burden. I promise.’’ His hand interlocks with yours, and your heart races. A breeze of wind howls in your ears and despite Shinsou’s warm coat on your shoulders, you still shiver. He snorts and slowly pulls you closer until your chest is pressed against his.

‘’I’ve been an idiot,’’ he squeezes your hand. You shake your head and squeeze his hand back. ‘’Don’t be so hard on yourself- I was no saint. I’m sorry…’’ you step away. ‘’You also deserved closure. I shouldn’t have run away after we broke up.’’ 

He nods and leans back against the railing. You tilt your head to the side, watching him. Wondering what’ll happen next. 

‘’It’s going to be a new year soon,’’ Shinsou says and you slowly nod. ‘’A new start. Would you like to start over again…?’’ Your heart flutters. Is this another one of your fantasies? A dream? But the warmth of Shinsou is enough to assure you that you’re not dreaming- this is real, it’s happening and it’s happening now.

A nod. Shinsou smiles and you smile back. ‘’Yeah. I’d really like that.’’

‘’Yeah? Well, we’d like it if you two could stop rambling and finally kiss!’’ Mina almost yells in your ear and you jump, eyes wide. A bunch of people from the party are crowded behind the doors of the balcony, watching you two with grinning faces. Then you feel something tickle your face, and you notice that Shoji’s holding a piece of mistletoe over Shinsou and you. He winks at you, and your face burns. 

‘’You know what that means,’’ Mina coos and steps back, pulling out her phone. ‘’Kiss!’’ 

Everyone cheers and you snort. You look at Shinsou and he smiles, shrugging. ‘’Gotta please the crowd, don’t we? I’m willing to make the sacrifice.’’ You scoff before pulling him into a kiss. 

‘’A real sacrifice, ain’t it?’’ You say between kisses. Shinsou’s hands go to your waist and squeeze it tightly.

‘’For sure,’’ he mumbles. ‘’I’m all for making sacrifices…’’ he slowly pulls away grinning. ‘’...if it means I get to kiss you.’’ 

A/N: I hadn’t written for my boy Shinsou in a while!! Not sure if I capture his personality properly but I hope it’s okay. Do reblog + comment if you enjoy :) Merry Christmas and happy holidays! <3 

-

I do not own MHA or any of its characters. Do not repost, plagiarize, or monetize my content.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Quarantine: A Love Story{1}

Chris Evans x Reader Mini Series

Warning: Cursing, Plot, Angst, Tiny Bit of Slow Burn

Words: 4.9k

Note: Okay, so this ask/request came in and I was all prepped to write it as a one shot, but I had so many separate ideas that sprang to mind for it and from it. As of right now, I am going to play this one by ear. Hell, I might just keep writing it as long as we’re all in our quarantine/self-isolation. So, it might be one part every week, or I might change it. I honestly have no idea, so let’s start with calling it a mini-series and see where it goes. Thank you anon for the request, hope it’s cool I tweak, twist and stretch this out. I hope you guys enjoy this. Thank you for reading as always!!! ❤️❤️ 

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

~~~~~~~~~~~

-Pre-Quarantine, Friendmas, December 2019-

  “Hey, hey, hey Y/N in the house!”

 You rounded the corner with two bottles in hand. Once everyone saw you, they began cheering. Most of them rushed you, pulling you in for hugs and kisses. You smiled and chatted with them all.

“You look great!” Tara shouted above the music as she admired your skirt, thigh high stockings and ankle boots.

 “Thank you, Tara,” you squealed while giving her air kisses. “I come bearing the gift of alcohol!!” Those near you cheered their approval.

 You walked further inside the room that was lite up with Christmas lights. December twenty-fourth and fifth were for the families but December twenty-sixth was for the friends. This was the third annual Friendmas celebration, the day your group of friends got together to open presents, eat, drink and be merry.

 From the corner of your eye you saw Scott’s brother, Chris. He was sitting by the Christmas tree nursing a beer and staring at the lights as they danced. Your eyes scanned his body and took in his outfit. He always dressed so damn fresh and his hair was always perfect. Chris looked away from the tree over to you and you saw his jaw clench tightly. Nervousness overtook you and you took a breath. He sure could be intimidating, you thought. Chris’ eyes lingered on you for a few more moments. Just when you’d built up the nerve to go over to him, he looked away and back to the Christmas tree. So much for that, you thought.

From a few months after meeting him through Scott and interacting in the group of friends that he was included in you could have sworn he hated you. When you spoke he was always short with his responses. They were either one word or dull. When he looked at you it wasn’t for more than a few seconds and every time he looked at you his jaw was always clenched as if the mere sight of you pissed him off worse than his role in Not Another Teen Movie. You couldn’t understand it.

 “You okay?” Scott placed his hand on your shoulder as he stood beside you. You looked from Chris and to Scott with a wistful smile before you answered.

 “Yeah. Let’s eat,” you responded before walking off.

 Friendmas was a hit. The food was delicious, the conversation was fun, the presents were great. Everyone had a good time and that included Chris from the looks of him as he interacted with your friends. He spoke to everyone, well everyone but you. He always looked happy, well that was until he looked your way. He even danced with quite a few people, excluding you. You tried not to feel offended but deep down you were. You didn’t know why he hated you.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~

 -Pre-Quarantine, New Year’s Eve, January 2020-

  You were dressed to kill and more than ready to show just what a fine piece of ass you were. After climbing out of the Lyft your phone rang.

 “Hello?”

 “Y/N, where are you? You’re going to miss countdown,” Scott shouted into your ear.

 “Scott it’s not even eleven forty-five. I’m outside, I just got out of the car.”

“Finally, give them the code and they’ll let you in.”

 You walked to the four security guards. All of them turned and gave you the once over.

 “Diplomatic Relations.” It made you feel half like a loser and half like a spy. The guards nodded, opened the door for you and allowed you to pass.

 Once you walked inside you handed off your coat to the girl there that was checking them and stepped to the railing to watch what was happening down below. The space was filled with those who made it to Boston for Chris’ New Years Eve Bash. You recognized a few of his celebrity friends, men and women alike. Everyone was dressed to the nines and definitely cutting lose. From the top of the balcony you saw where Scott was. Just behind him was Chris sitting with Tara, nursing another drink. He looked up and looked at you. His eyes slowly raked over your body. From where you were standing you couldn’t make out the expression on his face. When his eyes met yours again you could make out the clench of his jaw.

 “You’ve got to be kidding me.” You felt your phone go off and checked it.

 MSG Scott: If you’ve posed long enough then maybe come down here where we are. Only if you’ve posed like Cleopatra long enough.

 You snorted and rolled your eyes. Scott always had the flair for the dramatic, maybe that was why you became such good friends so fast after reconnecting almost two years ago. Slowly you walked down the steps and made your way through the crowd. Before you got to your friends a hand gripped your wrist turning you to them. You came face to face with Sebastian Stan. He had a smile on his face, but even under the ever changing over head lights you could tell he’d had a lot to drink.

 “It’s Y/N, right?”

 “That’s right.”

 He smiled as he nodded and gave you a quick once over. “Wow, what an outfit.”

 “You like it?” You spun around to give him the full view. He smiled and rubbed his jaw as he gawked at you.

 “I like it very much. I can see why he’s so conflicted,” Sebastian muttered. You barely caught it but you caught it.

 “Excuse me? What? Who?”

 Sebastian only smiled before he zipped his lips and walked away disappearing in the crowd. You were confused by what he meant and not sure you’d even heard him right. Over the music you heard your name being shouted and you turned to continue your path to your friends. Once in the VIP are they were you greeted them all with hugs and cheek kisses. When you got to Chris he gave you a quick shoulder hug as you pressed your cheek to his. When you did that you could have sworn you heard a groan before he pulled away and sat back down. It sounded as if he was disgusted, or in pain.

 “You look hot, Y/N.” Scott’s partner complimented.

 “Thank you!”

 “He’s right, girl that dress is going to be the talk of the night,” Tara slid in. You smiled and laughed feeling embarrassment flush you.

 “Don’t be embarrassed. Embrace it, you’re hot! Right Chris,” Scott pressed further. Chris looked away from the crowd and back to you as if he hadn’t been listening.

 “What?”

 “Y/N, she’s hot right!” Scott’s partner had a wide smile on his face as he stood there expectantly. Chris looked at you and quickly looked over your outfit. You saw the scrunch of his nose, the clench of his jaw and the look that washed across his face as if he tasted something sour or rancid.

 “Eh, I guess.” With that he walked away and disappeared in the crowd. You stood there stunned. He’d managed to diss you while agreeing to a compliment. You were stunned.

 The remainder of the night was spent with you drinking way more than you should have and dancing like you had no worries. Every song that played you danced to. You didn’t care if it was Hip Hop, R&B, Pop or Country. As long as the beat was good you could twerk to it. No matter where you were in the room you could see Chris and every time you looked at him you felt salty and that salty feeling fueled your party marathon. You refused to pay him any attention, no matter how many girls he flirted with and no matter how frisky that got. You pretended not to care but for some reason, you cared the ball in the pit of your stomach said you did.

 By the time the countdown hit you were more than a little lit. You shouted down numbers beside your friends and a drink in hand ready to toast to the new year.

 “Five, Four, Three, Two, One! Happy New Year! Woooooooo!”

 You threw your hands in the air and cheered along with everyone else. Those who were there with partners kissed and embraced. You knocked back your drink and turned to go to the bar for another. You raised your glass as you got there and slid onto the stool. It was cold under your thighs thanks to your short skirt, but you didn’t mind. A few feet away you saw Chris and Sebastian talking. You rolled your eyes, crossed your legs and turned away as you waited for your drink. After a few seconds you could feel his eyes on you and it made you more than a little uneasy.

 “I’ve been watching you all night. I couldn’t help but notice you didn’t get a new year’s kiss.” You looked to you right and took in the tall brown skinned hottie before you. He looked familiar but you couldn’t tell where you’d seen him from.

 “What’s it to you?” He smiled and you saw the dimples in his cheeks and you couldn’t help but smile.

 “It’s bad luck to go into the new year without a kiss,” he informed. That was a pretty good line, you thought.

 “Let me guess, you’d like to give me the good luck I so deserve.” He opened his arms and shrugged giving you an even better view. He was muscular and dressed nicely. You thought about his offer and found no reason against it.

 “I prefer to know the name of men I put my lips on.” Again, he smiled then licked his lips.

 “Charles.”

 “Let’s see what luck you bring Charles.”

 You turned to him and uncrossed your legs giving him a slim opening to come closer. When Charles stepped into the space you gave he bent and claimed your lips. What started as a sweet, innocent kiss quickly took off once you released he could kiss. Charles placed his hand on your exposed thigh and teased your tongue. Holy shit, you thought.

 Before the kiss ended, Charles nibbled your bottom lip then pulled back. You were utterly stunned. He was literally tall, dark and handsome and could kiss like no one’s business. When you looked at him again he smirked telling you he knew just what a quadruple threat he was.

 “So tell me, what kind of luck did I bring?”

 “The best kind, but I might need more to carry me through the year.” He smiled and nodded. From behind him you saw Sebastian and Chris watching. The look on Chris’ face was one that was not amused. His jaw was clenched and eyes steely cold. You didn’t think anything of it though. After downing your drunk, you nodded to Charles as you stood and walked away.

 You rang in New Year’s with a bang that night, courtesy of Charles.

  -Pre-Quarantine, Valentine’s Day-AKA: Single’s Awareness Day, February 2020-

  “Cheers!”

 Everyone hit their glasses together before they downed their drinks. After you finished the remainder of the dessert before you. You moaned loving the taste of caramel and the fruity flavors. Once the plate was empty you licked the fork clean.

 “Uh, really Y/N?” You realized all eyes were on you.

 “What!?”

 “It’s done,” Scott declared.

 “I know, it’s just so damn good.”

 “Or maybe you were imagining it was something else,” Scott teased. Your jaw dropped and everyone around you broke out in squeals and chuckles.

 “Wow Scott, just wow.” You reached for the bottle of champagne and refilled your glass.

 “What? I didn’t say anything wrong. Why are you even here? It’s called single’s awareness day. You’re not even single.”

 “Says the man who’s booed up as he speaks,” you countered giving him a cocky look.

 “Where is your boyfriend?”

 “He is not my boyfriend thank you very much.”

 “Oh so the fact that he’s been hanging around since New Years and you see him almost every weekend at your place and you going to his place in New York to get the D just doesn’t mean anything?” Your eyes bugged out. He really just shouted you out.

 “Wow Scott, just spill all the tea.” You stood and began to walk away.

 “I didn’t even spill a fifth of the tea. I can definitely spill more, like the fact he sends you flowers every other day with a note complimenting something about you. Or even the fact that he treats you like a queen, or what about the fact that he stays down south until you’ve come at least three times?”

 You gasped and turned to Scott with wide eyes. You were surprised he was spilling all your business. Everyone else was overjoyed, you could tell from their excited giggles and claps. From behind him, you saw Chris still at the table drinking champagne. He looked annoyed but you couldn’t really tell because all you had was a side profile.

 “Okay Scott enough tea.”

 “No, spill some more,” Tara encouraged.

 “You are not even right, T.” Everyone laughed as you sat in front of the TV more than ready to watch the movie.

 “Can we watch this movie already and stop talking about my personal life?”

 Chris approached the group one hand holding a fresh bottle of champagne and the other his glass.

 “Yes can we? We didn’t come here to hear how Y/N is getting some rando’s D,” Chris muttered as he took a seat. For some reason the way he said that rubbed you the wrong way, but you didn’t reply.

 The movie was some rom/com that wasn’t half bad but completely cliché. Usually the group of you took joy in mocking it. It was tradition. This year was no different, you all laughed and cringed at the movie. Every time you looked at Chris he was silent, he wasn’t bashing or laughing, he looked as if he were miles away wrapped up in his thoughts. When you managed to look away and back to the movie your eyes always found their way back to Chris. On one glance your eyes met and for a second you thought he looked sad, but you couldn’t understand why. As quickly as the look appeared, it disappeared before he looked away and clenched his jaw. You wanted to throw the bowl of popcorn you held. You were tired of it, so you got up and began cleaning up. It wasn’t your house, but you didn’t care, cleaning helped distract you.

 “What’re you doing?”

 “Why does your brother hate me?” It popped out, you didn’t mean to ask it.

 “What? He doesn’t hate you,” Scott corrected.

 “Uh, yeah he does. Have you not noticed?”

 “Y/N, Chris doesn’t hate you. Why would he hate you?”

 “I don’t know, he doesn’t even know me. I’ve never done anything to him,” you explained.

 “Exactly, so why?”

 “Who knows. All I know is I get the vibe he doesn’t like me. Remember his comment New Years?”

 “I’ve told you, you’re reading way too much into it. He was drunk.”

 Scott continued to protest and shoot down every exhibit you pointed to in order to show his brother didn’t like you. He offered a reasonable explanation to everything you said. By the end of the debate, you were still uneasy. It really was bugging you. From the corner of your eye you saw Chris looking over with a blank look on his face then he abruptly stood and walked off.

  -March 2020, 11:00AM-

 MSG Scott: Where are you?

MSG: Home.

MSG Scott: Why aren’t you on your way over here?

MSG: I told you Scott, I’m not coming.

MSG Scott: What! Of course you are, this is serious. People are dying.

MSG: I know it’s serious Scott. I am good where I am.

MSG Scott: Come on, it won’t be the same without you.

MSG: It’ll be fine. We’ll text and you have your boo with you.

MSG Scott: So bring Charles, the more the merrier.

MSG: Charles is stuck in New York. He said he doesn’t want to put me at risk since he thinks he’s been exposed.

MSG Scott: So you’re going to quarantine alone?

MSG: Yep. I’m gonna take a nap, later.

 You were serious. You were not leaving your house. This virus was no joke. You tried to fall asleep but every few minutes you tossed and turned. No matter how you tried, you just couldn’t find a comfortable spot. Ten minutes later you were still tossing and turning and about to give up all together. You heard your doorbell and a bang at the door. You tried to ignore it but the ringing soon became obnoxious and persistent. Rolling your eyes you flung the covers off of you and stomped downstairs. When you opened the door there was Scott.

 “Pack your stuff come on,” he said barging inside.

 “Scott, what are you doing here?”

 “You’re coming, there’s nothing to debate.”

 “What!? No, I told you. I am not going.”

 “Y/N, you know for mental health purposes, it’s better if you weren’t alone. We’re all going to be together there, it’s a good distance away from the hustle of the city, it’ll be good. He has enough room. Let’s go.”

 “Scott no. He doesn’t like me. Why would I encroach where I am not wanted?”

 “Oh my god, he brought up if you weren’t coming. He’s why I’m here.”

 That shocked you and had you looking confused as fuck. “What do you mean?”

 “He sent me to get you.”

 You couldn’t believe that. “You’re lying.”

 “No. I swear. Can we stop wasting time? We have a lot to get done before that curfew goes into effect.”

 Scott walked away and began walking to your bedroom as you stood there still shocked. You couldn’t believe he’d invited you and sent Scott to get you. What game was he playing? Was this pity? Was it him playing nice because of the seriousness of the pandemic? You didn’t know.

 After an hour of packing as if the world would end, you and Scott piled your bags into the car and went on your way. The drive to Chris’ house close to the shore was insane. People were acting as if this was the end of days. You saw more than a handful of people carrying an obscene amount of toilet paper. It never seized to amaze you the ability of humankind to spin out of control in the face of uncertainty. After forty minutes, you arrived to Chris’ house and dropped off your bags before you were off again, this time for groceries and supplies.

  -Six Hours Later-

  “So—what’s the plan?”

 “Quarantine and chill,” Scott blurted out. His partner cheered from inside the house.

 “I cannot with the two of you,” you said while rolling your eyes. You continued to pack away the mountain of groceries that the three of you’d bought over the last six hours. Or should you say fought for over the last six hours.

 “I can’t believe what’s going on, this is insane,” you added. Scott and Zach both nodded.

 In a matter of weeks the world and its operations had been turned upside down. The state of Massachusetts was now on quarantine and ordered inside for isolation in order to slow the spread of the virus.

 “So quarantine and chill with the Evans’,” you announced.

 “Why do you sound so scared? My mom loves you.”

 “I know, just—are you sure this isn’t weird?” Scott and Zach looked at each other obviously confused.

 “It’s not weird. You’re being weird.”

 Before you could respond a few cars rolled up the graveled driveway and parked. Out of the cars bounded adults, children and Dodger. Dodger ran to you and leapt up to you. Happily you dropped to your knees to scratch behind his ear and give him the nuzzles he deserved.

 “Hi Dodger, oh who’s a good boy. You are, yes you are!” Dodger excitedly licked over your face making you giggle. He was the cutest thing.Thanks to the lengthy amounts of time Chris worked, Scott was the one to watch Dodger most times and you’d formed a close bond because of how much time you spent with Scott.

 When you looked up there Chris stood holding several bags with a soft smile on his lips.

 “Hey, you made it.” His voice was low and gruff.

 “Uh, hi, yeah.” Chris nodded and walked inside. Like the obedient boy he was Dodger scurried in behind him.

 “Y/N.” You spun around and saw Chris and Scott’s mother, Lisa. Your smile was wide as you stood to face her.

 “It’s great to see you sweetheart. I’m so glad you came.” She hugged you tightly. It was a hug only a mother could give.

 “Yes, I’m here.”

 “We’re glad. How successful were you guys at the store? It was a madhouse for us,” Carly said.

 “Oh my god it was insane. We literally almost had a fight in the liquor store,” you responded.

 “By we, she means her,” Zach blurted out.

 “There was some guy trying to take the last case of whiskey.”

 “Oh please tell me he wasn’t successful,” Shana’s boyfriend groaned.

 “Nope. I grabbed it, ran to the register and guarded it with my life.”

 They all rang out in laughter. They thought you were kidding, you weren’t.

 “Thank god for that, but we’d rather have you over the whiskey,” Lisa expressed with a rub to your back before she walked inside. As Shana and Carly passed they kissed your cheek and as the kids ran by they each gave you a quick hug.

 The next hour or so was spent bringing in a ludicrous amount of food from the cars to then thoroughly wipe off with Clorox and Lysol wipes to then bring into the house for packing out. When you thought about it, there were quite a few mouths to feed so the amount of food made sense. Chris busied himself with Dodger and the kids in the back. You could hear the happy screams and laughter and it made you smile. Every time you’d seen him in uncle mode it warmed your heart. He was good with kids. He’d make a good dad one day, you thought.

 Once you finished everyone scattered to find their rooms. They all knew where they were going to be but you had no clue. Slowly you wandered peeking into different rooms trying to find where your bags were. Every room you went into you found someone from the Evans clan and your bags missing. After checking the last room in sight and coming up empty, you sighed and stood there.

 “Lost?” Before you turned you expected him to have a frown on his face with his jaw clenched. When you turned you were only half right, the frown was missing.

 “Uh, no, maybe. I um—I was trying to find my bags. Scott and I dropped them off before we went shopping.”

 Chris nodded. “Yeah, I saw them and moved them to your room.”

 “Oh, okay. Uh, can you point me to it?” Chris didn’t speak right away instead his jaws clenched and unclenched a few times before he flared his nose.

 “I’ll show you,” he said just before he turned and began walking.

 “You don’t have to. You can just tell me. I’m sure I can find it.”

 “You’re a guest, what kind of host would I be if I just pointed and made you find it. Come on, I’ll show you.” He continued walking down the hall leading you down the stairs. Glumly you followed behind him as he led you god knows where. When he walked through the downstairs to the back of the house you began to wonder just where he put you. He probably put me in the shed, you thought.

 Chris opened the French doors at the back of the house and walked out toward the pool. After a few moments the pool house came into view. It was more like a mini version of the big house. Chris walked around the pool and to the doors. When he opened it he held it open for you to walk in first.

 When you did it was the perfectly decorated seaside cottage. It was bathed in periwinkle and cool whites with the hint of straw. The first thought was who’d decorated it and if it was a woman. Your second thought was why he’d put you here instead one of the rooms in the house. According to Scott there would have been enough rooms for everyone.

 “I thought it would be a good idea to give you your own space incase being around everyone else was too much. They can be a lot especially when you throw in the kids. It becomes a madhouse,” Chris explained.

 Though he explained you still felt a way. The explanation was not enough. You plastered a smile on your face and turned to him.

 “It’s great. Thank you.” Chris studied you a few moments then nodded.

 “You’re free to go anywhere you want, my house is yours.”

 Again, you nodded and kept the smile pasted on. Chris nodded once and turned to walk out. When he did he shut the door behind him leaving you in the open concept pool house. Your thoughts were all over the place. The more you walked around and took in the décor the more you wondered who did all of this. It was beautifully done and gave off the feel of down to earth comfort.

 When you made it to the bedroom you found your bags in a corner. You busied yourself with unpacking your things. If there was one thing you hated it was living out of a suitcase and from how the news was speaking, this quarantine could be going on for weeks. After you unpacked your things in the drawers, closet and bathroom you took a quick shower before getting dressed again to join the others for dinner. You thought not to but you knew Lisa or Scott would come to drag you inside.

 As you approached the house doors you took a few breaths and walked inside and toward the dining room. You could hear voices in a room off to the side and it made you slow down.

 “You put her in the pool house, Chris?” Scott sounded annoyed.

 “Yeah. I thought she’d be more comfortable there.”

 “She’d be more comfortable, or you’d be more comfortable?”

 “She would. I don’t even know what that means,” Chris responded.

 The silence fell between them for a few seconds before Scott spoke again.

 “Did you think that by doing that you maybe hurt her feelings as you’ve been doing since you met her?”

 Your stomach fell. Scott was going to tell him that you thought he hated you.

 “Hurt her feelings? Scott, it’s no big deal. She has more room to herself. It wasn’t meant as anything. I was being a good host,” Chris assured. You didn’t know if he was being truthful or delivering his line like the professional actor he was.

 “I see through you brother,” Scott said before he walked out the door with Chris behind him. You pretended to just have walked in and looked between the brothers. Scott smiled warmly while Chris looked you over once and walked off.

 You had no idea what that was about. Dinner was delicious, Lisa always made amazing food. You’d been invited to family dinners before and how close they were always made you smile. You admired their connection and always had a good time just watching and listening to them. Tonight was no different. They spoke and laughed nonstop. Chris was a different person around his family. He came out of his quiet shell and talked--a lot. You listened to the stories he told and when his face lit up from laughter you felt butterflies in your stomach. His laugh was infectious, and you were beginning to love it more and more.

 After dinner before the kids were sent off to bed, everyone watched TV and snacked, it was the perfect end to a long day. You sat by Carly and Shanna and whispered and laughed with them. From the day Scott introduced you to them there was an instant connection and they always made you feel welcomed no matter what. When one in the morning rolled around the adults began making their way to bed.

 “Who has breakfast duty tomorrow?”

 All eyes fell to Lisa. She must have known it because she smiled widely. “Fine all my children, I can do breakfast.”

 “Thanks mom,” they all said in unison. You smiled.

 “Good night everyone, thank you for--,” you began before they all made a collective loud buzzer sound.

 “Shut up Y/N, you know we love you. There is nowhere else we’d rather you be,” Scott said making you smirk before you full on smiled. Chris caught your eye, he was also smirking. That’s a first you thought just before he clenched his jaw. And we’re back, you thought again before you walked to the French doors in the back.

 It was a felony for a bed to be this comfortable. You moaned and stretched in the king-sized bed. it felt incredible. From the window beside the bed you could see the moon shining in and that was the last sight before you finally managed to sleep. 

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

***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!

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

TagList:

@titty-teetee @bamakakechick @bellaamore88 @theblulife @sunjashunterbugjohnson @lo-cheu @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @ajspencer1892 @dangerouslovefanfic @alyxkbrl @melaninhawtie  @simplyyamberr @airis-paris14 @ashanti-notthesinger @afraiddreamingandloving @wakanda-inspired @chillavesss @drsunshine97 @cleothegoldfish @builtalongthewayside @theunsweetenedtruth @geeksareunique @aykanna @hanasamara @profilia @ollieveracity @autumn242 @missyperle @sup3rn0va13 @chaneajoyyy @forbeautyandlife @kreolemami @designerwriterchic @theskullgoddess​ @maxcullen​ @disaster-rose​ @bugngiz​ @winchwm​ @jovanaprime @firedolphin04 @academic-glowup @periodtcevans @nova3312 @hello-therree @squeackygee capslut2014 @ilovehatembj @taylorveebee  @thatcrazymarvelfan @oceanscorazon @90sinspiredgirl  @mizcaptainwidow @angrybirdcr @cherrystainedlipsbaby @marvelfansworld @blowmymbackout @almostpurelysmut @impossiblegiantrebelbasketball @choices97  @phreshouttherunwaaayy @heladoom @alyxkbrl @evemej @queensevansackles​ @rosey1981​ @laketaj24​ @munteanhore​ @minton131​ @trillistb @purplehairgawdess @maddeningmayhem @kelbabyblue  @disneysdarlingdiva​ @toniilaney​ @areubeingserved​ @thinkxlovexloud​ @cocothewriter​ 

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Satisfied, Part 10

First

Previous

Next

~~~

The moment she turned in her sketch to Aubrey Bourgeois, the woman set it on her desk and began flipping through some papers. Marinette hesitated for a few minutes, rocking on her feet as she tried to figure out if she was supposed to leave, until she eventually went to the door.

