#really funny though i bought a whole box of these things for like £3 four years ago & am still working my way through them these are in

[fluentisonus]

they keep making fun of me at work for using mechanical pencils I'll be sitting there minding my own business measuring something & they'll walk past & go 'using your posh pencil again I see'

[oddshelbyout]

Flowers & Chocolates // John Shelby X Fem!Reader

Summary: On Valentine’s Day, your neighbour John asks you to look after his kids for a few hours and comes back with a gift you had been waiting for.

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 2372

Author’s Note:

This is a modern au, my first one for Peaky Blinders. I wasn’t sure if I could write a modern fic for this well but I think this turned out to be pretty good. I had to give John’s kids names and it was really hard to decide, I hope they fit well.

This fic really made me get over my writer’s block. I wrote this in one sit and it just put my mood up so much. It’s really fluffy and exactly what I would want my Valentine’s Day to be like.

I hope you share Valentine’s Day with all of your loved ones and show them you appreciate their love. I also hope that this one shot makes you as happy as it made me while writing it. Enjoy <3

English is not my first language and I’m not always confident about my work so please let me know if I make any mistakes or anything I can fix in my writing.

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Requests are open. You can request any Peaky Blinders related imagines or prompts for me to write. I’m a minor so I don’t take NSFW requests, please keep that in mind.

———————

It was Valentine’s Day. You were single once again and your date for the night was a bottle of cheap red wine.

None of your relationships lasted more than 6 months and you had been spending every Valentine’s Day alone for 3 years. You were convinced the relationship chapter of your life was closed for now.

That morning started like another Sunday morning. You got up, took a shower, made yourself coffee and called it breakfast. You scrolled through Instagram and pretended not to see all the couple posts.

You were actually really glad to be single. You had full freedom, not that a relationship would take it all away but being independant entirely made you feel good. Also all of your past relationships felt one sided and you hadn’t met the right person yet.

This Valentine’s Day was a bit different than the others because you weren’t upset about being single. You were actually upset about not being in a relationship with a specific someone.

That someone was your upstairs neighbour in the small apartment complex you lived in. His name was John and he had four kids. Yes, four kids.

You might ask why that information was so important and the answer is simple. You and John met just because he had kids.

All of the flats besides yours and John’s were rented by university students, that left you as the only choice to babysit John’s kids. You were working independently, you were a graphic artist and you were always at home. That was exactly what John needed.

One summer afternoon, your door knocked. You weren’t expected guests, you barely had them anyway. John stood before you, looked at you with his gentle eyes.

“I have no one, can you watch my kids for an hour?” was the first thing he had said to you. You were also too busy trying to understand who he was and didn’t notice four youngers hiding behind him.

You couldn’t say no. You loved children, you had two younger brothers but they were back in your hometown when you had moved to London. John just left you with the kids and left.

John had two daughters and two sons. Katie, Jocelyn, William and David. Katie was the oldest but definitely wasn’t the most mature one. Jocelyn and William were twins but looked nothing alike though they sounded a lot like each other. David was the youngest and somehow the most mature one.

The oldest was nine and the youngest one was six at the time you met them. They were extremely calm and none of them were troublemakers. They had great interest in your work and asked a lot of questions but also never bothered you.

You loved spending time with them and babysitting them. It has become a routine for you. John would drop them at least a few times a week. It was summer and the kids didn’t go to school. They were with you almost everyday.

You spent so much time with his kids that one day you even joked about getting paid. John had a better offer though. He promised you that he and the kids would make or buy you dinner every weekend to pay you back.

John was a good cook, you had only had take out for one of those dinners once and that was because he was sick. You had become almost like a family.

John was originally from Birmingham, his accent gave it away anyway but he had moved to London with a quick decision after his wife passed away. He had left his brothers and aunt behind in Birmingham but promised them that they’ll be okay.

John had told you that moving to London was the best decision he had taken. It was a new beginning for him and the kids. He was an engineer and London had more opportunities.

Even though you worked from home and didn’t quite reach the goals you had coming to London but it was your best decision too. Best decision after dumping your toxic ex.

Luckily for both you and John, you had formed a great friendship. The kids adored you. John was forever thankful for taking care of them.

That was all going to start changing when schools started and you saw them less and less. You were starting to feel like you didn’t appreciate your time with them enough.

You also realised you had feelings for John. That hurt more when one morning as the kids and him leaving home told you that they were moving. They were going to move out of their flat to a bigger place.

Your heart broke. You knew you’d see them from time to time but you thought it would never be the same warmth you had as neighbours.

That little heartache made Valentine’s Day harder. You could’ve opened your heart out to John and his little family you were introduced to. You had even joined that little family. Shared everything and became so close that you felt like you joined their family

After your coffee and your usual morning Instagram scrolling, you opened your laptop. You had to finish one job before the deadline. Your doorbell rang while you were deep down in work.

You went to the door knowing it was John. You hoped he would be alone. He was not, he had brought the kids again. You were happy to see them but you had one last hope to spend Valentine’s Day with John.

“Sorry Y/N, can you look after them for a few hours?” John said looking at you with puppy eyes. It almost felt like he was apologising for something and it wasn’t for making you look after his children.

“Sure!” you had said, trying to hide the subtle pain in your chest. “I downloaded a new game!” David said, waving his iPad carefully. You smiled You looked back to John, your smile had faded but his was as strong as it was a moment before.

You were hurting because him dropping them off on Valentine's Day meant only one thing. He was going on a date. He didn’t have a partner that you knew of and knew he would tell you if he did. It hurt you so much

“Going on a date?” you asked not being able to hold your curiosity back. “Oh no, just an errand.” John said and you just nodded.

You tried to reply back with a smile but it looked more like you were trying to hide your pain. “Alright, get in kids.” you told the children and John nodded.

“Alright Shelby Clan, I’ll be back in an hour.” John said and that made you genuinely smile. You found it very funny that he called them Shelby Clan. You knew it was the nickname for the whole family but it was still funny hearing him call four kids a clan.

“Bye daddy!” Jocelyn said waving, then they all got in. They ran to the living room which was also your office. “Y/N, are you really working on Valentine’s Day?” Katie asked. You chuckled nervously.

“Well, I’m not dating anyone, so yes.” you admitted and the kids giggled. “What are you laughing at?” you joked and they giggled more. “Would you want to date?” William asked.

“I think I would, if there was a right person.” you said after sitting on your chair. The kids sat on the ground and rested their backs on the side of the couch. David climbed on the couch instead, told you he was more mature.

“Even I am dating someone.” Katie said and Jocelyn gasped. “Who’s the lucky fella?” you asked, raising your eyebrows. All of them kept giggling, “He’s in my class, he bought me a cookie on friday.” Katie said with a big smile.

Watching them giggle and talk to you enthusiastically made your mood go up. You were actually feeling much better thanks to the Shelby Clan.

You went back to work while they were entertaining themselves with the new game David downloaded. The other siblings joined David on the couch too, lşke they should’ve done earlier.

You weren’t close to finishing the work and you were getting stressed about it. Your back started hurting from sitting. Also your stomach growled, reminding you that coffee doesn’t count as a meal.

“Are y’all hungry?” you asked the kids, hoping they would say yes. “Nope.” they all answered at once but Katie had more to say. “Dad said they’ll be cooking for us when he gets back.” they all nodded to Katie’s work.

“I’m eating on my own then.” you mumbled and stood up. “No Y/N, daddy’s cooking for you too.” William said and you smiled for a moment.

Your mind went full on panic mode. You questioned why he would cook for you after he comes back from a date. Even though he had said it wasn’t a date, your conscience didn’t trust his words.

You sat back at your seat but you didn’t want to keep working. The kids seemed so into that game that you also didn’t want to interrupt their fun. You went back to scrolling through Instagram and accepting your loneliness.

Soon the doorbell came to the rescue. You didn’t notice how much time passed so you didn’t think it would be John. You still believed he was on a date.

You opened the door. Your gaze first focused on John’s big smile, you didn’t even notice what he was holding in his hands.

“I’m back.” he said quietly, he was so quiet that you knew for some reason that he didn’t want kids to hear. That was when your gaze fell down from his lips to his hands.

He was holding a box of chocolate and a bouquet of red roses. You gasped and then smiled so big. “You bought me flowers and chocolates.” you said after licking your lips.

“I thought it was the appropriate time to.” John said, you looked at him not getting exactly what he was trying to say. You were so clueless.

“Appropriate time for what?” you asked and he just laughed. He thought you were joking but you were asking seriously. The fact that the corner of your lips were still curled had tricked him.

“I thought you were smarter.” he joked instead of directly answering your question. “Shut up you wanker, tell me!” you laughed after. “Wanker huh? I’m never telling you.” he replied and laughed so hard that you were sure the kids had heard already.

“Come on John Boy!” you said reaching for his hand. “At least give me the chocolates, I’m hungry!” you complained. He pulled them away from you. You laughed at each other, you felt like you were a teenager again.

“No seriously tell me, appropriate time for what?” you asked again, this time with a more serious face. He took a deep breath. He held onto the flowers and chocolates stronger.

“I think this is the appropriate time to ask you out.” John said and you nervously chuckled. You were so happy to hear that your feelings were mutual. You were also angry at yourself for not believing him when he said he had a date.

You two just smiled at each other like idiots without saying anything. At that moment nothing was real, you felt like you were floating in space and your only connection to earth was John.

“You’re asking me out?” you asked just to be sure. “Mhmm.” John nodded, “Y/N Y/L/N would you like to go out with me?” he properly asked. You giggled like a little girl.

“Yes, I will.” you said and hugged him. The corners of the chocolate box hurt you but it was worth it. Your hug was interrupted by Katie.

“Did you ask her out Daddy?” the ten year old asked, he nodded. “He did and now I’m hoping he’s gonna cook us dinner.” you told Katie, you really were hungry like a wolf.

John stepped inside with you. He left the flowers and chocolates on the kitchen counter. He immediately started cooking, you of course were going to help him.

“I hope you’re moving too far away, like the other side of London.” you confessed, that was a concern for you even before his interest in you was official.

“No, just a block away so the kids don’t have to change schools.” John said as he was cutting tomatoes. “A bigger place?” you asked, you were trying to get your own mind to justify the reason they’re moving for.

“Yes and you’re always welcome, nothing changes.” John said, he turned to you and smiled big. You returned his smile with a bigger one. Your eyes stuck at his lips, they looked so full and red. So kissable.

“Nothing changes.” you repeated and took a deep breath. He stopped cutting the tomatoes. He licked his lips, “Maybe some things can change.” he said and kissed you.

What a kiss it was. You weren’t in the children’s sight. It was the best kiss you ever had. With his lips touching yours and his tongue slipping into your mouth, both of you lost contact to earth. You were both floating in space, you didn’t even need air. As long as you had each other, you didn’t even have to have contact to earth.

You kissed for so long. You kissed like it was your last moment alive. You kissed with so much passion and you thought the heartache waiting for him gave you was totally worth it. When you finally parted, the only reason was that you were out of breath and you had a meal to cook.

Your Valentine’s Day was the exact opposite of what you expected. Even though you wouldn’t call what you and John had a relationship yet, you still weren’t alone on Valentine’s Day.

You had John with you who finally told you he wanted to date you. You had Katie, Jocelyn, William and David. You had your little new family. Now you were sure that you had joined their family for real. You hoped you all would be happy for the rest of your lives.

[hermannsthumb]

I know you don't usually write PRU stuff, but if you ever feel inclined, here's a ficlet idea! so: Newt is trying to fight off the Precursors by constantly reminding himself that He Is Human. but whenever newt thinks about what makes him Feel Human, the answer is always hermann. so newt starts conjuring up vivid mental images of hermann (doing mundane, hermann-y things) to ward off the Precursors. bonus point if, like, newt fondly remembering smth innocuous (like the scent of Hermann's chalk dust?) is enough to actually sever the alien mind control.

Anonymous asked: Maria!!! Would you ever write an angsty post uprising prompt? Or even a pre uprising? Anything with Newt fucking around with Kaiju and being sad i am HERE FOR 👏

in honor of the sequel’s 3 year anniversary, let’s try something a little different 👀 THIS ONE GOT AWAY FROM ME RE: LENGTH....I'll leave it up to interpretation whether or not the bonus is wholly fulfilled.... also on proofing this I realized it might need content warnings? so vague refs to disordered eating and alcohol drinking (ie, newt’s body is inhabited by aliens who forget how human stuff works)

-----------

Honestly, Newt’s life has been kind of a shitshow lately. He’s too, like, high strung. Too many responsibilities. Not enough hours in the day to get that shit done. He’s even higher strung than he was during the war, which is nuts, because certain doom was lurking around every corner. Maybe that’s why it’s not that nuts, though. The war was chaotic—and Newt’s fueled (or, used to be fueled?) by chaos. The kaiju were unpredictable. The kaiju didn’t run on a 9-5 schedule. The kaiju didn’t expect Newt to have three new jaeger prototypes on their desk by noon on a fucking Saturday, which is usually the day Newt spends two hours in his expensive bath tub and drinks a nice bottle of wine, and definitely not a day he wants to spend giving himself a stress migraine and shouting at underlings to make themselves useful. On top of that, his usual cafe got his coffee order wrong—when Newt had to run in to get it, himself, on a Saturday morning—and it only had half the espresso shots he really needs for the day. No wonder he’s going grey at forty. Fucking nightmare. Stable employment is exactly the kind of chaos that’s bad for Newt—give him the kaiju any day, thanks.

“Dr. Geiszler?”

Newt pushes his sunglasses up, and scowls at whichever one of his employees has dared to interrupt his catnap. The fluorescent overheads are brutal on his poor eyes right now. The lab needs more natural lighting. Maybe if he complains, they’ll knock out some walls in put in a few more windows. “Did you find any Aspirin?” he says.

