#one time i brought my grandpa a drawing of a girl sitting in a chair and he said that's not what chairs look like

[thedreadvampy]

I think we can all agree there's nothing punker than painstakingly measuring out and iterating a design for your chaotic bleach painting

dear god my draughtsman grandfather truly altered the path of my life when I was but 4.

[theyreonlynoodlesmike]

A Reading: Part 8 (Poly!Lost Boys x Fem!Witch Reader)

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Warnings: mentions of death/blood/violence, witchcraft,

Word Count: 2.8k

Another plot chapter babes :)

You'd followed him into the house, shutting the door behind you. There was a weird sense of deja-vu that set over you as you walked through it. You saw books everywhere, plants hanging off the walls, taxidermy lining the shelves, and you thought you even heard the jingle of a bell before the sound of scurrying feet. It reminded you of your own little caravan, except bigger. He led you into a kitchen, and there, sitting at the table reading a book and drinking tea, was an older woman.

If you couldn't tell by the simple sight of her, the fact that the spoon was stirring by itself was a dead giveaway that she was the witch. She looked up from her book, and the spoon stopped. You froze when her eyes landed on you. She felt familiar, but you couldn't place it. You expected something, some sort of burst of energy that your crystal would block. But nothing came. Instead, she smiled and motioned to the chair at her right side. It pulled out by itself, and she said,

"Hello, dear. Sit. I believe we have some things to discuss." And you could already feel your anxiety growing. She had telekinesis, like you did. It wasn't a rare talent in a witch, but it was one that usually gave you an advantage. It seemed, for now, you'd have to surrender the idea of having any advantages over the older woman. The man had taken the chair opposite of you, and you sat down slowly. "Tea?" She asked, and you politely nodded. You watched as the teapot and two cups floated over. One was placed in front of the old man, and one in front of you. The tea was poured into both cups from the same teapot, so the idea of her poisoning you was quickly discarded. A small bowl of sugar, a small pitcher of milk, and two spoons floated over as well. She let you make your tea as you liked, with the old man taking it black. You, keeping your wits about, did the same. You stared between the two of them, before you said,

"Um," You didn't know where to begin. You knew that she knew of you, but you hadn't expected her to expect you. It took you a moment to think about the situation, thinking if anything had been done on purpose. Maybe she just had a vision, you thought. Either way, you thought it was as good of a way to start as any. "How did you know I was coming?" You asked, and she smiled around her cup before she placed it back on the table.

"Figured you were a smart girl." She said, gesturing to the paper in your hands. "Any witch worth her salt knows to check." She finished, and you gave her a small smile. So, she'd called me on purpose, you thought. Interesting. It seems it might've been a test, but you weren't going to ask that much. Instead, your eyes flicked to the man across from you. He didn't seem to be like the pair of you, or to be supernatural at all. While it wasn't forbidden to do magic in front of regular people, it wasn't entirely encouraged. "Oh, this is Mr. Emerson. The grandfather of the boys your vampires are trying to turn." And you couldn't stop yourself from gulping. Oh, this was awkward. Despite that introduction, the man in front of you still seemed warm. The older woman seemed to realize then that she hadn't introduced herself. "Oh, dear, and I'm Mrs. Johnson." She finished, and you stuttered as you gave her your name.

"They're- they're not my vampires. I met them a couple of days ago and-" But she was raising a hand. Silencing you. The second she did, it hit you. Why you thought she felt familiar. You remembered your dream, the night before. The not-dream. The astral projection. The poppets, candles, sigils. Everything. if you hadn't remembered, you would've thought to be irked. You clamped your mouth shut as she said,

"I know, dear. You were just passing through, right? Well, you caught their attention and you- Well, you changed things. Made them a little more complicated." She said, stirring her tea with her hand this time. You could guess how she meant. While witches usually left eachothers territory alone, it wasn't encouraged to hurt one another. Killing another witch? Highly frowned upon. Not only was it bad luck, but witches were a dying race anyways. You expected her to continue, but Mr. Emerson did instead,

"I've been friends with Mrs. Johnson for a very long time. She's helped me with all kinds of hunts." You froze at the words, but Grandpa quickly shook his hands. "Vampire hunts. Retired a few years back." He specified, before continuing. His smile made you relax, and you sipped the tea just after he did. "You see, you happened to come to Santa Carla at a very bad time." Hell, did you already know that. Really, you were starting to think that you should've gone just a town up the map. Grandpa folded his hands, leaning forward. "I'd be able to spot a vampire blind-folded in the dark, so imagine my surprise when my grandson comes home a half." He said, gesturing with one hand. You nodded. You could imagine his distress. "Now, obviously, we can't have him turning. We already know who the head is and we just need to draw him out. Then, we can kill him and everything will be done." He said, holding out his hands and smiling like it was a foolproof plan. With the protection on his grandsons, maybe it was. It explained why the boys hadn't slaughtered them. A couple of teens, a couple of halves, and a retired hunter? Sure, they had the numbers, but it would've been sheer dumb luck if there was no outside interference. You looked between the two of them.

"So, what do you want from me?" You asked. You guessed they wouldn't have brought you here for nothing. And, since they hadn't tried to kill you yet, you thought they were going to ask you to do whatever it was first. Mr. Emerson looked at you, at Mrs. Johnson, and then back as he let out a small laugh. Mrs. Johnson was pressing her lips together, suppressing a smile. 

"Well, plain and simple? We want you to back off. Your protections are leveling out the playing field, so to say, and we can't have that." Mr. Emerson said, and you frowned then. So, they were calling for a cease fire. At least, from you. They noticed your silence, and Mr. Emerson quickly jumped back in to fill it. "Now, we know you really had nothing to do with this. You just got into town, and you probably haven't even met my grandson. They may have employed you, but you're not at fault." He said, waving his hands towards you. "No harm will come to you. From us or them. Mrs. Johnson will make sure of that." You glanced at Mrs. Johnson, and she gave you a nod. They must've guessed that you'd had your hands tied. Originally, you had. "And once the head is dead? Well, you can pack up and be on your way." He finished, and you were silent for another moment. Your eyes left them and went to the cup of tea in front of you.

It was a good offer. A really good offer. Step back and do nothing? And get protection, freedom, and the ability to leave Santa Carla in return? Hell of a good deal. Still, you didn't jump on it like they expected you to. You didn't jump on it like you expected yourself to. You thought of the boys, of their deaths. They'd die just to draw out the head, you thought. It wasn't fair. For all four of them to die just for that. You hadn't seen their deaths, but, looking into the cup, you practically could. It wouldn't be pleasant for any of them. They'd all probably go down kicking and screaming. Screaming for you to come save them. You gulped, looking away from the tea to glance between the two elders.

"No." You said. It was definitive and sounded more sure than you felt. You hadn't known the boys for long, but that didn't mean you wouldn't keep your word. You weren't going to back on what you'd told Dwayne. You remembered the relief you'd seen on his face, the same relief you'd seen on Markos. You remembered Paul's smile, and David's words. Even if he was as cuddly as a cactus at the best of times, he didn't want you dead. You decided to let that mean more than it probably did. 

"Dear, you don't know what you're-" Mrs. Johnson had reached for your hand, laid her warm fingers on top of your own. You pulled your hand back. They felt too warm, like they were going to scorch your skin. You'd grown too used to the feeling of cold flesh. There was a threat edging her voice, but one that made you harden. You were tired. Tired of being scared and of people assuming that you were incapable of protecting yourself. Defending yourself. It was true that you were petrified, that you didn't really know how to get yourself out of this situation. You weren't the boys, you weren't David. Truthfully, you thought it should be him in your place. But it wasn't. That didn't mean you couldn't act like him. Couldn't think like him.

You went over what they'd already told you in the seconds the words left her mouth. Mr. Emerson had said you'd levelled out the playing field. Really, you'd taken away the Emerson's advantage. If either side had a witch, then the outcome was obviously in the boys' favor. Not to mention, she said you'd changed things. You thought about how she'd blocked you from being able to do your readings, from being able to glance into the future. Maybe...

"Kill me and my spells become permanent. That's what a smart witch would do, right?" You interrupted, and tilted your head at Mrs. Johnson. "Making the playing field even, like you said." You gestured to the man across from you. You looked down at your cup. It was easier to be confident when you were looking at your own reflection. You thought of how David talked, how he acted. Like he was one step ahead and like he owned the room. You needed more of a power shift, so you continued. "My friends might not be with me, but if I'm not at the end of the street by sunrise, they go to their sire. Even playing field and five vampires. Sounds like a problem." You paused, sipping your tea. You looked up. Neither of them seemed pleased, and Mrs. Johnson went as far as narrowing her eyes. You didn't know if she could read minds, but, if she did, she'd see that you weren't bluffing. Neither of them spoke. You had them in a corner, and they'd hoped you wouldn't notice. Unfortunately, you had. "Now, I'm not a vampire expert, but I'm guessing the territory situation isn't that different from a witch's. So, best case scenario, this coven dies and...what?" You said, looking between them. Again, you were met with more silence. And it was exhilarating. They looked between eachother. It was clear they hadn't thought that far ahead. They were just trying to keep Michael from turning. "New coven moves in? Big hot spot, Santa Carla. Attracts lots of tourists. Will probably attract a lot of rival covens too." Now, you knew you weren't heeding David's warning. It was clear they were getting tired of your yapping, but you knew, on some level, the boys might've been impressed. Especially David.

"What are you getting at?" Mr. Emerson snipped, and you had to suppress a smirk. You shook your head.

"A retired hunter, a couple of hunter wannabes, and a witch." You held up a finger for each thing you listed off. "The first thing the new covens will do is try to clean house, and you and your family won't last the summer." You said flatly. 

It was true. You'd read it in your ancestors journal. Vampires only respected other vampires, and you were sure there'd be plenty trying to stake a claim on a spot like Santa Carla. Tourists, its crime rate, and general reputation? It was a dream come true. And if they killed the last coven, their names would be on missing posters before the Emerson's could even celebrate. The only thing preventing that was the current coven holding onto the territory.

Grandpa shook his head, letting out a laugh. He shook a finger at you, but Mrs. Johnson didn't seem to think you were funny. She was thinking your words over, trying to find a way to make you wrong. Some of the words your ancestor had written rang in your head. They'd written that, with vampires, it was best to avoid. And, if you couldn't avoid, to appease. All other routes hardly went the way they'd hope. You took another sip of your tea.

"So, what do you suggest?" Mrs. Johnson said. It seemed to pain her to ask the question. You tilted your head before you put the tea down. That was a good question, but there was only one thing you really wanted. 

"Leave the boys alone." You started. It was the only thing you'd promised, and the only thing you really desired. You wanted the boys to live, and you wanted them to live up to their part of the deal. Even if you knew you should head out of Santa Carla the second you weren't needed.

Still, you weren't going to be unfair and you knew you needed to give them something in return. There was only one thing you really could give them.

"And I'll convince them to let you kill Max."

***

That was a feat that was going to be easier said than done. You stood on the street corner, replaying the conversation over and over in your mind. It had gone well all things considered. You'd bought the boys time, and you promised the Emerson's, and Mrs. Johnson, something that they wanted. Kill Max and Michael is human once again. You'd talked about what would happen afterwards, and you'd made it clear that the boys would inherit his territory. They'd avoid them, and vice versa. They had no reason to betray you, as the only good course of action was the one you'd detailed. You let out a breath. So, why were you so nervous?

You tried to empty your mind. Make it so they had to hear it come out of your mouth instead from the unfiltered thoughts inside your head.

"For someone trying not to think, your thoughts are pretty loud." A voice said behind you, and you jumped. You turned, staring into the face of the bleached blonde. His eyes seemed half amused, and you watched as a slight smirk came onto his face before he reached inside his coat. You had placed a hand over your chest, before you let out a breath. You tried your best, but his words didn't give you any hope that you'd succeed. So, you sighed and ran a hand through your hair.

"It went okay. I-I met Grandpa Emerson." You said, and you watched as he blinked in surprise. You were just supposed to meet the witch, but it was clear how they'd manage to employ her to help them then. He cursed under his breath. It was obvious they hadn't realized he was going to be a threat, and you quickly tried to keep his mood up with good news. "I got them to agree to let you live." You said, and David paused at that. A half-scoff left his lips as he lit his cigarette. The flick of his flame, the leather of his gloves. You wondered if he'd have the same effect on you if he wasn't a vampire. You wondered if he'd been just the same when he was human. Still, you could practically see the thoughts in his head. That it wasn't really their decision if they lived or not.

"How's that?" He asked, and you didn't miss his tone. He was half-serious, half playing at arrogance. Still, you answered his question just the same. The words were hard to get out, and you wished it wasn't just David that you had to say them to.

"I said you'd give them Max." You waited with bated breath. You expected a flash of anger, just like the flick of his lighter. Cruel words, icy eyes, and perhaps even the same violence you'd seen the first night. Instead, he blew the smoke out of the corner of his mouth and asked,

"Is that it?"

[danineverwenttoazkaban]

Sweet Elite - Fic 2 (Tyler Route)

So since chapter 14 is just around the corner, I hurried up on this small piece I had been writing for a while. It's fluffy but I don't mind because Tyler is adorable.

I recommend listening to the song I was hearing when I wrote it (Slide Away by Oasis) because the lyrics are incredibly romantic and it's just one of my favorite songs ever.

Hope you guys like it!

Slide Away

He was too beautiful, like really so mesmerizing. He wasn’t even doing anything special, just smiling as he checked his cell phone but dear god, that smile, that stupidly dreamy smile. A week had passed since classes had started again at Arlington and after the trip to Ellie’s chalet, the constant teasing from all of their friends hadn’t stopped so they hadn’t been really alone until now when they had unconsciously woken up earlier than the others for breakfast.

“Hey Scholar, are you ok?”, she heard Tyler’s voice ask.

“Oh… sorry, Tyler, I spaced out there for a sec”, she answered embarrassed for getting caught in the lovestruck moment.

“Huh, cute”, he smirked, arching his right eyebrow, a gesture Scholar had named as the ‘Tyler pose’. With his eyes fixed on Scholar, he seemed to think intently on something before standing up and walking slowly towards Scholar. She flinched a bit at his sudden closeness as he offered his hand out to her.

“Err… would you come with me somewhere? I want to show you something”, Tyler said suddenly blushing.

Startled, Scholar took his hand and stood up from the chair. It never ceased to surprise her how from time to time he would show a display of confidence which was different from his outgoing self, a more serious confidence. “Am I going to regret this?”

“You offend me, Scholar. When have I ever made you regret anything?”, he smirked. They were eye to eye level, his dark eyes so inviting. He smiled, “trust me?”

“I always trust you, Tyler”, she said softly.

“Let’s go then”, he said dragging her towards the hallway.

The school really seemed to be deserted except for the few people at the cafeteria. Hand in hand Tyler guided them towards the Arts Classroom, which was off limits whenever Mr. Boss wasn’t around. He pulled out a small wire from his pocket and started fidgeting the lock.

“Tyler, what are you doing?”, she whispered nervously checking if someone was around, “I don’t think we’re allowed to enter the Arts Classroom!”

“Shoot, Scholar, no one is going to see us… besides as Mr. Boss’ favorite student I have special privileges”

“Where did you ever learn to pick locks anyway?”

“You’ll have to ask tinker girl”, he chuckled as they heard a soft ‘clic’ sound, “… There!”

Reluctantly, Scholar followed Tyler inside the room. She had barely been inside this classroom during her time at Arlington, except for the time Tyler and her had decorated it for Halloween. The large windows at the front of the room allowed the sun to shine widely illuminating the canvas and paintings of the Fine Arts Department’s students that were hanging over the walls. Even though, she barely knew anything about art, Scholar found the room oddly endearing.

“Sometimes when I want to be alone on the weekends, I come here. That way I can work on more personal stuff”, said Tyler breaking the silence.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, most of the time I paint because I have to for the class or assignments but I rarely get to paint what I want to”, he answered.

“Oh, makes sense. And what do you like to paint?”

“It varies”, he walked towards the very back of the room, “come here and I’ll show you”

Scholar joined him next to a set of boxes, each of the boxes had a name written in black marker. He opened the one with his name, inside there was a bunch of piled up paintings and sketches. He selected a few of them and motioned to Scholar to sit on the floor next to him. The first drawing was of a beautiful woman with short curly hair, she was wearing yellow pants and a light blue blouse and was sitting on what appeared to be the rock of a cliff that led into the ocean. Her face seemed very familiar and she wondered…

“Is she your mom?”

“Yes, on the rare occasion I get to spend time with her, we like going to the cliff that’s close to our house and just stare at the ocean for hours. I painted this last summer, she makes a great model, doesn’t she?”, he said smiling at the thought.

“She does, she is very beautiful…”, answered Scholar. She fixated on how their smiles were so similar, both Tyler and her mother seemed to have the kind of smile that projected a lovable charismatic energy, “…you have that same dazzling smile”

Tyler’s eyes widened at Scholar’s last remark and he blushed. “I wished I had half her confidence, though. She always lights up any room the moment she enters.”

“Frankly, Tyler, you already have that quality. Whenever you’re around everything is nicer and energetic… I feel so much better when I’m with you.”

Tyler turned to look at her, his piercing dark eyes melted her on the spot for their carried such adoration on his expression. No one aside from Tyler had ever looked at her this way, “Likewise, Scholar, I feel better when we’re together”

She had to look away, unable to bare his intense gaze any longer. He chuckled at her embarrassment and drew nearer to her, their arms touching. Scholar leaned on his shoulder and took his right hand on hers, loving the warmness of it.

“I know we texted a lot during winter break but I really missed you”, Scholar said staring at their intertwined fingers.

He put his left arm around her waist bringing her closer, “I missed you too, so much my grandpa was tired of me talking about ‘that pretty girl from Arlington’ all the time.”

“I think my dad would had been tired of me too had he not gone complete ‘fanboy’ mode when I told him about you and your parents”

“Well at least I know the ‘meet the father’ dinner won’t go terrible”

Scholar laughed. She straightened up to look at him. The sight of him so close to her again after the winter break, although she had like someone before she had never felt so drawn and amused by someone the way she felt for him. She wondered if this was the moment to finish what they had started on that cold basement or if it was wiser to do it slowly, carefully so they could both cherish everything they were feeling. She decided on the latter but unable to resist completely, she brought her lips to his left cheek, his skin felt so smooth. She leaned her head again on his shoulder and sighed as he turned to kiss the top of her head.

END

[thelionbyname]

Together We Are One (prequel part 5)

(This has kind of evolved from a fanfiction into its own story, but eh, enjoy!)

“Hey Impulse! What’s going on? Little Tango called and said you wanted me to come.” A friendly voice drifted through the house, preceding its owner: another old man, but one who still had streaks of blond hair visible between the grey strands. This man walked in slightly bent over, not because of age, but because a very small girl was clinging onto his index finger. Together, they walked over to the center of the room, where a gathering of sorts seemed to be taking place. Four toddlers were sitting on the ground, facing the old man with the dirty shirt: Impulse.

Impulse looked up at the newcomers and replied, “Zed! Yeah, well... I think it’s time to tell them, and I thought it would be easier for both of us if we did it together.”

Whatever Zed had been expecting, this wasn’t it. It seemed Impulse had uncovered some memories he had tried to suppress. His eyes were suddenly filled with pain, pain that had not been there the first time, that now crashed back like a boomerang; only temporarily disposed of. He dove head first into the rabbit hole of memories that, despite having been in a hidden corner of his mind for thirty years, were clear as day, made fresh through the pain that stained them.

“Gwampa, what’s wong?” The innocent voice of the small child pulled him out of his whirlwind of thoughts, and Zed was suddenly aware of the girl gently tugging his finger.

“I’m okay, Tekkie. Go sit down.” And to Impulse, he said, “Yeah… I guess it is.”

The little girl, Tekkie, her grandpa’s troubles already forgotten, ran over to sit next to Tango and held his hand. Her soft fingers, which had not yet lost their baby fat, easily wove through his, and were clearly very comfortable doing so. He grinned at her, and she flashed a dimpled smile back. Then they turned their heads to face their grandpas.

Zed had taken a seat in the chair normally occupied by Impulse’s wife. He automatically reached for his friend’s hand in comfort, but he didn’t know if he was comforting Impulse or himself.