“Marinette.”

Her head popped up.

Audrey finally pulled out a laminated sheet and set it on the desk.

She stepped over to it and her eyes widened. She wasn’t great at reading in English yet, she’d learned mostly through movies, but that didn’t mean she was stupid. The words ‘Wayne Gala’ were written across the top in gorgeous cursive.

Ah, so that explained the sudden rush of orders for custom clothing she’d gotten recently.

Her eyes found their way to the date and she narrowed her eyes in confusion. There was no twenty-fifth month... wait, no, Americans wrote their dates weird. It was in December.

Four months away.

That sounds like a lot of time, but it really isn’t. Custom orders can take up to 2 months to finish on a 9-5 work schedule, and these required pretty extravagant outfits.

Marinette looked up at the woman with an awkward smile. “I don’t see what this has to do with me.”

“I’d like you to make my daughter and I’s outfits.”

She bit the inside of her cheek. She did have time...

Marinette smiled and nodded. “It would be an honor, Mme. Bourgeois.”

The walk home was filled with worry. Of course it was, she had no clue what she wanted to design. She knew that she wanted to go with a yellow, black, and white color scheme for each of them (she wanted to make sure it was within their styles, she could not afford to mess it up). Beyond the color scheme, though...

She dropped into her bed and pulled her computer over, staring at the millions of commissions that she’d gotten over the past few days. She refreshed the page and even more flooded in.

She’d been flattered when everyone suddenly had asked her, she’d thought she’d blown up or something, but this... She should have realized they all had similar deadlines.

She clicked through them, declining order after order, until two remained in her inbox.

Jagged Stone and Adrien Agreste.

She chewed on the inside of her cheek. She could decline. They would understand. But... Marinette didn’t think she could stand to see them in someone else’s work.

She accepted both requests.

Guess she’d take up Tim’s offer for coffee after all.

~

The moment she stepped into the cafe, the barista groaned and rested her head in her hands.

Marinette smiled sheepishly and took a glance around. Tim was there, again, even at the same spot at the window. She wondered vaguely if he ever moved from there.

She walked over to Tim and plopped herself down in the seat across from him. His eyes sparkled with annoyance, until he looked up and saw who it was, and then they crinkled in a smile.

Marinette flopped on the table dramatically.

“What the --?”

“Cooooffeeeeeee,” she moaned.

His vaguely worried expression dropped and he rolled his eyes. As annoyed as he seemed by the girl, he still got up to get her coffee.

When he came back, giant cup in hand, she cheered. She sat up straight again and set her sketchbook on the table.

He smiled and went to his seat. “Didn’t think you would come back this quickly.”

“And miss out on free coffee?” She took a long sip of her drink and closed her eyes. “Never.”

Tim chuckled. “I can’t believe you’re using me for my money.”

She batted her eyelashes innocently. “You said I could. I’d be stupid not to take advantage of it.” Her eyes found their way to her sketchbook and she groaned.

“What?”

“I have to do five outfits by Christmas.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Is that bad?”

“Yes.”

“Decline some, then. Don’t overwork yourself.”

She gave him a look.

He gave a sheepish smile. “Listen, do as I say, not as I do.”

A grin broke across her face, but it dropped soon after. “I don’t want to let any of them down, they’re my friends.”

“If they’re your friends then they’d under --.” He was cut off as a napkin beaned him on the head.

“Stop giving me advice! Let me sulk!”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head slowly. “Fine, fine. Is there any way I can help?”

“Yeah, more coffee.”

A sigh escaped his lips. “I’m going to regret saying I’d pay, won’t I?”

“Yep! Now, coffee, slave.”