Wordlessly, Newt’s assistant passes him a bottle. Newt pops the cap off and takes at least four. The coffee he washes it down with is cold. “How are the last simulations coming along?” he says, flicking his sunglasses back down. He seems to have so many migraines these days. It’s the contact lenses, he thinks—making the switch over from frames so late in the game. Screwing with his perceptions. Newt went thirty years with frames, after all. “We only have two hours before—”

“We’re almost done,” his assistant cuts in. “We’re working as fast as we can, Dr. Geiszler.”

“But are we gonna make the deadline?” Newt says.

She fidgets, and moves her clipboard to her other arm. “Well—we’ve had some—issues.”

Newt stands up with a long sigh. Double overtime, probably. Sunday lost to this shit too. That new bottle of wine waiting for him on his kitchen counter bought for nothing. “Gotta do everything myself, huh? Unbelievable.”

He follows his assistant over to the main lab down the hall, where his team of j-techs are hurrying around. Hardly anyone in proper lab attire—no labcoats—someone in sweatpants—Newt wasn’t the only one who had his Saturday ruined, probably. No one else is going grey, though. “What’s this shit?” he says, stopping in his tracks with one foot through the doorway. The high-tech holo-smartboards have been pushed aside, and instead, someone’s wheeled in a huge…chalkboard.

“Technical issues,” his assistant says. “The other floors are having the same problem—something in the new interface update that downloaded last night, we think. They’re all out of commission. Technology is working on it, but for now, we had to pull that out of deep storage.”

Two of his scientists are scrawling across the board quickly—one with white chalk, the other with pink. They’re debating something in hushed tones. Newt hasn’t seen a chalkboard in years. It doesn’t fit with Shao Industry’s whole chic, sleek, futuristic aesthetic. So—bulky. And messy. “Of course it would happen today of all days,” Newt sighs. The sight of it makes him feel odd, and he can’t seem to drag himself any further into the lab and any closer towards it.

His assistant says something. Newt doesn’t hear—he’s listening, instead, to the squeaking of chalk across the blackboard. So noisy and obnoxious. It reminds him of years and years ago, of working in a grimy little basement, of…

“—look it over. Dr. Geiszler?”

“Hm?” Newt says. It was like a layer of fog had begun to lift from his thoughts, but the interruption sends it rolling right back in.

“I said we’re ready for you to look it over. Only if you want too, of course,” she adds, nervously.

“Uh-huh,” Newt says.

Newt’s never had anyone fear him before, not like his employees seem to fear him—he’s not sure he likes it. His scientists shut up the second he looms over (well—under, Newt’s never loomed over anyone in his life) their shoulders to inspect their work so far. The squeaking stops. One of them lowers their piece of chalk. “Wait,” Newt says, too-loudly, surprising them and himself. They both look at him with the same nervousness as his assistant, like he’s about to start shouting or something. “Keep doing that.”

“Keep…?”

“Writing,” Newt says. “On the chalkboard.”

The scientist frowns at him. “Um, okay,” she says. “What am I supposed to write?”

“Anything,” Newt says. “Seriously. Anything.”

She hesitates.

“Anything,” Newt repeats.

She picks up the white chalk, and writes out her name, then doodles a few random pictures—a DNA helix, a flower, a cat face, a star. Newt shuts his eyes, and breathes in deeply. That smell. He snags the forgotten piece of pink chalk from the ledge. “Can I have this?” he says. He doesn’t wait for them to respond—though they both nod yes frantically, and bewilderedly—before writing out his own name on the board. Dr. Geiszler. It looks wrong, so he writes Newt beneath it. He shuts his eyes, and writes Newt again. Why does he feel like he’s done this sort of thing before? This thing is ancient—before his time at Shao—he wouldn’t have used it before they carted off to the basement. Newt, Newt, Newt Was Here,he writes, Newt +, and then he stops.

He opens his eyes. “Who’s Hermann?” his assistant says.

Newt + Hermann. Newt didn’t realize he wrote it. “Someone I knew,” he says, faintly. “Years ago. He was my—” He swallows. He feels strange. “My colleague?”

Strange. Dizzy. The Aspirin isn’t working. Definitely the contact lenses. He could afford laser eye surgery now, if he wanted, maybe he should look into it. He grips the ledge of the chalkboard, swaying, and grits his teeth; his two scientists back away from him slowly, no doubt worried he’s about to hurl all over their shoes. He might, to be honest. Newt + Hermann. Hermann was his colleague. Hermann was his— “Are you feeling okay, Dr. Geiszler?” his assistant asks. “You look…”

“Tell Shao I’m taking the rest of the day off,” Newt says.

“What?”

“You guys got this shit handled without me,” Newt says. He pockets the chalk. “I’m not—I’m not feeling myself. I think I need to go home and lie down. Seriously, you’ve got it under control—all these numbers look, uh, good, I trust you. If you guys don’t get it finished you can just tell Shao it’s my fault, okay?”

She gapes at him. “Uh,” she says. “Okay?”

Newt doesn’t go home. He goes to the nearest shop he can find instead, and makes a beeline for the art supplies aisle. Only a few boxes of chalk in stock. Four multicolored, two all-white, one yellow. He drops them all into his basket but the yellow, which he rips opens and immediately smells. Newt + Hermann. Hermann always smelled like chalk dust—he always had a fine layer of it on his clothing, patches of it on his blazer, his sweatervest, even on his undershirt. Newt used to tease him for that. He closes his eyes, and breathes in again. Funny—all those baths, all those bottles of wine, and this stupid little box of chalk is what’s finally making him feel calm for once. Quieting down his brain. He didn’t realize how loud it’d gotten in there. When Hermann would kiss Newt, he would sometimes stain Newt’s clothing with chalk, too, and Newt would pretend to be annoyed, but he never really was.

Someone is speaking to him. An employee. They’re staring at him, a cautious distance away, and Newt’s not sure what they’re saying.

His vision’s gone blurry—he didn’t realize he’d started crying, either. He wipes his eyes on the cuff of his blazer and sniffles. “Sorry,” he says. The box of yellow chalk is wet. “Um. Do you have any more of these in the back?”

He takes the bus home for the first time in years, one hand stuffed in his little brown shopping bag the whole time, wrapped around a box of chalk. When he gets back to his apartment (his big, lonely, apartment), he pulls out the only food in his fridge—some leftovers from a Shao Industries event three nights ago—and settles down on his big, lonely couch. He can’t stop thinking about Hermann. Five or so years, maybe more, not thinking about Hermann, and now suddenly—it’s like the floodgates have opened. He thinks about Hermann’s haircut. (Bad.) He thinks about Hermann’s smile. (Silly, and sweet.) He thinks about Hermann’s dumb accent, and the clack of Hermann’s cane on the floor, and Hermann’s chalk squeaking over his chalkboard, and how it felt when Hermann would wrap him in his arms and kiss him and whisper things to him. Hermann’s sweaters always smelled like mothballs and stale cigarette smoke. Terrible combination.

Newt’s stomach growls. He’s finished the small bit of leftovers without realizing, and is apparently still hungry. He would kill for some sushi takeout right now. Or pizza, God. Yeah, it’d be screwing with his new diet and fitness plan—he casts a guilty glance over at his brand new exercise bike, which is gathering dust in the corner by his TV—but he’s tired of doing stupid kale and juice cleanses or whatever, just to please—well. He’s only human.

He is?

He walks up the stairs to his bathroom, and stares at himself in the mirror. Stupid vest. Stupid tie. Neat hair, clean-shaven cheeks, contact lenses. Newt’s only human. “I’m human,” he tells his reflection. Is he human? He felt human standing by that old chalkboard back in the lab, and holding that box of yellow chalk in the aisle of that little shop. He felt human when he was remembering things. Because of—Newt blinks at himself. Because of whom?

“Hermann,” he says, and smiles at the way the name makes him feel. He should text him, maybe.

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

“I must say,” Hermann says, “I was quite surprised when I received your dinner invitation. You’ve done a rather fine job of ignoring my calls as of late. I’d thought— Ah, thank you,” he adds, as Newt holds the door open for him. He steps into Newt’s apartment and cranes his neck around, squinting curiously, and then shoves a bottle of red wine at Newt’s chest. Hermann is much more personable than Newt remembers—what little Newt remembers—and he wonders if it’s age or something else. “I’ve been holding onto this one for a while. It’s the one you gave me as a part of a gift for my thirty-seventh birthday—you remember? Oh, but isn’t it so terrifically, er, modern in here.”

“Is it?” Newt says. He’s never given much thought to his apartment before, but he stares around at it now in mild interest. It is very chic, isn’t it? Monochrome. Impersonal. Not something Newt would’ve picked for himself. “Yeah, I had some interior decorators come in and do it for me.”

Hermann arches an eyebrow. “How…”

“Modern,” Newt offers. He puts the bottle of wine on his marble kitchen island. “Thanks for this, by the way, but I’ve actually been trying to cut back on the—” He bites back drinking. No need to alarm Hermann. “—Calories, so if it’s cool with you I’d rather not open it. I’m doing a, um, a new fitness program.”

“Ah,” Hermann says. “I suppose that explains that, then, doesn’t it?” He points at the dusty exercise bike. Newt watches his gaze move from that, to the barren leather couch, to the short staircase which leads to Newt’s shut bedroom door. Newt can practically see the gears working in his head. “Will—ah, what was their name, that little flight of fancy of yours—a dalliance, one might say—will they be, ah, joining the two of us?” He looks at Newt out of the corner of his eye. “Alice, was it?”

“Who?” Newt says, blankly.

Hermann breaks out in a broad grin, which he quickly tries, very badly, to turn into a sympathetic frown. He pats Newt’s arm. “There’s the spirit, then, Newton! All in the past, I presume? Hardly any use in dwelling on a broken heart. Then again—it’s not as if you were together long enough to warrant those sorts of dramatics, were you?” he says, cheerily. “What I mean is—certainly it wasn’t as if you had any sort of deep or emotional connection with—?—oh, I’ve forgotten the name again.”

“Uh,” Newt says. He’s not really sure who Hermann’s talking about, but just based on that fact alone, he would assume Hermann is right. “I guess not?”

“Precisely as I expected,” Hermann says, with a satisfied nod. “Rotten grounds for a relati—for a fling. You deserve far better, Newton.” Hermann touches Newt’s arm again, and this time, he doesn’t move his hand. It makes Newt’s skin prickle pleasantly. “You look well these days, though I admit it’s a bit of a shock to see you without your glasses,” Hermann continues, flicking his eyes up and down Newt twice. He lingers on Newt’s left hand, over the bare spot where—until this morning, when he suddenly realized how stupid it looked and yanked it off—he was wearing that Elvis ring. “Ending things must be treating you kindly. I don’t suppose I could dash to your loo?”

“Loo?” Newt says. “Oh, right. Yeah, it’s that door there, right off the living room.” He drops down onto the leather couch. “Knock yourself out. I’ll be right here.”

Hermann disappears into Newt’s bathroom, and comes back out three minutes later with combed hair, a straightened collar, and the vague smell of cologne. He’s tucking a small bottle into his top pocket. “I found a box of hair dye in your medicine cabinet,” he declares, smugly. “I knew there was no bloody way that was natural. Though I’m not surprised it fooled Alice.” He rests his cane against the glass coffee table and sits down next to Newt. Right next to Newt. The whole sofa to pick from, and he’d rather their thighs touch. Newt doesn’t mind—actually, the contact is strangely grounding, like Hermann’s hand on his arm had been earlier. He’s here, in his living room, with Hermann, his friend Hermann, his colleague Hermann, his—well, question mark—Hermann.

“Hermann, can I ask you something?” he says. “Something important?”

“By all means,” Hermann says, leaning in and fluttering his eyelashes. Even over the cologne, Newt can still make out that mothball-chalk-smoke smell.

“Do you take your coffee with sugar?” he says.

Hermann laughs. “Do I—what?”

Newt repeats the question. The smile slips off Hermann’s face, and he draws away, furrowing his eyebrows. “Well,” he says, “yes, usually, only I’m not sure what—”

“Sugar, and some milk,” Newt says. “It was the same with your tea. And you had a mug that you would use—you wouldn’t use any other. It was blue, and it said—” He exhales through his nose. “It said TU Berlin. That’s where you got your PhD.”

After Newt sent Hermann a text about dinner last night, he sat down with a pen and pad of paper and made a list of everything he could remember about Hermann. He started with what Hermann looks like, and who Hermann is, and then moved into the harder stuff like what Hermann likes and the sort of things Hermann used to do. He stayed up all night doing it, until his hand cramped and his head hurt even more than it had that morning, and then recited it over and over to himself in a whisper as he fell asleep. Hermann has brown eyes. Hermann likes blackberry jam on his toast. Hermann wears little glasses on a chain. Hermann uses a cane with a tiny little nick in the brass of the handle. The list is in his pocket now; it makes Newt feel calm, and even calmer when he reaches into his pocket and touches it. He exhales again, hard, and then inhales. “We were together,” he says. “When we closed the Breach, you told me you loved me.”

“I did,” Hermann says, quietly.

“I said it back,” Newt says.

Hermann nods.

Slowly, Newt reaches out and puts his hand over Hermann’s. Hermann makes a strange noise in the back of his throat—like a sigh, or maybe a groan. His pulse twitches erratically under Newt’s fingertips. “I bought chalk,” Newt says.

“You—” Hermann echoes, his voice choked. “You bought chalk?”

“It reminded me of you,” Newt says.