And in this position, hand in hand, they started.

Though there was still pain, it was a relief to talk about it, together. It was mostly Impulse talking, because he had spent his entire life dwelling on this, analysing every mistake, remembering every thought. Every time he paused for breath, however, Zedaph continued, contributing his own perspective.

The five toddlers listened intently to the most epic tale they had ever heard. They were very good listeners, gasping at the right time, whimpering when a character died, never interrupting. Only the oldest, Tango, was aware that this was all real, not just some story.

When their grandpas got to the part where little Tango’s namesake disappeared, they could not continue. Zedaph let out a sob.

Little Tango didn’t make them continue; for a five-year-old, he was very emotion-sensitive and seemed to know exactly when it was too much. Instead, he asked them, “Did they ever come back?” though he already knew the answer.

Impulse fought to hold back tears, and choked out, “No… they never came back.”

At the same time, in another world...

“Screwdriver.”

“This one? Here you go.”

“Wrench.”

“You could ask politely.”

With the sound of metal rolling over concrete, a man emerged from beneath a complicated-looking machine. He lay on a skateboard he was using as a car creeper, and his face was smeared with oil and what looked like rust. The man blew his moustache away from his mouth with a sigh of exasperation. “For efficiency reasons I find it easier to name what I need, rather than go ‘Tango, could you hand me that drill over there?’ every time.”

“At least say please?” Tango replied.

Mumbo rolled his eyes and disappeared under the machine again. For a moment there was no sound except the steady tap, tap, tap, of a hammer, but then Mumbo spoke again. “Bolt, please.”

Grinning, Tango handed one to him and replied “That’s more like it.” He heard a sigh come out from under the machine, but he could tell Mumbo was smiling. Tango turned when he heard footsteps approaching them. Suddenly, he stood face to face with Xisuma. “Gah! You startled me, X!”

X chuckled and looked down to where Mumbo’s hair was visible. “Nearly done, Mumbo? I have something to tell you guys”

“Almost.” Mumbo sounded like he had his tongue between his teeth in concentration. There was the low buzzing of a drill, and then Mumbo rolled out from beneath the machine again. “There! It’s finished! Phew… I’ve been working on that for weeks!”

“Amazing! So now all Tango has to do is program it.”

“Yes. That’ll be done within a few minutes. But you said you had to tell us something, X?” Tango reminded him.

“Yeah. Could you follow me to the meeting room? Falsie, Grian, and Keralis are waiting for us.”

The three of them walked into the next room, where indeed there were three other people sitting around a table, playing cards. False, Grian and Keralis looked up as they entered. They looked expectantly at Mumbo, who answered the question in their minds. “It’s done,” he said, with a hint of pride in his voice. They cheered, and Grian gave Mumbo a high-five. Sort of, because since he was sitting and Mumbo was super tall, Mumbo had to give a low five to Grian’s high five.

Xisuma walks carefully past a wall covered in weapons and over to a mobile whiteboard. He turned to face the rest, who had all sat down and were patiently waiting.

“I have some rather depressing news. Every day, I walk out of my apartment and meet my neighbor, who leaves at the same time. When I first moved in three years ago and met her for the first time, she was cradling a baby of perhaps four months old. Last week, when I saw her, she was holding that same baby. Then I realised, over the course of three years, that baby had not aged at all. I see them every single morning, yet I had not registered this until last week.

“So naturally, I decided to get to the bottom of it. I found pictures of us from when we had just arrived in this dimension, and saw that none of us have changed at all either. Of course, that doesn’t say much, because adults simply don’t change much over a mere three years, which is probably why we didn’t notice before.” He paused for breath, and Grian spoke.

“So, we don’t age. Is that really such a bad thing?” He grinned.

Xisuma didn’t smile. He looked at Grian sadly, and Grian’s smile vanished. “I wasn’t done. While I was trying to find out exactly what was going on, I found some other information. I asked Tango to hack into NASA for me-”

“So that’s what that was for!” Tango interrupted. Then, catching Xisuma’s eye, “Sorry.”

“NASA managed to do quite a bit of research on the time machine before we stole it. It is a miracle that Mumbo was able to fix it, when some of the best scientists in this world couldn’t. But the point is, I found some things. We previously thought that the black hole sent us to another dimension. We were wrong. We are on the same earth, but in a different timeline.”

This revelation was followed by shocked and comprehending gasps from those listening. 

Xisuma nodded absent mindedly, and continued. “Black holes warp time. This explains why we don’t age. Time flows differently here. We didn’t go through the black hole, we are inside it. It doesn’t just freeze all organic matter into one state, it slows time as we experience it. For us it feels like we have been here for three years, but back home in the other timeline, it has been ten times as long. So for the other hermits, we have been gone for three decades. They probably think we’re all dead.”

This time there were pained gasps. Remorse transformed each of their features as they realised how their friends must feel.

“But it’s not all bad. Our original plan to get back was to use the time machine to travel across dimensions, but now that we know that doesn’t apply, I made some adjustments. We need to travel through time. We know the risks of messing with the past, but it is the only way to get back. You see,” He paused and started drawing on the whiteboard. He drew a straight line from left to right, and then split the line at the end so it resulted in a rotated Y of sorts. “This is what the timeline would look like, were it possible to visualise it. This,” he gestured to the bottom of the Y, “ is when we were all still back home. And here,” he pointed at the intersection, where all the lines came together, “is where we went into the black hole. We went to one timeline, while the other Hermits continued on the other. So the only way to go back to them is to take the time machine back to before we went into the black hole, because any time after that, we would still be in this timeline.” Xisuma looked around to see if they understood. It looked like some were still processing all the information, but there was only as much confusion as what was to be expected.

False spoke up. “That means that when we go back and change the past, we erase all the suffering we caused them, and their entire timeline,” she stood up and walked to the board, “will vanish.” she wiped away one of the split-off lines.

“Exactly,” Xisuma nodded. “We need to stay hidden until our past selves have gone into the black hole, because otherwise we could seriously mess up the past. This means that we have to stay far away, because past Tango or past Cleo could sense our presence.”

At this, Tango’s eyes widened. “That’s right! I used to have telepathy! I had entirely forgotten about that…” His eyes glazed over for a second, clearly seeing things the rest could not. Xisuma’s smooth British voice brought him back to the present.

“Right, yeah. I found information about that during my deep dive into NASA’s archive, too. NASA has two theories; the first being that the black hole runs on a different frequency, one that is not compatible with magic. The magic is still in the air somewhere, but humans can’t access it. The second theory is that magic is entirely dead here, because the vortex is too powerful, and magic simply can’t survive.”

They all sat and stared blankly, remembering a better time, when they were above the regular laws of humanity. They never knew why their powers had ceased to exist when they regained consciousness after being thrown around the void, until now. At least, a theory as to why. As they thought back to when they were more than human, the homesickness was suddenly overwhelming. From one moment to the next, they were all desperate to go home. It had always remained their home, all three years they had spent elsewhere. It had never felt truly theirs here.

Tango cleared his throat, which suddenly had a lump in it, and said, “I say we leave as soon as possible. I’m going to go program the time machine so it’s ready to go.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, some wiping the silent tears from their cheeks. Tango speed walked into the room with the time machine; he couldn’t get there fast enough.

Once he disappeared past the door frame, Keralis spoke for the first time that evening. “I agree with Tango. Let’s go home. Today. Anyone have things in their apartments they want to bring to the past?” He looked around, studying each face individually. He realised he hadn’t really seen them since coming here, to this new world. He knew he would only see the ghost of his past life. 

“Nah, but I do want to keep these cool suits,” Mumbo said, gesturing to the six spy outfits on display in glass cases along the wall behind him.

“I second that. I just want to go home,” Grian concurs.

Within a few minutes, as Tango had promised, the time machine was ready for departure. Somehow they all managed to squeeze into the machine designed to transport one person.

With effort, Xisuma got enough oxygen to say, “Tango, you did program this properly, right? You were in quite a rush.”

“Yes, X. Have some faith in my abilities, please.” Tango rolled his eyes. “Ready? Here we go!” he pulled a large lever- with difficulty- and they vanished in a bright flash.

                                            *          *          *

[waywardodysseys]

Eight Days of Christmas - Day 6

Christmastime is Here

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x female reader

Warnings: cussing

Summary: Your eleventh Christmas with Ransom Drysdale.

Day 1 / Day 2 / Day 3 / Day 4 / Day 5

(divider by @firefly-graphics​)

You walk through Faneuil Hall with your two-year-old son, Oliver, trying to find the perfect gift for Ransom, who happens to be shopping as well. The two of you deciding to come down to the famed marketplace to enjoy one of your holiday traditions with your son. The marketplace is extravagantly decorated with holiday décor as Christmas music filters through the speakers and the smell of gingerbread cookies and roasted chestnuts drift through the air. Christmastime is here and the frenzied crowd’s milling about, trying to find the perfect gift for whoever they are shopping for.

You and Oliver have been weaving through the crowd, going into various stores. Most of them were for Oliver to look at the toys or some clothes. You had taken him into a store, showing him a few things, his father might like. “What do you think, Oli?” you inquire.

“Daddy has sweaters. Anda clothes. What ‘bout toy?”

“This is for your dad, not you.” you answer and receive a frown in return. “What about a watch? Hmmm? Or maybe something for the Beamer?”

“We could get ‘m a new car!”

You laugh, “Your dad would be a horrendous Grinch for the rest of his days if we got rid of the Beamer.” Along with me. Because there were still times you and Ransom took the silver car out when enjoying a night out on the town and the two of you ended up getting down and dirty in the car before making it into the house. It was also where you and Ransom did the deed for the first time because you couldn't help yourself when he pulled up to his house all those years ago on the fourth date.

“Momma!” Oli’s voice brings you out of your memories. You turn to find your son ogling some high ultra tech drones. You walk over to him and crouch down to his level. “I’m sure he’ll let you play with it, but know it’s your father’s toy not yours.”

Oli nods his head in response, too engrossed in looking at the pricey mechanical devices. You smile as you stand and begin talking to the retail associate.

*

Half an hour later you are walking back through the marketplace, holding Oli’s hand. Soon you’d meet Ransom for lunch, and he’d take Oliver for a couple of hours while you looked for a gift for Ransom from yourself. Currently, no doubt, he was probably overthinking a gift for you or one of his family members. He had always been prepared for this day but knew he had to outdo the gifts of the previous year.

“Momma?” Oli questions from below.

“Yes?” You stop and look down at him. 

“Where’s daddy?” He looks up at you with tiredness in his eyes. 

You reach down and pick him up. “He’s shopping for Grandma Linda, Grandpa Richard. And the rest of his family.” You and Ransom had agreed when you were first married he’d buy all their gifts because he’d know what they want and like then you wrapped them and placed both of your names under the ‘from’ on the tag. You had been doing the same for your own family. It worked out perfectly every time. 

“Nana? Papa?”

He’s referring to your parents. “I will be shopping for them after we meet daddy for lunch.”

“I hungry!”

You cuddle him into your chest as your stomach growls. “Me too. How about we find a place to eat? Huh? I’ll let him know where we are, okay?”

He nods his head and buries his head in the crook of your neck. He whispers, “Otay.”

-------

You and Oliver are sitting inside Anthem Kitchen and Bar, which is near Faneuil Hall. You had texted Ransom where you were heading and he responded immediately, telling you he was finishing up at a store and would join you shortly.

“There’s my beautiful family,” Ransom remarks as he approaches you. He places a brief kiss on your lips then places a kiss on Oliver’s head. “How are my two favorite people?” he inquires as he places his bags down and takes a seat.

“Hungry!” Oliver boasts. “Momma say I canna have burger or chicken sticks.”

You laugh and shrug, “Close enough. Though I did say chicken tenders.”

Ransom smiles, “Whatever you want, buddy.” Ransom reaches under the table and finds your hand and squeezes it. “Something’s on your mind. What is it?”

You watch Oli scribble on a coloring sheet then glance at your husband. “Our son made me reminisce about a particular silver car.”

One of Ransom’s brows pops up, “I can call my mom. Have her watch Oli tonight.” He leans in closer to you and cups your cheek. “I’d love to take you for a spin. As well as the car.” Your cheeks are hot as Ransom chuckles. “Any specific moment you were thinking about sweetheart?”

You swallow. Happy your husband still knows how to keep things lively no matter what the occasion is. “Our fourth date.”

Ransom moans under his breath, “You couldn't keep your hands off me that night. And I think it was because you had agreed to it on the fourth date because you declined me on the first one.”

“I wasn't about to let you get what you truly wanted on the first date.”

“Well, I did get to second base with you that night.”

“Ransom!” you hiss as you giggle.

“You in trouble daddy!” Oli exclaims.

Ransom pulls back and looks at Oli. “I know I am. But I think she’ll forgive me later.” He winks at his son. Oli smiles widely and laughs. 

The server appears seconds later, and three lunch orders are given. They disappear again and are not seen until lunch is brought out and placed on the table. 

After lunch is over, Ransom, you, and Oliver walk back out into the chilly winter air. A now fed Oliver is bursting at the seams, ready to shop with his father.

“What we buyin’ momma?” Oli inquires as Ransom scoops him up into his arms.

“We gotta discuss it when she’s not around Oli.” Ransom leans over and presses a kiss to your lips. They linger for a minute before he pulls away. “Couple of hours? And I’ll call my mom about watching Oli.”

“Grandmama Linda? She’s here?”

Ransom shakes his head, “Not here. Maybe she’ll watch you tonight while your mom and I shop for you.”

You shake your head and laugh at Ransom’s lame excuse to cover him and you are having a date night. Which included the Beamer and possibly reenacting your fourth date. You lean over and kiss Oli’s cheek then place a kiss on Ransom’s lips. “That should be enough time.” You look between the two of them and your heart swells. “Take care of one another.”

“We will,” Ransom and Oli respond in unison. 

“I love you.”

“I love you.” “Love you momma.” Ransom and Oli respond at the same time. 

You turn and make your way back towards Faneuil Hall while Ransom looks at his son and inquires, “What shall we get her?”

Oliver shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“Makeup? Jewelry?”

“She already beautiful daddy. She dontna need that.”

Ransom laughs, “No she doesn't. I got lucky with her, you got lucky too having her as your mom.” He pauses, “What about a new purse?  She loves her handbags.”

-------

Hours later, wrapping paper, gift bags, and tissue paper are strewn about the kitchen island and table as you and Ransom wrap presents. Oliver had fallen asleep on the car ride home and thankfully, Ransom had gotten him into the house and up to his room without him waking up while you unloaded the car with dozens of shopping bags. Both you and Ransom then grabbed the wrapping supplies and set up shop in the kitchen.

“Did you peak?” Ransom now inquires as he tries to wrap a box.

“I did not,” you respond, “you always hide it.” You pause, “Or maybe you always buy my gift last minute.”

“I do not. I’ve learned over the years to buy early. You know I still hate the frenzied crowds and the mad drivers. All of them fucking assholes.”

You laugh, “There’s my Grinch.”

Ransom grins, “A couple more weeks and Santa gets to visit.”

“I’ll be ready. As always.” You look over at him. “You called Linda?”

“Yes. She’ll be over at six to pick Oli up. Says he can spend the night too.”

You snort, “She rarely wants him to spend the night.” Then a realization hit you. “Please don't tell me you told her we--”

“I told her no such thing. She said something about taking him to brunch tomorrow with my dad and the three of them could go do something afterwards. Knows what it’s like to have a young boy at his age, knows his parents want some quiet.”

“I’ll have to make sure to get her something else along with what you bought her.” You see Ransom shrug. “It’ll be from me, big spender.”

Ransom sighs, “I just don't get why we can't draw names. There’s a dozen of us now.”

“You know Harlan likes tradition. He’ll never cave into that.”

Ransom curses under his breath. “I also hate wrapping. Why can't everything go in a gift bag? Or better yet the volunteers at the marketplace could’ve wrapped ‘em.”

“We always wrap our own Ransom. Besides, I think, you’ll enjoy unwrapping your gift this year.”

Ransom’s brows shoot up. “Yours, or Oli’s?”

You shrug nonchalantly and don't answer as you begin to wrap another present.

“Sweetheart, come on,” Ransom whines while he makes his way towards you. He pulls up a chair next to you and sits down. One of his hands travels up your leg while the other pushes some hair aside. He dips his head down and nips at your neck. 

“Ransom,” you whisper as you look at your husband, who’s giving you sad puppy eyes. 

“Y/N,” Ransom murmurs before he sweeps his mouth against yours.

Seconds tick by in silence until a squeaky voice states: “Eeewwww.”

You and Ransom jump apart then laugh. Ransom squeezes your leg. “Wait till you’re in your teens Oli. It won't be ‘ew’ then.”

“His teens?”

Ransom rolls his eyes as he places Oli in his lap, “You’ll always be a momma’s boy Oli. So, no kissing until you're in your thirties.”

“Girls are eeewwww.” Oli makes a disgusting face then looks at you and smiles brightly, “But not momma. She pretty. Right daddy?”

Ransom chuckles, “The prettiest girl in the world.”

You laugh, “Thanks Oli. I love you too.” You watch Ransom’s face drop then reach out and stroke his cheek. “And you.”

“Grandmama Linda here yet?” Oli asks as he looks at Ransom. Oli rubs his eyes, still sleepy and worn out from the day.

Ransom shakes his head. “Not yet. We still gotta finish wrapping gifts. Wanna help?”

“But I won'tna be able to see what you gotta me and I wanna know whatta you gotta me.” Oli whines.

Ransom chuckles. “Well, your mom and I are shopping tonight and will wrap it later. Besides, it's a gift, Oli. You aren't supposed to know what it is until Christmas morning.”

“Otay.” he sighs in defeat.

The rest of the afternoon and into the evening, before the doorbell rings at six, the three of you wrap gifts in the kitchen. Not caring if they are wrapped perfectly, or unnecessary amounts of tape is used. Not worrying about Oli trying to write people’s names crookedly or illegible on the gift tags or even writing his own under the ‘from’ section on it along with your’s and Ransom’s name too. 

All you care about is spending time with the two men of your life, enjoying the holiday season with them. Knowing these are part of the traditions you had grown up with and had been sharing with Ransom and now with your son. 

[dibs4ever]

Grieving

Nathan Gordon smiled at the little red headed bundle in his arms. So tiny, and new. Only a month old and so much had already happened to the poor child she had already gone through so much. Her mentally unstable mother running off in the night with her 4 year old brother.

Leaving her father alone with the newborn and a paper signing her rights over. Why keep one but not the other?

Nathan couldn’t understand it

Then again Barbara Keen never was exactly right in the mind

“Dad thanks again for offering to do childcare.” The voice of Jim Gordon spoke

Nathan looked up at his son and shook his head “Think nothing of it. It’ll give me something to do with my days now that I’m retired” he smiled bringing his infant granddaughter to his shoulder

Jim smiled “Well there is absolutely nobody else in the world I’d trust Barbara with. You raised my sister and I on your own which wasn’t exactly common in the 70s and 80s “

Nathan chuckled “Your mother was involved.”

Jim looked at his father over the brim of his glasses. Okay so maybe he did raise the kids on his own for the most part

Little back story on Nathan Peter Gordon

After getting an honorary discharge from the Vietnam war due to an injured leg he did what all the war men did and found a wife to marry and settle down with. It was 1962 he was 25 years old when he married Francis.

She wasn’t like his friends wives, she wasn’t sweet or doting. She didn’t ask him how is day was

She was a bitter women who wouldn’t stand for anyone who didn’t agree with her.

If he was being honest with himself the only reason he married her was because that’s what was expected of him. Women weren’t where his attraction laid. But being a gay man in the 1960s was just asking for a lifetime of criticism. Besides Francis could give him what he desired to be most. A father. Which happened in 1963 when his his daughter Hannah was born and then 3 years later when James was born

He absolutely loved being a father but always feared leaving them with Francis when he left forgot work as an attorney . She was cruel to them.

In 1970 after years of verbal abuse and accusations from Francis he finally confessed to the woman that he was gay.

They promptly divorced, Francis shocked the judge when she requested only to have the children every other weekend. Allowing Nathan to be the primary caregiver.