He groaned and got up to get her some more.

~~~

Taglist~

@comet-kun @thatonecroc @trippingovermyfeet @swiftie-miraculer13 @nickristus-dreamer @moongoddesskiana @i-am-ironic @indecisive-mess-named-me @thebooki3h @insane-fangirl-of-everything @deepestobservationwombat @theymakeupfairies @fatimaabbasrizvi @clumsy-owl-4178 @fanofalittletoomuch @iamablinkmarvelarmy @nathleigh @lilkymilky @silvergold-swirl @dino-lovingreen-angel

[elsanna-shenanigans]

December Contest Submission #16: The Twelve Days of Yule

Words: ca. 1,000 Setting: modern AU Lemon: lime Content: language, alludes to religious trauma, Christianity-bashing

*

On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me — an entire fucking evergreen tree. That’s Elsa for you, though. She doesn’t joke around with holiday shit. This is our first holiday season as a couple, and the first one I’m ever personally celebrating, so we’re making sure to check off Elsa’s entire list of important traditions.

So today, she drove me to a Christmas tree farm, and now my car smells so strongly of pine, I might never have to buy an air freshener again. All in all, a worthwhile trip.

Wait — when do the “days of Christmas” actually start? You would think the first day would be on the holiday itself, but who the fuck would celebrate for twelve more days starting on Christmas when all of society starts shoving the holiday down our throats before we can even get to Thanksgiving? Well, I don’t know, my sweet little diary, but in this particular case, we’re talking about today, December 12th (which I realize now I probably should’ve put at the top of this page). Oh! Twelve days of Christmas, starting on the twelfth… We might be onto something there!

Anyway, Elsa and I set up the new tree in our apartment and let me just say… It was exhausting work. We got it all decorated though.

We did mostly the old pagan stuff — the pinecones, berries, and strings of popcorn garland — not the excessive modern stuff the Christians added when they hijacked the holiday.

That was my only compromise with Elsa, that we try to celebrate Yule instead of Christmas. Neither of us are religious anyway, so she was fine with making sure we focus on the secular things only, none of the Jesus stuff. And Elsa said no problem, she knows how I feel about all that after my coming out— well, you already know that particular tale, diary.

Anyway, Elsa’s very thoughtful like that. She’s literally the sweetest person I’ve ever met. I can’t wait to see what else we do together!

* * *

Dec. 19

Okay, I know I skipped a few days. You know me; I’ve always been shit at keeping a diary. But I have news! I was researching the pagan holiday of Yule a bit more since we’re going all in, and apparently there’s twelve days of YULE. Which is probably where they stole the idea for the Christmas song, ugh. It never ends. But isn’t that sweet? Except, it does not start on the twelfth. It starts on the solstice, the twenty-first. So we already kind of fucked that one up, but we’re just gonna roll with it.

The days you missed were pretty neat. The 13th, the second day of “Christmas/Yule,” my true love gave to me… two mistletoe! Cheesy perhaps, but we put one up near our apartment’s front door, and one above our bed. I’ve been enjoying that gift even more than the lingering fresh pine scent that day one had to offer.

Day three, Elsa brought home three poinsettia plants which we’ve scattered around the kitchen and living room space. They’re really lovely to look at — I might try to paint one before I inevitably kill them all.

Next, we both had a really busy day at work but she bought us four different drinks to try - classic eggnog, peppermint mocha eggnog, gingerbread flavored cocoa mix, and a little peppermint vodka to mix in hot chocolate. That night we tried the regular eggnog and I really liked it, but she hated it! Ha, more for me, I guess!

On the fifth day, she was running out of ideas so we watched five videos of different people making Yule log cakes. We might still try that ourselves, they looked fun! And yummy….

The sixth day was Friday, so after work we spent six hours going around town to different holiday things, including a horse-drawn carriage ride around the town park! We even had to give them a little velvet pouch of coins for admission like it was the olden days. It was so much fun, very romantic, and we got in very late. And even though we were exhausted, when we got home, she — oh, well, I’d better keep this PG, who knows who might be reading it!

(Btw, if anyone is reading this, stop? What the fuck is wrong with you?)

God, my hand is cramping - I’ll cut to the chase. Yesterday was day seven and we binged seven holiday movies all day. It was a great time!

And today, Elsa was really second-guessing this whole thing. I reassured her that nothing had to be perfect, just being with her was all I needed to have a good holiday season. And then she kissed me eight times in a row and took me out to brunch for chocolate pancakes. God, I love her.

* * *

Dec. 21

Happy Yule! Is it happy? Merry Yule? Blessed Yule! Yeah, that’s it! Or, as I saw online once: Bitchin Yule!

Yesterday was our ‘ninth day of Yule’ and even though it was a Monday, Elsa made it special by meeting me home after work with nine holiday stuffed animals. They were these cute little beanie babies! My favorites were the polar bear and the reindeer. And the little penguin! We definitely did not play with them for an hour like dolls, because we are grown ups. That’d be silly!

Today, we decided to take off from work to celebrate our solstice holiday. We’ll still have the regular Christmas days off too, but today we decided our twelve days of Yule would end at number ten with a big fancy dinner. It’s been really fun, kind of picking and choosing things to incorporate into our own holiday season together. Other people’s traditional things are great, but we’ve found that making new traditions together is way more meaningful!

Elsa gave me a box of ten fancy chocolates for the tenth and final day of our little game, and god I wish I could say I still had some left this evening, but it would seem my self control worsens by the hour. We spent the majority of the day baking cookies and drinking our special drinks.

Well, we did completely burn one batch of the cookies when I pulled Elsa into the bedroom — you can’t blame me! I was trying to thank her for all of her incredibly sweet presents! I know next year we’re going to switch and I’m going to bathe her in gifts for ten days, but I had to let her know how much I appreciated her — I had to show her, and we just got a bit carried away… We’ve been together for nine months and I only just found Elsa’s sensitive spot under her jaw. I mean, the sound of her moans-

Wow, uh… heh, sorry diary, but I have to go. I think it’s time for some dessert, if you know what I mean. Which of course you do, because you’re basically me.

See you next year, on the twelfth!

Very Bitchin Yule, Anna

[reyesstrand]

let your heart be light

tarlos & firefam dynamics / teen+ / 2.6k

To be fair, TK wasn’t sure what to expect for his first holiday season in Austin. But he has his dad, he has his team, he has Carlos—and it’s enough.

@911giftexchange for @teaamfreewill — i hope you enjoy this AJ, and have a happy holiday season!!! 💗

ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3!!

“It just doesn’t feel right without snow.”

Paul looks at him with that ever-present, all-knowing look in his eyes, before letting out a sigh and nodding. “You’re telling me, New York.”

“Like,” TK starts, fully aware that he’s gravitating into rambling status at this point, but he can never stop himself. He rests a foot on the bottom rung of the shopping cart, leaning his weight against the handle as Paul analyzes the nutritional facts on two different brands of steel-cut oats. “It doesn’t feel like the holidays without at least one storm that makes you question your existence.”

Humming in agreement, Paul puts one package back on the shelf and tosses the other in the cart, before hesitating and grabbing a few more of the pale-blue bags before they're good to move on to produce. When there's a comfortable lull in conversation, both of them crossing items off the list his dad's very carefully crafted for the bi-weekly shopping trips, TK lets his mind drift to holidays past.

His parents wanted him to grow up with both the tradition of celebrating Hanukkah and Christmas, but as he grew older, Decembers tended to blur into every other month. He'd always call his mom if he was working late, smiling down at photos she'd send him of her attempts to perfect her grandmother's recipe for sufganiyot, always making his stomach rumble. And, even if she was out of the city at the time, she'd always send him a box of homemade pastries and a card with a lengthy message inscribed inside that'd make him feel warmed from the inside out. And his dad would always make him at least come for a dinner on the twenty-fifth, even if dinner was just takeout eaten straight out of the cartons while they watched the Christmas parade he always recorded.

They were simple traditions, but they were theirs.

In Austin, TK's slowly getting used to calling it home. The snow thing had been the first to strike him, because while he's seen his fair share of strange Texan weather, not waking up to white covering every surface and bitter cold nipping at his skin has been throwing him for a loop. 

"Earth to TK," Paul says, tossing him a bell pepper. TK catches it, rolling his eyes playfully at his friend. "We should start figuring out a place and time for the Not-Christmas dinner."

"Carlos offered his place," TK says, without thinking. Paul just grins at him. 

"That seems to be going well, huh?" Paul asks, hip-checking TK as they walk side-by-side to the checkout. TK feels his face go warm, though he busies himself with adjusting the rolled sleeves of his black t-shirt, printed with the 126 crest over his heart. Paul just musses up his hair before ducking out of grasp for retaliation, sidling up to the cashier and offering his big smile at her while she begins to ring them up. "I'm happy for you, kid. We all are." 

TK does smile at that, because it's the one shining light in all of this. He hadn't been sure what a holiday season with a new boyfriend would be like, especially when every single one of his friends were also friends with said boyfriend, but they've all been relatively tame. No shoving them under the mistletoe yet, which TK guesses is only a matter of time. 

"Anyway," Paul says, and TK sticks his hands into his pockets, suddenly glad Marjan isn't here to poke at his pink cheeks. 

"Anyway," TK agrees. "Carlos did offer to let us use his place, though. He suggested the twenty-second, so that way people could still go see their families." 

"The twenty-second it is," Paul smiles, already typing the date into their group chat, followed by five question marks. Because Carlos thought ahead for these things, TK knows they're all already going to be on one of their twenty-four-hour off periods; Carlos works that morning but will be home by noon, and as long as TK has detailed instructions, he won't have a problem starting the food early. 

A small knot forms deep in TK's chest, even though he knows there's still two weeks before the proposed group dinner. He just thanks the cashier after paying with the credit card his dad gave him before they left the station an hour ago, and they head back out into the sunny, barely-cool, snowless, December afternoon. 

***

TK's just hanging up with his mom, absently kicking at a rock in the lot just outside the bay doors, when he feels someone creep up behind him. 

He doesn't even blink, though, because he smells sandalwood and tangy citrus and is smiling before he feels familiar arms settle around him. He tells his mom I love you, too, and stuffs his phone in his pocket and leans back into Carlos' touch, for half a moment, before turning in his arms and pressing their foreheads together. 

"Did you know you're impossible to shop for?" 

TK grins, and presses a quick kiss to the corner of Carlos' mouth before pulling back enough to look him in the eye. "What a welcoming statement after not seeing each other for twenty-seven hours." 

Carlos rolls his eyes affectionately, and tightens his hold around TK's middle. "I missed you, Ty." 

"I missed you too," TK grins, cupping Carlos' face between his palms and finally closing the distance between them properly. "But I do take offence to that. I'm perfect in every way." 

Carlos huffs a laugh against his mouth and presses in for one more kiss, before scraping his blunt nails against the fine hairs at TK's nape. "Believe me, I know, sweetheart." 

He feels a pleasant ripple shoot through him, and TK's struck again by the fact that he gets to have this. He's close enough to see the flecks of gold in Carlos' warm brown eyes, and he wonders how it's only been three months because he feels like he's known him forever. He thinks of decorating with Marjan today and the sudden pang of homesickness that he couldn't quite explain. 

"You okay?" Carlos asks, because he can read even the most microscopic of his expressions like the back of his own hand. TK covers it up with a smile. 

"Yeah, of course," TK brushes his thumb along Carlos' jaw, before standing back, dragging his hand down the length of Carlos' arm so he could grab his hand and tangle their fingers together. "Come on, I'll buy you dinner." 

"My prince," Carlos plays along, hand over his heart, but there's still a look in his eyes. He runs his thumb over the backs of TK's knuckles, and when TK squeezes his hand tighter, he gets a small smile in return. 

***

They'd realized sometime between Thanksgiving and the first of December that they'd have to celebrate as a team, this year. 

The non-denominational, coined-by-Mateo "Not-Christmas Dinner" idea was agreed upon pretty quickly, and TK is beyond excited to start creating new traditions with his family. But he's struggling, is the thing. He wouldn't ever mention it to anyone because he hates stressing them out, and though he has no urge to do anything stupid because for the first time in a while he's happy—like, really fucking happy—he can't help but to feel like everything has to be perfect. 

It boils down to this: he misses his mom like crazy, even though she stayed with him and his dad for a couple weeks back in September when he was still healing. He's finally getting back on track with his dad, after long nights of hashing things out about his childhood. And he and Alex never did much for the holidays save for giving each other a couple gifts because they could never work out how to spend an equal amount of time with both of their families—which, in hindsight, is yet another element of the two and a half years TK lost to the man he thought was his soulmate—but now with Carlos he just wants things to be special. They already have plans to visit Carlos' mom and sisters on Christmas Eve, and Owen had lovingly coerced Carlos into a Strand family dinner on Christmas Day. 

It just feels like a lot. 

"Hey, are you okay?" Marjan asks, bumping his shoulder with hers as she strolls into Carlos' kitchen. The twenty-second kind of crept up on TK, and now he's here, attempting to hold down the fort while Carlos makes a last-minute trip to the store. His kitchen's a homey space, and, like the rest of his boyfriend's place, it's tastefully decorated with garland and candles and little angel statues that have been passed down through his family. There's a photo of the two of them on Carlos' fridge, pressed together at a pumpkin patch they'd spent a date night at back in October, and TK gets a little lost in the memory. Marjan has to nudge him a little harder to get him to snap back into it. "TK?" 

"Oh, hey," TK smiles at her, and goes back to making sure that the green beans don't stick to the bottom of the pan. She claims a burner of her own to keep her tagine warm, leaning back against the counter with her arms folded over her chest. 

"You're spacing out a bit," Marjan says, and when TK keeps his eyes trained on the vegetables he swore he could handle, she just makes a small noise and places a hand on his shoulder. "You've been a little quiet lately."

There's a pause, where neither of them say anything, before Marjan drops her voice a little and adds:

"Hey, you know you can talk to me, right?" 

"I'm just—" TK shakes his head and bites at the inside of his cheek, turning down the heat to try and kill more time.

He doesn't know how to tell her—and the rest of them—that he's both so thankful for this family he's found and so, so terrified of messing it all up. Thankfully, he doesn't have to; there's a knock at the door and Marjan offers to get it, leaving TK alone with a soft smile. He sighs, and closes his eyes for a long moment. 

***

After food has been served, and gifts have been exchanged, they all sit around Carlos' living room. The conversations overlap like they always do, and TK sits comfortably under the glow of the light from the tree and the warmth of Carlos' arm thrown over his shoulder. He's slowly picking at a piece of Grace's pecan pie, and he knows he should just let himself get lost in the moment, but he can't. He taps his foot at a staccato beat against the floor, and even when Carlos throws him a questioning look and settles his hand on TK's knee, he doesn't stop. 

He finally excuses himself ten minutes later. 

Carlos' place has a nice little backyard area, where they've all gathered for parties and after-work hangouts countless times. It's a little chilly as the sun's gone down, and TK sighs out loud and sees his breath puff out in front of him. He smiles just a little, and kicks his foot against the porch, dropping down onto the steps. 

He's expecting Carlos to come after him; or maybe Marjan, or his dad. Instead it's Grace who settles down next to him, a hand splayed over her four-month pregnant belly. 

"Honey," she starts, and TK ducks his head. His eyes burn, and he roughly sniffs. "TK. You don't have to hide whatever you're thinking from us." 

He takes a deep breath, and scrubs a hand down his face. And then he says: "I don't want to bring down your mood." 

Grace gives him one of her warm smiles. "TK, every day I'm reminded why you and my husband get along so well." 

TK rolls his eyes and gently nudges her arm with his shoulder. 

"Now tell me what's wrong," Grace says, and TK rubs the back of his neck before he starts talking. 

He tells her everything. About how the holidays usually meant bickering with Alex. How it meant celebrating with both of his parents, sure, but also dealing with awkward dinners with their new significant others. About how he hasn't felt this good since he was a kid and he doesn't want to fuck it up. 

"You could never fuck it up," Grace tells him, squeezing his hand that she's been holding between both of hers. TK meets her eyes and finds nothing but sincerity, nothing but the warmth and reassurance that always seems to be there. "Never. And know that all of us in there don't care about perfect as long as we have you, as long as we're all together. Now, I'm going to send that beautiful man of yours out here so you can talk to him, because he's been worried." 

At that exact moment, they hear the telltale creak of the door opening; both of them glance over their shoulders and spot Carlos. 

He moves to leave, lifting a hand in apology. "Sorry to interrupt—" 

"I was just leaving," Grace says, getting to her feet and squeezing TK's shoulder for a brief moment. When she disappears back into the house, Carlos takes her spot, and wordlessly presses a lingering kiss to TK's temple. 

"Ty," Carlos starts, and TK stops him in his tracks with a kiss. 

"I'm sorry for being distant, lately," TK murmurs half against his lips, because even though he knows that Carlos has seen him pretty close to his worst he hates the thought of pulling him down; of making him unhappy. "I'm just—it's been so long since I've had this. And I've never had someone like you. I was so worried about not messing things up that I got in my head." 

"Hey," Carlos whispers, getting TK to look him in the eye. "Please don't apologize, okay? We're all healthy, and here together—that's what matters, right? That I get to have you by my side through it all?"

Could you blame TK for surging forward to kiss him again? 

When they part, TK whispers: "Thank you." 

"What for?" Carlos asks, eyes glinting with confusion. 

"For being you," TK says, knowing how it sounds. 

Carlos shakes his head, moving to lace their fingers together. 

They move in unison to press their foreheads together, and TK whispers, "I love you so much. I just needed you to know that." 

"Of course I do," Carlos says, smiling into it when he kisses TK before speaking again. "I love you too. And I don't want you to feel like you have to—to hide what you're feeling." 

TK just lets himself have what he wants, what he needs in the moment, and it's this: Carlos' mouth against his, again and again. 

***

They re-enter the party ten minutes later, and all eyes are on them when they slip into the living room. 

TK opens his mouth to make some big declaration, but Marjan catches his eye, and then Paul. Then it's his dad who dramatically clears his throat and points above the two of them. 

Because, of course, there's mistletoe fastened to the doorway above them. 

"I hate you all," TK mutters, to which Judd yells lies! and Paul yells something about getting on with it. So, TK does; he presses his palms to either side of Carlos' face and grins at him before closing the distance between them. There's a whoop from someone for effect, and then when they pull apart Marjan pulls him down next to her on the loveseat so he can be thrown into a conversation about fighting mall elves they'd had to deal with during a call yesterday. 

Looking around the room, he realizes he had nothing to worry about at all. And, to be fair, TK wasn't sure what to expect for his first holiday season in Austin. But he has his dad, he has his team, he has Carlos—and it's enough. 

[velvetthunder1999]

All the time on Earth

Part 31 - Lonely

Summary: Even though you and George are on good terms, you feel deserted and lonely. When you sneak out with Fred to get away for a bit, George is mad at you for risking your life

Warnings: Angst, swearing(?)

(Also, I’m sorry but I’ve decided not to tag people - it’s just too much work. Feel free to follow me; I only post this story and you’ll see every time a new part comes up :)  )

Word count: 5.5K

George Weasley x Reader // Fred Weasley x Reader (platonic)

Masterlist

It had been three weeks since George had walked out the door into the rain. For a good four days you had hoped that he’d come back and you could settle everything. But he hadn’t shown up. According to Bill, the twins were fine, their shop was always crowded with customers and they seemed relatively okay.

However, you couldn’t help but suffer. You kept replaying the whole awful conversation in your head, cringing and feeling ashamed. You knew you had rightfully become angry; George’s decision was just as insane as they come. But on the other hand, you also knew that you had made a mistake when you had started shouting at him. Both of you had been wrong, and now both of you were suffering because of it. Well… you hoped it wasn’t only you who had been suffering for the past few weeks.

You had to wait twenty nine days to hear the familiar pop again. You had been mindlessly flipping the pages of a book that you had read three times now, when the sound of someone apparating came from the garden. You looked at the clock; it was too early for Bill and Fleur to come home. You stood up so suddenly your chair almost fell over. You drew your wand and raised it so that it was pointing at the door.

Someone knocked. Then a voice, a voice that you had thought you’d never hear again spoke.

“It’s me. My name’s George Weasley, you call me ginger boy when you want to be cheeky. I call you witty, because you always have to have a comeback to whatever I say and because you’re never afraid to tell me when I’m acting like a true git —”

You opened the door and George fell silent at once. He looked skinnier than the last time you had seen him, and his hair was a bit longer as well. He was looking at you, his face stuck in an uncertain expression, his eyes in doubt.

“Hey,” he whispered.

“Hey,” you whispered back.

The two of you were staring at each other, not sure what to say. Then George casted down his eyes and cleared his throat.

“Can I… can I come in?”

“Sure,” you said and stepped to the side. As he walked past you, you could feel the scent of the shop on him. Fireworks. Your stomach clenched and you closed the door.

“I…,” he started, forcing himself to look into your eyes. “I wasn’t sure if I should come.”

“Why?” you asked, maybe a bit more coolly than you had intended. “Because you might be followed?”

“No,” George shook his head. “Because I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me.”

“Oh. I see.”

Both of you fell silent again. You didn’t know what to say, where to start. You opened your mouth and then closed it. You were staring at your own two feet for at least a minute before you gathered enough strength to look up again.

“George —”

“Y/N —”

You cut each other off and met each other’s eyes again. You couldn’t look at him for long; his gaze was burning an aching hole in your soul. He looked lost, scared, uncertain; he looked like an abandoned child. He suddenly seemed much younger than he actually was.

You tore your eyes away from his face and saw his hands by his side. He was constantly making his fingers into a fist then releasing them again, clearly drawn by anxiety. You sighed. You were sure that in this moment both of you felt the same way.

He had hurt you. Yes. But you had hurt him just the same. You wanted to tell him how sorry you were… you wanted him to know that you had run after him into the rain… that you were still insanely in love with him and that fighting was stupid… You wanted to let him know that he was your everything and not having him around had driven you mad… and you just wanted him to know how much you’d missed him. But words seemed to fail you. You didn’t know how to say all those things… Not when you still had that miserable argument between you… Not when he had said he didn’t want to visit you in the future.

But you didn’t want to fight anymore.

You stepped forward, your eyes still fixed on his nervous hands. Slowly, very slowly you reached out, touching his fist, gently asking his fingers to loosen the fist and to hold onto you instead. And they did. With a sudden breath of air his hand welcomed yours and finally you were strong enough to look into his eyes again.

“I don’t wanna fight anymore,” you whispered. He nodded.

“Me neither, I’m…” he was desperately looking for the words. “Witty, I didn’t mean what I  said —”

“I know,” you said reassuringly. “Me neither.

“I am so sorry,” he said, his head hanging low. “Really, I was… I was a horrible, disgusting prat, who —”

You stood on your toes and wrapped your arms around his neck. Even though the last couple of weeks were rough, you didn’t want to hear him bashing himself.

“Let’s just… Let’s just figure out something, okay?” you said while hugging him. When he put his arms around you as well, the warmth left by his touch was coursing through your body like electricity. It warmed you. “Because I really missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” his voice cracked. You hugged him tighter. “These weeks without you… It was absolutely dreadful. Even more when I realized that it happened because of me.”

“That’s not entirely true…”

“Yes, it is,” he said firmly. “You were right… about the stupidest idea I’ve ever had.”

“Then let’s come up with something,” you said as you let him go, but stayed close while looking deeply into his eyes. “Let’s have a plan, let’s figure out a schedule… Anything. Anything is better than not having you around.”

He didn’t answer at once. You saw doubt on his face. Before he could had come up with anything, you cupped his cheeks and talked in a very gentle manner.

“Love… You saw how these three weeks were… Dreadful as you said. It’s clear that… we need each other. I need you…”

“And I need you, too, but it’s dangerous —”

“I know, love,” you said, still watching your tender tone. “But I think we’ve reached a point where we simply have no other option but to accept the risk. Because this… this isn’t a life. What you’re suggesting is going to kill us both.”

“I can’t loose you,” he said miserably. “If the risk is too high, I cannot…”

“So we’ll make it as low as possible. Seeing you once a month is still better than not seeing you at all.”

“Once a month?” he said. “That’s…”

“Awful, yes. It’s…” you were only now realizing what it meant. “It’s horrible, but… would you be okay with that?”

You stroke his jaw with your finger. He took his time, thinking.

“Or even Fred can come and visit me once in a while,” you added with a weak smile. “I miss him as well.”

George chuckled. You took it as a good sign.

“Yeah, I’m sure he’d be delighted.”

“So is that a yes?” you asked carefully. George kissed your temple and murmured against your skin.

“Yes. Once a month.”

Once a month. Even though it was more than nothing, your smile still wasn’t completely honest. When George left that afternoon, the promise that you’d only see him four weeks later made you want to burst into tears again.

——

And so, weeks had passed. The schedule seemed to be working, it didn’t draw much attention and George said the members of the Ministry and the Death Eaters (which were basically the same thing at this point) did not seem suspicious. If anything, it made you at ease at least.

Every two weeks one of the twins showed up to spend one hour with you, keeping you company, telling you everything that had been happening in the world. And every time they left, they took a piece of you with them, eventually making you feel deserted and empty. You spent almost all your time in your room, barely going outside, not seeing the point since you’d already knew the garden and the small segment of the beach inside the protective charms like the back of your hand.

When you were not listening to the radio listing all the names of people who had disappeared or died, you tried to sleep. Your idea was that if you woke up late and went to bed early, two weeks would pass incredibly fast. However, since you were doing nothing other than worrying, mostly you just lay awake in bed, staring at the dark ceiling, trying to avoid your anxious and miserable thoughts. Oftentimes you grabbed your crystal necklace, letting George know that you were thinking about him; then, you waited to see the crystal turning its color, giving you small doses of relief that George was okay, too, and he didn’t forget you, regardless of what your damaged brain suggested.

Then the weather started to change; the wind was cooler, the days were shorter. December had arrived, marking the beginning of the fifth month that you had spent in hiding. You could count on one hand how many times you’d seen George. By this time you felt both physically and mentally sick. You had nothing to look forward to. Only one hour from George and one hour from Fred per month.

Today was one of those hours when you didn’t feel totally depressed, and it was only due to the fact that Fred was sitting at the table next to you, cutting up a blueberry pie that Mrs Weasley had made. He was rather cheerfully talking about something and nodged you with his elbow when you weren’t paying attention for the second time now.