He’s not surprised when Hermann kisses him, but he is surprised at his knee-jerk reaction: to pull away, or push Hermann away, and to order him to get out of his apartment. He’s surprised, because those aren’t his thoughts. He doesn’t want Hermann to leave—he wants Hermann to stay longer, and kiss him more, and help him remember more. “Oh, Newton,” Hermann says. “Newton, Newton—” He moves his mouth to Newt’s neck, kissing, breathing, and whispering his name, and Newt shuts his eyes and forces himself to remember his list.

“Tell me things about you,” Newt begs. “I want to remember you.”

Hermann’s laughter, hesitant and confused, comes out in a puff of hot air against his skin. “Remember me?” he says. “I’m not sure�� Are we not a bit—?”

“Hermann,” Newt says.

He grips the back of Hermann’s sweater, digging his nails in Hermann’s skin through the layers of fabric. Hermann must hear the urgency in his voice, because he shakes his head with another laugh, kisses Newt’s jaw, and says, “Well, alright. What am I even meant to tell you?”

“Your favorite color,” Newt says. Hermann kisses his chin. “Your favorite song. No, wait—” He nudges Hermann away from him, just enough so that Hermann can see him smile. “Tell me what you like about me.”

“Feeling rather egotistical tonight, aren’t we?” Hermann teases. He reaches out and brushes his fingers through the side of Newt’s hair. One of the spots Newt dyed—it was too grey. He catches Hermann’s hand by the wrist and pulls it away gently, but only to press himself up against Hermann’s chest instead. He can feel Hermann’s heartbeat. “I like—hm,” Hermann says. “I like your stubbornness. I like your passion. I like…”

His voice vibrates in his throat—Newt can feel that, too. He listens.

[fishpuncher]

Reviewing Resident Evil games I’ve played for fun

I bought the Resident Evil 2 remake in April of last year and since then I’ve become a fan of the franchise, so I figured I’d do a little review of all the RE games I’ve played listed in sort of release order (remakes taking place of originals)

Resident Evil 1 Remake (2003)

The third RE game I played after the 2 remake and 7, so my introduction to the older games/originals. Honestly a lot of fun, it took me a while to get used to the fixed cameras and the controls (I used the updated alternate controls, not tank) and I never really mastered it but the game is super good. Great puzzles, great atmosphere, and it still looks pretty great 18 years later. The story is also good and isn’t particularly convoluted like some of the later games get lmao

Resident Evil 2 Remake (2019)

The first RE game I played, and what got me hooked on the franchise. I never played the original so I have nothing to compare it to, but this game is almost perfect imo. The puzzles are good, the environments are amazing, and the characters are likable. Mr. X is terrifying (at least in my first playthrough, he’s a lot less scary in subsequent playthroughs) and his chase music is phenomenal. Overall I can’t recommend this game enough.

Resident Evil 3 Remake (2020)

Pretty much everything I said about 2 is applicable to this one as well. Jill and Carlos are great characters and I only wish we got more of them. I know people say that the remake is way shorter and cut-down than the original, but I haven’t played it so I don’t have that frame of reference. As a standalone game, it’s extremely good and the final boss fight is extremely badass.

Resident Evil - Code: Veronica X (2000)

My introduction to tank controls. The game is extremely good, and I’m enjoying it immensely. It can be quite punishing if you forget certain items or don’t conserve your ammo, as I’ve read about players getting to the final boss and having to restart the game because they didn’t bring an item that the game doesn’t even tell you to bring. Luckily I’m an item hoarder in these games, as I’d already grabbed the item before I couldn’t go back for it. The puzzles are good as always, if not confusing as I’m forgetful and have to look up where new items go as I don’t want to spend an hour searching every wall in the game. My main complaint is the sniper battle halfway through the game, as the hitbox for it just seems random more than anything. I love that we get more of Chris too. His casual “Hey” after being thrown by an explosion just kills me. Steve is whiny though and kind of the worst.

Resident Evil 0 (2002)

Pretty okay game, but one that I can’t really recommend. The partner system was pretty good, and made for some amazing puzzles/gameplay at times (getting split up at the beginning and then getting split up in a castle-ish area later). I thought both of those were great uses of the partner switching and more than justify it. However, the reason I can’t recommend this game is almost entirely due to the way you’re supposed to handle items. I play the RE games like a hoarder, every single item goes in the chest. Except this game doesn’t have a chest. You have two inventories with only six or eight (I don’t remember) slots each, and no item boxes. Instead, you can drop items on the ground and pick them up again later. For a hoarder like me, that means a whole lot of backtracking when you advance to the next area. Another annoying thing was the final two boss fights, as they were confusing for my simple brain since one of them is legit just shooting them until they die, but there’s never any indication that you’re affecting it, so I’m running around the room looking for something else that will kill him. In the final fight, it’s the same thing, except the game makes a point of showing you certain parts of the room that are obviously interactable, so I immediately run to those. Only those aren’t used until the second phase of the fight. I like Rebecca and Billy though, and hope that they’ll return at some point.

Resident Evil 4 (2005)

Very fun game, the over the shoulder is a welcome respite from the fixed cameras of 1 and 0, even if it is still tank controls. Leon is very quippy and I’m not a huge fan of his constantly hitting on the woman on the radio, but he’s an entertaining protagonist for sure. Escorting Ashley through most of the game isn’t that bad, as you can have her hide sometimes, or she’s pretty decent at taking care of herself (though I definitely accidentally killed her a few times oops). I thought Ashley was like 15 for the entire game so her asking Leon if he wanted to fuck at the end of the game absolutely floored me (though I’m still not a fan of that unnecessary comment honestly). My main complaint is that I was playing the Steam version at 60fps, but QTEs just do not work at that framerate, so I had to lower it to 30fps just to get through certain parts of the game (I did that minecart section like five times). Overall a great game, though I wouldn’t say it’s the best in the series, as many do.

Resident Evil 5 (2009)

People say this one is bad, but it’s such a blast playing co-op with a friend. I didn’t have to deal with the AI partner, so I can’t talk about that, but this is such a good co-op game. Getting to a spot where you both need to interact with it and mashing the button so Chris yells “SHEVA SHEVA HURRY COME ON HURRY SHEVA” over and over is always funny and always annoying when you’re on the receiving end. I still don’t really get the story and how Umbrella and BSAA are related or anything, but the gameplay is super fun, I highly recommend this one if you’ve got someone to play with. Although, we did have to install some files in order to play online co-op, but it’s a pretty simple process.

Resident Evil: Revelations (2012)

This one is rough, as I got halfway through it before I got bored and quit. The game introduces Raymond as a bad guy pointing his gun at you, then there’s a flashback and his backstory is “guy silently standing in corner of room.” Back in present day, five minutes after being introduced as a bad guy, he’s helping you out. Jessica isn’t that bad but her character design is incredibly awful. The first minor thing is when she’s on a mission with Chris in snowy mountains and she’s wearing pounds of makeup. Then later they have her in a wetsuit but some hair is outside of it??? I guess so you know she’s a sexy woman. Plus her wetsuit is literally missing a leg. It leaves her left leg completely bare. The dialogue regarding her is sexist too. Overall, the gameplay is very meh and the plot is kind of dumb, even for RE.

Resident Evil 7: Biohazard (2017)

My second RE game to play, but probably the first one I watched. This game is amazing and I highly recommend it. The first person makes the setting much scarier, and it lets you relate to Ethan and immerse yourself more. I like that Ethan is just Some Guy with no training, he just walks his way through this whole mess like a champ. The boss fights are great and the characters are so memorable. Not to mention the DLCs for the game are wonderful: playing a fucked up version of 21 and then fighting goop monsters hand to hand are seriously fun.

Resident Evil Village (2021)

The most recent RE game and quite possibly the best. Village combines the first person perspective of 7 and the inventory system of 4, making an incredible game. The four lords all have such different environments and it makes for such good variety. My favorite one was the Silent Hill-esque house with the dolls, as scary as it was. The Duke is a fun character and I love that he’s part of the story. Chris’s section at the end turns the game into Call of Duty but it’s a fun massacre through the village, easily destroying enemies that have troubled you all game. Overall one of my favorite RE games.

[missed-connections-of-fear]

on avatarhood post-fearpocalypse

Not sure how to write this one down. When I haven't been actively putting it off, I've been starting and deleting this for the past hour or so. I think a place of honesty is the best way I can carry forward. So, uh, four things:

1. This isn't really much of a lost connection. Sorry.

There are some people I encountered that I do, genuinely, want to see and/or hear from again. There are others that, while I don't want to see again, I am morbidly curious to see where they ended up. The only problem is that, well, in some ways I did lose connection! Internet connection. Voluntarily.

After the apocalypse, I just didn't touch the internet for months. It was annoying as hell, but I absolutely had to. For the first month after I got home, I kept most of my electronics in a box. Stayed as far away from social media as possible, and am still trying to. This is because--

2. My domain was... weird.

As in: my domain was my phone. I think.

No, I wasn't (physically) trapped inside of it, or attached to it in a dependent way. Well, I guess in some ways I was trapped in there, right? When I realized that my phone was... I don't know, malevolent? Influencing me? Influencing others? When I realized that, I tried to break it or throw it away a few times, but it'd remain in tact, or just come back like the world's weirdest boomerang.

But even during the apocalypse, it was just a normal phone (aside from not running out of battery). It was my only degree of normalcy, so I started to make diary vlogs. I thought it was really funny how TikTok was still operational, so I decided to post some there for kicks just to see what other people thought. Hell, I just wanted to know if there were other people still out there.

I didn't want to think about the implications. I still don't. Call me a coward if you'd like: I certainly do.

3. I need to find someone else like me.

The main reason I'm writing this here, now, is that I want to know I wasn't the only one who had a domain like this. I hadn't realized how literal some domains were until everyone else in my life started to talk about it, and for--er, reasons--I wanted to keep my mouth shut just in case whatever I said gave someone the wrong idea.

I really need to hear that I'm not the only one whose domain wasn't a place. I really want to hear that there's someone else out there who--I don't know, wasn't confined to a location but was still afraid. Apparently there were some people who just can't feel afraid and weren't affected, and there was this whole thing about Melanie King "severing a connection" or whatever, but... I was neither of those things.

I've always been a little emotionally detached, but that didn't mean I wasn't fucking terrified, y'know? I could see the Change from my apartment window and I thought my family's mental illnesses were finally catching up to me. There are so many things I thoughtlessly recorded that I ended up deleting once everything stopped. I don't even know why I thought it'd be a good idea to keep those, even if it was just to reaffirm to myself that it was, in fact, happening.

Recently I bought a new phone. The dread remains all the same whenever I look it.

4. I think I was an Avatar.

I tried to delay the inevitable as long as I could, but that was probably, deeply, unfair. And this is starting to get away from me very fast, so I think I need to get to the point, like, now.

I don't want to get too deeply into it--"it" being all the warning signs and personal trauma and whatever the fuck entails "becoming an Avatar." I might have even been an Avatar even before the Change; I genuinely don't know, but it doesn't matter much to me anymore.

(My personal opinion is that, in the apocalypse--and if evidence suggests, before it--there was a spectrum with two ends when it came to the entities: the fearful and the feared. One ate, one was eaten, and your point on that spectrum could be shifted at any time. Any time.)

That aside, I genuinely don't know what entity I "served" or whatever. It was part coping and part survival the entire way through for me. Beholding seems like the obvious choice, since I was recording and talking to people, but... I embodied a lot of other things too. I think if I explain it, it'll make more sense:

Sometime into making my vlogs, I started running into other people. They'd always be a little bewildered to see me, but whatever torture they were enduring or inflicting would just... come to a halt. In the beginning, I didn't even realize that the people were going through hell: I was just so relieved to see someone that I'd call out to them, ask them how they were doing, sit with them and just relish the company of a human being for awhile. I didn't even realize the camera was recording some of the time.

And those first few times, I'd practically beg the person (or people) to come with me. They always accepted, even though I was simultaneously super clingy and closed-off. They always put up with me and my stupid phone. But they were never able to stick around.

By the time I stopped remembering faces, I stopped asking.

I had resolved to find somebody important to me in the very beginning, so I was always travelling. But I never stopped trying to talk to anyone I found. I'd always say some shit like, "Care to introduce yourself to the viewers?" and, "So tell us what traumas are going into your cringe compilation," and other influencer lingo just to lighten the mood, but some things--referring to the "viewers" and speaking about myself in the plural--became reflex.

And our conversations always came with the expectation of speaking of some sort of trauma. A tiny part of me always looked forward to it: I always tried to remind myself that people wanted to talk about themselves, their problems, and to be able to talk; that I was just one of many people in a bad situation and that I shouldn't prioritize my own suffering.

But I think... well, if I describe it, there's no damn way I won't be called a sociopath by someone. So just assume that I uncomplicatedly enjoyed their pain and pat yourself on the back for being able to believe you're still morally upright after all this time.

Sorry. It's just... I've been thinking about how people might respond a lot. I've curated a lot of this just to make sure no one tries to witch-hunt me while still trying to keep my story believable.

I think that's a sign to stop digging my own grave.

Apologies for how long it got in the end there, haha. I'm trying to... not really put this all behind me, I don't think any of us can. I've accepted what had become of me--or, well, I'm in the process of it--thus why I'm back on the internet in the first place.

I haven't gotten rid of the old phone yet, because... I've been thinking about uploading some of the videos I've recorded. From the Fearpocalypse. I desperately want to delete all of it, to keep it out of reach (my reach, particularly), but I... I think it needs to be archived somewhere. Anywhere.