Something he thanked it was probably the only nice thing she ever did for him. Although he was certain she didn’t want them anyways. It wasn’t easy being a single dad but he wouldn’t trade it for anything, he supported and loved his children. Praising their accomplishments. Hugging them when they were downs and giving advice as they grew up under his wings.

Fast forward it’s 1996 and he’s holding his 30 year old sons newborn daughter.

Nathan takes care of his granddaughter every day and some nights for the next 5 years as his son worked his way up in the GCPD.

Then in 2001 she starts kindergarten and he only has her after school and some nights. It’s a bittersweet moment for both Nathan and Barbara. The two of them were each other’s best friends

Nathan waited outside the school with the other parents and caregivers. The school doors opening

“Grandpa!” The five year old shouted running across the school courtyard and into his arms with a flying leap.

She snuggled into his chest “I missed you.”

He chuckled lightly “So did I, come on little one, let's go get ice cream. It's Friday after all.” He smiled

4 years later he’s on his way to pick her up from school again. He hadn’t been feeling right . He has a coughing fit, then looks down at the kleenex...blood. Something wasn't right

Stuffing the napkin product in his pocket he decided to put on a brave face and go pick the light of his life Barbara Gordon up from school. She’d help him relax till his Doctors appointment next week

Nine year old Barbara opens the back car door and climbs in

“Hi grandpa.” She smiles leaning over the seat to plant a kiss on his cheek “Did you make any snacks at home? I’m starving.”

Nathan smiled, he almost always prepared a small snack for his growing grandauter to have when she returned from school. But today he had felt so ill and afraid due to coughing up blood that he completely.forgotten be had planned to make a her-her favorite snack of homemade nacho.

”I thought we’d get ice cream” be spoke looking back at the girl in the rearview mirror as he pulled out of the driveway

She laughed lightly he freckles doing a little dance when her nose scrunched up. He adored her freckles “Grandpa it’s only Tuesday. We only get ice cream on Friday’s.”

He shrugged “Who says we gotta play by the rules.” He winked

Barbara smiled at him

The following year Nathan Gordon passes away from cancer. He’s surrounded by his daughter Hannah, her husband and their children along with his son and Barbara.

Barbara Gordon sat in the office chair of her fathers office. Since her grandfathers recent passing her dad had yet to make arrangements for a new childcare provider.

Not that she needed a babysitter. She wasn’t a baby. She was 10. Besides the past couple months her grandpa had been so weak she basically took care of herself anyways

Her dad had been gone for a while. Where to? she didn’t know. He never told her anything anyways.

She sighed and continued drawing random doodles on the piece of copy paper she’d been using for the past 30 minutes to occupy her time.

The door opened. Her dad stepping in. But he wasn’t alone . A boy with dark hair, shorter than her but probably around her age stood at his side. This she knew wasn’t common. Very rarely did her father handle children personally like this at work. The boy was looking down sadly.

“Why don’t you take a seat son” her father waved to the pair of seats that sat infront of his desk. The boy nodded then moved and took a seat in one of the chairs

“Barbara this is Richard. He’s 10 like you. Why don’t you keep him company while I make some phone calls in the hall.” Her dad informed

She nodded and watched him walk out, the office door closing behind him

After a moment of Richard not looking up, Barbara moved and switched seats to the available one beside him

“I’m Barbara, how are you Richard?” She asked

He shrugged

“Not much of a talker Huh? It’s okay I’ll talk. I’ve been bored out of my mind all night. My dad thinks I need a babysitter but I don’t. I mean I’ve literally been sitting in this office by myself all night anyways so tell me what the difference would be if I was sitting at my home all night alone?”

Silence

“I’ll tell ya, nothing. I finished all my homework within 30 minutes of being here. My grandpa had me on a strict routine. If dad was ever around when I got home from school the past 5 years he’d know I always finish my school work promptly. What grade are you in Richard?”

“Can you call me Dick?” He spoke softly

Barbara grinned “He speaks....uhh sure I guess. Like I was saying my grandpa. He knew, he always said I should skip a grade. Grandpa knew more about me then my dad.”

Dick looked up at her “I’m in 4th grade. You talk a lot” a small smile played on the boys lips. Although his blue eyes were still filled with saddness

Barbara flashed him a smile back “Sorry my grandpa always said I talked a lot when I was nervous and you being so quiet kinda brought it out.”

Dick nodded “You and your grandpa are close? You’ve already talked about him 3 times in the past 10 minutes”

Barbara inhaled a breath at the mention “We were he Umm. He died last month.”

Dick looked down again “Oh”

She nodded “First time someone close to me has ever died. Have ugh have you ever lost someone. Maybe you could help me, give me some advice.��

Dick was silent “I’ve lost someone. But I don’t have advice.”

Barbara tilted her head “Who did you loose?”

He took a deep breath “My parents.” He squinted his eyes

Her eyes widened she couldn’t imagine loosing her father. Loosing her grandfather was tearing her up inside as it was “When?” She wondered. They were only 10. How young was he when he became an orphan?

“Tonight-they were murdered. I saw it.” He choked

Barbara’s jaw dropped. That explained why he was here “Dick, I’m so sorry!”

Tears began to flow slowly from the boys eyes

Not knowing what to do, the young girl moved her hand grabbing the fellow boys hand and lacing their fingers. To her relief the boy squeezed hers tighter. Letting her know that the small movement was just the right amount of comfort he needed at that moment. Together the two adolescents sat holding hands. Tears slowly streaming down their faces. Finding comfort in their newfound friendship and grieving their recently lost loved ones

[spcncershybrid]

Surprise You’re Older- Spencer Reid Imagine

GIF IS NOT MINE 

SPENCER REID X READER

BAU TEAM X READER (obvi platonic unless you want to date the whole BAU team,, I don’t judge.)

(Summary: Its your birthday! The BAU teams throws a surprise party for you, a well deserving FBI agent who puts the bad guys away!)

(A/N: So um This is in honor of today being my birthday so like I wanted to write a birthday imagine!!🥳🥺 it’s still a reader insert fic because i said so. Also this was originally supposed to go up on my birthday (aug 4th)but I didn’t finish:(()

I wake up staring at my off white ceiling smiling softly. 52 weeks, 365 days have accumulated to this one day. My birthday! I hear my phone ding and turn over seeing the message.

‘We have a case babe. -Spencer, my phone broke.’

No ‘happy birthday y/n!’ I never expect it but usually Penelope messages me first excitedly. Come to think of it no one sent anything.

I sadly stand up slowly and groggily walk to my closet and bathroom slowly getting ready for the day. I step out and eye my clock. Shit I’m late. I run downstairs and jog to my car quickly getting in and drive off to work. I walk into the bullpen hastily setting my things down and jog to the debriefing room as we get started on the case. “Sorry Im late, I hate Virginia.” I say laughing as I took my seat. “Make sure it doesn’t happen again Y/L/N.” Hotch says sternly. “Yes sir.” I nod towards him as I look at my case file. “We my ballistic buddies are headed to New York!” Penelope says. “Wait Pen there’s no pictures?” I ask looking at the file confused. “No it is all written work. The crime scene people sadly couldn’t get photos.” She says. I nod slowly. “I’ll give you guys a moment to read it.” She says sitting down in one of the chairs. Yikes a couple killed while celebrating a birthday. No identification either. “So these victims weren’t ID’s so why are they calling us in?” I ask as I read along the lines. “They believe it can escalate to serial. We will go to see if we can give them a good answer.” Hotch says standing. “Wheels up in 10.” He says walking out of the room. Everyone slowly follows behind leaving Spencer and I. “I didn’t get my daily kiss big guy.” I say nudging him with my elbow. “Sorry.” He says kissing my forehead. “So what are you doing later?” I ask him. “Nothing special I might just relax and read.” He says packing his stuff away. Did he really forget? That’s like majorly impossible. “Really? You don’t have anything planned.” I say hinting towards the idea of today being my birthday. “Why would I? There’s nothing special about today. Speaking of today see you on the jet.” He says closing his bag and walks out of the room. “He really forgot.” I whisper to myself sadly as I pack my things. I head to my desk and grab my go bag.

I step onto the jet and head towards my usual seat. “Garcia will be joining us for today.” Hotch says as he sits in his usual spot. “Hey you okay?” Emily whispers as she sits next to me. “Yeah Em. Let’s Just say I’m having a rough day.” I say staring out the window. She gets up and sits next to JJ. Thanks Emily. For a bunch of profilers they suck at seeing others issues. “When we land Reid and JJ, you guys can head to the M.E.” Hotch say gesturing to them. “Morgan, you and Y/L/N can head to the crime scene. The rest of us can head to the station and set up.” Hotch finishes as he reads his case file.We land in New York safely. Morgan and I head to one of the parked vans and head to the crime scene. “Why is it empty? Derek are you sure we’re in the right place? There should be tape surrounding here.” I say pointing out the obvious flaws in this crime scene area. “Yep this is where Hotch and the NYPD said to go.” He says placing his hand on his head. “Wait Y/L/N, what is that?” He asks pointing to something. I slowly walk over to it. A letter? “It’s a letter Morgan. Should I pick it up or is that obstruction of evidence?” I ask as I eye the paper. “Pick it up.” He says walking over to me. I pick up the paper and examine it. “Red Lobster?” I questioningly say as I read the paper. “That’s a food place. Why would we need to go there?” Derek asks confused. “Not sure but let’s go I guess.” I say heading towards the van.

We drive speed over to the nearest Red Lobster and head inside. Derek and I pull out our credentials and show it to one of the workers. “Hi we are investigating a case and a something was laid out informing us to go here. Has there been anything suspicious that has been brought here?” I ask a tall brunette girl. “Yes here.” She says handing me another letter. “Derek if stuff was this simple we’ll be out of jobs.” I say as he leads me outside. “Do you understand this unsubs M.O? I’m so confused.” I sigh asking Derek as I hand him the second note. “We should head to the station and see what they have so far, Reid and them are probably way ahead.” He says as he drives off. I nod in agreement and stare out the window. This is one hell of a birthday so far. Catching an unsub who leaves notes and no case pictures.

__________________

“Morgan are you sure we’re headed the right way?” I ask turning towards him. “Positive but this GPS isn’t working well with me.” He says gripping the steering wheel. I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I fish it out and answer. “Hello?” I ask. “Hey it’s me.” The familiar voice of my boyfriend echos through the phone. “We’re having zero luck Spence it would be a damn miracle if this case gets solved.” I sighed sadly. “We’re slowly figuring it out over here. Are you and Morgan near?” He asks. “I think Spence. I honestly have no clue cause I’ve seen the same diner about five times.” I say aiming my sentence towards Derek. “How about you drive?” Derek says pointing towards the wheel. “Just make it safely.” Spencer says laughing softly. “I will Morgan drives like a grandpa.” I say laughing as I hung up the phone. “Okay youngster how about you drive next time.” Derek says laughing. “You got jokes geezer.” I say smiling widely as I turn towards him. Our laugh fest is cut off by Dereks phone ringing. “Yep Hotch.” He says answering the phone. “Okay we‘ll be right there.” He says nodding to no one in particular. Hotch says something inaudible and Derek hangs up the phone. “Where are we off too?” I ask confused. “The station. The address JJ gave me before was wrong. But before we go there we have to stop at another place.” He says driving quicker. “Wake me up when we’re there.” I ask leaning into my seat. “Of course.” Derek says as he turns the corner.

__________________

I feel myself being slightly shaken awake. “We’re here.” I hear Derek say as I open my eyes. I look out the window taking in my surroundings. ��Derek this isn’t a station, it's a house.” I say looking at the house in front of me. “I know hard heads get up.” Derek says opening my side door. “Close your eyes.” He says as I step out. “If your going to murder me Morgan just know I’m a respected FBI agent.” I say laughing as I shut my eyes. He scoffs in response and grabs my arm guiding me to what I think hope is the house. I hear a door unlock and a soft tug on my arm. I hear a light flicker on. “Surprise!” I hear a chorus of voices yell towards me. I open my eyes quickly seeing my team standing with party hats and party poppers. I smile widely as I look around at them. “Happy birthday baby.” Spencer says smiling as he walks up to me wrapping his arms around me. The group takes turns giving me a hug and slowly disperses. “Oh my the cake! Where’s the cake!” Penelope exclaims running into the room. “Oh crap we forgot the cake.” JJ says placing her hand over her mouth in shock. I laugh softly. “It’s fine guys!” I say happily looking at them and their disappointed faces. “Fine but there are definitely presents!” Penelope says pointing towards me as she backs into the kitchen. They all huddled together on the couch, me in the middle, and slowly handed me gifts.

__________________

“Woah Rossi this is sick!” I say smiling as I open his gift. “The kid was telling me about how you wanted to start cooking. What better way to set you up than to not only combine the BAU’s two greatest things, my books and my face.” Rossi says smiling as the team softly groans. “This is from Jack and I combined.” Hotch says handing me a box. I rip the wrapping paper off revealing a framed picture and drawing. “This is supposed to be Spencer, you, and Jack. It was that time you guys babysat him. The drawing is a Jack original piece.” Hotch says smiling. “Hotch I love it. Tell Jack I said thank you.” I say smiling. “Me next!” Penelope says excitedly springing from the couch, handing me a bag. “Worlds baddest BAU babe?” I question as I read the shirt Penelope got me. “I ordered something different but it’s arriving late. Expect a huge box.” She says apologetically. “Pen if it’s bigger than my front door I will hit you with it.” I say laughing as I remembered last years gift of a giant framed painting she got me. “Then I should probably cancel it.” She says sheepishly. “My turn~” JJ says in a sing-song type voice. “This is an exclusive piece made from the bare hands of my family and the jewelry store.” JJ says handing me a bag. I quirk my eyebrow at her words smiling softly. I pull out the contents revealing a drawn painting signed by Henry and Michael, and a small bracelet. “JJ this is beautiful.” I gasp taking out the bracelet. “You seemed sad when your other one broke on the field so Will and I made a trip.” She says smiling at me. I look at her thankfully appreciating the bracelet. “Time to upstage you all.” Derek says clapping his hands together. “That’s never good.” Rossi says under his breath. “I got you and pretty boy over there a joint thing.” He says standing up smiling over to Spencer. I look over to Spencer confused as he blushes profusely. “I got you two a special Derek Morgan exclusive trip to one of my friends resort places.” Derek says spinning around. “Holy crap Morgan seriously.” I say glancing towards Spencer who has his head in his hands, still blushing. “Don’t worry it isn’t the place where Elle got arrested.” He says pointing to us, raising his eyebrow. “Okay okay my turn.” Emily says softly pushing Derek into the couch as she hands me a box with holes. I open the box cautiously smiling wide as a small black kitten peeks its head out. “I saw your face when you took care of Sergio and I know how hard it was for you two to part. So I present to you Sergio 2.0.” Emily says laughing at my shocked expression. I gush at the kitten as it meows at me.

__________________

I smile widely at the kitten's cuteness for a moment. “Okay my turn before the kitten steals you away.” Spencer says standing up. The team gets up from the couch and exits the room. “I kind of wanted to do this on the resort trip but now seems worth it.” Spencer says digging into his pocket pulling out a velvet box. “This isn’t a marriage proposal but it’s something similar. It’s a promise ring, I want to make you the promise that one day when the timing is right I will replace it with an engagement ring properly.” He says getting on one knee opening the box. “Spence, it's beautiful.” I gasp as he stands from the floor. “I promise to you Spencer Reid that one day with different rings we would be saying our vows in the same positions.” I say smiling as he slides the ring on my finger. “Wait, this looks familiar.” I say examining the ring. “You left your computer tabs open so I took a shot in the dark sorry.Spencer says shyly, scratching his head. I smile at him softly and hug his waist. “I love you.” I say into his shirt. “I love you too ever since our conversation about Alice in Wonderland.” He says kissing the top of my head. “That was so long ago!” I exclaimed, laughing as I slapped his arm softly. He smiles at me widely. The team enters back into the room taking a seat at different spots in the living room. “Wait, the whole case was fake right there isn’t a psycho in New York?” I say standing up from the couch abruptly. “I hope not we’re supposed to be celebrating a birthday.” Rossi says taking a sip of wine. Suddenly Hotch’s phone rings and he exits the room. “If it’s a case I so hate the BAU right now.” Emily says sighing. “Nope it was a surprise pizza.” Hotch says reentering the room. “Yay!” Penelope says standing up grabbing a slice. Hotch laughs at Penelope and hands out slices. “Did you know-“ Spencer starts but I cut him off with a kiss. “Not now.” I say smiling against his lips. The team laughs and we all spend the night eating and drinking the celebration away.

[justjessame]

If Only Someone Looked At Me Like They Look At Guns 2

My day went normally after the weird brothers left. At noon, the tide slowed and I put the “Be Back In-” sign in the door window and grabbed the pastry box, three cups of coffee I put in a carrier (just in case they were loitering in Doc’s), and my bag. I locked the front door and headed across the street with my burden.

When I got to the door, I was juggling the coffee carrier on top of the pastry box while trying to open the door. Someone inside must have heard me struggling, because the door swung open. I looked up into Murphy’s blue eyes.

“Thot we ‘eard someone oyt ‘ere strugglin’.” He held the door open as I moved past him with my burden. “Dat coffee fer us?”

Rolling my eyes, I laughed. “Since I haven’t developed a taste for the rotgut during the day-” I answered, as he took the carrier from my hands. “It’s for you, Doc, and-”

“Me?” Connor was leaning against the bar smoking. He smiled and pulled the pastry box from my hands. “What’s dis?”

I smiled, but didn’t answer, looking past him for Doc. My forehead wrinkled in worry. “Pastries, Doc loves the scones, so I brought a boxful.” I moved past him, heading toward the hallway that held the office, stockroom, and bathrooms. I’d spent almost as much time in the bar as I did in my own store, so I was familiar with the entirety. “DOC?! Are you back here?”

His voice called from the storeroom and I opened the door. His grin was bright as he saw me come toward him. Dropping his clipboard, he held open his arms for our usual hug. Hugging him felt exactly like hugging my grandpa and I loved this old man with the same protectiveness.

“Ah, lass.” His soft Irish accent whispered over the top of my head. “Y-y-er a-fuck ass-site for sore eyes.”

I pulled back and beamed at him. “Sorry it’s been over a week, Doc.” I brushed my loose hair from my face. “Been terribly busy.”

He smiled down at me, still holding my arms in his hands.

“So yer like ol’ men, den?” Came a snickering voice from the doorway. I looked toward the voice and glared at the two men acting as our audience.

“I only have time for Doc,” my glare turned to a smirk. “He’s had my heart for two years now.” Doc patted my cheek affectionately.

“Aye, she’s a good-” He stammered to find the word. “Fuck off, you two!” He finished, making the three of us chuckle.

“Well said,” I squeezed his hand. “Can you take a break? I brought your favorite.”

He nodded and took up his cane. Together we walked back to the bar, the twins having rushed ahead. “How are yer really, lass?” Doc asked, as we made our slower progress back to the main room. “Yer Da still asking yer to come home?”

I nodded, but didn’t want to talk about it. He understood, seeing as he’d been my only source of comfort. Sure, I’d met some people through the store, but at the end of the day, I craved comfort. And so, Doc it was. He’d adopted me and I adopted him. It worked.

“Whar are da two of ye?” Murphy called, stepping back to the entryway of the hallway. I glanced up and smiled at him, letting him see me walking at Doc’s pace. He smiled back and nodded, turning back to the bar.

Doc and I joined them, in our own time. We stood for a moment watching the two of them, drinking coffee and hip checking one another. “Do they ever act their age?” I whispered to Doc, eyeing them acting like children. He chuckled and shook his head.

“Wha?” Connor said, looking at Doc and I staring. “Can we ‘av da sweets now?” His eyes were sparkling and I felt like I really was looking at a child.

“Doc gets first pick, boys.” I said, taking the box off the bar and offering it to the elderly man. I watched as Doc’s eyes lit up as brightly as the boys’ had. “Let’s grab a booth?” I carried the box to one of the small booths, and tossed orders over my shoulder. “Boys, grab some small plates from behind the bar? And bring Doc’s coffee over, would you?”

We sat and I talked about the week since we’d seen each other last. I got up to make myself a cup of tea and came back to find the three in a whispered conversation.