“Oi!” he said, shoving pie into his mouth. “I’m talking to you.”

“Sorry,” you said and started picking your pie with your fork. You wanted to eat it but on the other hand you knew your nervous-all-the-time stomach couldn’t handle it.

“What’s gotten into you?” asked Fred, eyebrows raised.

“Am I a burden?”

The question burst out of you before you could had stopped yourself. Fred looked taken aback.

“What the bloody hell are you talking about?”

“I just… Never mind.”

“Hey…” he gently put his hand on your shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Sure, that’s why you just asked me if you’re a burden.”

“I meant…” you sighed and put down your fork. “I know I’m not good company. Nothing has happened to me in the last five months.”

“And?”

“And I’m sorry if this obligatory visiting is starting to annoy you.”

“Merlin, Y/N, something’s really gone wrong in your head,” he said in disgust. “You really think I don’t like to see you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Blimey. Did you ask my brother the same thing?”

“No.” “Is it just me, then? Do you think I’m not your friend anymore?”


“It’s not that!” you snapped.

“Then what?”

“I… Forget it.”

“Tell me.”

He was leaning quite close, completely ignoring his pie before him. There was something in his eyes that let you know that he won’t judge you. You turned your head away, picking at your pie while you talked.

“It’s really hard, you know. I know that I’m lucky, and I’m grateful, but… everything is hell out there and I just really wish… I really wish I could do something. Help.”

“You’re helping by staying safe,” said Fred seriously. “By staying alive. I know it’s hard, staying here. I’d gone crazy, believe me. Not leaving the bloody house for months. I’m really proud of you.”

You snorted.

“For what, may I ask?”

“For holding on,” said Fred with a shrug.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Have you told George this?”

“Not really.”

“Why?”

You mumbled something about not wanting to bother him. Fred frowned.

“Well, that’s just stupid. Why would you bother him?”

“I’d rather just enjoy the time he spends here.”

“Y/N…”

“So how’s the shop?” you asked. You didn’t want to talk about your issues anymore and Fred, after staring at you in doubt for a few seconds, let you change the topic.

“Yeah, the shop’s good. Lot of customers. We’re quite busy.”

“That’s nice.”

“It is. We’re working on some new stuff, they’re quite amazing, you’ll see.”

“I wish I could see it. Or just see the shop again. Or just go for a walk, really.”

“Well, take your coat, Y/N, I’m taking you out,” said Fred jokingly. You chuckled.

“Can you imagine? Would be kinda crazy.”

“Yeah,” Fred smiled to himself. “Crazy.”

You locked eyes, staring in silence. You knew you were thinking the same thing.

“It… It would be crazy, though… wouldn’t it?” you said, asking for reassurance.

Fred tilted his head from left to right, thinking to himself.

“Yeah… It would. Unless…”

“It wouldn’t.”

“It’s kinda dangerous though…”

“Yeah, we shouldn’t…”

“Or should we?”

“Well…” you started carefully. “I mean if… we’re careful and everything… disguise ourselves, maybe…”

“Stay only for a little while,” nodded Fred. “Find a nice place…”

“A muggle town, perhaps? Where no one knows us?”

“Yes… Yes I think…”

“That should be fine.”

You were staring at each other again. You dared only to whisper.

“Are you serious?”

“Y/N… take your coat.”

You jumped up from your seat with a sudden wave of excitement. You were going out. You were leaving the house! You were going to see something else than these walls and the ocean!

“We need to get back before Bill and Fleur do.”

“Yes,” agreed Fred. Then he drew out his wand. “Now, come here.”

He examined you from head to toe, then indicated at your face.

“Would you like your eyecolor to change? Or your hair?”

“Should we do both?” you asked. “And I think we should change you as well.”

Ten minutes later you stepped out of the house as someone unrecognisable. Your hair was pink as Tonks’s, your eyes a strange color of purple. You had told Fred about muggle contact lenses, he was only willing to change your eyes to an extreme extend after that. You were wearing a big puffy jacket with green boots, and a scarf that said “Oxford University”.

“I have never heard of this place,” said Fred.

“Well then, great. We’re supposed to be muggles, right?”

He was now blonde, his brown eyes changed to blue. It felt weird to look at him, but the way he talked to you made it obvious that he was still Fred.

“Well, then, woman,” he said with a grin. “Are you ready?”

You looked at the ground as if you could see the invisible border. Your insides were shaking with excitement. You took Fred’s hand and closed your eyes.

“I’m ready.”

He took one step, pulling you with him. Your boots barely touched the ground when you felt yourself twisting in the air, having your lungs begging for air, then it was over and you felt yourself standing on concrete instead of sand. You opened your eyes.

“Where are we?”

You were standing in a dark alleyway between the back of two shops. On your right were some dustbins, on your left lay the street, illuminated by the setting sun.

“It’s a muggle town, er, village more like. I forgot the name but I remember dad bringing us here once when we were little. He wanted to show us the muggles.”

“I see.”

“Ready?”

“Sure,” you said but you couldn’t move. It was so surreal. It was so exciting and nerve-racking. You couldn’t believe it. Fred chuckled, smirking.

“Come.”

He grabbed your hand and started pulling you towards the main street. When you stepped onto the sidewalk, your mouth opened to the sight. The cars were bathing in the orange light of the sunset, a man and a woman were riding a bycicle on the icy road, laughing. Shops were all around the place, offering tea, coffee, bagels and scones. A nice little sidewalk with stairs led to a small lake across the road. Children were skating on its surface.

“You like it?” asked Fred, still grinning. His breath was like smoke in the cold December air.

“I love it. Thank you.”

“No problem, love.”

He bought two hot teas with honey, then you two started walking towards the lake.

“How come you have muggle money on you?”

“You never know when you’ll need it,” shrugged Fred.

You made your way down the stairs, now walking in the snow, sipping the tea. You found an empty bench not far from the lake, where the sun still warmed your faces but you could also keep your distance from the muggles.

“What are they doing?” asked Fred, indicating at the children on the ice.

“Skating,” you said. “You don’t know about skating?”

“Well, look at them,” he said with a funny tone. “Seems useless to me.”

You giggled.

“Just because it’s not quidditch…”

“It doesn’t make any sense —”

“It doesn’t mean it’s not entertaining!” you laughed. Fred frowned in mock outrage.

“Are you laughing at me?”

“Yes, yes I am,” you rolled your eyes jokingly. “Wizards.”

He didn’t say anything but from the corner of your eyes you saw him smiling to himself and shaking his head. He then turned back towards the children. You took a sip from your tea.

“How does it feel being a blonde?” you asked.

“It felt normal until you brought it up.”

“Sorry,” you chuckled.

“Does it look strange to you?”

You looked at him. You squinted.

“It’s your eyes, more like. Not what I’m used to.”

“I’m still handsome I hope,” he smirked. You laughed.

“Everyone can dream.”

“You’re naughty,” he said. “I know I’m not as handsome as my brother.”

“Yeah?” you asked, quite surprised at his statement. Then he raised his head, closing his eyes with satisfaction.

“Now that I’m blonde, I’m more handsome.”

“Yeah, you are,” you said, then covered your mouth. Fred’s eyes burst wide open.

“Did you just —”

“No!” you squeeked. Fred nodded vigorously.

“Yes, you did! You said it!”

“No, I didn’t! I didn’t mean it like that!” you tried to save yourself but the damage was done. Fred laughed joyfully.

“Well, well, dear Y/N, the day finally arrived…”

“Oh, shut up…”

“The day when you admit the truth…”

“Oh, God,” you chuckled painfully.

“Oi, Y/N, what would George say to this?”

“Oh, shut up, you,” you said between laughs and hit him playfully on his shoulder. “You’re never gonna let me forget this, are you?”

“Never,” he said, beaming. “I’ll tell it to my grandchildren one day, let them carry on the story of this fine day, let the future know…”

“Oh, my God, just stay quiet now,” you laughed.

The sun was hanging low now, and the air was getting even colder than before. You’d drunk your last sips of tea and now you were playing with the paper cup, folding it in your hands. Fred was watching the children with interest, every now and then a small smile appeared on his lips whenever a kid did something funny. When the last beam of orange sunlight disappeared behind the hill, and the kids started to leave, Fred looked at you with a soft expression.

“I reckon it’s time to go.”

“I know,” you said. You’d been preparing for this moment the minute you two had sat down here.

“We can come again sometime,” he said gently, seeing your sorrowful face.

“When I’ll see you in a month?” you asked miserably. You turned your head away. You didn’t want to see his pitiful expression.

He didn’t say anything. Still staring at the lake, he put one arm around your shoulders and pulled you into a gentle hug. You let out a shaky sigh.

“I don’t wanna go back,” you whispered into the silence.

“I know.”

You raised your head a little, looking at him. He turned to you, his eyes meeting yours.

“Thank you, Fred.”

“You’re welcome.”

His lips curled into a sweet smile and even though he was blonde, even though he had blue eyes, you recognised him under his disguise. You recognised his mannerisms, the way he looked at you, the way he talked to you, the way he hugged you. All of it made you feel really melancholic.

“Take me back, please,” you said, accepting that there was simply no other way.

You stood up from the bench and walked back to the street, passed the shops and got back to the alleyway from where you started off. You offered your hand to Fred, but he refused to take it. Instead, he placed his hands on both side of your face.

“It’s gonna be okay, Y/N, all right? You’re gonna be fine. I promise.”

Seeing how intense he was, you nodded. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe him so bad.

“Okay,” you said, and offered your hand once again. This time he took it and you felt the familiar twisting and turning again.

You felt the salty air first, but you refused to look around just yet. Behind your closed eyelids you saw the village in the orange light, and the lake with the children. You wanted to hold on to it for as long as you could.

“Oh… Shit.”

Hearing Fred’s tense voice made you open your eyes. Every inch of your body winced in fear. In the backyard of the house stood George. He was facing you, staring, waiting.

“Oh, no,” you said. You couldn’t even imagine the scolding you were about to get. “Oh, shit.”

“It’s okay,” said Fred and gently grabbed your shoulder. “Come inside the charms.”

You stepped inside, keep staring at George in the garden. He didn’t move an inch. Fred saw your anxious face and leaned closer.

“I’ll talk to him, okay? I’ll…”

“No,” you shook your head. “It’s… I’ll do it.”

You started walking, nervously biting your tongue. As you got closer, you could make out George’s expression. His face was pure rage and he was panting. You had never seen him this angry.

When you were only a few feet away, Fred stepped forward.

“George, before you start —”

“Shut up,” answered George, not taking his eyes off you. His voice was ice cold. Fred frowned; he didn’t let it end here.

“Now, listen —”

“I said,” George’s voice was shaking from the restrained anger. “Shut up.”

“It’s okay,” you said hastily, recognising that nothing could be done. You turned to Fred. “Go. Go home.”

“What are you —”

“It’s okay, Fred,” you said. “Really. Just go.”

Fred looked quite uncertain. He was staring for a few seconds, then he seemed to accept your request. He turned to George again.

“Don’t be so hard on her.”

“Leave.”

Fred fell silent, but you could see that he was about to say some nasty things to his brother. Instead, he waved his wand, turned back into his ginger self and walked towards the border. When he stepped outside, he disapparated at once. “What’s this?” said George in a cold tone, pointing at your purple hair. Your voice was really high as you answered.

“Disguise.”

“Disguise,” said George after you waved with your wand and turned back to your normal self. “You two planned this out nicely, didn’t you?”

“We…”

“How could you?” he yelled and suddenly the words got stuck in your throat. You wanted to disappear. “Do you have any idea what I’ve gone through?”

“I…”

“One hour! We agreed on one hour! What do you think was going through my head when Fred didn’t come back after one hour?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered. His fury scared you.

“You don’t know? Try again!”

“That…” your eyes started to fill up with tears. “That something’s wrong.”

“Brilliant answer, Y/N. And how do you think I felt?”

“I d-don’t know.”

“Answer me.”

“W-worried.”

“Oh, worried is not even close. But let’s continue. When Fred didn’t appear another hour later, what do you think I thought?”

You shook your head in tears. George continued, cruelly.

“Nothing? Then how do think I felt when I came here to check if everything was all right but I saw the empty house instead?”

“I don’t know,” you mumbled. Tears started running down your face.

“I thought you were dead!” yelled George in rage. “I thought you were murdered! Would you like to be murdered, Y/N? Look at me! Would you?!”

“No,” you sobbed. George didn’t care.

“Then how could you be so irresponsible, Y/N? How? Do you have any idea —”

“We were c-careful!”

“I don’t give a damn!” he roared. “I would’ve never thought that you would be so careless, so imprudent to risk your own life! Don’t you listen to the radio? Don’t you hear how many muggleborns are killed? Or — do you think it’s just a game, do you think I come here only once a month as a joke?”

“No…”

“I was worried sick!”

“Don’t tell me you wouldn’t have done the same!” you shrieked. “The famous George Weasley would have just stayed put for months, wouldn’t he?”

“I am not the main target of the whole fucking Ministry!”

“That’s not my point!” you cried. Finally, you found your voice. “You have no idea what’s it like, being here, not doing anything all day but listening to the radio listing all the people who disappeared or died! You call that a life? I don’t have a life! I am locked up here, and yes, I should be grateful and I am grateful but I’m suffocating here! And I can’t feel anything but guilt, knowing that while others are on the run I still don’t appreciate enough to have my own room and sleep in a bed every night! You know what’s the worst? Everyone, every single person, you included keeps telling me to hold on until the end, until the good times come but… George, when will the good times come? For how long do I have to stay in hiding? A year? Five? Or ten? What kind of life is that? And I can’t do this anymore… I can’t… I don’t… I don’t know what to do and… I’m lonely, I’m so miserably lonely, I’ve seen you four times in five months and…. and… who says we’re gonna win? Who says it’s a guarantee that we’re gonna get our lives back? Who says You-Know-Who’s gonna loose and I won’t have to stay inside for ever?”

You sat down in the sand, trying to muffle your sobs. You couldn’t believe the amount of times you had cried in the past months. You felt yourself on the verge of insanity. Not because of the crying, no. Because of all the things that made you cry.

You felt a hand on your knee as George sat down, too. His voice was low.

“Why haven’t you told me this?”

“I’m telling you now,” you sniffled. You hid your face into your hands. George tightened his grip on your knee.

“You still shouldn’t have gone out today.”

“I know. Don’t punish F-Fred for it. It was my idea.”

“I’m gonna have a word with him, don’t you worry.”

“But it was —”

“I don’t care. Y/N…” he let out a groan. “Y/N, you have no idea what I felt when I saw the empty house. When I thought… I’ll never forgive you for this. Never.”

“I k-know.”

“Good. Now, listen to me because I’m only going to say this once. Everything’s going to be all right.”

“Oh, shut it,” you sobbed. “You keep saying that but nothing’s all right.”

“I trust Harry.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s gonna succeed.”

“I trust that he will.”

He spoke with so much confidence, with so much strength that it made you feel even weaker than before. You knew you were only a shadow of your normal self and yes, while George was here, telling you all this, you could almost believe it. But he was going to leave as always, leaving you alone with your thoughts again only to appear a month later. You couldn’t handle it anymore. You needed him.

“Stay,” you said suddenly, barely louder than a whisper.

“What was that?”

Your lip trembled as you looked him in the eye.

“Please stay.”

“Y/N…” suddenly his face changed; he looked extremely remorseful. “You know I need to go back.”

“Please…” you begged, tears running down on your cheeks again. “I’m begging you.”

“Love…”

“Please…” you grabbed onto his jacket. You knew you looked absolutely pathetic. You didn’t care. “Just for tonight. Please.”

He gently wiped your face. His touch made you shiver.

“Y/N, I… I can’t…”

“Don’t…” you sobbed. “Don’t leave me alone…”

He was fighting an internal battle. You took his hand, desperately pleading.

“Please… Please, George…”

He took his time examining your face, brushing a piece of hair out of the way, then cupping your cheeks. His touch was so warm, and you missed it so much… Then he kissed you, gently and carefully and you knew that this was goodbye, that this was his way of letting you go without words…

“I need to go home,” he said and you cried. “But… But I’ll come back.”

“W-what?” you said, not believing your ears.

“I’ll come back tonight, okay? But I need to go home first. Talk to Fred, arrange a few things…”

“No,” you started shaking your head. “No, you… you’ll promise but you won’t come back…”

“I promise you I’ll come back,” he said, looking deeply in your eyes.

“No…”

“Do you trust me?”

You didn’t answer. You shook your head in despair.

“Do you trust me?” he said again, more firmly.

You wanted to. You wanted to trust him so bad.

“Yes,” you lied.

“Trust me,” he said with another soft kiss. “Only tonight, okay? This is an exception.”

“Sure,” you mumbled. It didn’t matter. You knew he wouldn’t come.

“Okay,” he said and he stood up. He helped you up, too. “Go back into the house, all right? Don’t leave, you understand me?”

“Yes,” you said, barely audible. He cupped your cheeks again.

“Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you said again.

“Good. Now go.”

You kissed him goodbye, stretching the moment for as long as you could. Then you turned away without meeting his eyes again, and wiping yours, you walked into the house. You could hear the sound of disapparation and you knew that he was gone.

And you waited. Because even though you knew he wasn’t coming back, even though you knew that he had promised only to make you calm down, you couldn’t help but hope.

When Bill and Fleur came home and you had dinner, you stayed awfully quiet. You felt sick and tired, you were exhausted and drained. More than once you caught yourself staring out of one of the windows of the house with tears in your eyes. Finally, around nine o’clock you couldn’t take it anymore and went to bed.

And you waited. Constantly wiping your wet cheeks you waited. Being disappointed after every passing minute you waited. Every now and then you looked at your necklace but it wasn’t glowing. George wasn’t thinking about you. He wasn’t coming back.

Around one in the morning you felt the tiredness taking over your body; you could barely keep your eyes open. It was really hard to accept the truth. You kept dazing off and jerking awake again, just to realize that you were alone, maybe more alone than you had ever been. And this feeling travelled through your body, poisoning every inch of you, and you were hurting, more than you had ever been hurt before.

But then, something happened. You were on the verge of sleeping again, when you heard footsteps on the corridor outside your room. You didn’t dare to move. It was Bill. You were sure. Maybe it was morning already and they headed for work again.

Your door creaked. You raised your head at once and saw a tall, ginger figure entering the room. In the dark, only with the moon shining through your window, he looked like a heavenly presence. You weren’t even sure if he was real or you were dreaming already. But then you decided that you didn’t even care.

He moved. He kicked off his shoes, he took off his jacket. He moved the covers and he climbed into bed next to you. His firework scent filled the room, embracing you, filling up the hole in your soul. He wrapped his arms around you as you moved to rest your head on his chest. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. Everything seemed to fall into place. You felt his fingers in your hair, gently brushing your face. And after four months of lonely nights you finally heard him whisper again:

“Sweet dreams.”

[bethansfandoms]

Heyy, u asked for prompts, i deliver them :) please give me a sirius being thrown out of his abusive house and now living with the potters for a few years, so it's like 6th year or so and sirius calling euphemia( james' mother) "mom". like he will accidentally and just casually call her mom and he's like oh shit i mean euphemia n then she's like " Ohmygodofcourseyoucancallmomyouaremysonafterall" just sm fluff or smth

Your wish is my command! (I’m not bullet pointing this one like I usually do we’re going serious writer mode)

Sirius never went home for Christmas. Infact, the Christmas of his fifth year would be the first time he actually would since starting Hogwarts. It’d be the last time as well. Because at one in the morning on the twenty first of December, Sirius Black appeared in the fireplace of the Potter estate.

He felt awful for doing so at such an ungodly hour. He spluttered on the ash and tears stung his eyes and he stood in their dark living room, heart hammering and breathing rapid.

“Sirius?” James padded down the stairs, his hair even more unruly than usual, rubbing his eyes and yawning slightly.

“James-” but Sirius couldn’t get anything else out, his breathing was too frantic and his head was spinning and he wanted to apologise for waking him and intruding like this and he wanted to explain what had happened but he just couldn’t.

“Mum! Dad!” James shouted up the stairs. Euphemia was the first down, a light blue dressing gown wrapped tightly around her. She looked sleepy but the moment she saw the state of Sirius her eyes widened and she rushed over him. “Fleamont, healing potions. Now please.” Fleamont had only just appeared in the doorway but immediately spun on his heels and quickly walked in the opposite direction.

“Sirius? What happened?” Euphemia asked calmly. Sirius was still breathing raggedly and his eyes were darting around. “I- I shouted at them and they... they hurt me and I didn’t know where to go and I-”

“Sirius, Sirius it’s okay.” Euphemia reassured. James played with his sleeves nervously as he watched the scene unfold. He felt useless. He had know Sirius’s family were awful but he’d never seen Sirius like this. His hair was as wild as his eyes. He was gasping for breath and he had fresh wounds littering the visible parts of his body. He knew they were awful but he’d never imagined anything like this.

Euphemia was examining the wounds carefully as Fleamont reappeared with the healing supplies. “Sirius. Sirius are these...” she gently touched the side of his face, “are these curse marks?” He nodded. “What did they do to you?”

Sirius shook his head, “I can’t- I can’t tell. They’ll, they’ll-”

“Sirius, you’re safe,” James piped up from the corner. “You’re with us now. You don’t have to go back. Ever.”

“James is right,” Fleamont assured. “You’re not going back to them.”

“Sirius we want to help dear, but I need to understand what happened.” Euphemia’s eyes were still full of worry.

“They... uh.” He could feel his heart rate slowly evening out. “The crciatus curse. That’s... that’s what the curse marks are from.”

Euphemia’s eyes went from concerned to livid. “James, you stay with Sirius. I’ll be writing to Dumbledore and the Black family and informing them that Sirius will be staying with us.”

“How long for?” Sirius asked. “I can leave as soon as I-”

“The room next to James’s. It’s yours. There is no way we’re letting you near those people. You’ll always have a home here.” And with that she strode out of the room.

“You alright mate?” James asked, sitting next to Sirius on the floor. Sirius nodded sadly and bit his lip slightly. He slowly rested his head on James who wrapped an arm around him and let Sirius cry into his shoulder until he was so exhausted he eventually passed out. And it was only then that James let go.

***

“Boys! Dinner!” Euphemia called into the summers evening. The Potters were the only parents who braved letting all four marauders spend their summer. Although their large house and even larger garden probably had something to do with it. The four of them were soaked with lake water and she performed a drying charm on each of them before letting them inside.

Sirius has always loved staying with the Potters. It had been the only silver lining in his usually awful summers. But this year was different. Unlike Remus and Peter, he wasn’t just staying two weeks. He was staying the whole summer. And the Christmas holidays. And any holidays after until he was out of Hogwarts and got a place of his own.

Sirius had always been somewhat of an optimist. But the marauders could confidently say that they’d never seen him look so genuinely carefree. Once they were finished eating, the four boys stood, eager to get back outside and enjoy the rest of the evening. “Sirius!” Euphemia called after them. She was holding up his jacket which he’d left discarded on his chair. He bounded back up the lawn to retrieve it .

“Thanks mum!” He panted slightly, turning to run away before freezing on the spot. He slowly spun back around, mouth open. “Ha, sorry.” He said quickly. “I didn’t mean-”

But Euphemia was already hugging him and he smiled slightly. Although it was admittedly a little awkward. She kept him at arms length when they pulled away. “I- I’m sorry.” He repeated.

“What on earth for, dear?”

“Well... well I called you mum. I just thought you might mind because-”

“Of course I don’t mind! Sirius, of course you can call me that. Besides, you’re like a son to me.”

Sirius nodded quickly in an attempt to not tear up at that. He felt a little pathetic. But he was pretty sure not even his actual parents had ever really thought of him as their son. And here was a woman who’d taken him in and was happy to call him one of her own.

He flashed her a quick smile and headed back to join his friends. “What was that about?” James asked.

Sirius was still grinning slightly. “Nothing.”

James huffed. “Fine. Don’t tell me then.” He pouted.

“Oh don’t listen to him Sirius,” Remus said. “He’s just jealous you’re the favourite child.”

Euphemia came out moments later to see her sons fighting as Peter and Remus laughed at their antics. Then she smiled to herself. Her sons

And they all lived happily ever after and no one died the end

[thank-you-for-the-vampire-money]

GROWN UP CHRISTMAS LIST

link to the sing is HERE

A/N: Last one before Christmas everyone!  Also, I totally forgot Peter Parker is Jewish/Jewish coded and it was too last minute to change so I tried my best to make it work, I’m so sorry >~< please tell me if anything is inaccurate or insensitive and I’ll fix it ASAP

College!Peter Parker x reader

Word count: 1994

Summary: The holiday season is supposed to be joyful and warm!  But Peter can’t feel happy knowing others are suffering.

Warnings: Peter being a bit of a jerk, sadness, mentions of homelessness and illness, a bit of depression/ sadness?

Do you remember me

I sat upon your knee

I wrote to you with childhood fantasies

Well I'm all grown up now

And still need help somehow

I'm not a child but my heart still can dream

  December was a pretty busy season for you and your fiance.  You and Peter had three holidays to plan for that month, sometimes two of them would overlap.  You would both have to go Christmas shopping and prepare for a week of Hanukkah, and of course New Years after that.  It was hectic, but always loads of fun!  This year, you decided to stay with Aunt May over the holidays and celebrate with her and Ned; get the whole gang together!

You rummaged through Aunt May’s decorations, some green and red, others silver and blue, looking for the old holiday pictures of Peter.  It was mandatory you put at least one old picture of Peter up, just to embarrass him.  “Oh my gosh, look at this!” You laughed, calling over Ned and May so they could see.  They looked up from their Christmas-light-untangling to see what you were laughing about.

It was the photo that had been taken a few years ago when you took Peter to see Santa at the mall as a joke.  He was wearing a kippah, an “ugly Hanukkah sweater, and his tallit.  The mall Santa got a kick out of it and both he and Peter looked so happy in the picture.

“I totally forgot about that one!” May cackled, her body moving joyfully as she laughed, “put it on the mantle! That’s too good for people not to see!”.

“Speaking of which, where is Peter?” Ned asked, adjusting his festive Santa hat, “he should have been here by now, it’s been hours,”

“Well he’s got a big grocery list to shop for- two holidays and normal shopping,” you said, putting the picture on the mantle, between the Menorah and Christmas tree, “he was also going to visit MJ,”

  Peter barged into the door, carrying about seven thousand grocery bags, all packed full.  “Little help please?” he demanded, a six pound bag of potatoes balancing on his head.

You and Ned rushed to help him, gathering some of the bags and setting them down on the kitchen floor and counters.  “Are you okay?!” Ned gasped, hoping Peter didn’t hurt himself.

“Yeah, I’m fine!” he snapped, groaning as he rubbed the red marks on his wrists from there the bags were cutting off his circulation.  He pushed past you and stormed to his room, slamming the door.

“... Geez…” Ned hissed, turning back to the groceries to help put them away, “what’s up with him?”.

You narrowed your eyes at Peter’s bedroom door, a little miffed at how poorly he had treated his friend.  “I don’t know… maybe it’s just the holiday shopping- it’s… it’s pretty stressful…”.

 So here's my lifelong wish

My grown-up Christmas list

Not for myself but for a world in need

This is my grown-up Christmas list

  You groaned as you struggled to wrap Peter’s gift- the tape would not cooperate and your wrapping paper kept ripping.  How was it you were being outsmarted by a PS4 that wasn’t even out of its box?  “How do people do this so easily?!” you groaned.

Ned laughed, helping you with the tape, “practice,” he said, handing you a little strip and folding the paper over so it would cover the whole box.