You’re not an advice column, but since I’ve already gotten this far… well, I shouldn’t ask more than that. If I upload those videos, and you recognize me or yourself, feel free to reach out. I live in East Texas, but I somehow stumbled across some domains in Britain, Egypt, Japan, the Philippines, etc… (I didn’t learn about the Entities until the late leg of the apocalypse, so I was just trying to find domains that seemed to connect to the fears of the person I was looking for. Lots of Lonely, Slaughter, and End domains.)

(ROSE’S NOTES: damn another long post, I don’t know what to say. I uh. I hope you can find comfort in the internet again. I personally don’t know what i’d do if I had that domain. The internet is a safe place for me and has been for nearly a decade. Damn. Rose getting into stuff she should talk to a therapist about huh? Anyways. I guess to make a post that’s already long longer, I hope this post has made you feel better. I hope you find someone to talk with who understands what you went through. Take care my friend)

[iamdunn]

 Miraculous Flash Forward part 9: A New Dynamic

A Miraculous Fan-Fic

Written by

AJ Dunn

Adrien couldn’t wait to get back home and start making preparations. The trip to Paris hadn’t gone as badly as he was afraid it would. In fact, maybe he and Marinette could put their past behind them finally and start a life together. He had agreed to stay for the wedding since Marinette had gone through the trouble of making his Tux for him, and Nino wouldn’t have let him leave, he would have released Alya on him and that was frightening enough considering she had Trixx to back her up. Plus, Luka had Sass and he really didn’t need that kind of drama in his life. Honestly, he was happy he went. Even Nino saved a place for him after 5 years, in this case, the place of best man. 

“I will.” She had said. The memory of her words played in his mind as they swayed around the dance floor. She had agreed to be his roommate in Shanghai. She swore she didn’t want him to leave her and that she truly did love him. Plus, losing her roommate meant she was looking for a new one. He was certain though that his studio condo wasn’t going to be sufficient for them. She would need her own room and considering how flustered he made her, he would need a private room so she didn’t lose herself whenever he walked around without a shirt on. 

“Yeah, no more hanging out in the seating area in nothing but a towel,” Plagg said to him as they prepared to leave for the airport. 

“Who knows, I might occasionally forget and well…”

“You’ll be quickly reminded when she walks through the walls to get away from you.” Plagg laughed. Adrien laughed too imagining her overdramatic reactions. Adrien’s phone rang. 

“Are you sure about this Adrien?” Felix said. He had told his cousin he would need to upgrade his suite and asked for him to get him in touch with the management company. 

“Absolutely,” Adrien smiled. “I wouldn’t want her getting a cheap apartment, that neighborhood is bad news, besides, she still doesn’t speak Mandarin and I can’t have her getting lost here again can I? OH, and I am going to tell her about us.” His words came out so quickly he hoped his cousin would agree and not snap at him. 

“Do you trust her that much?” Felix sounded shocked. “Having her move in with you is one thing, but this affects us both.” 

“Yes, I do. Besides, if this is going to work, her and I can’t have secrets between us.” 

“It’s a shame she didn’t have a twin sister.” Felix scoffed. 

“What?” Adrien teased. 

“Nothing, never mind… shut up.” Felix snorted. “I’ll send them a message to call you.” He hung up. 

The flight back was a sleepless one as Adrien reeled over the idea that Marinette was coming to live with him. This will change everything. He tried to sleep but, listening to music, even tried doing some reading. Sleep didn’t come until he was back home in his own bed. He wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep when his phone rang.

“Mr. Graham De Vanily?” the voice came over. “Ah, Mr. Graham De Vanily called and said you wanted to renegotiate your lease.” Adrien refrained from laughing. 

“Adrien please.” he laughed, “And my cousin, he’s just Felix.” It is still funny when people see them together, and they have the same last name, but then call each other cousins. A thing that had always been fun. “Yes, I want a larger unit.” 

“I’m afraid the only unit we have available larger than the one you are in, is our 3 bedroom two bath unit at the opposite end of your floor.” 

“That’s perfect.” He refrained from using his cattish terminology with such a business call. Although the excitement in him wanted to so badly. 

“Fine, I shall send the paperwork over immediately, I assume you want to make the transition before the end of the month? As that is when your lease is due to renew.” 

“Yes of course.” 

“Please get the paperwork back to us promptly.” A ding came through his phone the second he hung up. It was an email from the property management containing the digital documents that he needed to Esign and return. He made haste to finish the paperwork before heading out to see Cheng Sifu and check on the temple. The sky was clear as Adrien made his way home from Cheng Sifu’s restaurant with a sack of leftovers and a few grocery items he had bought on the way. By grocery items that meant cheese for Plagg. While Camembert wasn’t available here, Manchego had become his replacement. 

They leaped from rooftop to rooftop not worried about remaining unseen as he had before the reunion. It felt freeing to just be himself and not hide anymore. His students already called him Laoshi Mao, though they didn’t know why it wasn’t Laushi Adrien. Well, Mao sounded a lot better. He slipped through the balcony door and wondered what their new apartment would look like. He was sure all of the units on this floor had a balcony. His phone ran just as he entered the apartment and before he transformed. It was a video call. 

“Hello M’Lady,” he answered in his most cattish tone. She giggled then began swatting away at some unseen thing, most likely the Kwami’s. 

“They’re all excited to be moving and they have been trying to pack for me.” She giggled again. 

“Well, I am Pawsitively feeling clawssome about it too, M'Lady.” 

“You dork.” She laughed. “Detransform and feed Plagg.” She said playfully. 

“As you wish.” he let his transformation go as Plagg darted into the bag and began tearing at the plastic wrapper. “Hold on, this guy… “ he set the phone down and tried to wrestle the package from the nearly rabid creature. “Hold on, let me open the package at least, you’re going to kill yourself.” Marinette laughed at the ordeal. It was certainly going to be interesting having so many Kwami’s around. 

Adrien reached over, picking up the phone again as Plagg stole away the now open package. “You’d think I starve him.”

“So, how was your day?” she said in a melodic tune. 

“It would have been better if you were already here.” He said holding up a clear plastic container containing remnants of the Crab stew which had become one of his favorite dishes. The container had Cheng’s restaurant label on it.

“Did you tell him?” Her face went into a look of concern. 

“I’ll have you know I am a cat of my word,” he said nonchalantly. 

“Adrien?”

“Of course not.” A look of relief as she wanted to surprise him. She even insisted that her mother and father keep their tongue too. Threatening not to write or call for a week if they did. They were so happy for her to be moving to Shanghai, not to mention in with Adrien. Their faces lit up as they began discussing nicknames for grandkids. Adrien found the whole conversation unnerving at first but when he saw the looks on their faces, the pure joy, he felt grateful they were such wonderful people. 

He still hadn’t talked to Emelie despite her condition improving. Amalie maintained the radio silence as well after Felix had threatened to cut her out of his life completely if she didn’t give Adrien space. Though, Adrien hadn’t told Marinette about all of that mess yet. He was afraid it would scare her off and he wanted her to enjoy her time here before bombing her with it. 

Weeks had gone by as Adrien packed up his studio and shuffled all of his stuff into the new apartment. The Apartment opened up into the foyers, with a partial wall separating it from the living room. The kitchen to the right just like his old apartment had a counter divider with two bar stools on the living room side. The marble decor was the same as his old unit, taking into mind the carpeting in the living room stopped before the bar stools. The coat closet next to the front door was slightly deeper like a mini walk-in.  There was a small dining table situated by the windowed wall in the kitchen. It was twice the size of his last kitchen. 

He found the stairs to the loft in the same place however instead of an open bedroom area there were four doors. One was a bathroom and the other three bedrooms. The master bedroom, being nearly the size of his last unit, had its own bathroom with a walk-in shower and jet stream tub. The second and third bathrooms were on either side of the bathroom. Adrien decided to move his stuff into the smaller of the two rooms closest to the stairs so that Marinette could have the main room with her own bathroom. 

It only took him a week to clean out the old unit and clean it even though professional cleaners would be in to clean it properly. The unit was unfurnished but the furniture from the old unit was bought by Amelie so he had a few bell boys help him move it into the new unit. He had only to buy a bed for Marinette before she got there. He had Sabine pick out some furniture online and he ordered it. 

The two weeks flew by faster as he spent more time at the temple tutoring the youth. As well as his daily chores there.

A video call with Marinette came in very early in the morning, though it wasn’t that early where she was at. She had just arrived at the airport with her parents who were seeing her off. Her bags were checked and she was standing in front of the windows overlooking the runway. 

“I can’t wait to see you, Princess.” He said enthusiastically as he lay in his bed. He tried to not let her see he was in bed or that he didn’t have a shirt on, she’d be a mess and end up missing her flight. 

“Did I wake you?” She looked guilty 

“I wouldn’t have missed this call for anything Princess, you better get on that plane you let me down now.” he winked at her. 

“Don’t worry, that was her boarding call. We are putting her on the plane right now,” Tom said. Adrien chuckled as they hung up the phone. 

“I’m just surprised you love birds are going to be in separate rooms.” Plagg teased. “How long is that going to last?”

“Hey, you have your own room now, what are you harassing me for?” Adrien teased him.

“Actually that is going to be Marinette’s sewing room, right?” Plagg had a point. 

“I mean, when she gets here, you can start staying in the miracle box with the others.” 

“Too cramped. I need to stretch my legs and be free.” Plagg folded his arms behind his head as he hovered over the bed. Adrien copied him as he lay in his bed. His phone ran again, this time it was Felix.

“I’ll be coming to Shanghai today, I am at the airport now.” He sounded rushed.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” Adrien asked. It meant he would be on the same plane with Marinette. His stomach balled up. 

“A last minute showing of some new designs and they can’t seem to be able to agree on one.” Felix said something to the boarding clerk. “I need you to attend with me.” 

“I have classes, I can’t cancel them, plus I am now tutoring some of my students.” Adrien complained. It made things worse that he wouldn’t be able to spend time with Marinette. 

“I’m sure we can arrange the viewing for after your classes or before. What time is your fist class and last class….” He paused. “You know what, we can discuss that when I get there.” his voice had changed from rushed to pleasant and happy. Damn, did he see Marinette, is he sitting with her? Adrien’s anxiety tightened on his chest as he laid back against his pillow. 

After a long and nerve wracking day, Adrien stood at the airport waiting for both his cousin and his...friend? He hadn’t bothered to change his clothes after he finished at the temple, so he was still dressed in his yi-fu. He decided to wait near the baggage claim so he could help grab her luggage. Felix would likely have one bag and it was probably a carry on. Adrien saw her bags first and grabbed up. She had a lot as he had expected, they were pink with darker pink polka dots, no surprise there. As he finished loading them on a luggage cart he heard Felix’s voice. 

“Are you serious Marinette, that would be great.” Felix sounded excited, a tone he didn’t use very often. Adrien could feel the heat in his face as he tried to compose himself before turning around to greet them. 

“Adrien.” Marinette exclaimed as he turned around to catch her as she leaped into his arms. He spun her around holding her tightly and making a big show of it. “Look who found me on the plane, he wants me to come with you two to the fashion showing this afternoon.” Adrien feigned a smile. While Marinette was the fashion expert between the three of them, he wasn’t sure if his cousin’s intentions were pure, or if he was competition. 

“So, I hope you got that sare bedroom made up for me…” Felix leaned in to whisper. “Brother.” Adrien’s face burned even more now, said spare bedroom was right next to her room and well, was empty. 

“Sure, if you don’t mind sleeping on the floor.” Adrien laughed as they loaded up in the car. Felix pulled out his phone and made a call. 

“I need a spare bed set up in the Graham De Vanily room, you’ll know which room.” Adrien was amazed at how resourceful his cousin was. This is why he is the primary controlling party for the company.  The ride back to the apartment in the Taxi was cramped with Marinette wedged between Adrien and Felix. Adrien, being clearly larger than his twin, though not too much. Marinette let out a loud yawn so Adrien threw his arm over her shoulder and pulled her head into his chest casting a possessive glance to Felix, who simply smirked back to him. 

The Bus boys carried her bags to the suite. 

“I don’t know about you two, but I am famished.’ Felix said, “Shall we step out for dinner?”

“That sounds great, we should go to Thousand Delights?” Adrien smiled at her excitement. 

“Are you okay to go, Marinette,” Adrien asked “You were nearly falling asleep in the plane, you might need a nap.”

“Nonsense. She’s fine.” Felix swooped a hand over her shoulder and led her back to the curb. “Shall I call a driver to come get us, less cramped than a taxi.” Competition is then. Adrien scowled. 

“If my accommodations aren’t sufficient for you, COUSIN,” Adrien slid his arm around her waist tugging her to his side and out of Felix’s hands. “You are welcome to make your own. Felix’s smile was one of mischief as he let his arm fall from her shoulders. Her face froze in a ‘what just happened’ expression. A few minutes later a mini black limo arrived and the driver moved quickly to open the door.

“Lady’s first.” Felix insisted then slid in after her. Adrien ran to the other side to let himself in next to her. Once again, Marinette was trapped between the two, though Adrien focuses on the fact, she would be staying with him when Felix returned to Paris. 

“Where’s your ring?” Adrien finally asked, having noticed his hand free of it when his arm was around Marinette.

“I uh, Amalie,” he choked. “They want yours as well to get them refinished or something.” Adrien slipped the ring off his finger and handed it to Felix.

“I don’t know what Amalie and Emelie want with them, but they have no meaning to me.” Adrien turned to the window.

“Ooookay.” Marinette’s voice broke through the awkwardness. “Amalie? Emelie? Not mother?” 

“It’s a long story.” Felix said, patting her knee. 

“Well, tell me tonight, when we get back?” Marinette’s voice was so sweet. Adrien was glad didn’t didn’t stumble over her words like she did when they were younger, now he could have a real conversation with her and actually know the true intentions of her words. 