“Don’t mind me,” I said, taking a sip of my tea. “I should be heading back to my shop in a bit anyway.”

Doc looked up at me with concern and I felt a twist in my belly. “Don leave jus yet, my girl. Fuck-Ass. Dees two ‘av some explainin’ ter do.” He pointed at the twins seating across from him.

I raised an eyebrow and pulled a chair from another table. Sitting on it at the head of the booth, I waited. Weary, but curious.

“Didn’t want ter tell yer dis way,” Murphy muttered into his cup, but he sat up when someone apparently kicked him under the table.

Connor looked up at me without the twinkle lighting his eyes. “But yer shud know who we are.”

I smiled and rolled my eyes. “You’re Connor,” I said, pointing at him. “And you’re Murphy. You already introduced yourselves to me.” I knew this wasn’t what they meant, but a feeling of NOT wanting to know the truth. It was going to be bad.

They nodded, but kept talking, each completing the other’s sentence.

“Dat’s right,” Murphy answered.

“But der’s more ter it.” Connor finished. “Our surname is-”

“MacManus,” Murphy sighed. Seeing my face pale, he went on, “see yer ‘eard of it.”

“Mean yer no ‘arm.” Connor rushed to assure you. “Doc insisted-”

Murphy came in to assist, “we tell yer. Said yer shud ‘av a choice.”

“In who yer associate wit.” Connor said, pulling his eyes from yours to stare at the coffee in his hand.

I took a moment to collect myself, shocked when I realized I was still holding my cup and it wasn’t shaking. If I were being honest with myself, the hand tattoos were a clue that hadn’t left me all day. I’d remembered that from the news, even if it had been shoved to the far reaches of my mind. I wondered why they had come back, why they were in Doc’s, why they chose my coffee instead of his?

“Darlin’,” Doc called my attention to him. “Yer OK?”

I nodded, and took another sip of my tea. It felt warm, but offered no comfort. What do I do with this knowledge? Tell the police? I shrunk from that option, though it was sound. They didn’t hurt innocent people. They wouldn’t.

“The priest?” I whispered. If they answered appropriately, if they convinced me, maybe I’d have an answer.

“No.” Connor said, his voice raised above the quiet, soothing tone he’d been using. “We don’ kill priests.”

Murphy looked sick at the mere thought. “Or weemen or laddies.” No women or children, like I’d thought.

I nodded, wondering what my face looked like. Since the three of them were looking at me like I was going to blow a gasket, I thought it was probably not good. I cleared my throat after taking another drink of tea. “OK.” I said, trying to smile. “Alright. That goes along with what I remember from your first go around.” I sat the cup on the table. “Why would you come back here?”

“Obviously dey wanted ter draw us ‘ere.” Murphy answered, lighting up a much needed cigarette by the look on his face.

Connor agreed, lighting his own. “Dey killed de good fader ter get us ‘ere.” He grimaced at what he clearly found distasteful.

“You misunderstand me,” I said, sighing and tossing my head back. The stress and tension was building again. “Why did you come back here?” I gestured around the bar. “I may not be a criminal justice graduate, but this doesn’t seem smart to me.”

Finally understanding they glanced at each other, silently communicating. “‘Tis ‘ome.” They answered together.

I nodded, trying to understand why the comfort of familiarity was worth more than their freedom. “And why did you pick my shop to buy coffee? Convenience?” I asked, thinking that I’d rather it just be an accident or something simple.

Again they looked at one another, trying to decide. “Saw yer lock up yesterday.” Murphy admitted.

“Doc did say yer coffee was good tho.” Connor said, giving my surrogate grandpa a pass.

I took the news in. I’d locked up very late the night before. Far past the time I usually left due to a shipment I had to put away. I hadn’t even felt them watching me. Dear God, was Dad right? Was I so naive that I could be harmed because I’d grown comfortable and complacent? I was staring hard at my cup, wondering what to do with all this information.

I knew I wouldn’t alert the authorities. Why? They were doing a weird kind of service for the world. One I wouldn’t do, but I wasn’t a judge or jury. The rest of the information was to be decided, I supposed. Sighing, I stood up.

“I have to get back to my store.” The boys and Doc stood as well. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

I walked silently to the door and was happy that none of them followed me. I needed time to process everything. I didn’t need to be coddled or followed. Although, I told myself as I crossed the street and reopened my store, I would definitely be leaving at the normal time tonight.

[neonbluewaves]

Innocent eyes

A little something I wrote while I draw and write everything about the Prieto family, just kinda teasing, u kno? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 

So have a bit of Neon’s grandma, Rocio

--

Rocio is tired. Well, that’s an understatement. She’s completely exhausted, how can a little child have so much energy? Watching over her nephew was very easy. Jacob liked to read, he liked to follow his grandpa around, and Gonzalo didn’t mind because it meant the little boy wouldn’t set the kitchen on fire, or would touch all the magic artefacts they had around their house. He was easy to manage, but Neon? She was a riot, a ball of energy, running around, up and down the mansion, picking everything in her reach and asking with wonder in her eyes “What’s this? What’s it do? Can I have it?” already turning it in her hands, looking at it from every angle. That had to come from her dad, Luisa was never like this, nor Carmen or Narcisso. And she was getting old to add to it.

She hears a loud THUD from upstairs and sighs “oh no”. She walks upstairs resigned with the fact that one child will probably destroy her house when many powerful wizards couldn’t even find it.

-Yaya, yaya, what’s here? Open, open!- says the small kid on her toes grabbing the door knob. Rocio stands there, looking at the door, she hasn’t gone in it in years, since the incident happened...

She looks down to Neon, maybe to tell her she can’t go in, maybe to look for some confidence and finally face the room, she doesn’t really know, but it seems it’s the last, because she opens it and the smell of old parchment and a faint scent of her father’s cologne hits her. Hard.

Neon rushes in, of course she does, looking around. It’s quite a big studio, Rocio had almost forgotten everything in it. The big banner, the giant shelves full of books in different languages, the glass cabinets with miniature ships, maps, trinkets and other objects she never really knew what where used for. There’s a big window letting light in, the fireplace is dark, cold, unused. The desk sitting on one side with matching leather chairs has dust in it. Rocio has used a different room as her own studio, leaving this one untouched for so long. There’s still blood on the floor. Nobody bothered cleaning it. It was barely noticable on the dark carpet, but she knew exactly where it was, a darker tone than the rest of it. The whole room was made of dark browns and reds. The family color.

-Yaya look! Is this you?

Neon’s holding a framed picture. And she’s pointing at her, guess she hasn’t changed much through all these years.

-Yes, that’s me

-And who are all these people?- she turns the frame back towards her, looking at them all, again that innocent wonder in her eyes that reminds her of him.

-Those are my siblings, all younger than me- Neon looks up surprised, her mouth forming a perfect O, the child always so expressive

-You had a lot of brothers and sisters!

-I did

-Where are they? Why haven’t I met them?

.

.

40 years before

 -Ay, where is she? Leoba, come out for Morgana’s sake! It’s a family picture, just choose any mantilla, they’re all nice! And where is Santi? Geez, he needs a haircut, there’s no way he’s getting in that picture with that hair!

-Relax Isa, you’re gonna have a stroke or something

-Rocio, we won’t get another picture in years, father wants it in his studio, where he meets with other pure blood families! And they’ll see five nice looking young wizards and a... a...

-Okay, breathe, I’ll go find him and chop his hair so he looks “presentable”

And with that, Rocio takes a hat from the wall hanger and heads out, the last thing she hears is her sister yelling at her “A hat? Really? You’ll mess your hair!”

The sun is bright and the almond trees of their land look a lovely pale pink, all on full bloom. Santi couldn’t have gone too far, he wouldn’t want to upset father by being late to the picture. Such a daddy’s boy. When he was little he could do no wrong, the fault was always for any of the older siblings, no matter what. But she couldn’t blame him, she also doted on him too much, she couldn’t help it, that innocence, that thirst to know and understand everything around him, the way his grey eyes shone whenever he saw something new, she was smitten, anything he asked of her he’d get. Her new horse? All his. The sword she just purchased but he had wanted too? It was in his room, on the wall kept like a treasure. She had just picked some figs but he was hungry? He could eat them all. She loved him so much she was sure she’d find a way to bring down the moon for him if he asked.

After fifteen minutes of walking between trees she found him along with their brother Marcelo both snoring under a fig tree

-Oi! Don’t fall asleep under the fig tree, you’ll both catch a cold! Didn’t you learn that when we were little?

They both grumbled as they sat up, their clothes a mess with sand

-It’s fine, we’ll drink pepperup potion- said Marcelo, running his hands trough his hair as if to comb it

-Well, what will you drink when Isabel rips your arms off for being late for the picture? I’m pretty sure the guy must have just arrived, and she wanted Santi to get a haircut

-Why? I’m letting it grow so you can all enjoy my wonderful light brown hair!

-She’ll chop it off- said Marcelo stretching

-C’mon, before a vein in her head explodes- she takes out her wand and with a flick of it all the dirt is gone from their clothes.- we don’t want to deal with that.

 -Finally!- exclaims Isabel as she hurries to them, Leoba and Teodoro behind her.- oh, Rocio, you didn’t cut his hair! He looks like those muggle boys that work picking fruit.

-Excuse you, I look way more handsome than any of them

-You know what?- she says, voice resigned - whatever, there’s no time, this good man has to go take more pictures, so just brush it a little out of your face, yes, like this, okay, Sir! Sir, we’re ready!

- Alright, so, tall ones behind, the shorter ones in front.- instructs the camera man- in front of the family banner, correct?

-Yes, okay let’s... oh Rocio, really? The hat around the neck? Fine... And you Leoba, really? You can’t get your hair out of your face even for a picture

-Sis.- Teodoro puts a hand on her shoulder, comforting- relax, it’ll look good, this all just adds to show our personalities

-Oh please, we’re a noble and ancient pure blood house! We don’t need personality

-Said the one with the worst temperament...

-I heard you!- she turns to Leoba, eye twitching

-Please, take the picture - hurries Rocio, before another fight starts

-Okay, everyone look to the camera, alright, it’ll only take a few seconds... yes.... okay....- a bright flash blinds them all- aaaand done!

-Yeah, done with seeing, it was nice knowing what pretty girls look like before the world went white...- Says Santi, rubbing his eyes as hard as he can

-Thank you sir, we’ll await for the picture!

The man gathers everything he brought and leaves hurriedly to his next apointment, and right as the door closes Isabel turns to Leoba

-SO I HAVE A BAD TEMPERAMENT HUH?

-OH MY GOD, HOW CAN YOU ASK WHEN YOU’RE YELLING? YOU’RE PROVING A POINT

-I’LL PROVE YOU A POINT WHEN I TURN YOUR ARMS TO TREE BRANCHES

-OH YEAH, WELL I’LL LET THE DOGS IN TO PEE ON YOUR BED

And as another fight breaks Teodoro decides to apparate anywhere but near the house, Marcelo tries his best to get them to calm down and not take out their wands, and Rocio, with a weary sigh, tells Santi to leave before Isabel decides to actually chop his hair. With a smile he runs away as she goes help Marcelo deal with them. It’s her job as the oldest sister, she thinks, to take care of them all. She wonders who will take care of her once their father isn’t there.

.

.

.

.

She looks at the body in front of her. Laying on the ground face down, the bright flash of green having shocked and momentarily blinded her. She quickly falls to her knees, turning him face up.

Santi’s eyes are wide open, the innocence and wonder gone from them, now just two dull grey circles. His nose broken and bleeding from the fall he’s taken, and suddenly drops of water fall on his face, gently and slowly mixing with the blood. Rocio’s tears.

-santi, santi! SANTIAGO! PLEASE OH GOD PLEASE NO, DON’T, DON’T LEAVE LIKE THIS!

Watching everything is Isabel, as stunned as Rocio, she hadn’t known she was holding her breath until Rocio’s screeches had broken the silence, and she let’s out a shaky breath. Her wand gripped tightly in her trembling hand.

Rocio looks up and Isabel swears she’s never seen such rage in anyone’s eyes, ever, let alone her sister’s, and directed towards her. The red irises shine with tears of grief and anger, her face slowly turning that same color,she expects yelling, but all she hears is a quiet raspy voice

-What. Have. You. Done?

They both know what she’s done. She’s killed their little brother. She’s killed father’s favourite child, Rocio’s favourite sibling. She’s killed her own favourite sibling. She feels a sting in her eyes, realization sinking in. She didn’t mean to kill him. She wanted to kill Rocio. But he had jumped in the middle. He took the curse for the sister, who was willing to give him everything, because every time Rocio would hand him something of hers, Santi felt such pure love, he couldn’t bear to lose that. So he jumped and took the curse. And now, unknowingly, both him and Isabel had taken away the most precious thing in Rocio’s life. The innocent grey eyes of her little brother.

-I...I didn’t mean to- Isabel starts, but Rocio’s wand is up

-you didn’t mean to.... but you did. Run. Run away so I never have to see you again. RUN OR TWO PRIETOS WILL DIE TODAY!

There’s no time for Isabel to go, because the fireplace lights up in a green light, a different one, and their father is there.

He sees the scene. His oldest daughter cradling a body. His son’s body. She’s holding him tightly against her chest, his face hidden, but he knows it’s him because he’d recognize that shade of brown anywhere. He follows the direction of Rocio’s wand, pointed at Isabel. And he knows. He clenches his jaw.

-F-father...- whimpers Isabel, and she sees something in his eyes that finally makes her move. And she runs, she runs out of the house. Their father takes out his wand from his robes and a book. He leaves it on the ground, next to Rocio.

And just like that he marches after his daughter. Rocio doesn’t know what’s going to happen next, at the moment all she can do is hold Santiago in his arms and cradle him tightly, whispering against his hair that she loves him and apologizing a thousand times, tears still falling. Left alone in their father’s studio, with the smell of parchment paper and a trace of his cologne.

.

.

.

-Yaya? Yaya why are you crying?

Rocio comes out of her trance, she’s sitting in one of the chairs in front of the big desk, tears falling. In front of her Neon, who looks like she’s about to cry too

-I’m sorry- she says, the poor kid doesn’t know why her grandma is crying, so she thinks it must be her fault.

-Oh no, Macarena, it’s nothing you did, this room is very dusty and it’s making my eyes watery.

Of course she doesn’t know what grief is, she’s a little girl walking around a world full of wonders, all she knows is innocence and curiosity, like Santi did once. And as Rocio picks her up to hold her close like she did with her little brother, she prays that she never has to know what it’s like to mourn those we love most.

[ayyoitsalex]

Chapter 7 - Pour Me One

Every now and again my friends and siblings get together, not for any particular occasion but to let it all hang out. More specifically we just trade stories that make us laugh and moreso because we're usually drunk when we're telling them. So when we all have time to get together the drinks come out and guts will be spilled. We just like to spill tea on people we know. It's a bad habit, but I can't help to indulge on a bit of shit talking every now and again. =Saturday- Sam and I dropped the kids off with my parents, Natalie and Wes dropped their kids off with his parents, and Nathan and Sophia paid Elizabeth to babysit Daisy. We gathered at our house, and I ran down the checklist of everyone's preferred drink of choice. That meant four bottles of wine and a case of beer. I poured Sam and I a glass of wine. The first of our guests arrived, Nathan and Sophia. "So what type of stuff we sippin on this time?" Sophia smiled rubbing her hands together eager. "Well we got this wine down at a tasting a few weeks ago and I think you might enjoy." I offered her a sip from my glass. Her eyes widened. "Babe pour me one of these!" Nathan nodded as he made his way to the kitchen. He returned with the wine glass in one hand and beer in another. They clinked their drinks and began the night. Sam being an over achiever that she is walked into the room with a full spread of snacks, setting them on the coffee table. This followed by another arrival of both Natalie and Alijah with their significant others. Unlike Nathan and Sophia, these guests brought food to share with the group. Though we don't hold it against them since they were nice enough to have us at their house last weekend for dinner. We all sat around getting settled in at first getting in our first few drinks and bits of food until things began to settle down in the couches. "So who's got a good one?" Nathan laughed sitting back with his arm around Sophia. I could tell Nathan's lips were a little looser than normal from the two empty beers in front of him. Sam and I both looked at each other. "Well the other day..Charly ate a rock." I cringed just saying it. Natalie clearly couldn't take what I just said almost spraying all of us with a wine mist. "WAIT WHAT. LIKE A ROCK ROCK." Natalie was dying laughing at the thought. I nodded my head slightly ashamed. "Yeah so she was running around the backyard while I was playing with the boys and I guess when I wasn't looking put one in her mouth." "Then I looked over at Selena and was like I think there's something in her mouth. When we finally got to her we looked around in her mouth hoping it was just like on the side of her cheek. But nope.." Sam sighed finishing the story. "We asked her and she nodded." "did you y'know ever find it?" Sophia asked slowly. We both nodded and a collective sigh of relief was shared from all of them. "...YOUR KID ATE A ROCK" Natalie continued to laugh, clutching her sides. "Someone else go." I rolled my eyes at Natalie continuing to laugh hysterically. We stopped for a brief moment to refill drinks and indulge on pizza and wings that Sam ordered. It's not a pretty sight to be eating and have a sudden laugh come on and projectile food. My walls have enough markings on them already from Charly attempting to draw on them. We're trying to minimize the mess as best we can. Normally we're not eating as much junk  as we are right now, but like I've been taught it's nice to TREAT YO SELF. Besides I'm sure my parents are loading up the kids with all types of stuff we normally don't do. "Who's next?" Sam asked falling back into her seat with me. "Well..Daisy walked in on us last week.." Nathan said slowly. "OH MY GOD THAT POOR GIRL." Sam gasped. "NO WONDER SHE DIDNT PLAY GREAT IN THAT TOURNAMENT!" "Shut up! She didn't see anything!" Nathan said. "Why is it that small now?" Alijah laughed. "Sophia! What did you do to this man!?" "OH FUCK OFF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEANT." Nathan folded his arms. "I don't know why we do this!" "Cause it's supposed to be fun." Natalie shrugged her shoulders. "Alright fine then you tell a story!" Nathan said tossing a throw pillow at Natalie. Ah it's like the old days. Sam and I were just glad to be out of the way until it was our turn to share again. Natalie was reluctant to share since in her mind she doesn't do anything embarrassing and she's perfect. So we turned to Wes. "Oh I got one." Wes smirked looking at Natalie. Her eyes grew big unsure of what Wes was about to divulge. We knew something was up. We leaned in anticipating something good. "So as we all know Natalie's very fond of her celebrity crushes and I pay them no mind. Though lately she's very into a particular app and rediscovered her love of anime." "NO NO STOP!" Natalie covered her face with the pillow. "YOU'RE ON TIKTOK!" Sophia exclaimed. Natalie's face began turning red. We got her. "Oh my god do you have any saved!?" "OH TRUST. She sends me all this nonsense before posting."  We all huddled around Wes' phone and text exchange he had with Natalie as he played a video with a character I had never seen before. "YOU'RE THIRSTY FOR THIS BIRD MAN!?" We all burst out laughing falling back into our chairs. "HE IS SO FINE YOU DONT UNDERSTAND!" "Clearly!" We all said together. "Oh lord you're ridiculous Natalie Brianna." I laughed clutching Sam. "Whatever you're all just haters!" Natalie huffed. "Can't belive you sold me out like that!" She smacked Wes in the leg. "You're supposed to be on my team!" "Well it's supposed to be fun remember?" Nathan said mockingly. Natalie was fuming. She sipped hard on her glass of wine before finally settling back down. "You fucking weeb." I could feel the heat of Natalie's glare from my comment, but I stood by it. "It's fine I accept you Nattie. I did say for better or worse when we got married." Wes put his arm around Natalie comforting her a little. Natalie back handed Wes at the latter comment, then she stuck her tongue out at us. The redness in her cheeks slowly going away.