You looked past Ned to see his perfect pile of perfectly wrapped presents.  “Show off…” you muttered, cutting some blue ribbon and tying it into a mediocre-looking bow.

  With soft footsteps, Peter wandered into the kitchen to get himself some eggnog.  That was his favorite part of celebrating both Holidays- he got the best food from both of them.

“Go back to your room! No peeking!” you cried out, shoving his David’s star-shaped stocking under the couch, “we’re wrapping your gifts!”.

He paused mid-sip to cringe.  “Why did you get me gifts?” Peter scoffed, “could’ve spent that money on charity…”.  That last part was said under his breath, but you heard it clear as a bell.

“Hey, you should be grateful!” you spat back, “if you didn’t want anything, you should’ve told me that before!”.  If you were completely honest, Peter had been acting like this since Thanksgiving; bitchy.  You were not going to tolerate it.

He just rolled his eyes and walked back to his room to be alone.

“Don’t worry, (Y/N), I’m sure he’ll apologize once he’s out of this funk,” Ned said, putting a hand on your shoulder.  You wished you could believe that...

 As children, we believe

The grandest sight to see

Was something lovely wrapped beneath the tree

But Heaven only knows

That packages and bows

Can never heal a hurting human soul

  “Turn off the Christmas lights! The Menorah looks so much prettier with them off,” May said, motioning her hand for Ned to switch off the electric lights.

Ned nodded, rushing to turn off all the lights and closing the curtains.  You’re not sure why he decided to do that, it was already dark outside… even though it was only, like, two pm.

May put in the fifth candle in its place, before starting to recite the blessing.  “Baruch atah…. Adonai Eloheinu, Melech haolam… asher kid’shanu b’mitzvotav v’tsivanu l’hadlik ner shel Hanukkah…” she recited perfectly, barely even looking at the cheat sheet she printed out.

The cheat sheet was more for you as you tried your very best to speak good Hebrew… you were not very good, definitely butchering the pronunciation.  You looked over at Peter for some guidance, but he wasn’t even trying.

His lips barely moved as he mumbled the blessing, switching his weight from one foot to the other.  His arms were crossed and in his face, he looked… sad.  Overall he just looked uncomfortable.  Peter loved this part of the night!  It was weird enough that he turned down the opportunity to light the candles, but wasn't even participating.  Was he okay?

  May lit the helper candle from the center before taking it from its stand and lighting the other five.  The flame reflected off her glasses as she smiled, so excited to share her family tradition with others.  “Peter, why don- hey… are you okay?” she asked, cupping his squishy face in her hands, “what’s wrong, peanut?”.

Pete looked at her with sad puppy eyes.  He swallowed his feelings, pushing away from her to go back to his room.  “Nothing…” he mumbled, “if you need anything, I’ll be at my desk,”.

 What is this illusion called the innocence of youth

Maybe only in our blind belief can we ever find the truth

  It was the middle of the night, not a creature was stirring, except for you.  It was cold, it had started to snow, and you only had one blanket, so you were going to the to find another one.  You quietly padded to the living room, only to be startled by the shadowy figure on the couch.

“Holy shit!” you gasped, turning on a lamp, “oh.. Peter… it’s just you…”.

He didn’t even move, he just kept holding the picture he had taken off the mantle, staring at the wall.

  “What are you doing up, darling?” you asked, going to sit down beside him.  He shifted away from you, but it was clear he needed affection, so you gently put a hand on his shoulder.  He let you.  “Peter, you’ve been acting weird, please tell me what’s wrong?” you begged, rubbing his back gently, “I’m worried about you,”.

Peter let out a long, tired sigh, his shoulders sagging.  “What’s the point?” he sniffed, trying not to cry.  Oh, you hated seeing him cry, he always looked so scared and helpless when he cried.  “Why should I enjoy my time during the holidays when there are millions of people suffering?” he sobbed, leaning into your side for comfort, “I tried to visit MJ the other day, but she couldn’t talk because her Aunt is sick, I went shopping and I saw so many homeless people on the street… now that it’s snowing people are freezing!”.

  You heard what he was saying, you really did.  It was hard to enjoy life when you see the world suffer.  But you didn’t understand why this was bothering him now?  He was Spider-Man!  He saved lives, helped people… he was one of the most charitable people you’ve ever known!  “Peter… darling… it’s okay,” you assured him, cupping his face, “you do so much for the world, you can alleviate some of the pain people feel… we can help, we can do something,”.

Tears fell down his cheeks as he looked you in the eyes.  “I know, I know, but…” he sniffed, pulling away from your touch, staring down at the silly Santa picture in his hands.  What happened to him?  He used to be so happy when he was younger… now… he just felt hopeless…  “I can’t stop bad things from happening… an entire galaxy and multiverse of heroes can’t stop bad things… what can I, one man, do?” he ranted, growling in frustration as he stood up to toss the picture back where it belonged.  He sighed again, the wave of anger passing.  “I can’t do anything…” he whispered, slinking back to his room.

 No more lives torn apart

That wars would never start

And time would heal all hearts

And everyone would have a friend

And right would always win

And love would never end

  Christmas Eve, less than twenty-four hours from the most wonderful day of the year, and Peter couldn’t be more depressed.  He drugged up the stairs with his tired feet, exhausted from work.  Damn, why wouldn't maintenance fix that stupid elevator already?  He peeled the red beanie off his head, his curly hair fluffing up from the static electricity as he reached the sixth floor.

“What the hell?” Peter called, seeing the long lines of people in the hall.  All of his neighbor's doors were open, hundreds of strangers were walking from apartment to apartment with plates of food and big glasses of hot cider.  Entire families were sitting on the floor, opening shiny new gifts and little stockings with their kids.

Peter fluidly moved around the crowds of people to get into his apartment, looking for you.  There were still tons of people in his home, lines of people going to the kitchen and back out to the hallway.

“Peter!” you called excitedly, waving your hand above your head from the kitchen, “over here!”. 

He quickly ran over to you, not expecting you to toss an apron onto his head.  “What is going on here?  Who are all these people?” he asked, tying the smock around his waist.

“They're friends,” you smiled, serving latkes to the people coming through the line, “here, take a ladle and serve the beef,”.  He followed orders, still really confused.  “I decided to contact Pepper and your neighbors, do some good this season,” you grinned, yelling over the crowds, “I told them what you said the other day and they wanted to help, so we organized a food and toy drive through Stark industries,”.

A wide smile split Peter’s chapped lips.  “You’re the best, you know that?  You really are,” he shouted, eagerly serving the line.

“Pepper even opened the old Stark tower as public housing!” Ned said, bringing over another pot of potatoes to May so she could continue cooking, “thousands of people will be sleeping and showering there!”

  Peter looked around the room, seeing all the smiling faces coming and going, really experiencing the holidays, possibly for the first time in years. He was so proud of his family, so thankful for them.  This… this is what he truly wanted for Christmas and it was another Hanukkah miracle!

 This is my grown-up Christmas list

This is my only lifelong wish

This is my grown-up Christmas list

____________________

TAGLIST

[beermanoftana]

the spreading virus [arthur, ariadne]

a repost, originally posted in my former writing blog

ship: arthur x ariadne, wolf (oc) x kitty (oc)

warnings: swearing; edited thrice in a span of…a few minutes so mistakes may be present

notes: this is 1 of my 3 inception babies; i was still using a different voice then but nothing else has changed

summary: there’s a virus spreading around, and arthur has to .protect his family before they can read safety

Happening now in Brooklyn…”

“…as President Rodrigo Duterte of the Philippines…”

“In other news, Tom Hiddleston and Tom Hardy team-up with Minka Kelly in a fantasy-filled…”

Whether you want to hear about what’s going on locally, internationally or even when it comes to celebrities, the news you hear on the radio, watch on television or read in the newspaper is the one you make sure to catch. And on Thursday morning, December first, it is no different from any other mornings. People wake up to tune in to the daily reports happening around the world.

And that’s just what Arthur Brandon is doing in the very early morning. The kitchen television is on and he’s currently watching today’s special reports. His ears pick up at the local news, and then listens carefully at international news, but zones out on celebrity news. He’s enjoying his brewed, black coffee and buttered toast.

Aside from the TV and his breakfast, his mind is working on a master plan for the day. He can hear footsteps upstairs and he can cross off ‘get children ready’. Once his wife arrives downstairs, they’ll share their two minutes of honeymoon-esque bliss before their daughter arrives to ask them for breakfast. It’s not a regular day for her; she’s playing hooky for a doctor’s appointment. Ariadne would be taking off a day from work to accompany their youngest. Their son would come down in a few seconds, his bag already filled with yesterday’s homework. Arthur would remind him about his inhaler and the younger man would roll his eyes and say, “yes, Dad”.

After a few short conversations, breakfast is over and they’re all ready to pile in the car. Drop Casey off, bring Ariadne and Spencer to the hospital and then it’s his turn to go to work. The day will be just like any other day, he thinks.

“Morning, Arthur,” Ariadne greets as she enters the kitchen. “Anything happening on the news?”

“None that we should be alarmed about,” he replies. They meet halfway and he kisses her. She returns it with much glee. “How’d you sleep?” he asks her, his hands now on her waist.

She gives him a crooked smile. “It scares me when it’s time for the kids’ annual check-ups. They’re going to go in fine—”

“And come out with something serious,” Arthur finishes. “I know, I worry about that, too.” He brings her close and assures her, “Spencer is going to be fine. She’s a healthy girl.”

Speaking of, the young girl arrives in the kitchen with a beam on her face. “Good morning, Daddy. Good morning, Mommy.”

“Good morning, Sweetheart. You seem more cheerful than usual,” Ariadne observes with a quiet laugh. “Is it because you’re skipping school today?”

Spencer giggles as she sits on the stool of the counter. “An excused absence!”

“Don’t be too proud of yourself, little missy,” Arthur teases. “It isn’t fun anymore when you’ve missed lessons and don’t know how to answer your school work properly in the future.”

The young girl sighs dramatically and raises her palms to her cheeks, “Oh, Daddy, you’re the one who keeps saying I’m smart.”

Arthur smiles and moves to kiss her forehead. “That you are, my princess.”

Footsteps approach the kitchen and Arthur doesn’t even have to guess who it is. The eldest of the Brandon children has arrived with his blue backpack behind him. “Morning!” he greets. The three initial Brandons return his cheerful 'morning’ as he slides beside his sister. Just as Arthur predicted, after reminding his son about his inhaler, Casey says “yes, Dad,” with a roll of his eyes. “Your birthday is almost nearing, Spencer.”

“Yeah!”

Ariadne smiles as she sets Casey’s plate in front of him. “What do you want?”

As soon as their mother is out of hearing range, Casey whispers in his sister’s ear. Spencer nods excitedly. “A puppy!”

Arthur and Ariadne look at each with twinkles in their eyes. “Oh really? Do you really want that, Spencey?” Arthur asks.

“I do! I do!” the young brunette replies. “And Casey does, too!”

“Spencer!” Casey shushes her.

About twenty minutes later breakfast is over, dishes are washed and everyone is ready to pile up into the car. Arthur gets into the driver’s seat while Ariadne sits on the passenger seat. Casey and Spencer get into their respective sides in the back seat, Casey behind Ariadne and Spencer behind Arthur. “Seatbelts,” their father reminds. When everyone is ready, Arthur starts the engine and the four begin their journey to their daily endeavors.

The traffic jam turns out to be horrible today. Arthur fears that Casey would be late for school, Ariadne assures him that there’s always a first for everything. Stuck in the city, Casey and Spencer decide to play a childhood game wherein their parents have to guess what they are thinking about. They are now on the fifth round and the adults have yet to guess what the children are thinking.

“Can you keep it as a pet?” Ariadne asks.

“Maybe,” Casey says with a slight shrug. “Possibly.” Spencer nods in agreement. “Dad?”

“So you can see it in the pet store?”

“Nope.” Spencer shakes her head.

Ariadne bites her bottom lip in thought. “Tricky. So it can be a pet but it can’t be found in the pet store…so it’s in the zoo!”

“Yes!” Spencer cheers.

Arthur nods as he steps on the gas pedal but not moving more than ten inches. “When you meant keep it as a pet, did you mean that it is a pet in the zoo?”

Casey replies, “You can also keep it in the house.”

Ariadne sighs. “Alright, I’m ready to use my one and only answer.” Casey and Spencer eagerly coax her. “Some sort of sea animal? A shark, maybe?”

“Wrong!” the kids yell with glee at the same time. If Arthur doesn’t get it, the score would be three-two. Guess who’s winning. “It’s not that, Mom,” Casey says. “Although good guess. That was what we were almost thinking.”

“Your turn, Daddy.”

Frustrated with the traffic jam and partly bored with the childhood game, Arthur shrugs and says, “I give up. What is it?”

“A wildcat!” Spencer announces. “We win! Casey and I win!”

“Oh, I see,” Arthur murmurs. He’s now interested in the commotion happening in front of him. Two men have begun arguing, one man who had stayed in his lane while the other had tried to overtake him from another lane. As he was watching intently, thinking of plans on how to get out of the scene in case anything will happen, an NYPD officer in a motorcycle zooms past their car with much force that they broke the side-mirror. “What the—”

“And he’s just going to run away!?” Casey demands

“Stay inside,” Arthur commands as he unfastens his seatbelt and unlocks the door.

“Be careful,” Ariadne tells him

Arthur steps out of the vehicle and walks the short distance to where the side-mirror landed. He’s cautious about the men who are still arguing with one another. As he picks up the damaged part the driver from the car beside him asks if he’s all right. “Good, just…” Arthur shows the side-mirror to him, “poor thing.” The driver gives a crooked smile before nodding. Arthur returns the nod before returning inside the car. “That went well.”

Just then, another NYPD officer in a motorcycle arrives and stops right beside their car. “Stay inside! Stay inside! Do not—” He is unable to continue his sentence as he is hit by a speeding (or as fast as it could get) truck. Casey immediately covers Spencer’s eyes. Ariadne and Arthur look at each other in shock.

“Daddy, what’s going on?” Spencer asks, eyes still covered by her brother’s hands. “What happened to that man?”

Arthur doesn’t answer. Instead, he looks out the window and sees people screaming and running around. The two men in front had stopped arguing and are now back inside their cars, honking away. The driver beside them had run away, leaving his side of the door wide open. Arthur feels Ariadne’s hand hold onto his elbow. “The children,” is all she says. He nods in understanding. He’ll get them out, he’ll get them safe. Suddenly, another truck passes by them and Arthur notices that it’s making a path way for itself. He re-fastens his seatbelt and says, “Hold on tight.”

Casey lets go of his sister and holds onto the seat. Spencer looks at him before copying his movements. Ariadne holds on to the door. Arthur steps on the gas and follows the truck wherever it passes by. This goes on for a good few minutes but once he hits the intersection, Arthur doesn’t see a car to his left. They crash and for a moment, everything is black and blurry for him.

“Ariadne,” he manages, “the kids…” He looks to his right and sees Ariadne trying to calm the children down. She’s holding onto her temple meaning she may have a bump. But as parents, their first priority will always be the children. “We have to get out,” he says softly. “Have to find…someplace safe.” Ariadne unbuckles her seatbelt and opens her door. Arthur gathers up his energy before doing the same, thinking that the kids should be safe. He opens Spencer’s door and unfastens her seatbelt. “Are you okay, Spencey?”

“Yes, Daddy,” she replies, “I’m okay.” She puts up a brave front.

He picks her up and places her on his hip. On the other side, Ariadne is caressing their son’s hair, probably to calm him down. At the corner of his eye, he sees people running away and screaming, not much of a different sight from earlier.

However, this time, he sees a man acting strangely. He’s running towards the people as if he’s about to attack them. He watches closely. The strange-acting man aims for a van not far away from him. He tries entering the van but the people had locked themselves in. To Arthur’s surprise, the man jumps to the front and tries to break the windshield. After a few attempts, he is successful and drags the driver out before…biting him? Arthur’s eyes widen. He bit the driver. At the back of his head, he began to count…

'One Mississippi…’

“Arthur, we have to go!”

'Two Mississippi…’

'Three Mississippi…’

It’s not until the third second that the bitten man begins to have a seizure.

“Arthur!”

'Four Mississippi…’

The man begins to stand.

'Five Mississippi…’

'Six Mississippi…’

His seizure continues.

'Seven Mississippi…’

“Arthur, let’s go!”

'Eight Mississippi…’

'Nine Mississippi…’

“Daddy!”

'Ten Mississippi…’

His head twists and turns.

'Eleven Mississippi…’

He growls.

'Twelve Mississippi!’

Attacks.

“Arthur!”

Arthur jumps out of his thoughts and turns to see Ariadne holding onto a heavy breathing Casey. He looks around for a way to escape. “There!” He points towards a heavy van. “Get in there!” The family begins to run. But all the while, Arthur watches what the bitten man is doing. Once they reach the van, he searches for the keys and fortunately, they’re still in. Just as he is about to start the engine, a woman attacks them and is forcing her way inside through the open window. Arthur does his best to ignite the engine. When it does, he drives a little recklessly, hoping to throw out the woman. But to his surprise, Ariadne kicks the attacker and they are, at last, pretty safe.

As they enter the highway, Ariadne moves to the back of the van to stay with Casey, whose breathing intensified. After a few minutes, she calls her husband to pull over so that she could look for his medicine. Arthur stays with his son as Ariadne searches through Casey’s backpack. “There’s only one in here, the extra one is in my purse…shoot, I left it in the car in a hurry to leave.”

“It’s alright,” Arthur tells her. “We’ll figure this out. The one we have now will have to do.” Arthur kisses Casey’s forehead as he moves back to the driver’s seat now that Ariadne has taken over once again. “Are you okay there, Spencey?”

Spencer, who had been going around the van, nods and says, “Yes, Daddy. Look what I found!” She comes out of the cabinet she had been looking at and reveals a Remington 700 BDL rifle.

Arthur immediately stands to go to her. “Whoah, whoah, whoah! Be careful with that.” He takes the dangerous weapon away from his daughter and places it on the passenger seat. Must be a hunter’s van, he wonders. When he sees Spencer back on her seat, he sits on the driver seat again, ready to start the engine. But just then, there is a vibration going on in Arthur’s pocket and he realizes someone’s calling him. He looks at the screen and sees a familiar name. “Hello?”

“Are you with your family?”

“Yes.”

“Are you safe?”

“For now.”

“Good. We’ll pick you up as soon as we can.”

“You mean, you can’t pick us up now?”

“I’m afraid not. We have some…issues. The earliest we can is sunrise.”

Arthur sighs. “Better than nothing.”

“Find some place safe for the night and we’ll get you once we can, I promise.”

“Alright.” When they end the call, Ariadne asks who was on the other line. “It’s Dom,” he answers.

Ariadne looks at him. “And?”

“He’ll pick us up as soon as he can. But that won’t be until sunrise. We need to get supplies.” He revs up the engine and moves forward. “We’ll find a supermarket or something along the way.”

It takes them an hour to find a grocery store. Unfortunately, word must have gone out and there are people rushing in and out of the place. Arthur stops the engine and grabs the keys. As he is about to go down he remembers the rifle and looks at it for a second before deciding to take it with him. The whole family rushes inside the store and Arthur takes Casey’s hand. “We’ll find the medicine.”

“I’ll get as much supplies as we can,” Ariadne says. She picks up Spencer and places her inside the nearest pushcart she can find. “If we don’t find each other we’ll meet back here, alright?”

“Okay.” Arthur nods. They separate and Arthur and Casey head to the pharmacy. Once they’re there, Arthur immediately looks for albuterol.

“Dad,” Casey calls out, his voice shaking.

Arthur looks up and sees a twenty-something junkie holding a gun. When he looks behind the younger man he sees the pharmacist dead on the ground. Arthur shields his son with his own body. “Hey.”

“What are you looking for?” the young man asks.

“Albuterol,” Arthur replies.

The junkie nods towards Casey. “For him?”

“Yeah.”

Without a word, the younger man moves behind the desks and grabs a few packs of medicine. He walks to Arthur and hands him what he has. “Take it.”

Arthur grabs the medicine and says “thank you”. Before he could ask more questions he hears a familiar scream. “Spencer!” he calls out. He turns around and sees the pushcart his daughter is in just a few feet away from him. Ariadne is nowhere near her. Arthur brings Casey to his little sister and he drops the medicine in the cart. “Where’s Mommy?” he asks.

“Arthur!”

“Stay here,” Arthur instructs Casey. He then sees Ariadne being assaulted by two men not far from them. “Hey! Hey!” Arthur aims his rifle at them and successfully shoots one of the two. Distracted by his companions injury, Ariadne gets the chance to escape and runs to her husband. When the uninjured assaulter realizes that Ariadne is gone, he turns out to also have a gun, a SIG-Sauer P229, and starts shooting at the couple. Arthur shoots at his leg. A cop from one of the aisles appears and Arthur raises his hands to surrender…but the cop jogs past them and begins collecting his own supplies. Arthur and Ariadne look at him then at each other before returning to their children.

Once they have gathered all the supplies and placed them in the bags that they had gotten they leave the grocery store.

“Where’s the van?” Casey asks.

“What?” Arthur looks up to where they left the van and sees that it’s gone. “Shit,” he mutters under his breath. “Someone must have hotwired it.”

“We didn’t leave anything important, did we?” Ariadne checks to see Casey and Spencer carrying their bags and Arthur nodding. She looks around and spots a building some kilometers away. “Arthur.” She points at it.

Arthur holds on to Spencer who holds onto Casey while he grabs onto his mother. He reaches for his phone and calls Dom. “Cobb, we’ll be in the Aero building. Yeah…still here in Brooklyn, yes…we’ve got flares, that’ll be our signal tomorrow…alright, alright.”

The four continue running towards their destination, dodging people who are trying to attack them. As they near the building one of the attackers aims for the children. Arthur doesn’t bother to think, he just aims the rifle at the incoming intruder and shoots him. Without wasting a second the family runs inside but they are chased by another group. They run up the stairs looking for an open door. Luckily, a door on the fourth floor is open and Ariadne ushers the kids inside while Arthur holds off the monsters.

“Arthur, get in here!”

He quickly kicks the one he had been fending off and rushes inside, closing and locking the door behind him. Panting, Arthur checks on his family and notices one member is missing. “Where’s Spencer?”

“Please let me in!”

Arthur and Ariadne look at each other before running to the corner of the hallway. They see Spencer standing in front of a door and calling for the people inside to let her in. “Spencer!” her parents call out.

When they reach her, the door opens and they see a man not older than Arthur with curly brown hair. A woman, almost the same age, with tan skin and long dark hair is behind him. “Get inside,” the man orders, “hurry!”

Spencer runs inside as Ariadne follows. Casey is a little hesitant but Arthur ushers him inside. “Dad,” is all he says.

“I’ll take care of it,” the father assures the son. Casey nods and hurries inside with Arthur.

Once inside, the man locks the door and pushes a heavy cabinet to block it. Arthur doesn’t think it will hold but it will do for now. The woman disappears into a room and comes out a minute later with glasses of water. “You must all be thirsty from running,” she says and hands each Brandon member a glass. “Here, it’s cold.”

“Thank you,” Casey and Spencer say in unison.

“Thank you,” Ariadne follows with a smile.

Arthur gives a tight smile before drinking from his glass.

“Are you all okay?” the man asks.

Arthur grunts. “We’ve been better.”

The woman leads them into another room—the dining room—and gives the children some food. “I made these this morning,” she says as she puts the plate down. Chocolate chip cookies. “Dig in.”

“Thank you, miss!” Spencer says with enthusiasm. She gets a cookie and bites into it with great gusto. “This is delicious!”

The man, presumably the head of the house, looks to both Arthur and Ariadne. “Please, make yourselves at home. I can tell you’ve been running around the whole day.”

Arthur gives him a glance. “Thank you for bringing us into your home.”

“It’s no problem.”

After a minute of silence, the woman clears her throat. “How rude of us, we haven’t introduced ourselves. My name is Katharine, but you can call me Kitty.”

“Kitty!” Spencer gasps.

“Ms. Kitty,” Ariadne corrects. She gives Kitty a small smile before introducing herself. “I’m Ariadne. This is my daughter Spencer, and my son Casey.”

“Hello,” Kitty greets. “You look the same age as my son,” she pats Casey’s head.

“My name is Arthur.”

“And I’m W—Cirian.”

“You can call him Wolf,” Kitty says with a huge smile.

Wolf chuckles. “I suppose.”

“You mentioned you have a son,” Ariadne says. “Is he here?”

Kitty nods. “Yes, he’s in his room. He’s quite scared.”

After talking a bit, Casey and Spencer succumb to their exhaustion and Wolf and Kitty offer their bedroom to them. Ariadne politely declines but the husband and wife would not take no for an answer. Arthur and Wolf get to know one another while Kitty and Ariadne bond. Arthur and Wolf both don’t say much about their lives but they can tell that they can trust each other. Meanwhile, Kitty and Ariadne talk about their children.

Arthur excuses himself to check on his children. When he enters the master bedroom, he sees Casey asleep but Spencer nowhere to be found. Assured that she’s just somewhere around the house, he begins to search for her. He enters another room and sees his daughter sound asleep on a blue-covered bed. A young boy is watching over her.

“Are you her father?” he asks when he notices Arthur come in.

“Yes. And you are?”

“Liam,” he answers. “She came into my room wanting to talk to someone. She fell asleep. I decided to watch over her.”

Arthur smiles. “Thank you.”

The next morning the Brandons are preparing to leave. Arthur borrows a knife and tapes it to the edge of the rifle, copying a bayonet. Wolf, Kitty and Liam are watching them. Spencer, who had been staying close to Liam, turns to him and says, “Come with us.”

“Where are you going?” he asks.

“I don’t know. But somewhere safe. Daddy was talking to Uncle Dom.”

Arthur looks at the family in front of him. “Come with us. It’ll be much safer.”

Wolf looks at Kitty. “We’ll be a burden.”

“No,” Ariadne intervenes. “Come with us, please.”

“If you need to pack anything, hurry,” Arthur orders. Wolf and Kitty don’t need to be told twice. Kitty brings Liam with her to the master bedroom while Wolf removes the rug on the floor, revealing a secret door. Arthur watches him. After rummaging through, Wolf reveals he had a Benelli Supernova Tactical hidden beneath. As he readies the weapon, Arthur notices a familiar tattoo that was hidden by the long-sleeved shirt Wolf was wearing. Arthur usually hides his with a watch. Arthur smirks. “You never said you worked for Avalanche.”

“You never said you owned it,” Wolf says, mirroring his smirk.

When everyone is ready and Arthur briefly explains to them that Avalanche will send a rescue team for the family, Wolf and Arthur move the cabinet away. Quietly, the two families move to the fire exit, careful not to attract any of the attackers. Reaching the stairs without any problems, Arthur and Wolf have a silent agreement that one should be up front and another as the tail. Wolf ends up at front since he knows the place more.

Unfortunately, as they near the top of the stairs, one monster appears and begins to chase them. “Go, go, go!” Arthur commands. The families run up as quickly as they can. Arthur gets stuck on the second flight and tries to fend off the attacker. Saliva begins to drip down to his shirt and Arthur fears this could be another way to make him turn. There’s a bang and Arthur looks up to see Wolf aiming his Benelli at the fallen one. “You good?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? Come on, let’s go.”

Arthur stands and makes his way up the stairs. He can smell the smoke of the flare but once he Wolf lock the door, he heads straight for the edge and begins counting to twelve. He can hear his family calling out for him but he’d rather fall than make them kill him. “One thousand and ten…one thousand and eleven…one thousand and twelve…” Everything is normal. He stays for a few more second before returning to the group.

“What’s wrong?” Ariadne asks.

“DNA,” is all he replies. He hears a chopper flying by and he’s sure it’s the one sent by Avalanche.

“Haven’t seen that in a while,” both Arthur and Wolf say.

Suddenly the door begins to bang and more attackers are breaking through the small glass. Arthur hopes that the chopper would hurry. His hopes don’t come true as the door is broken the monsters start aiming at them. Wolf and Arthur shield their families and ready their rifles. Luckily, the people on the chopper start firing and they’ve hit more than the two men could. The chopper finally lands on the roof and the two families enter without hesitating.