“We will have plenty of time to talk about that Marinette,’ Adrien smiled at her as he put his arm around her shoulders again, “But let’s just have some fun first,” He kissed her forehead, casting a glance to Felix. The thought of telling her made his stomach clench and he could tell it was difficult for Felix too. Not exactly something that comes up in casual conversation.

Cheng Sifu was excited to see him, but his confusion over the “Cousin” kept him constantly glancing back and forth between them. Felix and Adrien smiled at him, then they both laughed.

“Cheng Sifu, we get that all of the time, our mothers are identical twins as well.” Adrien didn’t mean to add that, but it was too late. 

“What he means is, we share the Graham De Vanily twin genes.” Felix to the rescue, casting a scowl at Adrien. “Which means.” smiling at Marinette, “When we have children, our wives will bear us twins.” Adrien caught the wink in his eye. 

“Well, I don’t think we need to worry about you having any children any time soon Felix,” Adrien leaned back in his seat as his empty bowl sat in front of him. He wrapped an arm around Marinette, “You have to have a girlfriend first.” He gave Marinette a gentle squeeze and a smile.

“Oh.” Felix said, putting his napkin down on the table. “And you do? I thought she was just a friend?”

“Yeah, she is.” Adrien smiled at her. “A girlfriend.” He placed a quick kiss on her startled lips. Making a show of it before Felix could question if he even had a chance. Adrien knew Marinette had loved him since day one, even though she only knew the facade his father created, but he loved her for her. 

“I see.” Felix’s tone seemed to have a playful melody to it. “I’m happy to hear that.” Cheng Sifu began to play his happiest of songs on his accordion. 

“I always knew the two of you would be together someday.” A joyful tear fell down his cheek. 

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #384

“watch your tongue or have it cut from your head”

Do you post to say happy birthday on other people’s walls? Sometimes. Depends on my mood and the person. When was the last time you saw a rainbow? Idr. What’s your favorite television commercial? I don't watch TV enough at all to have one. And who has a favorite commercial, anyway? Do you trip a lot? I don't really trip a lot, but kinda fumble over my footing and stray a bit. I'm horrible at walking straight, and it's gotten worse as my legs have. How old is your television? The one in the living room is god knows how old. My parents were still together when they bought it. When did you last talk on the phone with someone? A couple days ago for my appointment with my psychiatrist. Are you currently sleepy? I'm quite convinced I'm permanently tired. Are you hot or cold natured? I am ALWAYS fucking hot, ugh. Do you take any advanced classes? I took mostly Honors classes in school. Do you have weak upper body strength? My body is just weak as a whole. What is the worst insult someone can call you? Emotionally weak. Are you good at sketching? If we're talking meerkats, haha. They're the only complex thing that I can freehand no problem without needing a reference, honestly. Ever play Angry Birds? Nah. I thought the movie was cute, though. Have you ever been to the zoo before? Yeah. Has anyone ever been weirdly obsessed with you? No. Are you afraid someone might steal your identity someday? It's not something I actively worry about at all. Like, you don't want my identity, I promise. Do you have any talents that come naturally? Growing up, adults always told me I was a "gifted" artist and writer. Also that I seem to have an unnaturally strong connection with animals. I've always been that person where a pet's owner is like "omg ____ never lets people do that" and whatnot. Have you ever had plastic surgery before? I haven't. It's funny though, how opposed to it I used to be... Like goddamn, I was such a fucking stupid and honestly judgmental teenager, regarding many things. I look back on her and cringe. Like damn dude, if you have a safe surgical procedure to help you enjoy the body you're stuck with the rest of your life, you go for it, boo. Are you afraid of airplane rides? Not really. What’s the best Valentine’s Day gift you’ve gotten? There was this one year where Jason had to go to work on Valentine's Day and I was super bummed, yet he still surprised me with a heart-shaped box of chocolates, roses, and a game I really wanted, Heavy Rain. I thought it was the sweetest. What is something you lose often? My phone. ;-; Do you enter a lot of sweepstakes? I don't enter any. Do you consider yourself physically active? *chuckles nervously* Do you have Netflix? Yeah. Favorite salad dressing? That Olive Garden replica you can buy at the store. Do you enjoy dancing? Once upon a time I did. My body could never handle it now. Have you ever considered writing a novel? Many times. Snow or sand? Snow, by twenty thousand miles. It is VERY hard for me to walk through sand, and I also hate hate hate hate HATE the sensation. Do you like sour candy? Heeeeeell yeah man. Have you gotten any injuries lately? If so, what & how? Nothing notable. Are you a clumsy person? Like you would not fucking believe. Last male you talked to in person? I think my primary physician's nurse. Are you thinking about asking anyone out? No. Pink lemonade or regular lemonade? Pink lemonade, for sure. But I love both. Chocolate or strawberry milk? CHOCOLATE. Strawberry milk is disgusting. Have you ever won a contest on the radio?No. Is there a song that reminds you of your best friend? There's quite a few. Has a book ever made you cry? Yes. Do you automatically check your phone when you wake up? Yes, for the time. Do you know anyone who has a pet bunny? Not that I'm aware. What store or website would you most like a gift card for? Rebel's Market. How do you feel about wolves? I adore wolves. Beautiful, majestic creatures with very interesting social dynamics. Name your top 3 favorite musical instruments. Electric guitar, violin, piano. What was the last book(s) you bought at a bookstore? At an actual bookstore, I think it was The Fault In Our Stars, which I never actually read. Do you use Pinterest? Yes. Do you know any sign language? No. Do you have a favorite poem? No. Do you have a dog? No. The one we were pretty much stuck with has a home now. Have you ever read The Little House on the Prairie series? I haven't. Have you ever gone on a service trip to an underprivileged country? No. Have you ever performed in front of more than 100 people? Yes, for dance. When (if ever) was the last time you went to church? Forever ago, I don't even remember the last time. What's a quote you think is really powerful? There's a whole lot. The first one that came to mind was, "An eye for an eye will leave the world blind," which I do believe has great depth in it. Have you ever had to do your laundry at a laundromat? Yes. Are you the oldest person who lives in your household? No. My mom is turning 60 (... I think?) this year. If you have tattoos, how long have you had them? I got my first the day I turned 18. Do you and your dad have similar personalities? We're alike in some ways, imo most notably in that we have NO fucking common sense, embarrassing as that is to admit. We're both kinda slow at understanding things, too. What were the last three things you had to drink? Mountain Lightning, milk, and water. What did your family usually do for Easter when you were a kid? Us three kids all got Easter baskets full of stuff, and we'd go egg-hunting when we were all awake. My little sister Nicole would always wake our parents up in excitement, haha. My parents hid plenty throughout the house, and there was always this one "special" egg that was actually from Mom's childhood and was extremely intricate and beautiful. You basically "won" the hunt if you found it, and it was extremely well-hidden. When you have house guests over, where do they sleep? Historically since living here, my two half-sisters and their spouses (the only people who've stayed over) slept in what is *technically* Mom's room, but for whatever reason this woman still insists on sleeping on the couch in the living room, I guess because she's used to it after all the years she didn't have her own room and bed. Are you emotionally stable? LOLOOLOLOOLLOLOOLOOLOLLOOLOLLLLLLLLLLL Do you still talk to the very first person you had sex with? No. Are you an atheist? No. I don't quite know how to define what I am, but since I believe there's SOME higher power, I don't think it's fitting to call me an atheist. What’s the largest bug you’ve ever found in your house? Hm... I'm unsure. Probably a male mosquito, 'cuz them bitches are big'ins. Would it annoy you if a stranger called you "sweetie?" If it was a man, I'd be creeped out. Are you into fashion design? Not really. What’s the worst thing you’ve gone through in the past year? My leg muscles continuing to degrade, honestly. I have to do something about this shit. How did you get your last bruise? I fell when stepping over the stupid dog gate. Have your parents ever forgotten your birthday? Yikes, no. Would you rather have some bacon or beef jerky? Bacon. Do you like your orange juice with lots or no pulp? NONE. Do you wear skinny jeans? Back when I wore jeans, they were the only kind I wore. What projects are you doing now for school? I'm outta school. What’s the most number of comments you have on a Facebook picture? What is the picture of? I have no idea. Do you like coconut flavored things? No. Have you ever met a famous author before? No. Do you know anybody who has been raped before? No, thank god. I know someone who might've almost been, though. I don't know what the fucking pig was going to do to her if my sister and I weren't there. Have you ever wished for bigger boobs? No. Being overweight, I just want smaller ones now, haha. Have you ever gone a full day without interacting with another person? I've gone many days without it. How many relationships have you been in that lasted less than a year? Four, if you're counting everyone that had the "boyfriend" title. Where were you going the last time you were on a plane? Home from Illinois. Where were you going the last time you were on a train? I've never been on one. Have you ever been significantly more physically fit than you are now? Holy fuck, yes. You would never guess now that I was perfectly healthy in high school especially, yet I still thought I was kinda fat. It hurts so much to look back on. When growing up, did you parents keep the house very tidy? I mean not excessively, but Mom was pretty dedicated to keeping the house in decent condition. With three kids though, of course the house was somewhat messy with toys and all. When you shop at IKEA, do you always stop to eat a snack/meal in the cafeteria? ... There's a fucking cafeteria in a furniture store? o_o I've never been there before. How many watches do you own? None, save for one in my "treasure box" from when I was a kid. I was SO SO SO obsessed with Finding Nemo that I kept my broken one. I did the same with my horribly aged sneakers, like the soles were coming off and Mom finally made me stop wearing them, ha. Are there any ways in which you greatly differ from everyone else in your family? I do fucking nothing and am useless to society. Should teenagers be allowed to have their cell phones with them in class? Yes, because emergencies happen. I personally think it's best to maybe have your cell phone flipped over on the corner of your desk or something and on vibrate, that way the noise isn't too disruptive and the teacher can see you're not just using it for other purposes. Do you have any gay relatives? Yes. Have you ever had to have a pet put down? Sigh, multiple. Have you unfollowed, deleted, or blocked anyone on social media recently? If so, what was the reason? Not recently. How many cups of coffee do you typically drink per day? None. Do you know what your vocal range is? No, but it's not very broad. What’s the biggest financial mistake you’ve ever made? I haven't been in this position before. Have you ever been in a relationship where there was a large difference in maturity levels? No. What’s the longest you’ve ever stayed as a guest at someone’s house? I wanna say over a month while we were technically homeless. How bad was your acne when you were a teenager? Oh dear, it was rough. Like there were people who had it worse than me, but ya girl was lookin preeeetty rough lmao.

[ohblackdiamond]

little t&a (gene/paul, nc-17) (part 25 of 29)

part 1   part 2   part 3   part 4   part 5   part 6   part 7   part 8   part 9   part 10   part 11   part 12   part 13   part 14   part 15   part 16   part 17   part 18   part 19   part 20   part 21  part 22   part 23   part 24    part 25   part 26   part 27   part 28   part 29 

Four weeks before KISS gets back on tour, Gene discovers that Paul’s been cursed by a groupie. For the sake of KISS’ finances, Paul’s comfort levels, and Gene’s libido, this crisis must be resolved. Sexswap fic. In this chapter:  Gene makes a housecall; Paul gets some advice from Ace over the phone.

 It wasn’t a long ride over to that dingy apartment complex.

            Gene didn’t know what he was expecting. The place didn’t look any better in the daylight, and when he got out of the car, he saw his driver reach over his seat and start locking all the car doors. He stepped inside alone, walking the craggy flights of steps up to her old apartment number, knocking on the door in what he knew had to be a useless endeavor.

            He was a little hopeful when a different girl answered. A pretty thing, really, with curly black hair and sad eyes. A really pretty thing, he could tell that even from the scant few inches she opened the door.

            “Yes?”

            “Hey.” Gene paused. “I was here a few nights ago. I was wondering if you had a forwarding address for someone who used to live here, Carol—"

            “Carol left a couple weeks ago.”

            “I know. I’m just trying to find where she went after that.”

            “She didn’t pay her share of the rent.” The girl looked Gene up and down, from the baggy sweatpants to the old floral shirt. “We had to kick her out.”

            “I know, I—”

            “Did something bad happen? Are you with the police or something?”

            “I’m not with the police.” Gene tried to think. If the roommates had kicked her out, then that meant she hadn’t been on the lease, right? The apartment manager would’ve had to have her forwarding address if she had been. Wasn’t that how it worked? “She got into some trouble with a rockstar.”

            “Trouble?” The girl repeated, with more innocence than Gene could readily believe, at first. “She kept trying to hex one. Kathy got pissed when she spilled some offering on the carpet…”

            “Yeah, trouble.” Gene tried to infuse the word with its usual meaning. Babies and under the table payoffs. He couldn’t tell if she took the bait or not. “Can you help me?”

            “Her mom lives in Virginia,” she offered. “She’s not from there, though, I think she’s from… I don’t know, Minnesota or Michigan… somewhere that starts with an M…”

            That was barely better than no help at all. He tried to pay attention as the girl kept trailing off.

            “Her mom’s got scads of money from her dad dying. She helps her out a lot. Carol said if we’d just give her a couple more days, then she’d be good for the next three months. Swore it. Kathy and Bunny wouldn’t have it, though, ’cause between the rent and the occult stuff, she was too wild for us, and—”

            “Do you have her mother’s address?”

            “No. Well…” She pursed her lips, thinking, and then held a finger up. “Let me look around, maybe there’s an envelope…”

            And she scurried back from the door, still leaving it open those few inches as she rummaged around, the door chain keeping him from seeing much of the place at all. He waited, listening to her scuffle across the apartment, rustling through papers, until finally that dark cloud of hair peeked back into existence at the door.