We took a moment to catch our breath and massage our cheeks from all the laughing. It's only every so often that we get like this and it's some of my favorite times. Don't get me wrong I love having my kiddos around, but sometimes it's fun for all of us to just be us again. Everyone decided to leave around eight, and my parents dropped the kids off a little bit after everyone had left. -Knock knock- The boys stood at the door with my parents, my mom holding a sleeping Charly.   "Thanks again for watching the kids. Were they easy tonight?" I asked slowly taking Charly from my mom. "No they were fine, but someone clearly had fun tonight." Mom smiled looking around the living room at the empty pizza boxes and bottles of alcohol. I tried to come up with a quick response. "Good to blow off steam every once in a while." "Yeah definitely well needed. Did you and dad need a lot of these kinds of nights?" They both nodded. "What! No way where'd we go cause I  dont remember being at anyones houses like I do with the kids." "No it was right after you were born, you were such a pain in the ass mom and I needed drinks all the time." Dad laughed.  "When Natalie and Nathan were born we had to stop cause we'd be alcoholics if we didn't." I gave them both a deadpan look. "Ha ha." "Alright boys say thank you to grandma and grandpa." Sam said leading them up the stairs. "Thank youuu!" They shouted racing one another. "Good night Sel." They hugged me both as I continued to cradle Charly. I locked the door behind them and got the kids to bed.

[fallen029]

Parenthood: Gift Exchange

"Alright," Mirajane began after she'd placed the huge plate stacked high with pancakes down on the table beside the other covered in bacon and sausage. As her boys, husband, and the Master all dug in, she only moved to snag her one-year-old daughter from her highchair, bouncing the girl in her arms while saying, "Everyone knows the plan for the day? Boys? You all made your lists last night, right?"

There was a murmur of agreement, but it was a distracted one as Nate, the oldest boy, was totally taking too much bacon again while Pike, his younger brother, only began to whine loudly about it and Mace, their always trapped in the middle cousin, decided that meant he could have much of the scrambled eggs as he wanted.

"Let your gramps," Laxus was growling at them then, "get his food first, you brats."

"It's fine, you grump," Makarov told the man with a frown. "They're growing boys. And Nate, you're training hard already, aren't you? On your magic? You need all that bacon." When Nathan beamed at this and Pike looked wounded, the elderly man was sure to add, "But if you don't give your brother a few pieces, I'll bend you over my knee."

"Share, boys," Mirajane sighed as she carried her baby with her over to the counter to get the drinks for everyone. "And you didn't answer me. Everyone wrote their list? And knows what they're getting? I don't mind taking some time at the market today, but I'm only going to do it today. So you have to make sure you get something for everyone you want. You understand?"

"I'mma get somethin' for everyone, Mommy," Pike told her as, finally, Laxus moved to divvy up the food, as he should have been doing from the beginning. "You and Daddy and Gramps and Nate and Mace and Aunt Lisanna and Uncle Elf and Freed and-"

"I'm not getting anything for Laxus!" Nathan yelled this, fueled a bit by his denial of all the bacon, but having been holding that in since the last night, when his father made him sit in timeout over something super dumb (if neglecting your chores was something dumb; it was).

"Good!" Laxus was not in the mood, it seemed. "I don't want anything from you."

"I'mma get you somethin', Uncle Laxus," Mace offered helpfully. "But, I was lookin' at how much everything'll cost so you're probably just gonna get a keychain. Or do you want a mug? Some candy?"

"Boys, don't spoil it by telling people what you're getting them," Mira chided over her shoulder as Ivory, her little one, mewled in her ear. "That takes the fun out of it."

But Laxus, who definitely did not want another fucking keychain or mug was thankful for the heads up.

"Candy," he grunted to his nephew, "will do."

"Mark me off your lists, boys," Makarov told them as Mirajane brought him his coffee first, drawing the ire of his grandson. As his great ones looked on with frowns, he assured them, "Getting to send another festival with you is gift enough."

"Aw, Master," Mirajane giggled while Laxus only rolled his eyes. Still, she was sure to add, "You can still make your grandpa cards, boys."

It was Winter Festival and that meant that Laxus had given each of them a stipend for the month, to buy gifts for one another. Money didn't feel as tight however, this month, after a successful S-Class job, and Laxus gave them a bit extra, telling them to buy for anyone else they wanted as well.

This meant big decisions had to be made.

Between the three of them, the two older boys knew how to game the system just a bit. Buying one another gifts that they would want to play with as well. Poor Pike though, he wasn't as savvy, and actually always got his big bubba and older cousin toys they'd like, not himself. He was a bit of a chump, thankfully, in the eyes of Nate and Mace.

Market day was usually one that all the boys avoided, because it meant carrying heavy groceries all the way home and being told no a bunch, by Mirajane or Laxus, and that sucked. But one days like this one, where expectations and anticipation melted into one, the hype was high.

"Here, dragon." He got his coffee with a kiss to the cheek, but when he tried to snag his baby as well, Mirajane only held tight to her. Making a face at him, she added, "She's mine."

She was not.

But he was going to give in for the moment because his stomach was growling.

"Ivory and I will probably take a nap, I think, while you all are out at the market," Makarov sighed to himself as Mirajane then took to getting the boys their juice. "Unless this coffee manages to wake me up."

"Egg probably wants to come to the market too," Nate argued, just a bit (no one was risking getting into too much trouble, that morning). "I bet if she could, she'd buy me a gift. And only me. And you too, Mommy."

Laxus seethed silently.

"Don't call your sister an egg," Mira chided absently as, finally, it was time for her to make herself a plate and Ivory one as well, from the leftovers.

"I'm gonna get Ivy a new bow," Pike announced, mangling his little sister's name with the same abandon as always. "It's okay to say, I think, Mommy, 'cause she doesn't know what I'm saying."

"Ivory doesn't want a bow," Nate retorted. "She wants some new toy cars."

"Nate, don't just buy what you want," Mira sighed, but oh, he definitely was.

"I think Ivory wants a new teddy to chew on," Mace mused softly.

But Laxus, who knew what his baby wanted was to be with him, not trapped back in her high chair, only grumbled to the boys, "Just remember your budgets. You run outta jewels, you're outta luck."

"Oh, dragon, they're big boys," Mirajane assured the man as she still neglected feeding herself, instead, watching over Ivory as the baby mostly made a mess of her eggs. "Remember, Daddy's gonna go with you, Pike, to get your list, and I'm going to expect you two, Nate and Mace, to take care of yourselves while I buy some things for the big dinner. Okay? Ooh and I gotta do some shopping for the guild-"

"We'll be good, Mom," Nate assured her with that bright grin only the woman got out of him. "Promise."

She believed them.

But only because they were all so excited.

Laxus didn't wanna leave poor, whiny Ivory with Gramps. But everyone's arms would be so full, coming back home, too full for her stroller, and, well, she was looking a bit sleepy, ready for her mid morning nap.

"Remember," Mira cautioned the boys as they approached the busy market, "no looking in one another's bags. And no talking to strangers. Unless they're shopkeepers, I guess. Maybe. And do not leave the market, Pike and Nate. I mean it. And oh, Pike, remember to hold Daddy's hand."

Oh, he definitely was.

"Alright, Pike," Laxus sighed some as he led his white haired child through the busy market, packed to its fullest as holiday shoppers perused the wares. "where should we head first?"

"Well, I wanna get Mommy some nail polish. And for Aunt Ever too."

"Uh-huh."

"And Ivy a bow."

"Uh-huh."

"And when I need to get you your gift," Pike asked, looking up at his father, "should I just tell you to close your eyes?"

"Sure, fine, whatever."

"Okay." Pike came to an abrupt stop in front of some mugs. "Close your eyes."

Laxus humored him, but only because Pike deserved it.

Mirajane was too busy though, planning out the family dinner after the festival as well as worrying over the list she had for the afternoon guild festivities to worry about presents. She and Laxus already had the boys big joint gift locked down and had for a few weeks. She'd just get her sister and Bickslow liquor, Freed some nice new cuff links, and Evergreen and Elfman something small since, you know, they were raising their son for them ninety percent of the time…

Or maybe she'd just also get them alcohol.

She did sigh some, when she thought of her dragon. The past year hadn't been the worst of their relationship, honestly, but it hadn't been the most pleasant either. Things were trending upwards though and she wanted to get him something nice. Special. He'd gone through a lot, providing in the past year for them all, and she didn't ever want him to not feel appreciated.

But Laxus felt much the same, glancing about at random things as Pike drug him through shop after shop, passed merchant displays. This pregnancy had been a bit more difficult on Mira than her first and having three kids (well, four) was a lot to balance. And she did so much work up the bar. Took care of his grandfather. Him. His demon looked out for all of them. He couldn't keep track of things, the way she did. For all the back breaking work he put in, training and taking jobs, it was always so much more draining, when he was filling in at home. He couldn't imagine dealing with the dumb guild, on top of that.

"I love the Winter Festival," Pike told him with a giggle as he blinked up at the light snowfall from above.

Laxus, not nearly as thrilled, made a face at the white specks as they drifted down, but still only grumbled to his son, "Yeah. Me too."

Still, the boys were all energized, on the long walk back home, carrying their bundles of gifts as their parents struggled with the other groceries.

"Nate, take your stuff to your bedroom," Mira sighed as, once the house was in sight, all three boys took off in a sprint, wanting to get there first. "Pike, go to yours. Mace, go to me and your uncles, huh? And I'll be by soon to give you all your wrapping paper and tape. No peeking at one another's stuff, okay? And Lax, just set the other stuff down in the kitchen, huh?"

Oh, he was. And then he was going to go steal his baby from dumb Gramps.

Ivory was excited to see her father, who only took her with him down to the hall a bit later, under the instruction of Mirajane, along with the things she needed brought there. The kids didn't go to the hall often, and Ivory even less than the boys, so she got made over a bit, when he entered with her, by the female members and that was fine; they could keep her for a second while he put the groceries in the back.

"Sis did the shopping, huh?" Lisanna asked from behind the bar as he walked in, all loaded up. "Hey, do you know what she's cooking for dinner? After the festival? Bickslow's cut out garlic."

"Why?" the slayer grumbled as she followed him into the back area. Not to help or anything, oh no, just observe. "In what world would garlic have any affect on-"

"Well, he just has, so-"

"Then I guess be better not eat, huh?"

"Are we eating something with garlic?"

"I don't fucking know, Lisanna. I-"

"Is someone grouchy?"

He was sour now, at least, but she only grinned at the face he made.

"Lighten up, big brother," she teased him openly. "It's almost Winter Festival."

Yeah. And that's why, after leaving the hall, he decided to stay out for a bit longer, to avoid the mess this was causing back at home.

It was a good time for Ivory, at least, who always enjoyed being pushed around in her stroller. But eventually the temperature felt like it was dipping a little bit too much and he decided to take her home. The boys were enjoying the outdoors, however, when he arrived, no doubt kicked out of the house by their mother, who was probably inside stressing over dinner and presents and ugh.

Pike was very busy hiding behind the big tree in the yard as Mace and Nate pelted one another with snowballs and Laxus only sighed, watching for a moment, before opening his mouth to call out for them to calm down a bit. But at the sound of his father's voice, Nate only turned to look at him, a devious look in his eyes, and turned his rapid fire onto the man.

Only, well, Laxus was just so tall and kind of far away still and the snow balls didn't smack into his father's face like he wanted, but rather into his sister's stroller and, well, she was not happy about this.

"Damn it, Nathan!"

"I'm sorry," he complained, rushing over as his father only moved to lift the baby into his arms. "I didn't mean to!"

"You have to be more careful!"

"Stop yelling at me! I already said sorry!"

"Lax, what's going on?"

And Mirajane was coming out there then, at the sound of all the yelling. She'd been expecting to break the boys up from, honestly, picking on Pike, but to find her husband back around, causing the issues only made her roll her eyes.

"He just threw a snowball at his sister."

"It was an accident, Mommy!" And Nate, who'd been going over to argue with his father (and comfort his sister) abandoned ship as he ran to his protector instead. "And he's yelling at me about it."

"We just have to be more careful," she sighed as, after patting her oldest on the head, she came to collect her youngest. "And Pike, why don't you go ahead and come inside too? You can help me make hot chocolate."

Anything to keep him away from the snowball fire. He'd come outside to make snow angels. If Ivory's reaction to getting a snowball to the face was any indication of how much it sucked, Pike wanted none of it.

Nate didn't have long to steam over his father (and, honestly, of missing and hitting his little sister) because Mace, seizing the older boy's distraction beaned him one, right in the face and oh, that would be paid back in full.

Bet.

Inside, he could hear Pike going on and on to his mother about how he'd really wanted to build an igloo and make snow angels, not get pummeled by snowballs, to which she listened sympathetically and assured him, before winter was over, she'd make sure he got to do both.

Laxus wanted to go snag Ivory, from where she was hanging off her mother's hip, but Mira seemed rather insistent on keeping her, so he only slunk off to go check in on the old man.

Makarov was standing up, over by his bedroom window, looking out over the front yard, no doubt watching his great-grandson. Great-grandsons, maybe. Depending on who you asked.

"You're too hard on him, Laxus," the man remarked without turning to look at his grandson. "Children make mistakes."

"You gotta be hard on them," the man retorted. "Or else they turn out like-"

"You?"

"Shuddup."

Makarov glanced over at him then, but only to ask, "And what of my hall?"

"Runnin' just fine without you anywhere near it," the slayer reported with a bit of snark. "Amazin' how that works, huh?"

After making a noise in the back of his throat, the older man remarked, "You should enjoy your boys. All of them. While you have them. Laxus."

"What are you talking about now?"

"Winter Festival only comes once a year." He was looking back then, out the window, down at where Nate had finally gotten the better of Mace once more. "Don't spend all of it looking so down."

He didn't want to. Had no intentions of doing so. Hadn't realized he was. But it was with furrowed brows that he ran into his wife, not soon after that, her headed into their bedroom to put Ivory down for her midday nap.

"Oh, dragon, did you want to take one with her?" she asked with a bit of a yawn herself, but while the man did lean down to brush his forehead gently against his sleepy baby's, he still found himself shaking his head.

"No," he sighed as he walked on then, to the kitchen to collect Pike and take him out into the backyard, away from the older boys for awhile. "I have snow angels to make."

And after that, a snowball fight to win.

And maybe even an igloo or two, in the coming days.

They passed quickly enough, the days, and then it was Winter Festival and man, the boys sure were hyped. They went down to the guild with their parents, a rare treat, where all the adults were having an early morning party with their guild family before the parade and other festivities.

As great as the parade was (and being at the hall where, each three hoped, even timid Pike, to one day find their own place), it was even better when it was over and they got to go home, where Mirajane and the reluctant Lisanna busied themselves in the kitchen while the others all sat around, drinking and talking as the boys sat in the corner, unwrapping their gifts first.

"Wow!" Pike lit right up when, upon unwrapping the presents from his cousin and brother, rather than finding toys the two older boys would be more interested in, he found that Mace had gotten him this extremely cool toy pirate ship to play with in the bathtub and Nate had gotten him a dark bandanna with a skull and cross bones over it.

"You gotta wear it like this," his big bubba said as he helped tie it over the bottom half of Pike's face.

"Now you're a real pirate," Mace assured him with a quick nod and the little white haired boy wasn't so sure, but he hoped so.

When the boys finished with their own gifts though, they were quick to go around to all the adults in the family, passing out the tiny ones they'd gotten them.

"I almost didn't get you anything," Nate remarked to Lisanna when he came in there to present his mother with a very nice spatula (he felt like she could use this a lot, when she was flipping him grilled cheeses; Mira pretended to not only be happy, but also surprised). "'cause you suck."

"Same," Lisanna remarked back as she handed him his very own five jewels! And he gave her this dumb keychain that she definitely wasn't going to keep forever or anything.

"I wrote you a card too, Mommy," he added to Mira who only nodded and sent him back into the living room to finish passing his things out.

Mace was very pleased with the holiday as it seemed to be the only one that ever got to his mother and convinced both of his parents to stick around, just for a bit. They were both gone so much, off on jobs or just busy, and that was fine, maybe, because Uncle Laxus and Aunt Mirajane weren't, they were there, they could be there, but…

There was just something different, about your actual mom and dad.

His father tossed him up in the air, like he was a very little boy again, instead of just a little boy, and told him that he'd wear his new tie everywhere and Evergreen sighed some, around her glass of wine at the cheap pair of earrings her son presented her with, before looking off and maybe she was just really sweaty. From being inside with the fireplace going and all. But it almost looked like she teared up. Maybe. As she thanked him.

Master loved all cards all three boys presented him and Nate declared that Egg liked his present the best, but Mace was pretty certain his littlest cousin loved her new teddy the most.

Laxus was talking with Freed over in the corner and Nate finished his rounds with the two of them, going over to give the green haired man a really cool comic book he found, with a sword fighter on it.

"I feel," Nathan told him simply, "like you need this."

Freed didn't, but bowed to the boy all the same.

Looking to his father then, Nate almost just stuck his tongue out, because Laxus was still a butt, he was the biggest butt, but he was still his dad and, well…

"Three coffee mugs," Laxus remarked as his oldest too presented him with one. Different, technically, than the one Mace had, with the lightning design, or the one he'd witnessed Pike get, with #1 Dad printed upon it, but not by much, considering it just said Magnolia on it and seemed to be some sort of touristy shit. "I...don't know how I'll pick which one to drink from first."

"Choose Pike," Mace suggested as he came over to beam up at his uncle. "He doesn't win lots."

But he felt like he'd won the world, as he just couldn't wait for once, until bath time, when he could play with his new pirate ship.

Bickslow was conspicuously absent, however, and it was about then that the boys were taking notice of this. As Nate was just about ready to eat the chocolate he bought his kinda uncle, kinda not, there was a loud knock at the door.

"Oi, boss," came a call from the other side. "Is it time?"

No better, anyways, as Laxus rushed to go toss the door open.

"Oh, wow!" Pike forgot all about his pirate dreams then as, along with his uncle, something else came barreling into the Dreyar household. "A puppy!"

The brown haired pup ran straight to the first equally excited thing it saw, which happened to be Mace, and as the boy fell to the ground, letting the new dog sniff and lick all over him, while Pike only observed with great interest, but from the safe distance of behind his Uncle Elf's legs, Nathan only stood there, silent for once.

Mirajane had come to peek in from the kitchen and frowned at first, seeing this. She'd been worried about it, getting a new dog without keying the boy into it at first. She'd had Laxus hold off on it for a few months, to let them process the loss of their last one. It had been rather devistating to the boys, especially Nathan, and while Laxus felt like the only way to cure this was a new beast, his wife wasn't nearly as certain.

She felt like her fears were founded as Nathan only stood there for a few moments, watching his cousin play with the puppy, and maybe they were. Because he did hesitate, feeling a bit of a pit in his stomach, because he wasn't so certain he wanted a new dog yet. Or a new anything. Two had been his entire world since, well, in his mind he was born, but in actuality, since he was just two himself, and…

Well…

"HE's my dog, Mace, so knock it off!" Nathan was running over there then, to make sure the dog knew who it belonged to.

"She," Laxus grumbled to his oldest as the dog seemed just as happy to attack the blond boy as well. "And she's all your dog, Nate. Mace. Pike. And I expect her to be cared for and trained and looked after. Not by your mom or Gramps either. By you."

It felt like a lot of responsibility. A lot to be dealt with another day, of course. And, as Pike tentatively went to investigate their new puppy further, the tension in the room was all but gone and things were at ease again.

Until that dang dog noticed Ivory over on the floor, happily chewing on her teddy, and came over to do so as well. And, well, as Laxus went to snatch her up and snuggle his little baby to him, he was glad to find her displeasure in Two hadn't been a fluke; she, much like her father, saw dogs for the foul beasts they were.

The time would be much later, after many drinks and a heavy dinner, as the boys drifted off not in their beds, but scattered around the living room with their toys and new puppy snoozing along beside them, and Gramps in the recliner as the rest of their family stumbled off drunk, that the demon and dragon finally found themselves alone.

"We have to," she yawned as she laid Ivory down in her crib and Laxus only stood over her shoulder, observing, but silent, "put the boys to bed. And Master. And the dog needs to go pee, before we do. Go to bed, I mean. And pee, I guess. And I need to-"

"Demon."

"Hm?"

When she turned to look at him, her blue eyes were glassy, from the wine with her dinner, and he only smiled weakly into them.

"I couldn't find the right thing to get you."

And she giggled, as he seemed disappointed in himself, reaching out to pat at his chest as she reassured him.

"I couldn't either."