“Go!” Arthur instructs Wolf. Once he’s inside, Arthur makes a run for it and climbs the chopper. The soldiers inside fend off the remaining attackers as they ready for takeoff.

Once up in the air, everyone relaxes. One of the soldiers removes their sunglasses and sighs. “This is not how I planned a family reunion would be.”

“Uncle Edward!” Casey and Spencer shriek.

“And there are my two favorite godchildren.” He smiles.

“Edward,” Arthur calls him.

“Hey, big bro.”

It takes about an hour to reach the base, and when they do, the one and only Zobedja Brandon greets them. Dom Cobb is on his side. The soldiers help the children and the women off the chopper and Arthur and Wolf look around a bit to see what they had been missing. Spencer grabs Liam’s hand and they run towards the older man in charge. Casey is uncomfortable with how close his sister is to the boy.

“Grandpa! Grandpa!” Spencer calls out.

Zobedja crouches down and engulfs his granddaughter in a hug. “I’m so glad you’re safe. I love you, Spencer.”

“I love you, too, Grandpa.” When she squirms away from him, she introduces Liam to the older man. “This is Liam, he’s my best friend.”

“Hello, Liam.”

“Hello, sir.”

Casey is now on the other side of Spencer and he greets his grandfather. “Grandpa.”

“Casey.” This time Zobedja hugs him. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Arthur and Ariadne follow, with Wolf and Kitty not far from them. Edward jogs to his father’s side. “Dad,” Arthur says. “Thank you.”

Zobedja smiles. “It’s no problem.” He turns to his other son and tells him to lead the women and children to their rooms. Edward nods and asks them to follow him. Wolf wonders why he’s still here. “It’s good to see you again, Mr. Guillory. I see you and Ms. Hart have been busy.”

“She’s Mrs. Guillory now.”

Zobedja chuckles. “I see.”

“What’s happening, Dad?”

“I need your help, Arthur. You’re the best researcher out there and only you can help us figure out a way to know and solve this problem.”

“You mean, no one knows how this started?”

“There have been theories, but none has been proven. Adam has been trying to figure it out what’s happening.”

“Dr. Eames?” Wolf clarifies.

“Yes.” Zobedja nods. “But he needs more samples and he needs to know the root cause before he can help make a cure…if it’s possible.”

“What do you need?” Arthur asks.

Zobedja sighs. “I need you, Adam, and now that you’re here Cirian,” he nods to the other man, “to fly to South Korea. That’s where the first known zombie,” he clears his throat, “or patient zero, was said to be.”

Arthur and Wolf look at each other and give the commander a nod.

tagging: @angel-cap

[luckylq50-blog]

This equipment features compression block technology

The link to BBC is great because I can see the entire video you are talking about and see all the journalistic qualities you pointed out. However as said in a previous post a link to a new window would be a bit more user friendly. I think perhaps you could have been a bit more explicit in your tone in terms of displaying your opinion.

Cheap Jerseys from china A tape was released on December 27 showing a gaunt, unwell Bin Laden, prompting an unnamed White House aide to comment that it could have been made shortly before his death. On CNN, Dr Sanjay Gupta commented that Bin Laden left arm never moved during the, suggesting a recent stroke and possibly a symptom of kidney failure. According to Pakistani President Musharraf, cheap jerseys Bin Laden required two dialysis machines, which also suggests kidney failure.  Cheap Jerseys from china

wholesale jerseys from china I was able for 80 minutes if so called or whatever happened, I was ready for that.only surprise in it was that it was Marc ( S that came on. That was the only thing that was confusing me. I was taken off, it happens. The NBA should not allow any uniform changes as an avenue to deal with any off the court controversies. They are ready to ship once you shop here. We bend ourselves to perfect quality, competitive marketing prices, good services.  wholesale jerseys from china

cheap nfl jerseys They come in a variety of standard colors like white, walnut, blue, green, red and basic black colored frames. A standard ready made shadow box can be found in either a rectangular or square frame shape with depths ranging from " to 1 ". https://www.wholesalejerseyslan.com/ You can also have a shadow box frame custom made if you want a unique shape or depth (up to 7" deep).  cheap nfl jerseys

Cheap Jerseys free shipping For new consultants who are, nevertheless, experienced in business, there are a number of key issues they face as they consider a new career as an independent consultant. How these issues are faced and resolved largely determines the new consultant success or failure.Independent consulting can be an exciting and rewarding career. 

You have the chance to set your own goals, to work with a wide variety of clients, cheap nfl jerseys to exercise a high degree of control over your own schedule and to exercise creative control over the services you offer.The first and foremost issue to be faced is the fact that you are starting your own business.  Cheap Jerseys free shipping

wholesale jerseys from china "He is more of a watching role than anything but Rog being Rog he has a lot to offer," said Easterby. "He is asking questions. Just trying to take as much out of it as he can, and offering advice and assistance to the younger players as well as supporting the coaches.".  wholesale jerseys from china

wholesale jerseys Omalu named his discovery Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy, soon learned of several more dead football players with similar issues, http://www.okcheapjerseys.com/ theorized many more were at risk of developing it, and marched straight to the nearest medical journal to publish his findings. It. Didn't go as well as he'd hoped.  wholesale jerseys

Cheap Jerseys from china The most important thing to look for is accreditation. Employers and graduate schools prefer, and may even require, that students graduate from accredited programs. This is especially true for engineering, where ABET accreditation is the standard. A simple solution is taking an old deraileur and fastening it to the dropouts of the first bike, but only using the bottom pulley. This will tension the chain from the bottom up, as you see, and prevent it from falling off. Once you've routed your chain through the deraileur, connect the chain.  Cheap Jerseys from china

Twenty million is a lot of money, but then it would have to be to satisfy a gambler. A gambler is not the same as a flutterer. A person fond of a flutter is satisfied with a fiver each way on a favourite. State (3 3, 1 1) may have turned around its season with a comeback victory over Utah State last Saturday despite the loss of freshman quarterback Collin Hill to a torn ACL that ended his year. With three of the next four on the road, Cheap Jerseys from china the Rams needed the win over Utah State to keep their hopes for a fourth straight bowl game on track.football team has improved from last season, Harsin said. Tougher.

Cheap Jerseys china Either that, or he really wants to have sex. They go upstairs to the smush room. Everything seems fine. The netminders square off in the Stanley Cup final two years later, with Ranford taking the Conn Smythe Trophy and the championship. You can make the case the result may have been unchanged if there was never a trade, as the Oilers had the deeper club. Moog has better regular season stats and more shutouts in the first few seasons after the deal, but Ranford carries a heavier load and lasts longer (seven seasons to five)..  Cheap Jerseys china

Cheap Jerseys free shipping "I was three days away from it being a fabulous Tour for me. I planned to finish in style down the Champs lyses. Then I was going to enjoy the next few weeks talking about my fifth in the time trial, my fourth in the prologue, my long breakaway. "He'd been ringing all day. Because he was a ringer. https://www.cheapjerseys18.com/ He rang and rang and rang 20 times a day..  Cheap Jerseys free shipping

cheap nfl jerseys The pads are light in weight. You can adjust them to fit your chest and arms. This equipment features compression block technology.. Although it is slightly heavier, it seems to be more accurate with relatively high torque, and is only very slightly more costly. Gears on inexpensive servos are often made of plastic or nylon, etc. More expensive servos, such as those mentioned above, often contain gears made of various metals including titanium (to produce a lower weight, while still maintaining strength) cheap nfl jerseys.

[ottermeat]

TL;DR Unfinished (and Unsolicited) Album Notes

One reason I’ve not “put out” anything in the past decade is because I’ve just not been writing songs.  I’ve written a handful – maybe three in ten years – but for whatever reason, I’ve just not felt compelled to say anything musically. I’ve mostly been sitting around, working on other people’s songs, sharpening my tools, and waiting for creative inspiration to hit me like it used to when I was 20 and soaked in drugs, hormones, and alcohol.

This collection of songs doesn’t change that. I didn’t write any new songs. Part of the exercise of this project was skipping the songwriting part.  Or doing it simultaneous to the recording. Except for Tunneldutch, which is my arrangement of The Beggars Trail’s Tunneldump, none of these songs were written when I hit record for the first time. I might have had a drum sample or programmed loop running in Garageband but I just hit record without any sense of where it was all going. And then I went back and deleted anything that sucked.  I deleted a lot.

Inspired by a Lorne Michaels quote I think about a lot (“The show doesn’t go on because it’s ready; it goes on because it’s 11:30.), I set one rule.  The project was done at midnight on December 31, 2019, regardless of what condition it was in.  After that, it was time to move on.  

For the first six songs, the song title is just an anagram unrelated to the song itself. It’s part of my overall dismissal (and personal inside joke) of these recordings that even I don’t know their names. That’s how either unfinished or ephemeral they are. A few people have asked me about a specific track by name and I have to look on my phone to see which one they’re talking about.  Nonetheless, here are some notes about those songs.

1. Spiced Medal On many of these tracks, I started with my weakness – rhythm. The first thing I did on all except 5. Eclipsed Dam and 6. Medic Pedals is program a drum loop, create a drum sample (usually of Ty), or otherwise create some sort of enforced meter. Having played in a five-piece for half a decade now, I’ve come to appreciate that in rock songs (if not many other genres) the drums and bass are really all that matter. Everything else is just flavor.

So I started Spiced Medal by programming the drum loop and playing bass over it until I found something that didn’t suck. Then I added everything else.  At some point I needed a bridge so I programmed a new drum loop and did the same thing.

2. Scalped Dime This is based around a sample of Ty drumming from either an August 2017 session studio session in Oakland or the One Fine Ride Redux from 2019. It’s pretty chopped up. Most samples of Ty’s drums are very short. Unlike a lot of other drummers, Ty almost never plays when no one else is playing. He’s never suggested taking a drum solo and doesn’t pound out his favorite licks while everyone else is trying to have a discussion about something. At most you’ll get half a measure before everyone else comes in.  That’s a desirable characteristic in a drummer but it means that 99% of the recordings I have of Ty drumming have some other instrument playing as well. On re:KoL (2006), I was able to work that to an advantage but if you want to start fresh with just drums, a lot of times I’m sampling the two-beat count in before playing starts.  In the precious few times I get to play and record with Ty, I’ve become very deliberate about not playing the whole time so I get some drums-only on tape.

I programmed some drums for the bridge and put some uncharacteristic guitar over it. I like the sound of crunch and distortion and it covers for my insecurities about my guitar playing. But I went pretty clean and bare on the bridge and I like it. Some of my funkiest bass playing too. BFP.

3. Decades Limp This is based around a Ty sample from a session in Silver Lake in 2013. I had the song structure in place in 2013 but could never come up with a second line beyond the bit about the sorcerer. So in 2019, I sent it to BDW and asked him to sing the line I had and also, send anything else. He sent back brilliance.

4. Sampled Dice This is based around a layered sample of me hitting a can of WD40.  This is admittedly the least complete thought on the album. I have a tendency to have a short track right in the middle of a project that’s kind of a tonic between the first and second halves.

5. Eclipsed Dam This one has circulated before. It’s probably from 2015-ish. It probably sounds the most like a Cosa Angeles-era recording (2001). I did not start with a drum loop. I just got a head full of cocoa and pressed record. It probably took about 5 or 6 minutes before I got to the part that you hear. There was something magical about these non-thoughts that formed something that approximated a song. Then I sent it to Ty and he worked his magic. He’s got a PhD in playing along to my sloppy meter and covering for me.  All I did in 2019 was add some synth and piano.  EQ and compression.

6. Medic Pedals

This is an iPhone recording of me with three of the four guys I play with in the other band from 2017 or 2018. It’s a straight improvised jam. I don’t know who is playing the synth. It’s some of my best improvised guitar playing to date. Every now and then (and I think any guitar player has had this experience) the fretboard just opens up and becomes readable. It almost sets out road signs for me.  Turn here. Up here, down here, over here. My fingers go on auto-pilot and I watch in amazement. Those moments are why I make music.

Because it was an iPhone recording, I had to make the recording sound worse to make it sound better. I added distortion and then put the crowd noises on to cover up the shittiness. It sounds pretty carnal. If only I had ever actually baited and cajoled a crowd that size with my guitar playing. But if I’ve learned one thing by living in California for twenty years, fake is real.

7. Tunneldutch

This is my arrangement of The Beggars Trail’s Tunneldump. It’s probably my favorite DP-penned song. This recording is based around a single guitar strum that I then tweaked computerly to make it go up a fourth and a fifth (and a second in one spot). Then Ty’s brilliant drumming and my fat-fingered trainwreck guitar playing.  I thought a lot about re-recording the vocals. They could be done a lot better.  But then midnight on NYE rolled around and that was that.

I genuinely don’t remember programming and recording the coda but I have the receipts to prove I did it.

[radical-rad1986]

ESS sign-ups

Mmm... maybe sideblogs don’t show up in tag searches?? Because my key chain post does?

So the Escaflowne Secret Santa (ESS) is a gift exchange that’s going into its fifth year. If you love Escaflowne you should join! We love new blood people. Please follow the @esca-ss​ blog for information and updates!

Thanks @drkstars-art for reminding me! Omg it is almost the end of October isn’t it? :/

Yes I’mma still use this sideblog for sign-ups bc it functions. Sign-ups end 11/16, partners will go out 11/20. Please post gifts by 1/11/2020. (Cannot type ‘2019′ for that ha.)

Sign-up form is here, send your info to icm.9302014 [@] gmail.com to sign up. FAQ is here, if you can’t find the answer holla at me.

Remember that I ignore time zones; if your time zone is right then you’re good!!

Anyone who loves Esca and wants to participate is welcome!!! Reblog and tag!!

-----

If the blog doesn’t work, here’s the FAQ/Information and the Sign-up form:

- 

Don’t see your question here? Just contact Rad via any method (email: icm.9302014 [@] gmail.com). [Heeeey, that’s a different email…. Yeah I don’t mind that the internet can see it. Responses will come from my primary email.]

What is the ESS?

The Escaflowne Secret Santa (ESS for short) is a fan-created holiday gift exchange to promote friendship between those who enjoy Escaflowne and to create new works for the fandom.

Who runs the ESS?

radicalrad-1986, call her Rad, hosts the ESS exchange. So far we’ve got four! wonderful years under the belt!

Do you need help organizing/running the ESS or working the Tumblr site?

At this time, no. If help is needed there’s already a list going. If there arises a situation in the future where Rad needs help she’ll ask. Thank you!

Who can join/participate?

Anyone and everyone who loves Escaflowne! You don’t need to be a part of the location we hang at or our little usual group on Tumblr. If you love Esca then come have fun, meet new people, make stuff for the fandom! It does not matter how old you are* or how old a fan you are; come join! (* = Please be 18+/local age of consent to participate in the NSFW exchange.)

How does this work?

1) Sign up by filling out this form and emailing it to icm.9302014 [@] gmail.com.

2) Receive your recipient’s name. 3) Create! (Keep it a secret!) 4) Check in at the requested times. 5) Post! 6) Have fun!! – Each year there will be someone helping Rad give out a set of names - including hers! Please check in with Rad, not the secondary person. Generic questions about the ESS should be directed at Rad. If you receive Rad’s name and have a question about her gift please contact the secondary person OR if you directly ask Rad be sure you’re anonymous.

When are the sign-up dates / posting dates?

These dates will change as the years go by so they’re not set in stone. If Rad is on top of things (haha) sign-ups will begin early October and posting week is mid/late December or early January. For the posting week you have the entire week, you’re not late if you post on Wednesday or Saturday instead of Sunday! :)

What can I do as a gift for my recipient? What quality does it have to be? How much time should I spend on it?

Whatever you want! If you’re a writer, write! If you’re an artist, draw! If you like making animated images, animate away! Music videos, fan soundtracks, manips, whatever your talent is. Please make something for your recipient to enjoy; if they don’t like Dornkirk don’t draw or write something elaborate based on him. Quality and time spent are hard to quantify. No one expects you to spend years on it or break yourself over it. “Please spend more than five minutes and don’t gift a rush job,” goes without saying. Surely no one will give a rushed gift but so it’s been said. Don’t compare yourself to another gifter and feel bad; know that your gift will be loved by the recipient and the fandom for the care and time you put into it.

Can I gift something NSFW or state that I’m fine with receiving it?

Yes! There is a secondary swap for those who are alright with NSFW. If you’re not into NSFW no worries! Must I gift something NSFW if I’m in that group? No; if your inspiration does not lead down that road that’s alright. It’s a way for people who are comfortable in the area to give/receive NSFW while those who are uncomfortable don’t have to worry.

Can I do BOTH swaps if there are two swaps?

Sure! The point is to have fun, so why not double it?

How/where should I post my gift?

Wherever you want; Rad is primarily linking to things on AO3 due to Tumblr’s 12/2018 stupidity.

– NSFW entries that are SFW: Please comment in the post that they are SFW as Rad will tag them that way for the filtering/block systems.

– NSFW entries that are NSFW MUST be under a cut!

– Tagging: Please @-tag this blog, esca-ss. In the tags section please tag it “ESS(space)[year]”. For example, “ESS 2017.” For the NSFW please tag it “NSFW(space)ESS(space)[year]”. Example, “NSFW ESS 2017”. Rad uses the Tumblr Search function to make sure she doesn’t miss postings. If this blog, esca-ss, doesn’t reglog your post within 48 hours please contact either this blog or RadicalRad1986 and nudge me.

Where do I sign up?? How much information should I provide? May I ask for an extra personalized gift?

Please email your form toicm.9302014 [@] gmail.com.

You can provide as much information as you want! Don’t write a book but don’t submit a single sentence either. :) — An ‘extra personalized gift’ means you’d like something based on fic you’ve written or art you’ve drawn or if you really like someone’s headcanon and you want your gift based on that. A generic request is alright but not specific (example of specific: fic A, chapter 2, lines 12-54). You must also include at least three generic likes as well. [If its longfic you can point to a chapter or two because yeah we may not have time to read 500,000 words.] Etc; it is not limited to fic, art, or headcanon. —— Example: “So I’d really like art based on this fic (URL link) that I/someone else wrote.” Or “I’d love to see a story based on this art (URL link) that I/someone else drew.” Or “Xyz posted this headcanon and I’d love to see this explored.“ As well as “I enjoy the VH dynamic, Folken intrigues me, and what the heck was Dryden doing for his five years abroad I mean how did he build his merchant empire-ish thing?” — URLs MUST be included, not just links. Links disappear as things are copied/pasted.

Can/should I message my recipient before the posting date? Can I post a teaser of some sort?

If you want, certainly! Remember though, it’s a secret! Don’t let your recipient know who you are or exactly what you’re making! If you’re having fun that’s the goal! (Example: Message your recipient as anonymous or Submit/send Rad or the ESS a teaser and she’ll post it, that way the original creator is temporarily disconnected from the teaser.)

What if I can’t post my gift on time or I have to duck out due to real life?

This is alright and totally understandable. There is a week’s time in which you can post your gift so don’t feel rushed. No one will look down on you because life happened. You have to take care of yourself first. Being a little late is obviously undesirable but understandable. If you’re going to be late or sadly must duck out please let Rad know asap. There are back-up gifters in place for this reason.

Deadlines and time zones

I try very hard to ignore timezone s. I live in Michigan, USA, so when I say a date/deadline I’m referring to my time zone of Eastern Standard. However, I try to allow twenty-four hours to go by before no longer accepting sign-ups or calling deadlines. If it’s the stated date in your timezone, you’re on time. :)

You sure link to your personal blog a lot… Just sayin’.

While I have notifications turned on for the ESS blog, Tumblr conspires against me and I don’t get the notifications. Notifications usually DO work for my personal blog. Therefore you’re more likely to get a faster response if you contact my personal blog. (Blame Tumblr.)

-

The form must be emailed to icm.9302014 [@] gmail.com. This form is to indicate what you want to receive as a gift; NOT what you don’t want to gift to someone else.

.

1) Screenname: 2) Places on the internet with URLs**: 3) Likes: – Esca universe: – Genre/topics/etc: 4) Dislikes: – Esca universe: – Genre/topics/etc: 5) SFW, NSFW, or both? 6) Does #3 and/or #4 change in SFW vs NSFW exchange? Is something alright with you in one exchange but not alright with you in the other? 7) If needed, are you available as a back-up gifter?

**: Please copy/paste or type out the URL on the form. For example: (radicalrad-1986.tumblr.com). When Rad receives sign-ups and their information she copies and pastes them into a Word/GDrive document. Text links usually don’t/sometimes carry over and thus your locations are lost! (This is an example of a text link.)

——

EXAMPLE:

1) Screenname: Rad (variations apply) 2) Places on the internet with URLs: http://www.radical-rad1986.tumblr.com https://archiveofourown.org/users/rad http://www.deviantart.com/rad1986 http://www.deviantart.com/rad-destiny-arcs http://www.fanfiction.net/~rad

3) Likes: – Esca universe: If you know me at all you know that the Series is my only focus and Eries and the Astons and Dryden are my peeps. I’d LOVE to see more Marlene/Mahad! Love the girls x their men too. ^.^ I do love the Movie and if you want to do my gift in another universe, any universe, that’s totally fine. The usual/standard is also enjoyed but it’s nice to have a larger variety. I’d love to see more of minor characters or pairings. I can be tempted with rairpares if they’re not terribly OOC. :D I would super enjoy fanart of anything I’ve written too, iffn you feel like it. Fanart of anything I’ve written would be wonderful! (My Aston girls fic is in the reworks but the gist is the same.) – Genre/topic/etc: I don’t follow really in-depth things well (like murder/mystery or politics) but pretty much anything. While clearly there won’t be any long-haul in a Christmas gift I am all for the in-depth, long journey instead of the immediate dessert. 4) Dislikes: – Esca universe: Not a fan of Dornkirk. That’s pretty much it! – Genre/topics/etc: Whump, infidelity, gore/extreme violence, unnecessary/extreme ragging on a character/topic. 5) SFW, NSFW, or both? SFW 6) Does #4 and/or #5 change in SFW vs NSFW exchange? Is something alright with you in one exchange but not alright with you in the other? I’m not a fan of Dornkirk but in a NSFW gift his thought process could be explored and while I dislike detailed violence, test subjects could be shown with minor details. 7) If needed, are you available as a back-up gifter? Yup!

[welcometothepenumbra]

BONUS: THE RITA MINUTE 3 – HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MISTA STEEL!

VOICE (FROM TV): …you see many techniques like this, here at the Galactic Paper Spaceship Grand Prix. It’s the fluting at the tail that gives the extra level of control—

RITA: Yeah, yeah, just show me the ship again!

VOICE (FROM TV): Its engineering team calls it the Manta Stinger Mark II. Now, let’s look at this beauty up close…

SOUND: PAPER CRUMPLING & RIPPING. RITA GRUNTING & MUMBLING UNINTELLIGIBLY.

VOICE (FROM TV): Made of only a single sheet of uncut A4 paper, the Manta Stinger has shattered records. Its design, which mathematicians have called “technically impossible,” took its team fifty years and nearly two hundred million creds in funding to achieve—

RITA: Done! Now let’s see this baby fly!

SOUND: FLAP.

Whoooaaaaaaa.

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

OH! A call!

Hi, hello, this is Rita’s house, Rita speaking.

Oh, Frannie, I’m so glad you called! I’m up to some very important business. I decided I was gonna get into makin’ paper spaceships, well actually first I was gonna get into antigravity yo-yos, but then I was flippin’ the channel over to the Mars yo-yo convention, and I got stopped on this Galactic Paper Spaceship whatever and I think I really—

Huh? What do you mean, how was the party? What par— (GASPS) Mista Steel’s birthday party!

No, of course I didn’t forget! And besides, I still got time, don’t I? Mista Steel’s birthday party ain’t until 7 PM on December 24th, and I specifically remember this Grand Spree or whatever it’s called started at 6 PM on the 23rd—

SOUND: EXPLOSION (FROM TV).

AH! Stupid stream! Gonna give me a heart attack…

VOICE (FROM TV): And as per GPSGP tradition, that bomb marks the twenty-four-point-fifth hour of our competition. It is now 6:30 PM on December the 24th.

RITA: Oh, there it is! The heart attack! Alright, bye-bye, Frannie, I gotta call you back, I got a party at my apartment in… thirty minutes!

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

Okay, okay. Okay. It’s okay, Rita. You were prepared for this. You made a party checklist, so you wouldn’t forget to do anything. And, well, you forgot about the checklist, so maybe next time, that goes on the checklist too. But for now you just… gotta… find it.

SOUND: PAPER RUSTLING.

It’s just gotta be on one’a these paper spaceships, right? Can’t be more than a few… hundred. A few hundred. It’s no biggie. Really.

It was a surprise party anyway, right? It ain’t like Mista Steel is expectin’ nothin’. As far as he knows you two are just gonna go to a movie, and you’re gonna buy the first popcorn and he’s gonna buy all the popcorn after that, so I mean anything’s gonna be a nice surprise compared to AH HA HA! Here it is!

Come to Rita, you sneaky little shippy! Alright, let’s see, here…

Recipe for one Mista Steel’s best surprise birthday party ever, by Rita. Item one: Rita! Item two: snacks. Item three: convince Mista Steel you forgot when his birthday was, so that he doesn’t think you’re planning a party. (GIGGLES) Item four: tell Mista Steel you wanna go see a movie on his birthday, but your car is broken and Frannie is dead so he needs to pick you up. Item five: more snacks, items six through nine, even more snacks…

Yep, everything good so far. Looks like I checked off everything on this list OH NO!

I forgot the last thing! Item ten: invite Mista Steel’s friends.

Well, Rita, this is quite a pickle you got yourself into. Planning a party for your best boss’s loved ones in half an hour? Some would say it can’t be done. Maybe there’s a lesson to be learned here, somewhere under all these paper spaceships. But that would take time, so instead, you’re gonna pick up that comms, and you’re gonna make some calls, and you’re gonna—

SOUND: CLUNK.

—oh, no, I dropped the comms.

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS.

Ah, it’s ringing! Hello? Hello, comms? Hello, comms! I miss you!

SOUND: PAPER RUSTLING.

There! Gotcha!

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS STOP.

Hello, this is Rita’s house, starring Rita, how can I help you?

MICK MERCURY (FROM COMMS): Hey-hey, just the Rita I wanted to talk to!

RITA: I know that voice… hey, wait a minute, aren’t you the one who keeps callin’ and tryin’ to sell me phone books from thirty years ago?

MICK (FROM COMMS): No! I mean, yes. But that’s not why I’m calling! It’s me, Rita, Mick Mercury! Juno’s best friend?

RITA: Well, I don’t know about that.

MICK (FROM COMMS): Listen, I just wanted to tell you that I got your message yesterday and I’m on my way.

RITA: Message… oh, right! I did call you!

MICK (FROM COMMS): You did, that’s right! And then you stopped mid-sentence and said something about paper spaceships and I thought, hey, how come nobody’s built a car out of paper yet? It’d be pretty cheap, right? Sell like gangbusters! So I spent a few dozen hours drawin’ up some plans, a business model or two, and—

RITA: Mista Mercury, Mista Mercury! This is all really interestin’ and of course I am going to want to know all about how I can get in on the ground floor of this business venture, but first, we got somethin’ more important to deal with: Mista Steel’s party, in thirty minutes!

MICK (FROM COMMS): Jay’s party is in thirty minutes?!

RITA: Oh no, you forgot too?

MICK (FROM COMMS): Yeah, completely! I thought it started thirty minutes ago, and I was just calling to say sorry I was so late!

RITA: You… really? You’re here??

MICK (FROM COMMS): Almost! Just give me five minutes to find a place to park my bike and I’ll be right in.

RITA: Yes, yes! Thank you so much, Mista Mercury. This is gonna be the best Mista Steel’s birthday ever!