            “No. I’m sorry. Oh, but she used to go to discos! You might wanna check CBGB, or the Ice Pa—”

            “I’ve done it already,” Gene said, and walked away.

--

            No good. It had been stupid to hope for any new insight. If he really wanted to push it, there was the possibility of finding Carol at 54 again tonight, but Gene doubted she’d be there, and he doubted Paul would want to go there again. He wouldn’t leave Paul at home by himself for a venture like that, either.

            Gene had his driver take him to the nearest supermarket immediately after. The driver had weakly offered to take him to a better part of town, but Gene hadn’t cared enough to go those few extra miles for a little more security.

            He’d never really gotten his own groceries. When he was off tour, at home, he ate out more often than not, or he went to his mother’s. She always had a smorgasbord at the ready. Always cooking. Gene remembered that early on during tours, when money was tight, Paul and Peter would take it upon themselves to make dinners for the band—they weren’t great—but at least they actually knew what to get and how to fix it. Gene was pushing his shopping cart through the aisles, looking at rows of dried and canned goods and feeling mildly stumped by the whole affair. He’d never paid much attention to how his mother cooked anything, just the end result, so any comfort food from when he’d grown up was out. But maybe…

            He settled on a few bottles of Tab, since Peter and Ace had gotten into Paul’s supply of them prior, and then some spaghetti noodles and canned tomatoes. That seemed depressing, so he doubled back to retrieve some fresh tomatoes, mushrooms, and onions as well. Maybe it wouldn’t be that great of a follow-up to matzo ball soup, if he ended up getting it, but it was definitely an improvement to eating peanut-butter sandwiches for dinner. Then he got a box of vanilla wafers, a package of chocolate-chip cookies, and a bunch of bananas.

            Gene was nearing the check-out lanes when he felt someone’s eyes on him. He stiffened and stopped, opting not to turn around—it was probably some kid who’d recognized him. Funny how, as long as he’d been with Paul, he hadn’t gotten spotted for who he was once, except on purpose. He pretended to focus all his attention on the label on a bottle of honey, picking it up and inspecting it, waiting for the passerby to either come closer or move on ahead. In a few seconds, he had it—a girl actually scurrying past. A small girl, only carrying a shopping basket and a purse. If he hadn’t caught a glimpse of her pale, freckled face, he wouldn’t have realized who she was.

            Absolutely unbelievable. He had to have expended all his luck over the next three years. Quickly, he pushed his cart to the side and tapped her shoulder before she could make it to the check-out line. She turned around, staring at him, eyes wide and stunned. She tried to take a step back, stopping short of even that movement.

            “Good morning, Carol.”

--

            Paul woke up abruptly. The day’s newspaper was on Gene’s side of the bed, the sections separated and askew. He didn’t bother pushing them aside, just reached over to check the clock on the nightstand, finding the note Gene left behind. He reread it once, twice, trying to ignore the paranoid, curdling sensation in his gut, the idea that Gene might have just gotten tired of him and tried to find a quick exit, at least for awhile. He wouldn’t have blamed him, not after last night. Not after four nights and five days of putting up with him.

            But Gene was bringing him back food. No, more than that, he was bringing him back matzo ball soup and probably a deli sandwich, and whatever Gene thought constituted real groceries. If he was really leaving, he wouldn’t have bothered to specify. Gene must’ve assumed Paul would sleep late enough to start the day with lunch, and, looking at the clock, he hadn’t been too far off. It was fifteen until eleven.

            He sighed, stretching out a bit before getting up and pulling on some clothes. All he had left was the dress he’d bought, the one he’d decided wasn’t nice enough for Studio 54. Just a cream and gold colored sundress. Softer colors than he’d usually have opted for. He picked absently at the thin straps. He never felt more fake than when he was alone, even before all this happened.

            The phone rang before he could decide what else to do, whether to wait on Gene or eat something or waste awhile in front of the T.V. It startled him a little. Ever since Gene had come, he’d rarely been in the house enough to hear it ring. Another cushion from reality.

            He ignored it. It kept ringing. Six times. Seven. Eventually, the answering machine tape started up, and he heard his own, actual voice, another piece of bewilderment.

            “Hey, this is Paul Stanley. If you’ll leave your name and number, I’ll be in touch as soon as I can. Thanks.”

            “Paul, this is Ace, I—”

            Paul grabbed the phone, sudden relief flooding into him.

             “Ace?”

            “Who’s this?” A pause, and then. “Paul?”

            Paul leaned over the answering machine, gingerly unplugging it to keep the tape from running while he spoke.

            “Yeah. Yeah, it’s me.”

            “Sorry I’m late calling. Gene got you back home the other night?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Still not normal yet.” Ace sighed. “What’s she want out of you? You never told me.”

            “Nothing I can’t do.”

            “Virgin sacrifice?”

            Paul froze up for a second, the phone feeling like a rock in his hand. No way had Gene told the guys. No way. It was a moment or two before he could force a small laugh.

            “You’re not too far off.”

            “Shit, do you have to kill someone? Keep the tits, it’s not worth—”

            “No! I—forget it, man. I don’t have to hurt anybody. I can do it.”

            He expected Ace to push for a better answer than that, but he didn’t. God. Ace knew the fate of the whole band sat right on Paul’s shoulders, and yet he didn’t want to ask for a better explanation. Maybe he didn’t give a fuck. Maybe he wanted to go out on his own. Maybe him and Peter were just chomping at the bit to splinter off from the group. Why shouldn’t they? Paul was ruining everything for them just as readily as he was ruining everything for Gene. Paul took a deep breath, tried to convince himself he wasn’t being rational, but the impressions were still wobbling in his brain even when Ace started to talk again.

            “Peter was gonna check on you, but he’s still kinda…” Ace trailed. “So I told him not to worry about it. You okay?”

            “I’m fine.”

            “You really okay?”

            “Yeah, Ace.”

            “Nobody screwed around with you?”

            “Ace, if you want a play-by-play of two nights ago, I’m sure you—”

            “Okay, okay. Just making sure. Pete’s real worried about you.”

            “’M okay.”

            “He lit into Gene for letting you go off.”

            “He shouldn’t have. It was fine.” God. Gene had told him. Or Peter had called the house. One or the other. Paul swallowed. Something about it hurt, almost made his eyes burn. Weird, how that was. Weird how knowing all the guys really did give a shit about him would be enough to nearly induce tears. Maybe he was just that stressed and worn out. He could almost picture Ace’s mild, affable, probably-hungover look, and that helped him blink back anything incriminating.

            “Oh, and you got in the paper, too.”

            “No shit?”

            “No shit. Not front page, but you’re in the entertainment section—”

            Paul scrambled for the newspaper, flipping through the sections. He nearly didn’t recognize his own picture—funny, when he’d been staring at that face for over a week now—but there he was, arm and arm with Gene in a corner photo. Gene’s face was still covered, and Paul was leaning in heavily against him, mouth parted in a strained attempt at a smile. Two days ago. Two days ago and the firmness and warmth of Gene’s hold, the smell of his sweat, all of that had only gotten all the more familiar. All the more something he needed instead of just longed for. Something secure. Something meaningful.

            “Gene got his picture after all.”

            “Huh?”

            “Nothing. ‘Tongue-waggling KISS bassist Gene Simmons cozies up to a Miss Isen at Studio 54,’” Paul read dryly. “They misspelled my name.”

            “You look sweet.”

            “I look awful.”

            “Give yourself some credit. You make a hot chick.” Ace laughed. Not maliciously. Paul didn’t think the guy was really capable of being malicious. He hesitated, running his free hand down his knee, smoothing the material of the dress, before responding.

            “Can I ask you something, Ace?”

            “Sure, Paulie.”

            “It’s a… it’s a thought experiment.”

            “Don’t get all pretentious and shit. I know you dropped out of college.”

            Paul had never been more grateful that he couldn’t see Ace on the other end of the line. He’d have given himself away already otherwise. He swallowed thickly.

            “Ace—this is all just—hypothetical. Let’s say… let’s say you got told you could have what you wanted.”

            “Then I’d wait on the catch.”

            Paul could feel his mouth twitch up into an unwilling, dry smile.

            “The catch is, you could only get it once, and that was it. Just once. Would you still take it?”

            Ace didn’t hesitate.

            “Yeah.”

            “Why?”

            “’Cause I’d rather have something once than never have it.”

            “I’m not like that. If I couldn’t—if I couldn’t keep having something, I’d never—”

            “All or nothing, right, Paul?” Paul could hear Ace rustling something on the other end of the line. Papers, maybe. “You can’t go through life like that, you’ll never be satisfied. You gotta compromise.”

            “You compromise everything.”

            “’M happier for it.”

            “You can’t be. Compromising… it’s just giving up, isn’t it?”

            “No. Paulie—” Ace made a short, weird sound, almost like he was sucking the spit off his teeth. “You always think you’re figuring on the long term, and you’re not.”

            “I am—”

            “You’re not. Hear me out, man. You think there’s any guarantees anywhere? Look at the band—”

            “This isn’t about the band—”

            “’S just an example. We got our big hit. Now what if—what if that’s the best we ever do? Whether you get your dick back or not, what if that’s as good as it ever gets?”

            “That… that can’t happen.” It felt like something was stuck in his throat. This wasn’t how he’d expected this to go, not at all. “We just got really big, it can’t be over that quick. There’s no way. Ace, we…”

            “What if it is, Paul? What would you say?” Ace’s words sped up in a still-lazy rattle. “What if we go bust a year from now?”

            “Don’t talk like that, man.”

            “You need to hear it. This ain’t gonna last any way you slice it, don’t kid yourself.” Paul’s stomach churned as he heard the click of a pop top on the other end of the line, and Ace taking a swig and a swallow. “We’ll wear out our welcome. Maybe we already have. Nobody lasts in music.”

            “Elvis—”

            “Elvis is a joke, Paulie.” Another long gulp. “And if you get past his age, what else d’you got? You got—you got Bing Crosby dragging his own corpse out there every fucking year for his Christmas special. Been wailing out ‘White Christmas’ since World War II. If we’re still playing ‘Cold Gin’ when we’re forty-five, I hope to God someone takes us out back and shoots us.”

            Paul chewed his lip. He felt grimmer now than when he’d picked up the phone, almost distracted out of what he’d really been trying to ask of Ace. Ace, who kept up with weird shit like space shuttles and went on drunken rambles about the aliens who’d made him small. Ace, who he’d assumed was just along for the ride on everything. Paul felt an odd curdling in his gut, something like shame for assuming he and Gene were the only ones who ever thought ahead. For writing off Ace and Peter like their myriad addictions made them stupid.

            “Shit, Ace, you’re usually a little more positive—”

            “’M just trying to make a point here.” Ace blew out a breath loud enough that Paul could hear it over the phone. “If this is as good as it gets, would you say you don’t want it? Would you say you wanted to turn it all back around? Me and you driving cabs? Gene teaching school again? Pete—”

            “No!”

            “Why not?”

            “Because we’re gonna do better than that, that’s why! I-I’ll write whatever crossover songs I’ve got to, we’ll keep on touring, and—”

            “But you don’t know that.”

            “I do know that!”

            “Nah, Paulie. You don’t know that.” Ace let out an odd sound, halfway between a laugh and a sigh. “You’re just betting on it. Ought to bet on something a little more certain.”

            “Like what?”

            “Like Geno getting over you not having tits.”

            “What?”

            “You heard me.”

            “That’s got nothing to do with—did he—shit, what did he tell you?”

            “Jesus, your voice gets real squeaky. Did it always do that?” Ace said it so mildly, as always. Ace couldn’t even bitch properly when Paul had his whole career dangling on the line. “I haven’t talked to him since we came over.”

            “Then—”

            “You’re like a glass of water, Paulie, just see-through. You ain’t fooling anyone. Listen, do what you’ve gotta do. But don’t do it based on anybody but yourself.”

            “I’ll call you back later, Ace.”

            “Okay, girlie.”

            Paul hung up before Ace managed a goodbye on the other end. His heart was thudding harder than ever.

[lgbtyrus]

Two Exes on Mars

A Tyrus fic where they’re aged up + broken up :) It will have a ‘happily ever after’, I promise. Note: IDK if you know your Andi Mack lore, but just in case, Shadyside is in a fictional US state called Midwest.

Part 1/? (I’m thinking 3 or 4)

Words: 2,668

He kissed him goodbye. It wasn’t even rainy or cloudy outside, much less foggy. It was super bright and sunny, and Cyrus could hear every single bird in Shadyside chirping as his now ex-boyfriend walked out the front door of his house. He waited until TJ was out of his driveway to shut the door and break out in tears, pressing his forehead and fist against his door.

Why? he wondered. Why? Why? Why?

But he knew why. He knew why TJ had let him go in the worst breakup in the world. He had tried to a week ago which led to Cyrus breaking down in front of him and ended up with them back together. But the tension between them was so obviously, and it lead to TJ’s horrible mood swings and random outbursts he never apologized for. It made Cyrus feel like crap. Then in the middle of the week, TJ tried breaking up with him over text. Cyrus ignored it, and TJ went over to his house the next day like nothing had happened. Not even three days later, TJ came over to break up him a third time. For good.

That just happened two minutes ago, and Cyrus silently let him leave this time. He shouldn’t have ever let him see him cry.

“You have to go to California, Cyrus,” TJ had told him, his eyes red and his hands clenching into tight fists. All Cyrus could do was stare at the floor. It’s not everyday you get a chance to go to USC, but it also meant leaving everyone you loved behind- including TJ. Him and TJ had been together since the 8th grade, and he had included TJ in all of his future plans. For him, being in a long distance relationship was a possibility, and he never thought TJ would be against it.