And they both laughed, maybe a bit too loudly as it made Ivory whine from her crib, but as he peeked in at her once more, Mirajane only leaned forwards to rest her head on his chest.

"I got you a new coat," she told him softly. "It's all I could think of."

"I got you a necklace. It's nice, I guess, but it just… I don't know. I wanted to get you the perfect thing-"

"That's what I wanted to do for you."

"You are perfect for me."

"Lax-"

"You are." And he leaned down then to kiss her sleepily, drunkenly, but purposefully as well. As they blinked at one another in their dark bedroom, he whispered, "You're so perfect for me."

She blushed, more from the wine than his words, but nodded as she whispered, "So are you for me."

.

Full Series 

[sassysweetcollegegirls]

I’ll Love you No Matter What pt3

Breakfast was Lance’s second favorite meal of the day. Second because it required him to get up and there were never any Lucky Charm’s or just straight pancakes anymore. Hunk always did his absolute best to make breakfast as close to the stuff at home as possible. Of course it was always a little off but Lance still appreciated it for all it was worth. 

The door slid open and Lance takes a solid wiff of what Lance thought was waffle and eggy type. 

“HUNK MY MAN. What is on the menu today?” Lance walked toward the kitchen which was literally Hunks Natural habit. Hunk stood in his usual attire his apron tied around his waist a whisk in hand a look of pure concentration on his face.

“Take one more step McClain and you will be served last.” Hunk threatened drawing the whisk up and pointing at him a yellowish goop dripping from the end.

“Woah buddy what’s with the whisk of death?” Lance wasn’t used to Hunk being so well threatening in the morning usually he was humming and swaying offering Lance the opportunity to taste his creations.

Hunk rubbed his face and set the whisk in the bowl. “I was up all morning.” His body turning soft exhausted

“Hunk your up every morning.” Lance grabbed his friends shoulders and started rubbing large circles

“I was up earlier Lance. SOMEONE on this ship was pounding on doors and running and Lions it was a mess.” Hunk waived off Lances touch and went back to his cooking,” Some of us sleep ya know.”

“Maybe we can get the Gremlin to look at the feed from the cameras she never sle—-Aaaaahhhh!” As if brought on by the pure image of her in Lances brain Pidge showed up,” CAN YOU STOP DOING THAT?” Lance shrieked putting a hand to his heart and feigning fainting.

“You realize I have no idea what your talking about right?” She yawned and rover who was snuggled into her arms blipped awkwardly. Her hair was a casual disarray and she still wore the sweats she had been put to bed in,” Also I do sleep. You all just haven’t figured out the cycles yet.”

“Thus you are a Gremlin.” Lance grumbled and she slugged him lightly letting rover go. He began to flutter busily about the room as Hunk began tidying up the kitchen, “ what am I supposed to be doing?”

“Checking the feed for who was waking Hunk up with all the yelling and running in the halls this morning. “ Lance clarified stretching he had managed to dress. Pidge was always the last of them to dress. Shiro had stopped commenting on it a long time ago and Lance had just become so accustomed to her ducking out to get dressed after breakfast it was routine now.

Hunk was busy and he looked focused so he pushed Pidge out to the dining portion of the kitchen and gathered plates on his way.

“Did you hear the yelling and running?” Lance asked?

“Me? No. I was sleeping.” Pidge said stretching her belly showing a little the skin smooth. Lance looked toward the ceiling giving her a moment of privacy. Lance had sisters back home and they had drilled into him time and time again how important the female body was. How precious it was and that you only shared it with those precious or those of the same sex.

“Give me some plates we don’t want Hunk to see us slacking. He’s in a mood.” Pidge said taking the plates from Lances chest and making a neat stack. “ I’ll do the left you do the right.”

“ I’ll bet mines prettier than yours.”

“Your dreaming again Loverboy.”

“I WILL OWN THIS PLATE SETTING COMPETITION GUNDERSON.”

“YOUR ON.”

“I swear to god if either of you break my tableware your getting fed last.” Hunk grumbled as he brought spoons and forks out to the table and rover floated out behind him with a napkin.

The room became a flurry of limbs and plates and napkins and happy sounds that meant fun. Lance was folding corners and dancing, and Pidge was trying to make the perfect angles. While hunk slid steaming plates full of food in the center rolling his eyes at the antics and slapping trying fingers out of the way.

Coran was the first to join them. He had his tablet pressed to his nose reading an article in something Lance figured was probably was Altean. He almost tripped over Rover but Lance caught him with one arm his body was heavier than he expected.

“Coran what do you eat?” Lance teased setting the older man upright.

“I eat my normal squares plus Grandpa Wembeldons additional recommended portions!! If we’re going to complain about size my dear boy aren’t you a string?” He responded quickly straighting and fixing his coat.

“I am a Normal growing boy for your information!” Lance huffed turning.

The door opened and Allura stepped in. She was radiant beautiful and glowing in ways that reminded Lance of his sisters and of his mother. His heart puttered a little thinking about Allura and his family meeting (so maybe that crush wasn’t so over yet) and Pidge snickered next to him reminding him to be human.

“Good Morning Princess!” Lance choked out as she smiled and pressed her hand to Corans shoulder.

“Coran, now is not the time to be critiquing the physique of our Paladins. Have you found anything of importance?”

“As it so happens no. I was looking for brain fuel hopping it would get the old gears cranking.” Coran offered pointing to Hunks beautiful breakfast array.

“Good Morning Lonce. Pidge I hope you slept well? “ Allura greets as everyone begins taking seats at the table trying to relax and Hunk comes out to sit.

“I for one did not sleep this morning. Was anyone else woken up by the running and screaming? Or was that just me?” Hunk heaps his plate full of egg type things and passes the plate to Coran who calmly takes a scoop and passes the plate to Allura who seem to be sharing a look.

Lance watches but doesn’t comment and instead looks to where Keith usually sits across from him,” Hey where’s Keith? He never misses breakfast.” He comments calmly. His mind goes to Keith last night how he had laughed and smiled and had been gentle and carefree and it had felt so much like home it made Lance ache long after he left and he wanted to go back to Keith. Even if it was just to sit on the floor and poke his face while he slept. (That’s fucking weird Lance friends don’t do shit like that).

“Or Shiro!” Pidge remarks looking at his designated place next to her. He seemed to be the only one capable of making her actually eat anything and not start a food fight.

“I’m right here Pidge, Lance please tell me she has at least scooped something onto the plate.” Shiro said he was standing in the door his arms crossed his eyes open a smile on his face and he looked like he was gunna head down the stairs but something was stopping him.

“Have you seen Keith?” Lance asked and he realized he couldn’t help but be hopeful. He wanted to know if he’d washed the face mask off properly or if he’d left green goo in his hair.

Shiro smiles and looked behind him and whispered something and then he looked at the group,” okay let’s do this. Everyone close their eyes.”

Everyone let out a collective groan but obeyed and Lance heard Shiro shuffle quickly into his place next to Pidge. “When I say three everyone open okay?”

“What the hell is this Shiro?” Pidge whispers angrily

“One”

“I’m confused is this someone’s birthday, whose birthday is it?” Hunks asking almost panicked

“Two”

“I’m so excited! There won’t just be two of us anymore!!!” Allura sang and there was a groan from somewhere near the door.

“Three”

Lance is slow to open because he is looking at Shiro first because this was all Shiro’s idea of course. Shiro of course has this wide smile plastered on his face and he’s holding Pidge by the shoulders. Pidge’s eyes are bigger than blues noes and Lance turns to look at the door because the room has wrapped itself in silence.

Standing in the door is probably the most beautiful girl Lance has ever seen. Her hair is jet black and laid gently down her back, she has this porcelain skin that makes him think of dolls. She’s lean but she’s fit Lance doesn’t think she would have any problem lifting against him in a contest. She looks so uncomfortable though in a short yellow dress that’s scooped showing just a bit of her clevage and a lot of legs and (are those Keith’s boots?) and violet eyes that dart around the room uncertain. She tries to hide in her bangs, Lance wants to plead with her to come out and not hide the pretty sharp angles of her face. She’s rubbing her arms like she’s cold and half crossed half not like she’s not sure where to put them her hands are tiny (are those Keith’s gloves?) and Lance wants to draw them into his and blow hot air onto them and warm them up.

“Keith it’s alright it’s just breakfast.” Shiro states as he pushes Pidge into a normal not so shocked kind of state.

“THATS KEITH?!?” Pidge shouts her hands slamming on the table and standing

“KEITH?!?” Hunk drops his fork and looks at Coran for confirmation.

Lance is oblivious he’s stuck on the cherry lips and the violet of her eyes. Would a girl like that even look at a string bean like him?

Allura is smiling,” Keith your stunning now please can you just come sit down for breakfast? And we will explain everything. Yes?”

Then she starts moving her gates a little clumsy like she’s never walked in a dress before and Lance has this urge to rush forward and carry her down the two short steps and too the table. He looks around panicked as to where she’s going to sit. The only open spot is Keith’s (Keith won’t care this one time right?) And he rushes out of his chair to go pull out hers carefully his face red and everyone looks at him funny including her.

But damned Lance if he isn’t chivalrous. Keith takes a moment to stop and look at him. Her hair is so silky up close Lance holds his breath as she slides into the chair in front of him and then he pushes her in to the table stairing at the crown of her head biting his cheek. He carefully seats himself across from her again and everyone looks at him,” What?” Lance asks.

No one says anything and Keith’s cheeks turn pinker and Hunk chokes on a bite of his breakfast at the site. He’d at least tried to return to normality. Everyone waits and Shiro clears his throat,” as you can see Keith has joined us for breakfast....” Shiro is going on about how some kind of tattoo and blah blah blah and Lance is just oblivious.

He’s watching Keith pick apart egg type things with a fork. She has one hand cupped around her cheek and the other on the fork and she’s aggressive like they’ve done a sin and they need to pay for it. Her eyes are sad like they’ve been forgotten somewhere and placed in her perfect little head just for Lance to find. Then they turn to Lance and Lance swallows.

“If a turtle doesn’t have a shell is he homeless or naked?” Lance manages his mouth is dry and his palms are sweaty but those eyes look right into his.

“Lance what the hell are you talking about?” Keith asks, and her voice is like liquid honey that Lance never knew he needed. It’s so smooth and it just drips with sarcasm and so many things Lance can’t even wrap his mind around it hurts.

He leans over to Pidge,” How does she know my name?” he asks but his eyes never leave Keith who hasn’t stopped looking at him.

“Oh. my. god. Lance No. “ Pidge smacks her palm to her face and then wraps her arm around his neck and points at Keith.

“You know that guy you mock?”

“You mean Keith?”

“Mullet, grumpy, throws knives and flies the Red Lion?”

“Don’t tell me this is his sister?”

Pidge smacks him upside the head and points at Keith again,” That’s Him.”

There is silence at the table and Lance looks at the Violet eyed angel across the table and then he peeks under the table. No one stops him. They just let him for a moment look at the legs so slender and perfect and not hairy and not encased in super tight jeans but still wearing Keith’s boots.

He returns tableside to look at Keith who is sitting with the cute little pout across her lips an eyebrow raised in question.

“What?” Lance says and Keith rolls her eyes in the most attractive way possible.

“I told you this was fucking stupid.” The honey voice claims looking to Shiro who is trying not to lose his cool.

“Lonce were you not paying attention?” Allura asked and Lance looks toward her and for some reason she doesn’t look so pretty next to Keith. She’s pretty but she makes him think of moms and soap and laundry and he’s not sure what that means yet.

“I was...”

“No he wasn’t” the honey voice of Keith again. “He was to busy staring. I TOLD YOU TO LET ME STAY IN SHIROS HOODIE BUT NO. I had to wear this stupid...” She grips at the dress angrily as if she can tear it but then she realizes that people are watching and she just sulks deeper into the chair.

“Take my sweatshirt.” Lance offers before he’s even sure what the hell hes doing. He’s got the green thing off and he’s offering it to Keith across the table.

Keith looks at it and snatches it angrily and throws it on zipping it all the way up. She pulls the hood up and then looks at Lance crossing her arms.

“Lance you do realize that is Keith right?” Pidge asks him turning lance to face her.

“Keith is a She now?”

“Yes” everyone at the table goes at once. Everyone but Keith who looks like she would rather hide in a hole than be at this discussion.

Lance takes a moment to think about the girl across from him. The salty behavior the hardcore additidude and the eyes the gloves the boots, the outbursts. It all makes sense. It doesn’t stop what comes out of his mouth though ,” About that turtle.” 

“ Lance.” Shiro’s warning voice is present but Keith is chuckling and she’s covering her mouth with one of his sleeves. And it’s the most beautiful thing Lance has ever heard. 

Everyone has stopped to watch Keith now who seems to be trapped in fits of laughter that don’t really make sense in the seriousness of all this. “ Freaking Lance is, asking me about Turtles after we tell him I lost my penis.” 

“This is serious business Keith. IS he NAKED or HOMELESS?” 

Theres a collective groan around the table and Keith just continues laughing and It’s a beautiful thing. It’s airy and soft and full of shit that makes Lance feel like he’s not even real. 

“You two are officially the worst at dealing with news.” Hunk groaned pushing his now empty plate toward the center.  

“I want everyone to agree that this isn’t going to move the team backwards. Until we find a solution Keith will be stuck like this. So Keith, do you prefer us to call you by female or male pronouns?” Shiro asked trying to calm everyone again and find a solution. 

Keith suddenly in the spotlight for a reason other than sharing it with Lance began blushing. “ I feel like me. I know I have boobs and stuff but I feel Like Keith...So can we just do Keith? and whatever works from there?”  There was a softness to the tone of her voice that everyone had to lean forward for. 

“Fair enough.” Pidge claimed swiping her plate and Shiro’s despite the dirty look Shiro passed her. 

“Everyone meet on the training deck in Half an hour.” Allura Sang walking backwards out the door. 

“ LANCE it’s your turn to help with clean up.” Hunk said which meant he wanted to talk to Lance. 

“Keith, I wanna go to your closet and see if I can help you find comfortable stuff to wear. You look like your miserable in that.” Pidge said as she went to Keith and Keith looked grateful from his place in Lance’s hood the ends of his hair poking out cutely. 

“You'd do that for me?” Keith asked the honey voice soft. 

“Yeah I’ll show you how to fix clothes so they fit you.”  And then the two of them were gone leaving Hunk and Lance and Shiro who seemed to be looking at Lance puzzled. 

“What?” Lance asked

Shiro just smiled and rubbed the back of his head before heading outside. Hunk handed Lance a pile of plates,” Dude the staring was weird.” Hunk murmured 

“Do you know how pretty Keith is?” Lance hissed,” I looked at Allura and I thought about Laundry soap! Who does that?” 

“Uhhh- You?” 

“Right but Keith,his skin is like smooth and it looks soft, do you think it’s soft Hunk?” 

“ Dude this is gunna be hard for you isn’t it?” 

“Definatly.” 

“I’m gunna need the first aid kit?” 

“For sure.” 

Hunk just sighs and Lance hands him another dish to be magically washed by the machine that washes dishes one by one. He’s got his head in the clouds thinking about violet eyes and long black hair in a bright yellow dress. 

[primatechnosynthpop]

A Rose Shall Bloom (And Then Shall Fade)- part 7

It rained pretty hard on the day of Natalie’s wedding, but luckily, the indoor location prevented the weather from spoiling the event. There was quite an impressive turnout–easily double the amount of people that had been at Claire and Gretchen’s own wedding. Natalie and Victor must have known a lot of people; Claire didn’t recognize anyone there aside from the Petrellis (including Simon, Monty, and their respective wives and kids, who Claire was pleasantly surprised to see in attendance). The chapel they held the wedding in was spacious and elegant, and a strong but not overpowering flowery scent hung in the air. It was the perfect scene, or at least as close as one could realistically get. Claire sat next to Peter during the ceremony, and unsurprisingly, he cried a lot as his daughter exchanged her vows with Victor. As lukewarm as Claire’s feelings toward Victor were, in that moment, she was genuinely very happy for them.

After the ceremony, everybody milled about inside the chapel, dancing and having some refreshments. Claire felt a little awkward since she didn’t know many people there, so she and Gretchen more or less hovered around Peter and Emma until they split off to go talk to a couple of Natalie’s friends. At that point, Claire asked Gretchen if she wanted to dance, and they took to the floor. A fast, upbeat song was playing, and Gretchen had a hard time keeping up with the tempo, but Claire had fun anyway. They hadn’t danced together in a long time, and seeing how happy Natalie and Victor looked together had put Claire in a romantic mood.

As the song wound down, a surprisingly familiar voice caught Claire’s attention, and she looked over her shoulder to see her employee, Mike, waving at her enthusiastically from across the room.

“Hey! Hey, Boss, nice to see you here!” he called, grinning. “I didn’t know you knew these guys!”

Claire returned his wave and headed over to talk to him, glad to see a familiar face amongst the crowd of strangers. He was hanging out by the refreshment table next to a middle-aged couple who she guessed were his parents. They looked nice–for a moment, they almost reminded Claire of her own parents–and they seemed to be deeply engaged in conversation with a small group of other people their age. Mike was dressed in a somewhat rumpled button-down top with a floral pattern, a pair of black jeans, and designer sneakers; his hair, which he’d grown out to a little over shoulder-length over the past couple years, was tied back in a ponytail. It was a pretty casual look for a wedding, especially compared to what everyone else was wearing, but his parents were dressed in a similarly casual style. Claire wished she could have been wearing that type of outfit rather than the strapless red dress and high heels she wore.

“Hi, Mike,” she greeted him. “How are you doing?”

“Oh, I’m great, Boss,” he said. “So, what brings you here? You know these guys?”

“Natalie is my cousin,” Claire told him. “How do you know them?”

“Victor is related to my dad,” Mike explained. His eyes wandered over to Gretchen, who had her arm looped casually around Claire’s waist, and he raised his eyebrows. “…And you are?”

“I’m Gretchen,” she said. “I’m Claire’s…”

Gretchen shot Claire a tentative, questioning look. Would Mike believe that they were wives? Claire hadn’t told him about her whole situation, per se, but he had been a worker at her restaurant for a few years now, and he must have noticed that she wasn’t aging. Plus, a quick Google search would reveal that she was the “indestructible girl” who’d revealed the existence of people with powers to the world–it wasn’t exactly a big secret that she was immortal. If Mike did know that Claire wasn’t nearly as young as she looked, telling him the truth would be fine, and if he didn’t know… well, that initial moment of confusion would be better than pretending that Gretchen was an older female relative of some sort, as she was so often mistaken for.

“Oh,” Mike said with a snap of his fingers before Claire could say anything. “That’s your wife, isn’t it, Boss? I’ve heard you talking to her on the phone at work.” Then, turning back to Gretchen with a respectful dip of his head, “Nice to meet you, Boss’s wife!”

“Er, nice to meet you, too.”

“So, just to clarify,” said Claire, “You know that Gretchen and I are actually the same age?”

“Oh, yeah, I know all about your whole ‘never aging’ thing,” Mike said, nodding in a surprisingly casual manner. “Or, at least, I thought that might be the case when I saw you two dancing together. One of the kids at my school has a grandfather who’s the same way. That kid and his grandfather look about the same age. It’s totally wild!”

Claire relaxed a little, glad that she didn’t have to awkwardly explain herself or lie about her wife’s identity. Grabbing a miniature cupcake from a platter on the refreshment table, she idly fiddled with the wrapping as she eased into casual conversation with her employee.

“So, have you been to New York before?” she asked.

“Once,” he said. “But it was when I was pretty little, so I don’t remember it very well. How about you?”

Claire and Gretchen exchanged a bemused glance.

“Let me tell you, Mike…” Gretchen said, clapping Claire on the shoulder, “My wife’s family has a very long history with this city.”

“Long and… complicated,” Claire added. “Explosive, one might say.”

“Uh, okay,” Mike said, raising his eyebrows. “Well, uh, it’s a pretty cool city, right?”

“Oh, yeah, absolutely,” Claire agreed. Then, changing the subject: “Say, how would you feel about a promotion sometime?”