MICK (FROM COMMS): But, hold on a sec, do you think there’s something wrong with the phone books idea? Because like I figured people sell antique furniture, right, so why not antique phone books? It’s just that I did a lot of dumpster diving and just got a whole bunch of tetanus just for—

RITA: Alright, I’ll see you soon, byeeee!

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

Whew. Well, that’s one down. Practically took care of itself.

Now let’s see, who else… OH! I know! I’ll call Mista Steel’s other friend!

SOUND: KEYBOARD CLICKS.

Just gotta run this decryption software, embed a virus or two, and… I’m in!

SOUND: COMMS BEEP. THEN STATIC.

SASHA WIRE (FROM COMMS): Hello? Who is this?

RITA: This is Rita! Hi!

VOICE 1 (FROM COMMS): Agent W, we need your full attention here?

WIRE (FROM COMMS): Yes, fine, just give me a moment. Alright, Rita, out with it. What’s this all about? Who put you up to this? Was it the Neptunians? Yoblonsky’s men, did he get you this signal?

RITA: What? Oh, no, Sasha, I just got this signal all by my little old self. It’s all in a day’s work for the one and only Rita—

WIRE (FROM COMMS): Stop toying with me. How do you know my name?

RITA: Oh, the boss told me years ago. He talks about you a lot, y’know. “Grr, that Sasha Wire! She sure is great! Agent of Dark Matters! I oughta teach her a lesson, give her what I owe her!” That kinda thing, I think. Usually I ain’t listenin’.

WIRE (FROM COMMS): Teach her a lesson? Give her what I owe her… wha– what does that even mean? That can’t be– this is about the December 25th deal, isn’t it? That’s classified information! How do you know—

RITA: Actually the whole deal is goin’ on on the 24th. That’s kinda why I was callin’ you, ‘cause I didn’t want you to miss it!

WIRE (FROM COMMS): The 24th… we were off by a day.

Agent. Agent! Put that down and come here!

VOICE 1 (FROM COMMS): But Agent W, this is highly explosive—

WIRE (FROM COMMS): And this situation is more explosive, trust me. Put it down. I think I’ve got a lead on the December 25th deal.

RITA: Ooh, wow, you must be important, huh? It takes like a whole three people just for you to write down an appointment.

WIRE (FROM COMMS): Alright, Rita, or whatever your name is. Enough games. I’m only going to ask this once, and you had better not lie to me. We have ways of finding that out. We have ways of making you regret it.

RITA: Why would I lie? I just want you to come to the party!

WIRE (FROM COMMS): The party… write that down, Agent. Might be code.

(TAKES A BREATH) Alright, Rita. So. Who do you work for?

RITA: Mista Steel.

WIRE (FROM COMMS): Mista…

We’ve talked before, haven’t we.

RITA: Yeah! Hi again, Agent Wire! Mista Steel’s birthday party is in twenty minutes and I know you’re really busy but it’d be nice if you’d just—

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

Uh, hello? Agent Wire? Miss Sasha? Hello? Huh. Guess she… doesn’t wanna come.

Well, that’s alright! I guess I’ll just call one’a Mista Steel’s other friends, like… l-like…!

Huh.

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

Ooh, ooh, that must be one now!

Hello, this is Chez Rita brought to you by Rita, how can I help you?

MICK (FROM COMMS): Yeah, hey, Rita? It’s Mick again.

RITA: Mista Mercury! I was startin’ to get worried. I thought you said you were only five minutes away.

MICK (FROM COMMS): Yeah, I’m still just looking for ya. Hey, speaking of which, how many wheels does your place have?

RITA: None at all! Are you offering?

MICK (FROM COMMS): Why, would you buy them? ‘Cause I could get you some wheels easy, just give me a—

Hey, wait, you said your place has got no wheels? That’s, like, exaggerating? Like you only have a few, right?

RITA: No. None of the apartments in Hyperion City got wheels that I know of, Mista Mercury.

MICK (FROM COMMS): Wait, apartment? Who said anything about an apartment?

RITA: Don’t be mad, it’s just where I live, I ain’t ever known no other way!

MICK (FROM COMMS): I ain’t mad– I mean, I’m not mad! I just thought… so when you said you lived on Lakeview, you meant, like, a street named that?

RITA: Uh… yeah. Lakeview Street. Where– where are you?

MICK (FROM COMMS): Oh, that explains it! Whew. For a minute there I thought you meant, like, your place had a view of a lake, you know? So I went and looked for the only lake I could find, and basically all there is around it is a big junkyard, so. I guess that’s not it, is what you’re saying.

RITA: But… there ain’t any lakes in Hyperion City.

MICK (FROM COMMS): Yeah, yeah, I know, somehow I got it in my head that you lived in Valles Marineris. Weird, right? (LAUGHS)

Yeah, anyway, do you think this party’s still gonna be going on in, like, fourteen hours? Because, that’s about how long it’s gonna take me to get there. The old hovercycle’s not as zippy as he used to be.

VOICE 2 (FROM COMMS): Hey, you! This is private property!

SOUND: BLASTER SHOT (FROM COMMS).

Get outta my junkyard.

SOUND: BLASTER SHOTS (FROM COMMS).

MICK (FROM COMMS): Sweet shining nebula! Gotta go, Rita, love ya, see ya in fourteen hours!

RITA: But, Mista Mercury—!

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

Wow. He’s a real mess, ain’t he?

Not like you, Rita. You got your whole act together. And you still got fifteen minutes to call and—

SOUND: CLUNK.

—oh, no, I dropped the comms again.

(SIGHS) Alright. Time’s a wastin’!

***

RITA: I’m tellin’ ya, the boss is impossible to plan a party for! I called so many people, his one friend, his other friend, and everybody else I could think of, but nobody can make it! Valles Vicky’s busy with her wife, the Prince of Mars said he can’t afford a phone, and Cecil Kanagawa, well, he really did want to come, but then he was talkin’ about the stuff he was thinkin’a bringin’ so I decided we better not.

What? What? Frannie, you gotta do somethin’ about the volume on your comms. Everyone else always comes through loud and clear and you just sound like you’re talkin’ with a mouth full of paper spaceships, which coincidentally just so happens to be how I tried to convince the Prince of Maaaaars that I needed medical attention but it didn’t even work so don’t try.

Does he have any work friends? Frannie, I’m his work friends.

(SIGHS) Everyone from his HCPD days either moved off Mars or wants Mista Steel dead, and that’s the kind of drama you really don’t want at a birthday party, Frannie, not unless you think it might be really really really boring— (GASPS)

No, wait, that ain’t true! There’s one cop who doesn’t want Mista Steel dead! I'm pretty sure!

Thanks for the idea, Frannie! I’m gonna give him a call right now!

SOUND: COMMS BEEP. COMMS BEEPS.

C’mon, c’mon, c’mon…

CAPTAIN KHAN (FROM COMMS): God damn it, Loo, for the last time, I told you I’m not taking calls today!

RITA: You are now! This is Rita, from Rita’s house, home of the Rita, and I got a question for you!

KHAN (FROM COMMS): Yeah, wow, geez, forceful. Kinda tempting to just do exactly what you say, when you yell it like—

Wait. Rita? Like… Steel’s secretary? We’ve talked before, right?

RITA: You bet, buster! And I ain’t gonna hang up this phone until I get an answer!

KHAN (FROM COMMS): Alright, geez, just get to it, the kids are waiting for me.

RITA: Mista Steel is having a birthday party in five minutes! And also, would you like to come?

KHAN (FROM COMMS): Do I want to… what? In five minutes?

RITA: It is okay if you are a little late, so long as you bring snacks!

KHAN (FROM COMMS): Uh… no. That’s my answer. I’m not. No, I’m not gonna do it. Not gonna go to Steel’s birthday party in five minutes.

RITA: …Oh.

KHAN (FROM COMMS): So, uh… you have a good evening, ma’am.

RITA: But but but but but but but but but— (CRYING)

KHAN (FROM COMMS): Oh geez, oh no, oh fuddlenugs…

NOOR KHAN (FROM COMMS): Omar! That had better not be work on the phone! We were just about to start wrapping presents!

KHAN (FROM COMMS): Yeah, uh, it’s not work, Noor! Just a… crying lady! Be right out!

NOOR (FROM COMMS): Omar!

KHAN (FROM COMMS): I said I’d be right out! Thank you for respecting my space!

SOUND: DOOR SLAMS (FROM COMMS).

(SIGHS) Alright, come on, calm down. What’s this all about?

RITA: (HICCUP-CRYING) I ju– I ju– I ju– I ju– I just wanted to make a good birthday party for Mista Steel, and I kept tryin’ but nobody can make it and I just wanted it to be perfect and the best forever is that too much to aaaaaaask… (SOBBING)

KHAN (FROM COMMS): Alright, shhh, shhh. Calm down, now. It’s alright. (COUGHS) Um, hey, look, Rita… I just can’t do it. Reason one: I don’t even like Steel. Reason two: it’s Christmas Eve! I’ve got my hands full over here. Full of presents and babies and a whole turkey, earlier. That didn’t last long.

RITA: Christma Zeve? Now you’re just makin’ things up!

KHAN (FROM COMMS): I’m not! It’s an Earth thing. And anyway, I’m too busy—

RITA: Busy with what?

KHAN (FROM COMMS): I don’t know. First we’re gonna wrap all their presents and put them underneath the tree. Then I dress up as a big happy giant in red clothes and try to steal the presents while they hit me with a stick to make me spit out all the chocolate coins I crammed in my mouth, and maybe later we’ll go from door to door and ask for letters cut out in the shape of different guts and things.

RITA: That… sounds… really complicated and fun.

KHAN (FROM COMMS): Yeah, I don’t know. Earth traditions are kinda free-form. Feels sorta like we improvise it most of the time.

RITA: Well, can I bring Mista Steel there?

KHAN (FROM COMMS): No, Rita. This day’s for family. Also, we’re supposed to have fun on Christmas. And Steel? Well, Steel ain’t exactly fun.

RITA: That’s true. But— (SNIFFLES) What am I supposed to do about his birthday party?

KHAN (FROM COMMS): Alright. Fine. You need some wisdom? You need old man beardo to come down from the mountain and give you his ten amendments? Well, I don’t got ten. I only got one. But here it is: you know what the true meaning of Christmas is, Rita?

RITA: No. I don’t care about Christmas. I care about Mista Steel! An’ it’s his birthday! And it ain’t even Christmas, you said it’s Christma Zeve, and—

KHAN (FROM COMMS): Alright. True meaning of birthdays, then. Christmas is probably somebody’s birthday. That’s just math. But anyway, the true meaning of birthdays is this: you didn’t die yet.

RITA: Hmm, yeah.

Captain, I don’t know what that means.

KHAN (FROM COMMS): It means… I don’t know, you could be dead! You know how easy it is to be dead? People do it every day. Some people know it’s comin’, some people don’t, some people are scared of it, some people aren’t. But the fact is that once you go dead there’s no going back, so, like… it’s pretty special that you’re not right now. So… on your birthday we just… mark the day you started living. We celebrate it. You get your loved ones all together and you kiss ‘em and love ‘em because, hell, you’re not gonna be able to do it forever. And that means no matter how many friends you got with you, no matter how your life’s going today, no matter how many people you left behind… that means today is pretty special. Always.

RITA: (SNIFFLES) Wow, Captain Khan. That was really nice.

KHAN (FROM COMMS): Yeah. It was, wasn’t it. (COUGHS) Now if you’ll excuse me, I gotta go hug every single one of my kids at least a couple times.

RITA: Okay. Have a good Christma Zeve, Captain Khan.

KHAN (FROM COMMS): Yeah, you too, Rita. And tell Steel… enh, just give him a hug, okay? Poor sucker looks like he needs it.

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

RITA: (DEEP BREATH) Well, Rita? I guess it’s just gonna be you tonight. You’re just gonna have to be enough fun for everyone. Oh, wait, that’s really easy.

SOUND: DOORBELL.

Hello, who is it?

JUNO: (THROUGH THE DOOR) It’s Juno. Open up.

RITA: Be right there!

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

Alright. Just gotta be as fun as four dozen people. Easy.

SOUND: KNOCKING.

JUNO: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Rita!

RITA: Comin’, boss!

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

Surpriiiiise!

JUNO: Oh, no. No, you didn’t. Please tell me you d—

Oh. You actually didn’t.

RITA: Didn’t… forget your birthday?

JUNO: No, you didn’t throw me a big surprise party. I was worried I was gonna show up and there would be like fifty people here. (SIGHS) That’s a huge relief, honestly.

RITA: It… is?

JUNO: Yeah. Y’know, on the way over here I got myself so worked up over the thought that I actually convinced myself you’d invite a cop. Like, I don’t know, Captain Khan or somethin’.

RITA: So, you’re… so you’re– just so I’m sure. You’re not upset then, that it’s just you and me, and nobody else and we really are goin’ to see a movie?

JUNO: Honestly, Rita, it’s been a long day. I think a movie’s about all I’ve got in me.

Mind if I, uh, powder my nose before we go?

RITA: Uh… sure.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO: Nice paper spaceships, by the way.

RITA: Thanks, boss.

SOUND: DOOR OPENS, CLOSES.

Huh. I guess… nothin’ did go wrong tonight, really.

How come this feels too easy?

SOUND: DOORBELL.

Oh, there it is! Oh no, oh no, oh no…

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

Mista Mercury, hi, hello, glad you could make it but now you gotta go, I’ll talk to you later—

PETER NUREYEV(!): Mister… who?

RITA: Mista—

Oh. It’s just a delivery man.

NUREYEV: Indeed it is. Tsar Shipping, at your service. Sign here, please.

SOUND: SCRIBBLING.

And there you are.

RITA: But… I didn’t order any flowers—

NUREYEV: Goodbye.

SOUND: DOOR CLOSES.

RITA: Huh.

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

JUNO: Rita? Who was that?

RITA: Uh… just a delivery man, boss.

JUNO: Oh, good. Had me worried it was somebody coming for a party. Guess I’m jumpier than I– thought…

What are those?

RITA: Uh, flowers? Card says they’re for you.

JUNO: Can– can I… can I see ‘em?

SOUND: CRUMPLING.

RITA: I mean, they are yours, boss.

JUNO: Does the card say anything?

RITA: It just says… happy birthday, Juno. Aw, that’s nice, ain’t it? Must be from a client who knows where I live and also knew you were going to be here at exactly this time today. Sweet.

Uh, boss? You okay?

JUNO: Yeah. Yep. I-I’m fine. Probably just… jumping to conclusions. Hey, uh… what if we go to that movie now?

RITA: In just a sec, boss. But first…

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

Nnnyah! Happy birthday, Mista Steel! And merry Christmas.

JUNO: Yeah. Thanks.

Wait, what the hell’s a Christmas?

RITA: I don’t know. Captain Khan told me to say it.

JUNO: Captain Kh– why were you talking to Captain—

RITA: Oh! Ah! Would ya look at the time! We’re nearly gonna be late for the movie, let’s go, Mista Steel, I won’t take anythin’ but the best seats in the house!

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS DEPARTING.

JUNO: Yeah, alright. Be right there.

Dahlias and roses… huh.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOPHIE KANER: In honor of this story about being thankful for those around you, we would like to finish this tale a little differently.

KEVIN VIBERT: We at The Penumbra would like to express our thanks to the following people:

SOPHIE: Firt and foremost, to all of our supporters on Patreon who make this project possible. We could not do this without you.

MUSIC: STARTS.

This half-season your contributions have bought us equipment, security, knowledge, and time. This show would be only a shadow of what it is without you. Thank you.

KEVIN: We would like to give special thanks to our $30 per episode supporters Atha Lang, Vron, Charlie Spiegel, Minchowski, Jamie Gunter, and the Princess and the Scrivener. Your generosity genuinely stuns us. Thank you.

SOPHIE: We would also like to thank the actors who lent their voices to this episode, including: Kate Jones as Rita, Stefano Perti as Mick Mercury, Sophie Kaner – that’s me! – as Sasha Wire, Jason Mellin as the Dark Matters agent, Elliot Sicard as Omar Khan, Joshua Ilon as Juno Steel, and Noah Simes as… well, you know who.

KEVIN: We’d also like to thank the people behind who worked behind the scenes to make this show we love, including: Alice Chung, Kat Buckingham, Noah Simes, Mikaela Buckley, Ryan Vibert, Scott Gallica, Grahame Turner, and I would like to thank Sophie Kaner.

SOPHIE: And I would like to thank Kevin Vibert.

KEVIN: And more than anyone else, Traveler, we want to thank you. You who write stories about us, who draw art of us, who talk about us, who think about us, who lend your ears to us. You who board our train for parts unknown time and time again. Thank you.

SOPHIE: The year’s end comes upon us, Travelers. But don’t worry, we’ll see you again in March, when season two continues. So rest up, prepare yourselves, and have a very merry… birthday.

(LAUGHING) I might cry. I have to do it again.

[scaredofrobots]

Unusual (chat with Evans 315)

Happy Galentines day @petalstofish this is for you. 

Thanks (I guess) to @shacklebolt-k for the idea. And @elanev91 and @beks21 for being my sentient fedoras with the European Colonial Construct of Grammar (I guess) cc @oyevans because you love BlackEvans as much as me and also are a sentient fedora on FFN

Sirius Black was on a mission.

Something was afoot, amiss and simply just not right.

Lily Evans Potter had lost all Christmas cheer. It was December 12th and she was not in her very favourite “13 days until Christmas jumper” which featured all the characters from the 12 Days of Christmas song.

So today, Sirius Black was going to get to the bottom of this- as he always did- with a chat and several bottles of Firewhiskey.

The Problem was first discovered on November 30th and there was nary a Christmas tree in sight.

It had been an odd year, to be fair, and Sirius had been travelling for much of October and November- so he hadn’t exactly been around the Potter household to experience the typical 84 days of Lily Evans Potter Christmas magic.

Therefore, he was a little shocked when he went to pick Lily up from the cottage in Godric’s Hollow to find there was no Christmas tree and no porch coated in glitter, garland and bobbles.

He assumed that this was because James was gone for six weeks to train with England for the World Cup and wouldn't be back until Christmas Eve.

“Alright, Evans...I’m sorry- Mrs. Potter?” he asked as she opened the door and let him in.

“You keep saying that like it is funny every time,” Lily responded, rolling her eyes. “It was funny once.”

“Evans, you wound me,” he smiled and was surprised to find Lily was hugging him. “There, there, Evans- I know you’ve been lonely without your boys.”

Sniffing slightly, Lily stated, “You have no idea.”

“Well,  my lovely Mrs. Prongs- I know what will cheer you up! Let’s go get a Christmas tree and decorate the shit out of your house,” Sirius said and offered his arm to her.

Lily took it and they went on their way. They spent the day getting the Christmas tree and several decorations.

They transformed the cottage into a winter wonderland and Sirius was glad to see Lily looking slightly full of Christmas cheer. She even joined him in singing God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs as they hung garland across the porch. Lily seemed happy but not Twenty Six Days Until Christmas!! Happy. He decided that she must be missing James too much to really embrace the spirit. It was the first time since they’d gotten together that James was gone for Lily’s usual Christmas countdown. Since James was out of town- and Remus was still teaching at Hogwarts- Sirius decided to make it his personal mission to bring the Christmas Cheer back out of Lily Evans Potter.

Sirius woke the next day with a plan. He dug through his old school trunk and found the slightly burned and completely wrinkled copy of the legendary failed Advent calendar. He highlighted the top 24 activities and planned an order of events sure to restore Lily Evans Potter to her usual level of Christmas preparation.

The Plan was a disaster.

Sirius had tried all of Lily’s favourite pre-Christmas activities.

She fell asleep halfway through their carolling trek.

Then during ice skating, she had to stop skating to go vomit.

THEN when they were making Christmas cookies, she burst- inexplicably- into tears. She rushed out of the kitchen crying. When Sirius found her five minutes later, she was asleep in one of James’ old quidditch jerseys in their bedroom.

Lily had never really been a codependent person, so Sirius found her consistent moping odd and her lack of Christmas cheer odder, but still, he blamed it on James being gone. Furthermore- she wouldn’t fucking talk about what was bugging her, no matter how many ways he asked.

Which is why on December 12 The Plan shifted into Get Evans Fucking Drunk and Chat About Our Feelings While We Braid Each Other’s Fabulous Hair.

Sirius arrived at the cottage at 6pm with four bottles of Firewhiskey. He let himself in, as was his custom, and announced in his loudest lawyer voice, “Alright Evans- It’s time to have a chat!”

She popped her head out of the kitchen warily and responded, “I can’t- go away Sirius”

Rolling his eyes, Sirius entered the kitchen and sent down the bottles.

“Yes you can. Something is afoot, Evans, and I intend to figure it out,” he said.

“Please stop pretending you’re Sherlock Holmes,” Lily complained.

Sirius uncapped a bottle of Firewhiskey and took a deep drag and then tried passed it to Lily, who didn’t reach for it.

“Come on Evans- this is how we solve things,” he prompted.

“I can’t,”  Lily said.

“Evans.”

“Can’t.”

“Why?”

“It’ll hurt the baby.”

“What baby?” Sirius asked.

At this- Lily just stared at him.

Confused, Sirius asked again, “What baby?”

“The baby currently growing inside of my body, Sirius.”

Inexplicably, Sirius felt tears prick in his eyes- “There is a baby in there? Your baby? And Prongs? A little Prongs?”

Lily rolled her eyes at this and said, “No it’s the milkman’s- of course it’s mine and James’ baby.”

“WE’RE HAVING A BABY?!?” Sirius asked again, suddenly full of an excitement he couldn’t quite describe.

“Well, technically-“ Lily started but once she saw the look on Sirius’ face, she stopped herself- “Yes- yes we are.”

Sirius put down the Firewhiskey bottle and scooped Lily up into a big bear hug exclaiming again, “A baby!”

Laughing fully for the first time in weeks Lily said, “Yes, a baby!”

Suddenly panicked, he set her down, “Did I squeeze you too hard? Did I hurt the baby?”

“No, you prat!” Lily laughed and gave Sirius a soft whack on the shoulder before wiping her tears away.

“Does Prongs know?” Sirius asked.

“No- this is in-person news. So no blabbing!” Lily admonished him as she poked him in the chest

Crossing his heart Sirius said, “Marauders’ Honor. Now come on. We’ve got shopping to do.”

And for the first time ever (but certainly not the last)- they abandoned their Firewhiskey mid-chat to take care of the smallest member of their family.

The next twelve days flew by. Telling Sirius about Little Prongs (as he insisted on calling the baby) seemed to unlock Lily’s Christmas Spirit again. It also helped that she was finally feeling a little more energetic and now having as much morning sickness- which was, in large part, due to Sirius researching a multitude of potions and vitamins to help her feel more like herself.

They spent a few days turning the spare room into the nursery. Lily had plans to have James open the nursery door when he returned Christmas Eve and for him to see the crib and for that to be his present. This was fifty percent because she she thought it was sweet, and fifty percent because “it’s about time I out surprised James on Christmas Eve”.

On December 19th, Sirius and Lily had plans to pick Remus up from Kings Cross for his holiday break from “teaching those little snot nosed shits” (as stated in his last letter). Sirius arrived at the cottage at 9 am and knocked on the front door.

When Lily opened it she looked at Sirius incredulously, “What the fuck is that Sirius?”

“Lily- first of all- watch your fucking language. There is a baby present. Second of all- it's a wheelchair. For you. To keep Little Prongs safe.”

Lily stared, took a deep breath, and then said in her very best mom voice, “Sirius Black. I am pregnant. I am not an invalid. Women have been having babies for thousands of years. In caves and shit. Not to mention that Evans women have naturally strong baby hips. I believe you listed them on ‘reasons why James should marry Evans’ in fifth year.”

Grumbling, Sirius folded up the wheelchair and transfigured it into an umbrella and told Lily sternly, “You start to feel tired at all- and I’m pushing you around.”

“Deal,” Lily nodded, “Now am I apparating or shall you?”

“Evans. We are driving. Like muggles. Apparating could be bad for the baby.” Sirius scolded.

“You’re an idiot Sirius,” Lily said and grabbed his hand. Sirius felt the familiar pull as the sneaky red head apparated them to London.

When they arrived, Sirius gave Lily a five minute lecture about endangering Little Prongs and dragged her to St. Mungos to make sure “everything was still alright”.

As the healers looked her over, they were barely able to contain their laughter as it was explained to Sirius that “Apparating was fine until the end of the second trimester,” and that, “No, Mrs. Potter does not need to be in a wheelchair or on bed rest, the baby is growing just fine.”

Sirius pouted for the rest of the day.

When Remus joined them he asked, “What's wrong today, Sirius?”

Sirius responded with a huff, “Ask Evans.” When Remus looked to her for the answer, she simply shrugged.

His pouting continued until they reached their favorite muggle diner where they traditionally ate on their Pick up Remus from Hogwarts days. Sirius could rarely find a way to be upset when there was a cheeseburger to be consumed and he brightened significantly as they ate their lunch.

That was until the waitress arrived and asked if they were finished.

When Lily handed her plate over with half of a burger and several chips still left on her plate- Sirius instantly scowled.

As the waitress left, Sirius hissed at her, “Evans- you didn't eat enough.”

“Yes I did- Sirius- I am full!”

Remus watched the exchange confused until Sirius all but whisper shouted

“What about Little Prongs then? Little Prongs might still be hungry! You’re eating for two now!”

“I am quite aware of the baby currently growing inside of me Sirius- I don’t you reminding me every minute” Lily rolled her eyes

“Yes well- sometimes I wonder-”

At this Remus politely cleared his throat.

Suddenly remembering he was there, Lily and Sirius stopped what would quickly escalate into a situation.

Clearing his throat again, Remus asked hopefully, “A baby?”

With a rush of tears and sudden movement, Lily moved into the booth with Remus and Sirius.

“Yes, oh Remus, this isn’t how I wanted to tell you. Sirius has been like a mother hen and I forgot we hadn’t told you. I wanted to tell you and James on Christmas Eve and now I’ve-”

She stopped as Remus pulled her into a hug, and, through his tears, he said, “That's alright Lily. A baby. We’re going to have a baby!”

Pulling away Lily ruffled his hair, “Yes, we are. I haven’t told James yet.”

Remus dabbed at his eyes and said, “Of course- this is in person news”. They embraced again and Sirius interrupted with, “This is all lovely but it still doesn’t change that you didn’t eat enough, Evans”

“Shuttup you ass,” Remus told him, “Lily can eat whatever the fuck she wants and I’m going to get her some ice cream-” and then realizing himself Remus added,  “….oh shit- we have to stop cursing now don’t we?”

“Like hell we do,” Lily responded just as Sirius shouted, “LANGUAGE!”

Remus proved to be the balance Lily and Sirius needed. He kept Sirius from being too much of a mother hen and kept Lily calm when she would start to panic.

The day before James was due back, she was in the midst of such a panic.

“We can’t be parents Remus! I can’t even bring myself to wash the dishes half the time! I don’t even know how to change a wizard diaper! James is going to try to teach a little person to fly! And- and- Sirius called dibs on godfather when we got married and how the hell-”

“BREATHE LILY,” Remus told her for the five hundredth time, “A child needs warmth and love and a place to be safe. They’ll have that in spades with you and James. Little Prongs will also have two uncles to show him care and get him out of trouble”

Slowly relaxing Lily asked, “Yeah?”

“Until the very end,” Remus assured her.

The next morning, Remus and Sirius arrived at the cottage to find Lily in full Christmas Eve tornado mode.

James was due to arrive around dinner time, which meant that Lily was busy cooking a feast and putting up her Christmas Eve decorations. Sirius was relieved to see she was wearing her Christmas Eve jumper- so James wouldn’t suspect anything.

After lunch, they retired to the lounge to play cards. James was due to arrive just before dinner so they could make it to the later Christmas pageant. They’d all attended as a family since Lily and James had gotten engaged years before.

Around 3pm- they moved on from muggle card games to exploding snap. Sirius refused to allow Lily to play without some sort of protection for Little Prongs.

“The cards aren’t going to explode inside my uterus Sirius!” Lily argued

“First of all- ew- secondly- I am not taking any chances on my godchild. Besides I’ve been DYING to try this on someone,” Sirius argued.

At this, Remus took another sip of wine.

“Fine,” Lily huffed, “protect me.”

Brandishing his wand with his usual dramatic flair Sirius cast the protection charm.

Lily suddenly found herself inside a bubble.

“Sirius what the FUCK!” Lily tried to get over to him to WHACK him but the charm made her unable to move quickly. Sirius was running from her and slammed into Remus who promptly spilt his wine and dropped his glass. There was so much commotion and noise they didn’t hear the front door open.

Lily had Sirius cornered near the fireplace when James’ voice cut through the chaos, “What the fuck is going on? Why the hell is Lily in a bubble charm?”

Before anyone could say anything else, Sirius exclaimed, “I was trying to protect the baby!”

Trying to cover Remus said jovially, “You’re back early James!”

“They let us out early,” James responded, “but….did Sirius say….a baby?”

“I swear to God Sirius take this thing off of me and don’t say another word or I will shave your head” Lily hissed.

“You would never!” Sirius gasped

“Padfoot-” James said, trying to remain calm, “What the fuck is happening?”

At this Sirius dropped the charm and gave James a smile, “Welcome home Prongs- good practice? Going to win us the cup?”

Looking to his wife, James asked quietly, “Lily?”

“Welcome home, James,” Lily said as she crossed to him and embraced him, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” James said and kissed the top of her head, “can you explain….” and he gestured vaguely.

She grabbed his hands and pulled him up the stairs, “Honestly, I don’t know how Sirius kept his mouth shut when you were planning the proposal. I mean I only told him before you because he was trying to get me to drink and that isn’t good for the baby and-”

James stopped short, “I ask again? Baby?”

“Fuck- I mean- fiddlesticks- I mean…..” with this Lily turned to look him in the eyes.

Lily had thought she’d seen James nervous. When they fought about singing Christmas Carols in October and he approached her in that stupid Santa suit, anytime he walked onto the Quidditch field, and when he had waited for her answer on a Christmas Eve. But now she knew what nervous James really looked like. Terrified, hopeful and with something like joy dangerously bubbling to the surface.