“I want to go to MSU,” Cyrus shook his head, refusing to look at him. TJ was going to MSU on a basketball scholarship, and yeah, they had a theatre and screenwriting, but it wasn’t USC. It was one of the hardest choices Cyrus had to make.

“You’re clearly lying, Cyrus,” TJ let out a frustrated sigh, “I know when you’re lying.” It’s true, he did. His hands always instinctively went inside a pocket, and Cyrus has never been able to stop it. “Cyrus. I know I’m the main reason why you want to stay in Midwest, but I want you to go to USC. It’s what you want.”

“Does that mean we have to break up, though?” Cyrus asked him sadly, his voice quiet. TJ ran his fingers through his blonde hair and let out a deep breath.

“We’d be doing long distance for four years, Cyrus. I don’t want to hold you back from being at your prime if you’re moping around missing me the entire time.”

“Are you just saying this because you’re the one that’s not going to be fine?” There wasn’t even a pause.

“Yes, Cyrus!” TJ said loudly, startling Cyrus. “I can’t spend four years of my life being sad because I miss you all the time, but I also can’t live with the guilt I’m going to feel if you don’t go to USC. This entire situation is driving me insane, and I really think breaking up is the best way to go.”

“You honestly think that?” Cyrus frowned, looking right up at him. He didn’t want to break down like he did the first time. “You’re just giving up? Not even giving long distance a try. After five years, TJ?”

TJ shamefully looked away before saying, “I love you, Cyrus. But I think it’d hurt less to let you go.”

“How?” Cyrus’ voice started to tremble as he spoke in complete disbelief, “How can you even say you love me right now?” TJ didn’t say anything. He just slowly walking up to Cyrus, each step taking its own time before cupping his face in his hands and kissing him softly.

TJ pulled away, whispering, “Bye, Cyrus.”

Cyrus was now sitting on his bedroom floor, playing music louder than his occasional sob. Andi and Buffy were on their way, but until then, it was him, and a lone polaroid picture he had of him and TJ on their first Valentine’s Day together right in front of him. Him and TJ were sitting on one side of the booth at The Spoon while Marty and Buffy sat on the other side. TJ had his arms around him and was smiling in to his cheek, leaving a very fluttered Cyrus to be captured forever.

“Cyrus!” someone yelled out from downstairs. “We’re here.”

“Upstairs!” Cyrus yelled out, his voice slightly cracking. He hadn’t spoken since TJ left, and his throat hurt. He was glad he left the door unlocked for them because he didn’t have the energy to move.

Andi peaked her head through his bedroom door, frowning when she saw him, “Hi, Cyrus.”

“Hey,” Cyrus waved, “come in.” He hadn’t seen Andi in about three weeks was she was getting busy with her senior art project for SAVA. He loved her for being here during a busy time. Buffy trailed in behind Andi with two loaded grocery bags.

“We brought ice cream and pie,” Buffy held the bags up. “We stopped by your kitchen to get utensils.”

“Thank you because I was not going to move,” Cyrus said. Andi and Buffy sat down on each side of him and rested their heads on his shoulder.

“You can cry if you want,” Andi told him.

“Yeah,” Buffy agreed, “we bought three tissue boxes.”

“I’ve been crying for like an hour, and I’m just tired of it at this point. But this is also probably just the start,” Cyrus mumbled. “How am I supposed to accept that someone I talked to everyday for five years is leaving my life?”

“I know it hurts, Cyrus,” Buffy whispered. “But you’re stronger than you think. You’re going to get through this. Trust me. I’m always right.”

“I know you are,” Cyrus smiled slightly. “You know what sucks the most though?”

“What?” they asked in unison.

“We already have matching tuxedos from prom.” -

Cyrus and TJ showed up with new tuxedos to prom. Andi herself made Cyrus a brand new one. The according to different sources, both Cyrus and TJ had both begged Gus to cancel their Prom Court nomination. Gus thought it was funny until Buffy stepped in, and he got scared.

Cyrus and TJ didn’t sit together at lunch anymore or do homework together or visit the swing sets every Tuesday after TJ got out of tutoring. Cyrus submitted his paperwork to attend USC in the fall and according to Amber who was at Shadyside’s community college, TJ was going to go to MSU to play for their basketball team. Buffy and Marty would be seeing him at MSU seeing they got track scholarships.

Cyrus cried every night for the rest of the school year after finishing his homework because he worked to hard to have his GPA suffer over a boy who clearly didn’t care if he fell apart. He sometimes sat in the bathtub and let music fill his whole bathroom and no matter what, every single song would remind him of TJ. Of course, that was his fault for playing the playlists TJ had made him on Spotify. He wondered if he could see that he was listening to them. He hoped he did.

Cyrus didn’t have any communication with TJ since the last texts he sent him. It was a 2AM on a Saturday night, about three weeks since the breakup. He felt horrible and didn’t know how to stop crying. Even though Buffy had told him to call him whenever, he couldn’t keep dumping everything on her.

Cyrus: hey tj I hope im not waking u up idk if you still have your phone set so that u only get text alerts from me but I just wanted to say that I miss you.

Cyrus: I miss you so much tj idk what to do without you. Everything hurts all the time and I just want to talk to you and hear you voice even if we cant date anymore please talk to me. Please be my friend again tj we were best friends for 5 years we work so good together

Cyrus: I love you. I think that ill always be in love with you.

TJ: Goodnight Underdog.

Cyrus didn’t remember what time he went to sleep, but he felt like he cried for hours after that. The pain in his chest beat him up completely until he was too weak to flip his pillow to the dry side.

At their graduation, Cyrus gave a speech and then walked off stage to everyone in the auditorium clapping. It felt surreal. When he looked up smiling, out of all of the people he saw in the sea of graduates, he saw TJ clapping. He had his lip curled up in one corner which showed that he was on the verge of tears. That was the only time that night Cyrus wanted to cry.

-

A month into USC and without a doubt, Cyrus was homesick and probably depressed. He had made a great group of friends that were similar to him and super positive. He appreciated them, but 8 out of 10 times, they could never convince him to leave his room. He just stayed in and did homework and work on his script. It was about a man who gets his heart shattered and decided to move to Mars as part of a science experiment and when he’s already in space, he realize that his ex is one of the 100 people on board. Things quickly escalate. His friends loved the scripts and always asked to read updates, but he still sent snippets to Bex because he missed her.

It had been months since the breakup with TJ that happened late April. He should be over it now, he thought a lot of the time. But it still hurt. TJ really shot a hole in his heart and there was nothing he could do about it. He didn’t cry everyday like he used to. But every other few weeks, he snuck into the bathroom to cry so his roommate wouldn’t see. It was embarrassing to admit.

Cyrus kept things in a rotation. Script, class, eat, homework, sometimes friends, and sleep. It was hard to stay happy and to enjoy himself. It was hard to feel like he was living through something when he’s been dead inside for months. With Halloween coming up, he felt even worse. He’s never not had anyone to match costumes with. For five years, him and TJ did a couple’s costume and before that, him, Buffy, and Andi always had something up their sleeves. He missed all of them.

Then one day, his roommate let one of his friends into their dorm room. His roommate was part of his friend group, so there was that. Cyrus was working on his infamous script and didn’t even get a text that he was coming. Usually, he said no, though. “Hey, Rich,” Cyrus said as he walked in.

“Hey, Cy,” he said. “I was in the building and wanted to drop by.”

“Why’d you text Karson and not me?” Cyrus asked.  

“You always say no.”

“True. Anyways, what’s up?”

“We need one more person for our Halloween costume. It’s Full House. We need an Uncle Jesse. You in?”

“Yeah,” Cyrus grinned, “of course.”

-

“Damn,” his friend Bogie said. “That TJ foo fucked you up bad, huh?” All eight of them were sitting around a bonfire before Thanksgiving break. It had been a long night of confessions and telling each other things not a lot of other people knew. Somehow in the moment, Cyrus spent thirty minutes telling them the becoming and downfall of him and TJ. Rich had convinced him to go to therapy on campus early November, and Cyrus wished he had gone sooner. It was getting so much easier to be around his friends and have open conversations.

“Yeah,” Cyrus admitted. “I cried everyday for months. I still cry sometimes.”

“Is that why you spend forever in the bathroom?” Karson asked him. Cyrus nodded.

“Damn, Cy,” Roxana mumbled, “no wonder you were so distant at the beginning of the school year. I thought you were just stuck up, but I guess I was wrong. I’m glad you trust us now, though.”

“Me, too,” Cyrus said.

“So, this TJ,” Bogie asked, “what’s he up to?”

“Besides knowing that he plays basketball for Midwest State U, I have no idea. I haven’t talked to him since I last texted him after the breakup. I’m still good friends with his sister, but she never says anything.”

“Dang, so he’s a baller?” Bogie asked.

“Probably just getting fucked up at parties,” Mikhenna suggested. Cyrus didn’t respond. He just shrugged.

“Do you still love him?” Roxana asked him.

“I don’t think so,” Cyrus shook his head. “I’d be stupid to. But thanks for listening, guys. I feel a lot better. I feel like I belong and that I can finally move on.”

-

Cyrus didn’t see the point of flying all the way back home for a week long break, so he decided to stay behind in California and take a train to his aunt and uncle’s place. They had a daughter that thirteen and always had juicy middle school drama.

When he was laying down on the bed of the guest room, his phone started vibrating. Buffy was on Facetime, and he answered immediately saying, “Hey, Buff.”

“Hey, Cyrus,” Buffy grinned widely before switching the camera, “look who’s with me!”

Andi waved at the camera, “Hey, Cyrus!”

“Andi,” Cyrus grinned. “How are you? We haven’t talked in like four days.”

“I know right,” Andi laughed. “I’m fine. What about you?”

“I’m good, I’m good,” he said before registering completely that Andi was in Shadyside. “Wait,” he paused, “aren’t you supposed to be in Pennsylvania?”

“Yeah but a professor died, so they gave us two weeks off instead of three days and just postponed winter break.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“I have no idea who he is,” Andi shrugged. “But where are you?”

“With my dad’s sister and her family. I’m just chilling and eating home made food before I go back,” Cyrus smiled. Andi moved over to sit next to Buffy and Cyrus noted that they were at the Mack’s place.

“So enough of that,” Buffy said and then looked at Andi who gave her a stern look. “Come on, let me tell him.”

“Well now you have to tell him,” Andi rolled his eyes.

“That’s very true,” Cyrus agreed.

“I know,” Buffy smirked. “That’s why I said that. Anyways,” she looked right at the camera, “we went to the mall with Amber in her car, but it broke down in the parking lot when we were leaving. She had to call TJ to come pick us up, which was already awkward enough because I always ignore him at school, but I was like whatever, it’s a twenty minute drive. Then in the car, literally, this man, I mean, boy, can ask any question. Any question in the world. Preferably, one directed at his sister, like you know, has your car been acting funky for a while? But he asks me and Andi, ‘How is Cyrus doing?’” Cyrus’ heart dropped. He hasn’t heard anything about TJ in so long he’s forgotten how to react.

“What did you say?” Cyrus asked nervously.

“I said that I charge $50 per fact,” Buffy said, “and he didn’t say anything else.”

“That’s weird,” Cyrus frowned. “I wonder why he doesn’t just ask Amber. I literally call her once a week, every Tuesday.”

“No idea,” Buffy said. “But maybe she just doesn’t answer him for the same reasons I didn’t.”

“Which are?”

“We love you.”

-

anyways follow my main @webarebares <3 thank you for reading! feel free to send asks if something was confusing or if a typo was horrible or just because. i luv u.

[queen-iduna-of-arendelle]

Love is an Open Door

For Agduna Week 2020, Day 2: Music; and Part 3 of my brand new ‘Single Mother’ Series

I had to cut a whole fic worth of story and info’s to write this, but don’t worry, part 2 will be written very very soon

ff.net  AO3

Saturday morning and Iduna is already wide awake and dug through her wardrobe. She knew she had a few hours till she’s gonna meet Agnarr —the whole day actually, since they’ll meet around 6pm— but she was just so excited. Actually she was always excited to meet him. But today’s date, he said, is gonna be something special, that just made her even more exciting.

The brunette tried on new outfits for the past hour and still couldn’t decide what to wear for the date. Should she wear something fancy or classic? Or just something she felt comfortable with? But what if he’s dressed fancy and then there’s she wearing a plain shirt and jeans? God, even after 2 years of dating this guy made her crazy! Though, she couldn’t say that she disliked it.

At some point she heard her phone buzzing on the table. She asked him if he could just tell her where they’re going and hopefully now came an answer. Well it was him, but it wasn’t the answer she wanted.

[Wolfy]: It’s a surprise

He ended it with a kissing smiley. Cute. But it’s not helping her! As she kept digging through her wardrobe, she found the dress that he bought for her. It was still weird to date someone as rich as him and at first she refused to accept the gift, but he insisted. He practically pushed the dress into her hands and refused to take it back. What a cute dork he was.

She decided to take this dress and match it with the necklace he also bought her. It was actually very embarrassing to get so many presents from him, while she’s unable to give him something back. Whenever she asked what he’d like for a present he said that being with her was the best present he could ever get. Which was even more embarrassing. But so very cute.

Satisfied with her decision, she put the dress on her bed, before cleaning up the mess she made. Once she was done, she went to the bathroom to have a long, cool shower to calm her nerves.

Once that was done as well and she felt refreshed and calmer than before it’s about to decide how she should style her hair. With the dress being half fancy, her hair could look classic. And so she dried her long hair with a hairdryer and began to braid them into one big ponytail. And her short fringe could stay like that.