Mike’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”

Claire nodded in affirmation. Business at the restaurant was still at a steady decline, and although she was determined to keep its doors open for as long as possible, it wasn’t looking like things were going to be improving for the business financially anytime soon. As such, a lot of her employees had left to seek more secure positions, leaving her with big gaps in staff. Claire could think of nobody better to fill them than a bright, friendly young man like Mike, with such a terrific work ethic. Besides, attending her cousin’s wedding had put her in a generous mood.

“Gee, Boss, that… that’s great,” Mike said, a giddy grin spreading over his face. “Thank you so much!”

“It’s no problem,” she told him. “You deserve it.”

Things had been had before, and it was hard to say how long it would be until they got bad again. Realistically speaking, the restaurant would likely be out of business in a few years. None of Claire’s friends were getting any younger, and while Peter was thankfully still very healthy for his age, Emma was getting progressively weaker, with frantic bouts of sickness. Even so, Claire tried not to let these concerns quell her enjoyment of the rare good day such as that one. She knew all too well that nothing she did would stop people from growing old and dying, so there was no reason not to try to just live in the moment.

Regardless of what bad things the future brought–and it would bring bad things; Claire knew that from experience–the day of Natalie and Victor’s wedding was a good day.

*

Mike did a great job in his new position, as Claire had been confident he would. She also managed to get a couple new hires, one of whom had a surname she was quite familiar with. During the job interview, Claire was just about to ask if there was any relation when the girl sitting across from her answered the question for her.

“Yeah, so, I think I’m pretty qualified,” the girl–MacKenzie, her resume said her name was, although she’d introduced herself as “Mac”–said, leaning back in her chair to stretch. “Plus, my dad is a pretty big deal around here. Matthew Parkman the Second, head of Parkman’s Repair Shop? You’ve heard of him, right? He used to take me and my siblings to your restaurant all the time when we were little.”

“Yes, I certainly am familiar with him,” Claire said. Suddenly realizing that she hadn’t heard from Matt in a while, she asked, “Say, how’s your grandfather doing these days?”

“Oh…” MacKenzie’s gaze dropped to her lap, where she shuffled her folded hands awkwardly. “Um, he’s actually not doing too well right now. He’s in the hospital after having a heart attack a couple weeks ago, um… I don’t know if he’s going to get better. How did you know him?” she asked, eyes darting back up to meet Claire’s gaze.

“I, uh,” Claire mumbled, stunned to have found such a thing out in such a way. “We go way back, actually. Me and my uncle and my dad–both my biological and adoptive dad, actually–and my grandmother, and all their old friends, and a bunch of other people, too–we all, um, knew each other back in the day.”

MacKenzie stared at Claire, as though unsure what to make of that response. “That’s weird,” she said after a moment. “You look so young.”

“Well,” Claire said quietly, “I’m not.”

The interview got back on track, and MacKenzie left a good enough impression that Claire decided to hire her. Business at the restaurant continued as normal for some time. They gradually stopped losing customers, and even managed to draw a few new customers in, although business still wasn’t anywhere near as booming as it once had been. Claire didn’t tell any of her employees any more about her past, deciding that it was too personal, and that they didn’t need to know. In fact, she’d nearly forgotten about the whole thing until, a few weeks later, MacKenzie called her one morning to say she wouldn’t be coming in to work that day.

“Um, I’m really sorry, Ma'am, but I don’t think I can come in,” MacKenzie said in a hoarse voice, as though she had been crying. “Grandpa Matt passed away last night, and my dad’s really torn up about it, and… well, so am I, so…”

“I understand,” Claire said, before she could fully process what her employee had just said. “I can find somebody else to cover your shift, don’t worry.”

It was only after she’d ended the call that it sunk in–Matt was dead. It didn’t come as a surprise, exactly–it rarely did, at the age he’d been–but it sure as hell wasn’t a great thing to learn first thing in the morning. Claire sat in silence on the foot of her bed for a moment, not quite sure how to process the information. She ought to call Peter and tell him, she supposed. She should tell Hiro, too–he and Matt had been pretty close. She hadn’t actually spoken to Hiro in a long time–she wasn’t even sure she still had his number–but he deserved to know. As she scrolled through her list of contacts, though, she realized that she was going to be late for work. Phone calls could wait until later, she decided. The last thing she wanted was to be unprofessional.

Well, that wasn’t really true. The last thing she wanted was to keep losing people she cared about, but she knew that wasn’t going to happen, so she would just have to settle for professionalism.

*

When somebody dies and you could see it coming for a long time beforehand, it didn’t make finally losing them any easier. After falling ill and being hospitalized for over a year, Emma passed away overnight. The doctors said she died peacefully, in her sleep. Nevertheless, Peter took it extremely hard, and fell into a deep depression. He refused to talk to anyone for several weeks, not answering any of Claire’s calls or texts. Natalie reported that he was staying cooped up at home and hadn’t left the house at all.

“The last time I dropped by his house, his fridge was empty,” Natalie told Claire during a late-night phone conversation. “I told him he needs to restock, and he just groaned and changed the subject. I’m really worried about him.”

“Yeah, me too,” Claire agreed. “Say, how are you holding up?” she added. She knew how awful it was to lose a parent, and she hoped that her cousin’s mental health wasn’t in too bad a state.

“Oh, I’m doing alright,” Natalie said, maybe a little more quickly than she would have if she meant it. “I’ve felt better, of course, but at least I have Victor and my friends to help me through it. But Dad is taking it really hard,” she went on. “I think maybe you should try paying him a visit. He really loves you, you know.”

“He loves you, too,” Claire said, a bit puzzled by Natalie’s statement. “You’re his daughter.”

Natalie didn’t say anything in response to that. Rather, she repeated her statement that she thought Claire should go visit Peter. Claire agreed to give it a try, and she ended the call without prying any deeper into her cousin’s feelings. If Natalie had inherited that Petrelli family stubbornness, Claire would have little luck convincing her to discuss feelings she’d rather keep secret.

Claire took some time off of work, putting Mike in charge while she was gone–he was due for another promotion soon, she decided–and drove up to New York City to see her uncle. It was winter, and snow had piled up in Peter’s driveway, going completely unshoveled. Claire had to park her car in the road outside his house. After making her way up the snow-covered driveway and onto his front steps, she tentatively rapped on the front door. There was no response, so she tried ringing the doorbell. She heard a muffled “who is it?” from inside, and was relieved that at least she hadn’t been met with a “go away”.

“It’s Claire,” she said, speaking loudly so he could hear her through the door. “Can I come in?”

There was a shuffling sound from inside, and the door swung open. Peter’s now almost entirely gray hair was disheveled, with bangs hanging over his bag-rimmed eyes and covering much of his face. The beard which Claire had at one point thought made him look distinguished was ratty and unkempt. He was wearing a gray tank top and sweatpants, and a faint stench hung in the air that suggested he’d been wearing that exact ensemble for several days in a row. He looked an absolute mess, but even so, a hint of a smile crept onto his face when he saw Claire. He welcomed her inside and pulled her into a tight hug.

It absolutely broke Claire’s heart to see her uncle in such a state. He hadn’t been so inconsolable in a long time–not since Nathan had died, all those years ago. She’d never lost either a brother or a longtime romantic partner–at least not yet, the nagging voice in the back of her mind reminded her–so she didnt have much frame of reference as to which one was worse. It didn’t really matter, though, because grief affected everyone differently, and Peter was clearly going through an extremely rough patch right now.

“How are you?” Peter asked as they sat down together on the couch in his living room. A thin layer of dust had built up on all the furniture in the room, and Claire guessed that the rest of the house was the same way. “Are you doing okay?”

“I’m fine,” she assured him. “But what about you? It looks like you could use some companionship right about now.”

“Mm.” Peter leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes. For perhaps the first time, he looked like an old man. He still looked impressively young for his age, but even so, he was more than eighty years old now, and it showed on his weathered, wrinkled skin and his wispy gray hair. “That’s why you came here?”

“Why else?”

Peter was silent for a moment–quite a long moment, actually. As Claire watched the slow, steady ride and fall of his chest, she began to wonder if he had fallen asleep. However, he spoke up just then, his voice low and hoarse.

“Claire, I am so sorry.”

Claire blinked in confusion. “Sorry for what?”

“I’m sorry that you’re going to have to go through this with Gretchen one day,” Peter sighed. “I mean… we’ve both lost people before, lots of people, and it hurts so bad every time. When Nathan died, I… I never thought I would be happy again.” He took in a deep, shaky breath, then continued. “Every loss feels different. But the woman you love–your lifelong partner–that’s a unit that you’re now the only part of. For so long, I saw Emma every day, in this very house. Without her around, it…”

He trailed off. Claire placed her hand on top of his and gave it a gentle, comforting squeeze. Peter sighed and leaned against her, putting his head on her shoulder. There was an empty rocking chair in the corner of the room. When Peter’s gaze wandered over to it, he shut his eyes and grimaced. Claire felt something wet against the fabric of her shirt sleeve, and she realized that Peter was crying.

“If I went back to my childhood home, I don’t think it would feel right without Nathan, and without Ma and Pa,” he said quietly. “Without Emma, this house feels the same way. It’s like it’s not our home–my home–anymore.”

Claire didn’t have an easy response for that. She had yet to go through what Peter was going through now (the fact that she one day would go through it weighed heavy on her mind, but this wasn’t about her right now) so she had no idea how to reassure him, or if she even could. All she could do was be there for him, and that was exactly what she planned to do, for as long as he needed her to.

*

The department store where Claire had once worked as a cashier has been long since bought out by another chain, and that business in turn had been bought out, and then the whole place had emptied out and fallen into disrepair. It didn’t bother her much, since she’d never liked that job anyway, but it still reminded her of a happier point in her life. If she’d never gotten that side job as a waitress, how different might her life have turned out?

Although the department store was long gone, the adjacent coffee shop where Claire had used to get coffee with Tracy was still there. Sure, it was obviously under completely different ownership now, and the menu was a bit different, and it was in fact technically an entirely different coffee shop, but regardless of what it was called or who was running the place, it was still the same building. Claire still liked to drop by there from time to time, although now she was rarely accompanied by anyone. Tracy wasn’t getting out much anymore–in fact, she was almost completely bedridden. Her bones and joints had become increasingly stiff and frail as she aged, and she’d been wracked with debilitating arthritis. When she did get up and move about, she used a walker, or sometimes a wheelchair. Micah was taking a lot of time off from work to look after her as her health gradually dwindled. That kid–Claire always thought of him as a kid, still, even though he was on the older side of middle-aged now–had wound up doing well for himself, even though he remained single and had never really “settled down”. That was something to be happy about, at least, although it was hard to be happy for long when Micah himself was beginning to go gray. Time just kept dragging on and on, inescapable, barely giving you time to recover from one tragedy before moving on to the next…

It was a damn depressing thing to think about, and Claire tried to shove it to the back of her mind as she pulled up a chair in the coffee shop and sat down with a freshly brewed latte. It was a warm but rainy summer afternoon, and the coffee shop was packed with teenagers and young adults, many of them staring out windows–no doubt searching for inspiration for the novels they planned to write someday. Claire mentally wished them all luck and took a tentative sip of her latte. It tasted fine–worth her money, but nothing to write home about. It never was, really; if the coffee was below average, the shop probably would’ve been out of business, and if it was above average, then the rival shop across the road would’ve been out of business.

Out the window, a couple of kids ride by on bicycles down a sidewalk that had been riddled with bumps and cracks for as long as Claire could remember, but had recently been repaved so that it was sleek and smooth and uniform. She wondered where the kids were going. Maybe to the corner store down the road… no, that had closed down ages ago and been converted into a barber shop. Maybe the kids were going to get haircuts, then.

The whole city was a lot different now than it had been when Claire had first moved there. When she’d been a teenager, she could hardly have imagined being able to settle down in one place for so long–long enough to see it develop and change to the point where it was almost completely unrecognizable. It was bittersweet in a way. Businesses closed, people aged and died, but new businesses opened up and new people were born. Life went on.

Claire realized, of course, that she was extremely lucky, after everything she’d been through growing up, to now have a nice, normal life. She was glad things had turned out so well for her, she really was. In many ways, she truly had gotten a happily ever after kind of ending. Only her story hadn’t ended, because real life doesn’t end until you die, and Claire was never going to die. You never wanted to think about what happened after the story ended, did you? And not in some laughably edgy, “what if the handsome price turned out to be a bad husband” kind of way, but rather… you could end up really happy, in a good life, but it wouldn’t last forever. That wasn’t how life worked. Life–time, cities, the world–was designed for people who wouldn’t be there forever. The world rarely thought to accommodate for its permanent residents, because it usually didn’t have any.

There was, oddly enough, a different woman named Tracy who stopped by the coffee shop frequently, usually accompanied by her husband. They were a nice old couple, and Claire always enjoyed seeing them there. Today, they were seated towards the back of the coffee shop, ooh-ing and ahh-ing over a new flavour of iced cappuccino. The man leaned back in his seat, tapping the pair of drumsticks he always carried around against the table, and ran his hands through his short-cropped gray hair, while his wife smacked her lips together and tried to describe the flavour.

“It’s like… it’s like, a hint of really fine dark chocolate… with a dash of cinnamon!” she exclaimed, snapping her fingers triumphantly as she came to her conclusion.

“Yes! Yes, that’s exactly it!” her husband cheered, as though she had just made a huge scientific breakthrough. He pumped his arms in the air, in a way that almost reminded Claire of Hiro (although Hiro hadn’t been so enthusiastic in a long time). “Honey, you are a genius, you know that?”

Claire observed the couple happily as she sipped the last dregs of her coffee. Out the window, a young woman was walking her dog, and down the sidewalk, a group of teens talked and laughed amongst themselves as they strolled leisurely with freshly purchased coffees in hand. The sun was shining bright in the cloud-speckled cerulean sky. It was a lovely day.

Claire had lost a lot, and she would continue to lose more people as time went on, but that didn’t mean she had to be miserable all the time. Things changed, herself included, but there would always be nice days like this one, until the end of time. Besides, not every change was for the worse. People died, but people were born too. That was the balance of life. And as long as there were nice days, Claire would put aside all the pain she’d accumulated over her life and try to enjoy the moment. After all, since she couldn’t do anything to stop things from changing, she owed it to herself to slow down, take a breather, and appreciate the nice weather and a good cup of coffee.

Once she was finished with her latte, Claire got up to leave. As she headed out the door, her phone buzzed. She checked her notifications to see a new text from Gretchen which read, “can you stop for groceries? We need bread”, followed by a bread emoji and a couple of hearts. Claire smiled and texted back an affirmative response as she climbed in her car. The nearest grocery store was about ten minutes away, but it was worth the drive. As Claire fastened her seatbelt–which technically she didn’t really need, but the less she died, the better–she turned on the radio and put it to the oldies station, which played songs from when she had been on her thirties and forties. They were, needless to say, a far cry from what she would have considered oldies, but hey… time marches on, and all that.

Claire leaned back comfortably in her seat, rolled the window down a crack, and began to drive.

[taejinpurple-blog]

ARTISTIC BEAUTY OF LOVE- CHAPTER 2

Fluffy Romantic Story about two guys who became friends and blossomed into something more.

*Mature Scenes later on.*

Trigger Warning: Speaks about sexual abuse in later chapters.

I did my best with editing. Sorry in advance if there are any mistakes. But I really tried to make sure there were not many. Please enjoy

Previous Chapter: https://hopeless-taejinstan.tumblr.com/post/172321771135/artistic-beauty-of-love-chapter-1

Jin stared at his notes, the beginning of the semester was always the slowest part of school. He looked towards the other side of the classroom where Miyeon was taking her notes. She was the only girl who didn’t chase after him or act silly when he looked at her. He still remembered the first time he ever laid eyes on her.

~~~~~

Jin yawned lying on a bench taking a quick nap. He still had another hour before his next class.

“Leave me alone!” He heard a girl shouted.

“Why baby? You don’t wanna go to the movies with us? He heard a guy ask.

“The more the merrier, right?” He then heard another guy and sat up. He saw three guys pinning a girl to a tree. He stood up walking over to them.

“Didn’t she say to leave her alone?” He asked making them look at him. The three guys instantly surrounded him.

“Aren’t you bold there, pretty boy? I would keep quiet if I was you since you’re outnumbered.”

Jin punched him in the stomach, the other guys were shocked by his sudden attack and saw their friend was out cold. Jin did a roundhouse kick in the air before looking at them.

“I’m a black belt, wanna try your luck?”

The two guys picked up their friend and ran off. He looked at Miyeon who was wiping her tears away. He paused when her soft doe-like brown eyes looked up at him. His breath caught in his throat at her beauty. Her straight jet-black hair flowed down to the middle of her back and her bangs stopped at her eyebrows. He noticed she was thin but had some curves.

“Thank you so much for helping me.” She smiled walking towards him. His cheeks became hot.

“Y-Yeah …bye.” He gathered his stuff and ran to the nearest building.

~~~~*~~~~

He moaned to himself. “Kinda after that, I’ve never been able to talk to her no matter how much I tried.” He thought to himself.

She glanced at him and he instantly looked away. She forced a small smile and looked at the professor.

~~~~*~~~~

Tae hummed to himself walking down the hallway. He couldn’t wait for his last class to end. He was going to be able to challenge himself in drawing. He walked into his art class and spotted the boy with light brown hair that he shared a table with.

“Hey, Jungkook.” He ran over to the table as Jungkook smiled at him.

“Morning Tae.” Tae sat down next to him. “Have you thought about what to draw for class?” He asked. Tae placed his head on the desk sighing.

“It’s between a tree and a fruit bowl right now?” He asked and Jungkook nodded.

“There you are Tae.” Yoongi walked into the classroom.

“Yoongi Hyung, what brings you here?”

“Your grandfather said you left your money on the kitchen table.” He handed Taehyung his money.

“Oh, I really did! Thank you so much, Hyung!”

Yoongi yawned. "Not a problem."

“Ah Hyung, this is my friend Jungkook. He’s the first person I became friends with here. Jungkook this is Yoongi Hyung, he’s renting a room at my grandfather’s house.”

“Nice to meet you.” Jungkook shook his hand.

“You too.” He gave a soft smile and walked out the class ignoring the girls that were staring at him.

“Wow, you live with him?”

“Yeah and five others.”

“He’s really hot.” Jungkook smiled and Taehyung tilted his head.

“Are you into men?”

“I am.”

“Wow, you're so straightforward about it. You never felt any confusion about it or anything?”

Jungkook shook his head. “ Not really, I knew from a young age and my mom accepted it with open arms so I’m comfortable in my sexuality. How about you?”

Tae folded his arms. “I am too though I tend to my thoughts and feelings to myself."

"Your family doesn't except you?"

"My mom does and that's really all that matters. But my other family still kinda stick their noses up at me." He shrugged.

"If they can't accept you, then fuck them. That's my motto this year."

They both laughed.

~~~~*~~~~

Jin and Tae entered the house after classes. Once Tae walked through the door he turned to Jin.

“Okay, time for a naked picture!”

Jin covered his mouth looking around.

“Babo, don’t say that out loud! You don’t know who's here and worse what if Grandpa hears and gets the wrong idea.” He scolded the freshman. “I’ll meet you in your room. I gotta prepare myself mentally for this.” He sighed, and Tae nodded skipping off. “Why did I agree to this again?” He groaned walking into the bathroom.

He knocked on Tae’s door after leaving the bathroom.

“Come in,” he said. Jin took a deep breath and walked inside. He saw Tae’s back facing him. He looked around and his mouth flew open. His walls were covered by anime posters, idol groups, and random drawings.

“What is all this?”

“All the anime and music I like.” He said. “When I like something, I like to hang it on my wall, so I don’t forget that I liked it.” He began rambling about the different types of music and anime he liked. Tae then looked at Jin who’s eyes widened.

“Y-Y-Your glasses?”

Tae rubbed the back of his neck. “When I seriously draw something I usually put contacts in because my glasses sometimes hinder my view.” He ran his hand through his hair and used a headband to hold his hair back.

Jin stared at him in amazement. Now that he was able to see his full face, he was very handsome. His features were almost unrealistic, big beautiful bright brown eyes, nicely shaped plumped lips. His eyes traveled down to his body where he noticed a white t-shirt and ripped denim jeans.

He closed his eyes shaking his head. What the hell was he looking at? And handsome or not this guy was weird.