“Yes, James….we’re going to have a baby. I found out right after you left but this is-”

“In person news” he finished.

And it was like a dam had broken. The joy bubbled over and James pulled Lily into his arms with a whoop. “I’m going to be a dad!” Their laughter quickly dissolved into kisses and several “I love yous”.

Once Lily felt grounded again she pulled him to the spare room and told him, “This is how I wanted to tell you- but the best-laid plans...”

James opened the door slowly and felt overcome with something he couldn’t quite define. There sat a crib and a rocking chair. Lily hadn’t done any decorating but here was tangible proof that everything was changing and that there would be someone new in their family.

“Do you like it?” Lily whispered, “I wasn’t sure on the colour or-”

He turned to her and pulled her into another embrace and blinking back his tears he told her,  “I love it, Lily. I love it so much.”

From downstairs they heard Sirius shout, “CAN WE COME UP YET?”

“Yes, you mangy mutt!” James yelled back.

The rest of the evening was filled with laughter, tears, hope for the future but mostly family.

It was Lily’s best Christmas Eve Yet.

[densi-mber]

I Don’t Want to be Your Fiancée

A Densi-mber Drabble

by Psyched

“C’mon, Kensalina, tell me!”

“The whining is not attractive, babe.”

“But I need to know! Wait…is it Vegas?  Are we doing Las Vegas for New Year’s Eve?  You know I’ve always wanted to.  They close the entire Strip to car traffic and it’s like one giant block party.  I hear the fireworks at midnight are phenomenal. Oh!  Are we seeing Celine Dion’s show while we’re there?”

Kensi looked at her watch. “Considering it’s ten o’clock and Vegas is a four-hour drive, no Deeks, we are not going there for the new year.”

“But it’s only a little over an hour by plane.  Less by private jet since you can skip security.”

“Damn,” Kensi said, hitting her forehead with the palm of her hand.  “I completely forgot about the jet we keep hangered in our backyard.” She gave her fiancé a look of frustration.  “No Vegas,” she reiterated as she picked up the remnants of their late take-out dinner and tossed them in the trash.

“So how are we going to spend the last two hours of 2017?”  Deeks wiggled his eyebrows as he approached and pulled her into his arms.  “The way we couldn’t spend the last two hours of 2016 because you weren’t feeling up to it?”

“You know, that’s not a bad idea,” Kensi kissed the corner of Deeks’ lips.  “I’ll make you a deal.  Whatever time is left over after we’ve done what I want to do, we can spend doing…whatever you want to do.”

Stepping away and rubbing his hands together in anticipation, Deeks said, “Okay then, let’s get to it.  Oh wait, I forgot, I don’t know what it is!”

“Just make sure you have your phone and I’ll meet you on the couch.”  She headed for the fridge.  “Beer or wine?”

“We still having champagne at midnight?”

“I plan on having something more than the new year to celebrate by then, so yes.”

“Then wine, please.”

Kensi brought the wine, a bottle opener, and two glasses to the living room and handed the bottle and opener off to Deeks.  She placed the glasses on the coffee table next to his phone, which she then picked up and started fiddling with.

“We going to play Angry Birds Friends?  That’s so retro, Kens!  And I can totally kick your ass in under an hour.”

She scoffed, “First, no you couldn’t.  And second, no we’re not.”

“I think technically that should be ‘First, no we’re not and second, no I couldn’t.’  And I so could.”

Kensi rolled her eyes as she sat next to Deeks on the couch, tucking his phone under her leg.  She held out the glasses while he poured the wine. Taking a glass from her, Deeks clinked Kensi’s and said, “To my beautiful fiancée.  I can’t wait to spend the next year with you.  2018 will be awesome.”  He leaned in and kissed her sweetly.

Kensi didn’t pull far away. “And on that note…I don’t want to be your fiancée any more.  I want to be your wife.  We’re setting a wedding date, for some time in 2018.”

Deeks felt Kensi press his phone into his chest.  Taking it, he saw it was opened to their calendar app and his face fell.  “That’s what we’re doing for the next two hours?”

“We were supposed to do it earlier this month, right after I got assurances from Whiting that she’ll let you leave LAPD without coming after you for murder.  But then you distracted me.” She gave him a sly smile, “Not that I’m complaining.”

Deeks smirked proudly. “That was particularly fun, wasn’t it? Nothing like having my ladybird take things into her own hands to get my engine revving.  Plus what you did with Whiting was good too,” he winked.

Kensi’s smile broadened to the one that was home to Deeks.  “Then let’s set a date!”  She withdrew a manila file folder from behind a couch pillow and flipped it open.

“Whoa, what’s that?”

“Important research.”

“Can’t be too important if it’s not in a binder and cross-referenced like the ones Crazy Bertie makes for you.”

“Correction:  she makes those for us.  And since your mother goes through all that trouble, the least you will do is look through them with me when the time comes.  But that time is not now.  And I think you’ll appreciate what I’ve done here to make choosing a date a little easier,” she waved the folder in front of him.

“Keep talking, I’m intrigued.”

“Okay, black out the following dates that we cannot get married.”  Kensi waited until Deeks re-opened the calendar, “March twenty-second through April fifteenth, July twenty-fifth through August eighteenth, and November sixteenth through December sixth.  Though if we’re not married by then, I’m not going to be very happy.”

Deeks’ fingers moved quickly across his phone screen.  “…through December sixth.”  He looked up at Kensi, disappointment clear in his eyes.  “Why is April sixth out of the running?”  He checked the app again, “It’s a Friday!  I say we pick that.”

Kensi was touched by his suggestion that they get married on the anniversary of the day Jason and Tracy met. “We could,” she said slowly, “but I thought you might want to avoid those days.”  

Deeks’ brows knitted together in confusion until his face lit up the moment he figured it out. “That’s when Mercury will be in retrograde next year!”  Kensi nodded and showed him the collection of papers.  “Are those our 2018 horoscopes?”  Deeks noted she’d highlighted several sections in at least three different colors.  “You don’t believe in astrology,” he said in a slightly awed voice.

“But you do.  And I know you’d never want to get married while Mercury is in retrograde, so I looked some things up.  And frankly, anything that will help narrow down the choice for a date is fine by me.  That said, I do love the thought of getting married on April sixth.”

Deeks grimaced.  “So did I.  Hey, what about the following year?  What’s Mercury doing the first week of April then?”

“No.  Absolutely not.  We are not waiting sixteen months to have a small wedding on the beach, Deeks. Let’s see if we can find another viable date before we have to choose between getting married in 2019 or while Mercury’s in retrograde.”

“2019 is sooner than leap day, at least,” he tried one last argument.

“Seriously, Deeks, do you even read these things?  According to this, we’re practically doomed.  A Leo woman and a Capricorn man shouldn’t even be in a relationship, much less get married.  But it also says you’re reserved and like solitude while I’m social, gregarious, and like attention.  I’m supposed to be full of life and you’re described as a pessimist.  Would it really be so terrible to get married when a planet looks like it’s moving backwards?”

He shook his head, “Kensalina, I really love you for doing this for me.  You’re right, we’ll find another day in 2018.”  He slid a hand around her neck and pulled her in for a tender kiss that quickly grew passionate.  Deeks wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of the year making love to Kensi, but he’d promised they’d pick a wedding date first.  Time to get his head back in the game.

When they broke for air, he continued in his best professor tone, “Everyone knows horoscopes aren’t written in stone or meant to be taken literally when they seem to be ‘wrong.’ They’re merely supposed to help guide us.  Of course we’re not doomed.  We just have to work harder at our relationship sometimes.  Remember early on, when we didn’t think we could even be good partners?  We both made a conscious effort to change a little bit, and it made all the difference.” He took the pages from her and scanned them.  “See, look right here, it also says you have temperamental tendencies and should refrain from that kind of approach and not be possessive in our marriage.  Good advice, yeah?”

“Deeks, that’s good advice for anyone.”

��Ooh, problem solved, I think.  Mine says, ‘Singles already in love relationship and eager to tie the knot need to plan for the auspicious day from around last week of February.  The planet linked with love and intimate relationship, Venus remains in a state of combustion till twenty-first of February.’ Combustion, Kens, that sounds hot. Let’s get married then.”

“I saw that, too.  But consider the timing with this from mine,” Kensi pointed to another highlighted section and read aloud, “’For love birds anxious to take their relationship to the next level, the period from around the last week of February seems supportive.  Newlyweds or other couples inclined to have a child are in for a supportive planetary position on this count.’  And then nine months later, it says, ‘With a Venus retrograde adding flavor and intensity in October and November (in Scorpio to boot) you can expect early fall to see some dynamic, exciting and potentially life changing moments arriving.’  So I’m thinking we cross late February off the list of potential wedding dates, or we may end up pregnant before we planned.”

“Says the woman who doesn’t believe in this stuff,” Deeks muttered as he updated the calendar.

“Yeah, well.  I’m not too big to admit that some of these things were pretty damned accurate.  At least as far as describing the past.  This is from mine again, ‘This entire period that has reached back as far as six years has slowly, and sometimes not so slowly, been reworking how you approach love, what you want from it, what you need from it on the very deepest levels.  Fireworks without substance seldom last long as you move towards a more fulfilling, more complete attitude and awareness around intimacy.’”

“That’s right, no more fireworks without substance for my girl.  I’m full of substance, and I know I make you see fireworks!”

“You’re such a doofus,” Kensi chuckled.

“Maybe, but I see you also printed out our career, horoscopes.  Anything good there?  Does it tell us what we’re going to do after LAPD and NCIS?”

Kensi rolled her eyes and perused the now familiar paragraphs, “Team work pays off well for you next year.  But you could say that about every year since you started working with NCIS.  And supposedly the end of the year will have possibilities for relocation or a change of course if you’re willing.  Oh, and get this, ‘Your practicality and managerial skills would help you to climb yet another rung in the professional ladder.’”

“Hmm, practicality and managerial skills…maybe I need to be the next Hetty.”

“You’d be a damned sight better than Mosely, that’s for sure,” Kensi said earnestly.

“Thanks, sugar bear.” Deeks pressed a kiss to Kensi’s cheek. “What about yours?”

“Better suited to last year and I hope completely wrong for next year.  My job is supposed to go through several ups and downs and I should plan my career future and work towards it but not mind the present-day hardships.”

“Solid advice, regardless. And so is this, ‘Reflective of a year-end bonus perhaps, or a new career offer, put anything that arrives to good use…and consider the future.’  Lines up with my potential end of year career change, yeah?  That’s good to know.”

“Sure, except we we’ve been talking about that for a while now, Deeks.  We’re not deciding to do it because our horoscopes say we should.”

“True, but maybe it will end up happening next year because the planets are in their proper alignment.”

“I don’t care why it happens, as long as it’s the right move for us, personally and professionally. And the first step in all of it is getting married.  So let’s get back to picking the date.  I don’t think anything else in our horoscopes is going to help with that, so let’s see what we’ve got.”

Deeks held up the calendar. They hadn’t eliminated that many options.  Thinking aloud, Kensi said, “Okay, I really don’t want to wait until the end of the year to be married, so anything after the mid-November retrograde is no good.  And before the first one is probably too soon, so let’s cross out everything before the March and April dates as well.”

“That leaves us with mid-April through most of July or end of August to mid-November,” Deeks summarized. “And I agree with you, the latter part of the year just seems too far away.  Which leaves us with April, May, June, or July.”

“Weather’s hottest in June and July,” Kensi said.

“But the beach will be about fifteen degrees cooler,” Deeks pointed out

“And loaded with tourists,” she countered.

“I know all the best beaches that the tourists never find.  Plus OSP closes for two weeks in early June, so we won’t have to take time off for a honeymoon.  I can see it now, Kick-Ass Kensi Blye, a beautiful June bride.”

Kensi smiled, “So early June?”

“Yup.  Friday, Saturday, or Sunday?”  Deeks asked.

“Friday or Saturday, I think.  The team might not have to go to work on Monday, but the Cupcake Girls will. Morning, afternoon, or evening?”

“Evening, definitely. Watch the sunset over the water while we say our vows?  Doesn’t get any more magical than that.”

“Sounds perfect,” Kensi agreed, and their eyes locked for several seconds, the excitement at being so close to having a date almost palpable between them.  “What does that leave us?”

Checking the calendar, Deeks said, “We’re officially off the clock starting Sunday June third and back on Monday June eighteenth.  If we want to really take a long honeymoon we can shoot for the weekend before OSP closes, when we’d typically be off already.”

Kensi shook her head. “Unless something comes up, in which case the team wouldn’t be able to be there.”

“No bueno,” Deeks concurred. “So that leaves us with Friday June eighth or Saturday June ninth.”

“If we go with the eighth you’ll be more likely to remember our anniversary since it’s the same day of the month as your birthday,” Kensi said with a small smirk.

“Kens, no matter when we get married, I would never forget the date of the best day of my life.”

She was momentarily taken aback by the sincerity in Deeks’ tone.  “God, I love you,” she whispered.

“But we probably should go with the eighth so you’ll be more likely to remember my birthday,” he teased.

“It was one year!” And just like that, the moment’s gone, Kensi thought.  

“So are we done?  Are Kensi and Deeks officially becoming Densi or Keeks on Friday, the eighth of June, 2018?”

“You want me to double-check some of the astrology sites to make sure they don’t say anything ominous about that date in particular?” she said.  

Deeks got up and headed for the kitchen while Kensi worked her phone.  “Great idea.  Also, you should make sure it doesn’t fall on the same day as a major sporting event, or a holiday weekend, or the thirteenth…”

Kensi rolled her eyes but smiled at his last comment.  Deeks had just returned when Kensi declared, “June eighth is clear on all fronts, babe. It’s comfortably ensconced between Memorial Day and Father’s Day; nearly two weeks between each and…our wedding.” She jumped and let out a small yelp when a loud pop sounded behind her.  Turning with her hand on her chest, Kensi saw that Deeks had opened the bottle of champagne reserved for toasting the new year at midnight.  

Glancing at her watch, Kensi said, “Deeks!  There’s still more than an hour until midnight.”

“True, but we just set our wedding date, my sexy bride-to-be. And as you said before, that is something worth celebrating.  Also, as per our earlier agreement, I get to choose how we spend any time remaining in 2017.  And I can promise you we’ll be too busy to stop and pay attention to the turning over of the new year.”

[71tenseventeen]

Shelter-(20)

Here it is. I hope I did them justice.

Next chapter will be an Epilogue.  

Geno calls several times a day for the first two weeks.

Sidney never answers but he cries every time it rings.

By the time a month has passed, the calls have tapered down to once a day.

It hurts.  Sidney knew it would.  He did this for a reason.

Everytime he reaches for the phone, he reminds himself of that.

–

Sidney lands a job doing janitorial work at the rink.  The hours are more regular than at the diner and he gets paid a little bit more.

Then Taylor gets the flu and a double ear infection. Sidney misses too many days during his probationary period and gets fired.

He gets fired from the grocery store when he oversleeps after staying up for most of three nights in a row with a teething Taylor.

He eventually gets hired back on at the diner.  

He tries hard not to think about how much Mom would hate that.  Taylor has to be taken care of.  

There’s no one else left to do it.

–

Geno tries to call four times on Sidney’s birthday.  He’s the only person who remembers.

–

In August Sidney hides all the mail he ever got from University of Pittsburgh in a box in the closet so he can try to forget about it.

Some days he thinks it’s close to working.

–

By September, Geno’s only calling once a week.

–

At the beginning of October Sidney splurges on a $5 costume for Taylor at the thrift store.  He wants to take her trick-or-treating this year like Mom always did with him.

The next day the car blows a tire.

The first Pens game of the regular season is a couple of days later but Sidney pawned the TV to help pay for a new tire so he doesn’t have to worry about accidentally seeing Geno on TV.

There’s no money left for Thanksgiving dinner but he buys a pack of sliced turkey.  He and Taylor have sandwiches and peas.

–

Sidney takes Taylor trick or treating and can’t stand the sympathetic looks he gets from every single neighbor’s house they go to.

He lets her eat too much candy and she gets sick all over him in the middle of the night.

–

Geno doesn’t call at all in November.

Sidney puts away all the pictures and reminders of Geno that he can find.

He takes off the necklace and tucks it away with the ring.

He wishes he didn’t still cry every day. He wishes it didn’t hurt so much.

–

Sidney can’t bring himself to set up the tree and lights in December.  There’s no money for presents and even if there was, no one’s around to give them any anyhow.

–

A few days before Christmas a box arrives. It’s from Geno.

It contains a wrapped box for Taylor and a sealed card for Sidney.  He swallows his pride and opens the box with Taylor.  There are several warm outfits, a couple of hats and some toys for her.  

Sidney is so sick of crying.

He tucks the card away in a book without opening it.

–

On New Year’s Eve Sidney cuts up a bag of newspaper confetti.  Taylor falls asleep by nine. Sidney throws the bag of confetti in the trash and goes to bed.

–

In early January a car pulls into the drive. Sidney instinctively knows who it is.

He wonders when he got released.

He meets Troy at the door.  “What do you want?”

Troy frowns.  “Trina at work?”

Sidney feels like he’s been punched but he lets out a huff of laughter.  “No.”

“Look, Sidney, I’m really not in the mood for-”

Sidney cuts him off by shoving a copy of Trina’s funeral program into his hands. Troy looks back and forth between it and Sidney a few times before he finally reads the text and looks up, shocked. “Is this a joke?”

“Fuck you.”  Sidney makes to shut the door but Troy stops it with an outstretched arm.

“Sidney, I didn’t know.” To his credit, Troy looks completely dumbfounded.

“Well now you do.”

“What happened?”

“That’s none of your business.”

Troy furrows his brow. “What do you mean, none of my business?  She was my-”

Sidney cuts him off again. “What? She was your what?  Not your wife—you divorced her and left us when I was a baby.”

“You don’t know anything about what happened between us.”

Sidney shakes his head. “It should have been you.”

Troy freezes. “What did you say?”

“I said it should have been you.” Sidney glares hard at Troy and fights tearing up with every fiber of his being.

Troy looks like he’d like to say any number of things, none of them particularly nice, but in the end he just sets his jaw and shakes his head before he walks away.

–

Bye week is coming up again.  Sidney knows because he hears rumblings, people speculating whether Geno will spend it in town again. Every customer he waits on seems to know that Sidney and Geno were best friends and he’s constantly being asked how Geno is doing, if Sidney will visit him in Pittsburgh sometime, if Sidney can get them an autograph.  

Sidney is so tired.

–

Geno comes into the diner and, of course, sits in Sidney’s section.  

Sidney can’t ask someone else to take the table—they would know something’s up so he takes a deep breath and goes.  “Hey.  Specials today are Patty Melt with Onion rings, Turkey wrap with steamed veggies and Chicken Pot Pie.”

“Sid.”

“$6.99 a plate for the specials.”

“Sidney.”

“We also have peach pie and banana pudding on the dessert menu today.”

“Sid.”

Sidney takes a deep breath.  “What, Geno?”

“We not together so you act like you not even know me?”

“It’s not…that’s not what I’m doing.”

“Seem like it to me.”

Sidney sighs. “Why are you here?”

“I call and call, you never answer. I think maybe I go to house, you not answer door so I come here.”

Sidney feels his cheeks flush because, honestly, Geno is probably right about that. “Geno, I have to work. I can’t—I can’t just stand here and talk to you.”

“Fine. Patty Melt, no onions. Curly fries instead of onion rings.  Two sides of macaroni and cheese, order of poutine and side of baked beans with bacon.  Strawberry Lemonade and two glasses water.”

Sidney looks at him incredulously.

“Play hockey, Sid! Middle of season, always hungry,” Geno says, sounding a little defensive.

“Okay.  I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

“Sid, wait.”

Here it comes, Sidney thinks, and braces himself for what Geno has to say next.

“Diner still have honey butter?”

That isn’t what he was expecting. “Uhh, yeah?”

Geno nods. “Add basket of rolls and honey butter.”

“Okay, Geno.”

He’s hit with a split second of intense fondness before reality intrudes and he remembers Geno isn’t his anymore.

Sidney wonders if it will always hurt this much.

Each time he goes to the table, Sidney braces himself for whatever Geno wants to say to him but Geno eats (and eats and eats) and then orders and eats dessert (two slices of peach pie) and he still hasn’t said anything.  

When Sidney brings his check over Geno finally touches his wrist gently and looks up at Sidney, eyes full of hope.  “Family leave early this morning for trip to Russia.  You think about come over tonight? We talk?”

“You know I can’t do that, Geno.”

Geno sighs and gives Sidney a sad smile. “Okay. I leave tomorrow at six for airport if you change mind.”

“Geno…” Sidney’s heart hurts.

Geno stands and looks down at Sidney with sad eyes. “Doesn’t matter if today, tomorrow, a year, ten years from now, Sid.  Will always be here when you ready.”

Sidney watches him leave the diner and then looks down at the table. There’s a (huge) tip and an envelope that just says “Sid” and “Please read” on it.  Sidney swallows down the lump in his throat as he stuffs it all in his pockets.

–

Becky’s late for her overnight shift and Sidney has to work over until she gets there so it’s late when he finally gets home and retrieves a sleeping Taylor from Dorothy next door. He eases her into her crib and wants nothing more than to faceplant in bed himself but Geno’s envelope has been burning a hole in his brain all night.

He makes himself shower first before he settles on his bed and turns it over in his hands. It’s crinkled and bent where Sidney had to fold it in half to fit into his pocket. It’s not overly thick but Sidney can tell there’s probably a handful of pieces of paper in it.

He takes a deep breath and opens it.

The first thing is a pamphlet from University of Pittsburgh with the words “Student Parents” and pictures of what are apparently students with their small children on the front.  Geno has highlighted various things in the pamphlet like the section on campus daycare facilities, online classes and other resources available to students who have small children.  There are a couple of notes written in Geno’s messy scrawl.  Things like, “Offer at least 7 class for your major online,” and “Meet with teachers of one year old babies and they answer all my question but maybe you have more. Question on yellow paper.”  

Sidney shuffles the papers and plucks out a slightly crumpled paper torn from a legal pad.  On it there are—Sidney’s eyes go a little wide.  There are twenty seven questions listed out and notes all over the paper about the answers Geno got to those questions.  Things like “bring own diapers,” and “can bring own food or eat daycare food,” and “good security.”  

Sidney swallows hard and puts the pamphlet and papers aside.

The next is a printout from the University website about their student parent housing options with a note scrawled across the top.  “For if Sidney want to live on own with Taylor.”

After that is a long list that Geno has compiled of activities, book stores and places to go with toddlers in Pittsburgh.

The fifth and final piece of paper is information about internships with the Pens for physical trainers.  The note at the top says, “I talk to trainers and they say they give bigger chance for friend of player.” On the bottom of the paper, Geno has written, “Sid-Whether you be with me or not, want you to follow dreams.  Love, Geno.”

Sidney drops his head into his hands and cries for a long time.

Eventually he gathers up the papers and tucks the envelope carefully into his nightstand.  While the drawer is open, his eyes fall on the little box that he keeps the necklace and ring in.  He pulls it out and runs his fingers over it, leaning back against the headboard.  He spends a lot of time thinking before he can finally drift off to sleep.

He jerks awake sometime in the early morning hours and looks at the clock.  It’s just a couple minutes after five.  Sidney is laying there wondering why he woke up when he realizes it’s really cold in his room.

He throws on some socks and a hoodie and checks to be sure there isn’t somehow a window open and then goes to check the thermostat.  It’s set at 72* but the inside temperature is only 52.

“Fuck!”

He dashes to the closet where the heating unit is and yanks open the door.  It only takes him a minute to figure out that it’s not on and it’s not going to turn back on.  It’s -8 outside and the heat just went out.  Sidney doesn’t have a dime to fix it.  

He sinks to the floor and drops his head on his knees, crying for the second time in 6 hours, feeling crushed by the weight of everything that’s happened. It’s below freezing outside and they don’t have heat.  The car has been making a strange noise for the last week and their microwave quit working a month ago. This is it, he thinks. This is what I have to look forward to.  

He’ll always have something horrible to struggle with—broken down cars, blown tires,  broken heating systems and he will never have enough money to deal with it it.  He’ll never make enough to take care of Taylor the way she deserves.  He’ll always be living with the fear of Troy showing up again.  He’ll always be alone, will never be able to look at someone else without thinking of Geno.  

Geno who loves him so much that he went and interviewed teachers to see if they were worthy of Taylor.  Geno who loves him so much he gathered all of this information and wanted Sidney to have it even if he decided not to be with Geno.

Sidney gasps out a sob because of everything that’s crashing down on him, that’s the worst.  He loves Geno and Geno loves him and he pushed him away.  In that moment he knows it’s the biggest mistake he’s ever made, knows that he doesn’t have to do this alone— he never had to He’d been so stupid that he let the only person in the world that he’s ever been able to truly count on go.  In less than an hour he’ll be leaving again for Pittsburgh and—

Sidney jumps up.

There’s still time.

The call goes straight to voicemail.  Geno’s phone isn’t on.

He crams his feet into shoes before running to gently pull Taylor out of her crib.  “I’m so sorry, Tay.  We have to go.  We need to go see Geno, okay?”  

He dresses her in layers and then puts her snowsuit and hat on over all of it.  She’s not thrilled.

He yanks on his own hat, gloves and coat and then grabs a fleece blanket for Taylor for good measure before hustling out to the car.

It doesn’t start.

Sidney tries and tries but it just makes a clicking sound and he bites back his tears as he pulls an increasingly cranky Taylor out of her carseat and bundles the blanket over her in his arms.  It’s just three blocks, they can make it.  He’ll run if he has to.  

He gets there at 5:48 but there’s no car in the driveway and his heart sinks.  He rings the bell.  When no one answers he rings it again.  And again.  By the third time he knows no one will answer.  He waited too long.

Geno is gone.

It takes him longer to trudge home but he tries to keep a quick pace, if for no other reason than to get Taylor out of the cold, not that it’s much warmer in their house. He wonders what will happen to them if he can’t figure out a way to fix the heat. Probably nothing good.

Tears track down his cheeks as he apologizes softly to her while he carries her home. “I’m so sorry, Taylor.  I’m so sorry. I was too late. I messed up and I was too late.  He loves us and he would have taken care of us.  We would have been a family and I blew it.”

Sidney is devastated.

He turns the corner onto their street and freezes when he looks up.

There’s a car parked behind his in the driveway.

Geno.

Sidney runs the rest of the way, despite Taylor’s protests and bounds up onto the porch where his front door is hanging open. “Geno?”

Geno dashes out of the hallway to the front door. “Sid!  Where you go? I come here, think try one last time and your front door open, car door open.  Can’t find you.  You and Taylor gone and I’m so scared!”  He moves close and grips Sidney’s cheeks. Sidney doesn’t pull away.

“Sid what wrong? What happen? Why you out in cold with Taylor? Why you cry?”  Geno looks so shaken and Sidney doesn’t know how he ever could have pushed him away.

His lip quivers as he speaks. “You said you were leaving at six and I just, I wanted to see if…if it’s not too late…”

Geno’s eyes open a little wider.  “You mean, Sid? You want?”

Tears are spilling over again as Sidney nods and rasps out, “I’m so sorry, Geno.  I love you. I miss you so much.  You are the best person I’ve ever known and I’ve been so stupid.”

“Oh Sid.  I tell you already. Never too late.” And then Geno kisses him and the weight of the world is gone from Sidney’s shoulders.

A few hours later, the three of them board a plane to Pittsburgh.