Tae tilted his head.

“Jin Hyung, are you alright?”

“Let’s get this over with.” He mumbled, and Tae nodded and set up a chair for himself.

“You can sit on my bed.”

Jin removed his shirt, Tae looked at him before looking away. Next, Jin removed his pants and neatly folded them on the bed. He took a deep breath to remove his boxer briefs until Tae sprang up.

“What are you doing?!”

Jin saw Tae’s face was beet red making his own cheeks heat up.

“I’m getting naked like you wanted to draw!”

“But when you take your boxers off …you’ll be barring everything.”

“Yeah!”

“Okay.” Tae took a deep breath.

Jin turned his back to him. “Don’t get embarrassed after asking me to do this.” He muttered. He placed his hands on the rim of his underwear and began to pull them down.

“W-W-Wait!” Tae grabbed his wrist making Jin look at him.

“What now?”

“You can keep your boxers on and just throw that sheet over your lap instead.” He said making Jin’s face drop. “My innocent eyes shouldn’t see such a thing.”

“Your innocent eyes are gonna get fist soon,” Jin said making Tae chuckle. “How long?”

“About an hour.” He said sitting down across from Jin. “Just place your hands on your lap.”

Jin watched as Tae’s eyes darted from him to the sketchpad. Jin looked up at one of the posters in boredom. He noticed five guys posing with big smiles.

“Who are they?” He finally asked. Taehyung looked at him before turning to see what he was looking at. He then smiled and went back to drawing.

“That’s BigBang, they’re really awesome.”

“Ah, I heard of them.”

“They’re good right?”

“Yeah.”

“You can talk as long as you stay still. I know an hour or so will be boring just sitting there. I really appreciate this, so thank you.”

“I guess your welcome …you did force me kinda,” Jin said making Tae giggle. “How long have you been drawing?”

“Since I was about four or so. I’ve always loved drawing.”

“What brought you here?”

“I heard this college had a great art program.”

“My questions aren’t distracting you, are they?”

“No, I have a younger brother that’s eight years younger than me, so I mastered the art of multitasking.”

“Your dad is Grandpa’s son, but he said he hadn’t seen you in five years. Are your parents divorced or something?”

“My father died five years ago.”

Jin instantly winced. “Ah, s-s-sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up something tender.”

“It’s alright, I like to speak about my father.”

“So it’s just you, your mom and your little brother.

“And my stepdad, my mom remarried two years ago.”

He nodded. “How is your stepdad? Is he one of those stepparents from hell?” Jin tilted his head when he saw Taehyung visibly flinch but he remained silent waiting for him to say something.

Tae licked his lips and moved his face closer to the sketchpad.

“H-H-He’s cool.” He managed to get out. That was an odd response but then again Jin noted Tae was odd himself. “Enough about me, what about you?”

Jin groaned a bit, he hated talking about himself.

“What do you wanna know?”

“I don’t know, tell me a little about your background, your hobbies and why you live here.”

“I have a mom, dad an older brother. He’s ten years older than me and he’s currently married with two kids a boy and girl.”

“Aw, how old?” Taehyung smiled.

“My nephew is five and my niece is three.” He then sighed. “No one but Kennie and Grandpa knows this but I feel like I can trust you.” Tae looked at him for a moment before going back to his drawing. “My family is wealthy, I came here for that reason. I wanted to make a living on my own and not constantly live under the shadow of my brother and father and I don’t have any hobbies.” He shrugged.

Tae stopped drawing and stared at him.

“You don’t have anything you like to do?”

“Not really.”

Tae placed the sketchpad on his lap. “That’s bad! Hyung, you must have something that you enjoy doing in your spare time, at least one thing!”

Jin rubbed his head trying to think. “Well I used to play the acoustic guitar but I stopped my senior year of high school because I felt it was pointless.”

Tae gasped as his eyes grew wide. “You can play the guitar? You should still play it! I wish I could play music but my talent is drawing so I can’t complain but being able to play an instrument is a blessing and you shouldn’t take it for granted.”

Jin rubbed his head from getting lectured. “But I have no time anymore between full-time college and full-time work.”

“There’s always time to do something that makes you feel at ease. If you don’t make time for yourself you’ll be old, gray and bitter before you know it wondering why nothing ever makes you happy. It’s important to take time for yourself.” Tae pointed his pencil at Jin. “Hyung, take better care of your mental health.”

Jin laughed, this guy never failed to amaze him.

“I would love to hear your play one day.” He said smiling.

Jin stared at him. No had ever said those words to him before and he almost didn't know what to make of it.

One amazed him about Tae. Not only did he have a hidden beauty on the outside but on the inside of him was something beyond words. He found it funny that Tae was so quick to say someone like him was beautiful but he felt the real beautiful person was him.

Next Chapter: https://hopeless-taejinstan.tumblr.com/post/172349423050/artistic-beauty-of-love-chapter-3

[the-miss-lv]

Time moved on.

Newt took care of the humans faithfully as he did the animals and creatures of the forest. Elizabeth’s children’s children had their own young and so on, over and over until Newt lost count of what generation they were. The village changed as the centuries went by. It grew and then shrank when people left for cities. But then people returned to the quiet and safe town. It never became too large, always just the right size, hundreds but not thousands. 

When the plants they ate grew sparse in the harder seasons Newt would coax them to grow strong again. When the deer and rabbits dropped in number Newt would shelter them in his forest until their numbers where great.

When sickness spread in the village he would walk door to door to ensure everyone was safe from illness. He never had to heal them like he did with Elizabeth’s son. He merely had to usher the illness away and encourage the human’s bodies to be strong enough to fight the sickness before it took root.

“Oh,” a woman paused, walking the village in the midnight hours. Her name was Jane and she had a husband and three children but also her parents too stubborn to move in with them. She stayed late to tend to her father who was beginning to return to the earth in his old age.

Newt watched her as she looked at him, staring at his bare feet with a touch of suspicion and under that, awe.

“Yes well, I can look almost perfectly human. But shoes, I never could stand them,” he admitted.

“I see.” The woman blinked again. “There is a sickness in the next village over, people are worried.”

In the town square, there were gifts piled high, sweets and hand grown flowers, bits of dried fruits and meats. Little drawings and carvings of animals, things Newt enjoyed. Over the centuries the people had learned what he favoured most.

“I know. It will pass by, no one is ill here,” he reassured her.

The young woman offered a strange smile, laughing to herself a bit.

“You’re so tired you’re dreaming,” she told herself with a shake of her head.

Newt watched as she dug into her apron and pulled out a small blob of wood, it was a rather fat looking mouse-like creature.

“My son made it, he wanted to offer it next festival. But he loses things easily so I promised to keep it for him, always in my pocket.” The woman offered it out on the palm of her hand.

“He said you would understand what it was.”

Newt stepped closer, staring at the child's rough carving. A mouse with a big thick tail, like a wolf. Newt smiled slowly, taking the carving delicately. A little boy that liked to talk to him, Jacob. He had a special tree just inside the forest line where he would sit and chatter at Newt about any and everything. He liked to make up animals by combining features. The mousewolf was his favoured creation. A wolf the size of a mouse but with round ears and a tiny wee howl.

“Yes, I know what it is. I do like the idea of it. My favourite is the catdog, a bit of both so it won’t chase either. I do like harmony like that.”

“Well then,” the woman smiled, seeming to think the moment was not real. Newt waved cheerfully at her as they parted ways.

"Good eve, Scamander," she smiled at him. It was their name for him now. His true name had long been lost in time.

He slipped the carving into his pocket. It lacked skill but it was warm to the touch, filled with a child’s earnest creativity.

When he passed the alter, more of a high bench than anything these days, which he preferred to anything to over the top, he took a few bits of bread and jam. The animals would eat the rest for him, mice, rabbits, cats, dogs, and sometimes deer. Newt smiled as he pressed a finger into the stone of the bench and drew a catdog. Not the best work he had ever done, but it was clearly the creature. It would do, he supposed with a smile.

The boy had delighted in it and his mother had wondered for all her days afterwards. The young boy had never not believed in him and he passed that along to his children.

The villagers met him from time to time, seeing him enough to know he was there. They kept their respect for the forest and so Newt honoured them by protecting their village. He chased out those with ill will and allowed only those with good intent to settle.

The seasons continued to come and go, more decades and then centuries. Newt was terrible about keeping track of it. But when most places stopped celebrating the old gods, the bowtruckles who travelled forests told him so, his village faithfully continued. Each season was marked with a great festival that filled the town square. A boundless cheer overtook the people and they would laugh all night long, dancing and singing over and over with endless energy.

Newt wasn’t fond of crowds, too many people closing in on him, but would always attend the celebrations. To remind himself of humanities best parts. He watched artists draw portraits of eager faces and carvers work away at little animals to give away freely to excited children. Poets and musicians creating new words and sounds that they shared. Children making up new dances while the adults performed the old ones and sang the songs from the very beginning. Elizabeth’s songs. They didn’t know what they sang, the origin was forgotten to time but the words survived and Newt smiled every time to hear them. The crowd alive in a midsummer celebrations, the square decorated with flowers and lanterns. Everyone laughing and dancing, music playing while food and drink was shared. Every member of the village gave something, offered freely to their neighbours what they could. From food to little drawings, even the children gave something. It was a point of pride and delight for them, to have a skill to give.

“Come sit,” an older man called him, motioning to his wood board with carvings on it in a pattern. He was a bit from the crowd, in a quiet spot.

“I’ll show you how to play, a game of the mind,” Newt nodded, settling a bit awkwardly in the chair and peering at the carvings curiously.

“They each have a meaning and a movement,” the man began and before long a group of men where gathered arguing the moves and the best tactics to win. They were loud and a bit suffocating but it was all in good fun and Newt found himself smiling until his face hurt.

“It’s a good game,” the old man grumbled at the end, the lesson long lost.

“You should leave it out then, on the altar. A move a day perhaps?” The old man stared at Newt for a beat and then smiled before a deep laugh bubbled up in his chest. He nodded his head and shook Newt’s hand. Touching always felt odd but Newt allowed it briefly, the old man was born and raised in his village, had lived his whole life here and had been a good sort. 

“Go, dance!” the man instructed and waved someone over, a young girl rushing to obey her grandpa. Ten or so, just the right age to be bold enough to take Newt’s hands and spin in him into the middle of a song.

For each festival, the humans had a tradition of being barefoot. So he could walk among them without being seen, blending in as he pleased. Newt laughed as bare feet moved in the soft dirt and people sang along with the musicians.

“It’s my favourite!” The child exclaimed when Elizabeth’s song began.

“It’s her song,” Newt told the girl.

“Who?”

“The first. The very first girl.”

“What did she do?” They spun in a circle, the steps long memorized by both of them.

“She made friends with the forest and won its favour. A young girl just like you. With a great bright heart.” Newt smiled as the girl blinked, staring up at him. There was always that moment when they realized. Newt made sure they did, that every single human in his village met him once and knew it.

A moment of seeing. To honour Elizabeth. Newt’s first human friend.

Her eyes went wide and a delighted surprise filled her features. She had always hoped he was real, but had begun to worry he might not be as she grew up. Meridith was her name, she spoke to him often when she walked in the forest. She always brought old bread to feed the birds and they rather adored her. Her heart was a good one.  

The girl’s friends ran up to her as the song ended, grabbing her hand and when she glanced at them, Newt slipped off. Meridith was certain of him now, and she would not forget the moment.

He smiled and nodded at people as he walked by. Everyone was open and friendly in case they ran into the forest god without knowing it. So Newt accepted baked pastries that were given out to all, drinks of wine, and delicate little carvings and drawings. He watched his humans delight in pure enjoyment. Their feet slapped the dirt and the connection to the earth hummed in contentment. Newt could feel the mother’s delight flowing through everyone. He could feel it in them as well, their worries and fears fading a bit. Their very beings pulsing with energy, with the mother's affection.

He walked down the quieter streets as the midnight hours came, the forest's edge coming into sight. Along the forest line was a park, filled with flowers and plants from all over the world. Settled at the edge of the forest. The altar, the one Elizabeth’s father had made was under the earth in this place. Long grown over with moss and flowers and forgotten by the village. 

Newt smiled at the spot, tipping his head as lovers giggled within the little park that became the forest. He watched unseen as young woman let a man slip a flower necklace over her head. Some things would never change he supposed. A bit further into the woods was a young pair of men, both magic born and indulging in adoring kisses. The village was mixed but there was no one who didn’t know of magic. Who didn’t have a family member with it, the village had begun with magic born after all. It made things a bit easier Newt found. Wizards and witches very accepting of skin colour and choice of mate. Newt had heard other villages were more closed-minded, of segregation and slavery. He watched the young men trade kisses a moment longer before he walked on.

He chewed his bottom lip and wondered what it felt like, to kiss and mate. Newt had never felt the urge to mate.

He wasn’t the sort to be born with a mate he supposed. It wasn’t a bad thing; many magical creatures were the same. But the last few centuries Newt found himself feeling a bit…yearning. His eyes drifted to the fields past the forest and he wondered what it would be like to have a mate. To have someone at his side. He thought of the first villagers and their countless generations, living on in their children in a sense. He supposed he envied that a bit. Life had become monotonous for Newt. His forest was strong and old, powerful enough to repel evil creatures on its own. The magical creatures that lived within had done so for many generations or centuries and they knew the rules and were very respectful. Even the humans were very well behaved. If someone acted up, vandalising the forest, they were punished severely. Serving time in the little locked room. Sometimes forced to leave the village. The human’s had a nice system down rather pat.

All in all, Newt suspected he might be growing lonely. It was a new feeling and he wondered why it had developed. He had his forest and the creatures and animals. He had his village. He was not alone.

But something new was happening, something new was calling in his chest.   His missed Elizabeth but knew better than to get too attached to a human. His heart still stung a bit when he thought of her and while he might be happy for a short time, humans were too short-lived for it to be worth carrying a second sting in his heart.

He wondered if all forests felt this way at some point.

A little bit from the Forest God AU! Working on the Animagus fic right now. As well as a little sequel for Lure.

[buckybarnesappreciationsociety]

Amazing Gracie Part 1

Summary: Expecting baby #2, Asha, Steve and Rebecca were elated. But their joy was short lived when Mrs. Rhonda Marie Taylor, Asha’s mom died.

Already in a delicate state, the stress from Mrs. Taylor’s death sends Asha spiralling into premature labor.

Warnings: Angst, death of a character, premature labor

Word Count: 1,012

Pairing: Steve Rogers x PoC Asha Rogers

OFC: Rhonda Taylor, Nat, Wanda, Dr. Cho, Bucky, Dr. Alvarez, Gracie Marie Rogers

A/N: The third installment in “Steve and Asha Rogers: Love Is Colorblind. Thanks for reading and enjoy!

Death. A five letter word no one cares to discuss. Just as sure as you’re born, when your time here on Earth is over, death will claim your soul.

Mrs. Rhonda Marie Taylor, wife, mother, grandmother went home to be with the Lord. She was having surgery to repair a blockage in one of her heart arteries and flatlined on the operating table. Asha was devastated. Mrs. Taylor was her rock. After Mr. Taylor passed, Asha and her mother formed an unshakeable bond. Steve simply adored her. Sometimes he would take Becca over to visit her ‘Nana’, sitting around talking about the “good ‘ol days.”

At 4 years old, Becca didn’t understand what was happening. Steve explained as best he could. “Daddy, what’s wrong with mommy? She’s so sad.” Sitting down next to his daughter, “Sweetie, Nana went to Heaven to be with grandpa and your mommy really loved and misses her.”

Asha, 7 months pregnant, threatened early delivery due to stress. Steve and Tony arranged Mrs.Taylor’s homegoing service so she could focus on her and the baby’s well being.

Sniffling, Becca gazed into her daddy’s eyes, “Can we go to Heaven and visit them?” She perked up only to be let down. “No sweetheart. We can’t go visit them but Nana will always be in  your heart, okay?”

Gently nodding ‘yes’, Becca picked up her Captain America bear and tip-toe into her parent’s bedroom. Pulling the thick white duvet back, Becca placed a soft kiss on her mommy’s cheek.

“Hey Peanut. What are you doing?” Sleep heavy in her voice. Becca tucked her bear in bed with Asha. “I thought you needed a hug ‘cause Nana went to be with grandpa.” Wiping tears from her eyes, Asha sat up in the bed, pulling her sweet cherub close.

“Thank you big girl. You made mommy so happy. Seeing your pretty face always helps.” Asha kissed her daughter’s forehead.

“It’s okay to be sad, Mommy. Daddy said Nana is happy now that she’s with grandpa. I wonder if they’re having a picnic in Heaven?” Asha’s lips formed a tight thin line.

“You know what? I’ll bet they are having a picnic and watching over you.” Asha bopped the tip of Becca’s nose.

“Really? Mommy, where’s Heaven?,” laying her head on Asha’s shoulder..

Asha explained as best she could. “I’ll tell you what Nana told me. She said Heaven is far above the clouds. So, every time you look up, Nana and grandpa see you and your little sister playing.”

Leaning over, Becca placed a kiss on her mommy’s growing baby bump. “Hi. This is big sister Becca. I love you.” Unshed tears rolled down Asha’s face under her chin.

Steve entered the bedroom. “Hey, what am I missing?” The bed dipped as he cradled his wife against his body. “Our wonderful daughter brought me Captain America bear to keep me company.”

Shaking her head, “Yep. Mommy is sad and I wanted to make her happy again.”

Unable to compose herself, Asha swung her feet onto the thick carpet, shuffled into the bathroom and wept.

“I’ll be back Peanut. Um, why don’cha go draw mommy a pretty picture.” “Ok daddy.”

Carefully opening the door, Steve crouched down in front of his distraught wife. “H-hey doll. C’mon now. Shhhh sweetie. I got’cha.” Asha rocked back and forth, trying to catch her breath.

“St-St-Stevie, I c-c-an’t…..” Steve phoned Dr. Cho. He also text Nat. She arrived before the paramedics to get Becca..

In a flash, Nat peered around the door and surprised her goddaughter. “Hi Auntie Nat. What are you doing here?” Becca exclaimed.

“Hey Becca. Would you like to get ice cream?” “Yay!!” Nat tried to shield her from the commotion in the corridor. “Auntie Nat, will mommy and my sister be alright?” Stooping to her level, Nat held Becca’s little hands, “Yes sweetheart. She will be fine and the baby too. Now, let’s go raid the fridge.”

Dr. Cho’s assistant plugged in a portable fetal monitor, as Steve gently laid Asha in the bed. Pressing the leads gently in place, baby Rogers’ faint heartbeat pulsed through the machine.

Not mincing words, “We need to get Asha to the hospital right away!”

The paramedics arrived and whisked Asha and Steve to Mount Sinai Hospital’s Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. Doctors and nurses frantically began hooking Asha up to fetal monitors, IV drips and oxygen.

EARLY ARRIVAL

Asha knew it was too soon for the baby. She was7 months, but the stress of her mother’s death took a huge toll and the doctor’s couldn’t stop labor.

Gracie Marie Rogers weighed 4 pounds, 3 ounces. In spite of her low birth weight, little Gracie squirmed and squealed.

Nurses immediately suctioned her nose removing mucus. Next an oxygen hood draped over her tiny head along with a C-PAP machine. Finally, two tiny IV lines were inserted into her tiny veins for nourishment and a heart monitor stuck to Gracie’s chest.

The sound of beeping and alarms startled her parents. Angrily wiping his eyes, Steve raised his voice to the nurse. “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON??!! DO SOMETHING! SAVE MY GRACIE.”

Hands shaking, Asha reached for her husband.. “St-Steve. It’s alright. They’re helping her love. Please come here….please babe.”

Apologizing, Steve turned his attention back to Asha. The orderlies were moving her to a private suite. The hardest thing was leaving Gracie in the NICU. Once Asha drifted off, Steve phoned Nat to give her the news and check on Becca.

PLEA FOR HELP

Once alone, the hysterical super soldier slumped in a chair, openly bawled and prayed. “Uh, I ain’t been in contact with ya in a long time and m’sorry. Gracie in there fighting for her life. Please watch over her for me. I love my girls so much; just wanna make sure they’re safe. Amen and thank you.”

@sparklemichele