Then she put on the dress. It was purple and had some nice accents that looked like crocuses. It just so happened to be her favorite flower, too. The necklace had a pendant in a shape of a hamster. It’s one of her favorite animals and he let it made especially for her. The hamster was covered with different gems that made it look fancier. It surely cost a fortune...And she did feel bad for accepting such an expensive gift. Then she put on a little bit of make-up and she was ready to go.

Just in time to meet Agnarr. Those times really made her realize how long she could take to look perfect for him. Even if he once said that she might as well meet him with bed hair and her most comfy clothes —which are clothes that are way too big for her�� and he’d still think she’s beautiful. Of course she’d never do such a thing. Then the doorbell rang and she quickly ran to the door and opened it. “Hey.” She greeted him cheerfully, opening the door wider.

Agnarr leaned down to give her a quick kiss, before accepting her offer to come in. “You look beautiful.” At his compliment, Iduna looked away, blushing and tugged a lose strand behind her ear. “Thanks. You look quite handsome yourself.”

“Thanks, my little crocus.” Then she was suddenly face to face with a bouquet. Iduna was surprised, actually always was, because after two years of dating he really didn't need to give her flowers when they went on a date.

Of course she always accepted the little gift. It was really sweet of him. She took the flowers. “Agnarr, you didn't have to—“

“Stop right there.” He interrupted her, as always and kissed her passionately. And, as always, Iduna was melting into the kiss. When they parted, she wanted to pull him back, but they had to go. “I'll...put them in a vase.” Somehow this is how every date started. But she wouldn't trade it for anything else in the world.

Iduna went to the kitchen to get a vase and heard Agnarr follow her. “So, where are we going?” She asked again, as she put the flowers in the vase and filled it with water.

“It's a secret.”

“Come one! Tell me!” The brunette pouted, something that always helped her to get anything she wanted from him. But it looked like it didn't work this time...

“Sorry, crocus, I can't. But I can tell you one thing.” Iduna tilted her head, telling him to continue. “I hope you don't mind...Destin and Halima will be there, too.”

“Oh, did he finally ask her out?” She asked, smiling brightly. “Of course I don't mind.” Destin Mattias was like a father figure for Agnarr. His real one wasn't...exactly the best father ever. He even tried to separate them at one point and always accused her that she's only dating Agnarr for his money. But she was really glad that Agnarr didn't believe it. And then Mattias was there and actually cared for Agnarr since he was a kid. Agnarr told her that he even called Mattias 'father', while he called Agnarr 'son'. It's both sweet and sad.

Same went for Halima. Agnarr's mother died soon after he was born and she was his mother figure. When he told her this story, she always wondered why Mattias and Halima weren't dating even thought they obviously loved each other and where already parents to Agnarr.

“Great. I promise, we'll have a lot of fun together.”

Iduna got on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “I always have fun with you, sunflower.” Agnarr blushed at the nickname, like always. He’s so cute. “Shall we go?”

Agnarr kissed her forehead, still blushing. “We shall.”

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

Agnarr drove them to a bar. At first she thought it’s just a normal bar, until they entered it. It was a karaoke bar. “No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Agnarr, no. There’s no way I’m gonna sing anything here.” It’s not like Iduna couldn’t sing. Her family, friends and Agnarr said she had a beautiful singing voice, but she was still very self-conscious about her singing.

“You’re singing great, birdy. You’re singing better than an angel.” He praised her, making her even more embarrassed.

“Don’t say such things...”

“But it’s true. Come on, my love. Destin and Halima will sing, too.” Iduna took a moment to think. Mattias wasn’t really the best singer either...and if he’s gonna be brave enough...“Okay.”

“Great! I love you! I promise you’ll have fun. I’ve got the perfect song for us!” Agnarr grinned at her excitedly, and Iduna couldn’t help but become excited as well.

“Some love duet from Disney?” She guessed.

“Of course!” The blonde gave her a peck on the lips, before looking for Mattias and Halima. They told Agnarr that they’re already here and got a good spot near the stage.

“Agnarr, Idy, over here!” Came Mattias voice and then they saw him waving at them. The man stood up to hug them. “Glad you could drag her in here, boy.” He said before letting them go again.

“Well I said it’s a surprise.” Explained Agnarr and looked at her sheepishly.

“Ah, I see, so she just found out?”

“Yes and I’m not happy about it.” Said Iduna and glared at her boyfriend playfully.

“Don’t worry, this is gonna be one of your best dates ever, I promise.”

“You guys promising me a good time is getting suspicious.” The brunette looked at the guys who looked like little boy who got caught taking a cookie.

“Will you believe me more when I say you’ll have a good time?” Asked Halima and hugged her.

“Yes.” Iduna hugged her back. “I’m glad that Mattias finally asked you out.” She said, as they sat down at their table.

“Me, too, sweetie. I thought he’d never ask.” The women laughed at the expense of the boys and they all were sure it’s gonna be like that the whole night.

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

For most of the time they drank, ate some snacks and talked about everything. The people that were on the stage were sometimes good, sometimes crazy, sometimes terribly bad, but every time Iduna was glad that she could wait with their performance longer.

Then it was Halima’s and Mattias’s turn on stage and they also chose a Disney song. It’s funny that all four of them were such crazy Disney fans. And if Mattias wasn’t there for Agnarr he’d surely think it’s just for kids, just like his father always told him.

The new couple sang A whole new World from Aladdin and even if Mattias wasn’t the best singer, he tried his best.

But sadly after them it was her and Agnarr’s turn. “Come on, birdy.” Said Agnarr, having to pull her from her chair and onto the stage.

“No, no...” She mumbled anxiously, even if she’s being encouraged by their mother and father figure and practically everyone in this bar.

“You can do it, my love. Just look at me.” Said the blonde, but it was hard concentrating on him when she knew so many people were staring at them.

They got their mics and their song was revealed: Love is an open Door from Disney’s movie The Snowqueen. It was both their favorite movie of all time and knew all lines and songs by heart. But it still didn't make her any less anxious. “Okay...Can I just...say something crazy?” Iduna began, as she music started.

“I love crazy.” Agnarr replied and then it really started. While they sang, Agnarr made sure that she was only looking at him and not at the crowd watching them. It actually made her forget their audience for the whole song.

“Can I say something crazy?” Said Agnarr as the song’s about to end. She knew how the song ended and she knew what she’s gonna say. She’ll say ‘Can I say something even crazier? God, no, are you insane? I don’t even know you!’

But he crushed her plan immediately by actually going down on one knee and pulling out a box with an actual, real engagement ring in it. “Will you marry me?”

Iduna stood there, frozen in shock that he actually pulled this on her. She couldn’t even talk properly. “Can...can I...can I say something...you know...crazier?” She stuttered, watching Agnarr nodding and waiting patiently for her answer. She only realized that she started to cry when a tear was already gliding down her cheek. Sniffling, she began anew. “Can I say something even crazier? Yes!”

The whole bar began to cheer for them, as Agnarr put the ring on her finger. Meanwhile Iduna was hiding her face behind her hand the whole time, too embarrassed to look at anyone. Once the ring was on her finger, she felt Agnarr hug her and lead her off the stage. The applause kept going till they were finally back at their table. “I can’t believe you did this!” Iduna said behind her hands. “I hate you!”

“I love you, too.” He said with such a loving voice and pulled her hands away from her face. Then their foreheads touched and his eyes sparkled happily and with a crazy amount of love in them. “Forgive me?”

Iduna looked away and then saw Mattias holding up his phone. “Wait. Are you filming this?!” She asked pulling away from Agnarr and trying to snatch the phone away from him. But it didn’t work. “Stop filming!” Obviously Agnarr didn’t mind at all that they’re being filmed, as he cupped her face and kissed her deeply. Meanwhile Iduna reached out to grab that stupid phone or at least cover them a bit.

[snifflesclifford]

Waiting for the Right Girl - Chris Evans

A/N: (this is for the anon who wanted friends to lovers) Hi this is the first fic i have wrote in over 3 years so be nice. Please let me know if you want a part 2! 

It was raining cats and dogs outside and there were no signs of stopping. The weather channel played softly in the background as you made your way to the kitchen to get another bottle of wine. You decided what was the harm since there was no way you would be driving home anytime soon in this weather. Chris had invited a bunch of friends over to his new house for a house warming party. You think it was more of an excuse to get help putting together the massive shelf he bought the day before but any excuse for free booze and you were there. The others luckily left before the storm hit, but you didn't mind. Chris’ house was more than accommodating for the two of you and it was a great opportunity for you two to catch up since he had been out of town on a shoot. 

You opened the door to the wine closet and stepped inside.  White or red? Chris would want white but the red paired better with the box of cheese-its you had been devouring. Red. You reached for the least expensive looking bottle and read the label, just as you thought, still expensive. Did he not have Boone’s Farm? 

“Hey, did you find one?” Chris practically yelled right behind you. You let out a yelp and dropped the probably more money than your car payment bottle and it shattered, splattering red everywhere . 

“What the fuck, how are you so big but so stealthy?” You ask clutching your chest. Chris bursts out laughing and you follow suit. 

“I’m sorry, its not my fault that you are literally the jumpiest person ever” He bends down to pick up the large pieces of glass and you try to help but he stops you. “Nah ah, I think you’ve done enough clutz,” he teases “why don't you go take a shower? You look like you’ve murdered at least four people. Help yourself to anything in the dresser.” 

You wanted to protest but a hot shower sounded pretty nice with the rainy weather so you agreed and tip-toed around the wine and headed upstairs to find the bathroom. It took longer than you would like to admit to get the shower to work but were you glad you did. It was literally the best shower you had ever stepped foot into. The second the hot water hit you all the tension you didn't even know you had went away. It was like taking a shower in the rainforest. You sighed as you smelled the body wash he had. Of course it would be perfect, everything about Chris is perfect. You took your time, not wanting the warmth to end. 

Eventually the water went cold, so you made your way out of the shower and looked around for what you could only assume was a fluffy warm cloud of a towel, only to find nothing. No towels. Shit. You popped your head out of the bathroom and looked around Chris’ monster sized bedroom. Once you saw the coast was clear, you darted out of the room and went to the dresser in search of something to cover your soaking body. But it was too late because just as you picked out an oversized shirt, Chris came barreling into the room holding a towel. You were frozen. You had nothing to shield you from this horror and Chris looked as though he had seen a ghost. 

“Um, can i have that?” You asked pointing to the gray towel in his hand. 

“Oh fuck, yeah, um. i realized I didn’t have any in the- here” His face turned a deep shade of scarlet as he held it out to you. 

His eyes dart down to your naked frame and you blush internally. You wrap the towel around yourself and stand there waiting for anything to happen. Literally anything. Chris was still beet red but you can see a noticeable bulge formed in his pants. He follows your eyes and immediately starts sputtering out what he thinks are words. 

“I- I mean, we. Um, you. I made some cookies. if you, they're chocolate chip. i’ll be, um downstairs. You can get dressed, shit. Sorry.” and with that he closes the door and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. What the fuck was that? You thought to yourself as you sat at the foot of his king sized bed. 

You had known Chris for two years, you were an intern at Fox while they filmed Gifted and you always had to fetch coffee and get him from his trailer. He asked you to help him run lines and you confessed that you always wanted to be an actor. The next day he brought you a coffee and said he dropped your name at a local theatre and that you had an audition on Tuesday. The rest was history. You had hung out almost every week for awhile helping each other rehearse or playing matchmaker to each others sad love lives. Then it turned into a few times a month when your schedules started to get more busy. It had been two months since the last time you had seen each other and here you were naked on his bed. 

You would be lying if you hadn’t thought about being naked on his bed, but that was just a fantasy. You were never single at the same time and you never really thought he saw you in that way. Did he see you that way? His body seemed to think of you in that way. You tossed those thoughts to the back of your mind as you got dressed and slowly made your way downstairs. 

You heard dishes clattering and a small curse come from the kitchen. Chris was still whispering to himself when you rounded the corner and saw him hovering over a plate full of cookies one in his hand and other hanging out of his mouth. 

“This would have never happened if you just put a new fucking towel in the bathroom, Evans. It’s a simple thing to do.” you could make out from his cookie filled mouth. 

“Hey” you make your presence known and his head shoots up. 

“Hey! Did you find everything okay?” 

“Uh, yeah! I mean apart from the whole towel thing.” you smile and take a seat at the island. 

“Yeah sorry again about that. Did i say sorry already? I’m sorry. Like really sorry.” He scratches the back of his neck and you can't help but notice the way the fabric of his crew neck stretches over his bicep. 

“Its really fine. It’s funny actually. I think it was funny.” You assure him and snag the cookie from his grip and he looks at you hurt. 

“That one was mine!”

“Yeah but it looks like the best one.” you take a big bite and he cracks smile. 

“You're something else.” he murmurs under his breath. “I’ll be right back.”

He walks into the living room and returns with a bottle of scotch and two glasses. You cock your eyebrow at him and he shrugs. 

“ I don't know about you but i need a drink.” he says as he pours two generous glasses and slides one your way. You down it in one swing and hiss at the burn. Scotch wasn't something you usually drank but it was a welcome change to all the wine you drank before. Chris adds a little more to your glass and takes a seat on the counter next to you. 

“So, what's new?” he casually asks and takes a sip, his eyes peering at you over his glass. You sighed at the question. Small talk wasnt really your thing. 

“Well, work has been slow. Not a lot of theatre companies looking for someone like this” you gesture to yourself and he scoffs. 

“What are you talking about? Have you seen yourself? Its their loss.” he doesn't meet your eyes and you're glad because he would see your blushing red cheeks. 

“Well either way auditions don’t pay bills. How was France?” You change the subject. 

“Good. Good. Long but good. You need to come with me next time. It’s gorgeous over there and the amount of bread they eat would make you feel right at home.” He nudges your ribs and you bust out laughing. 

“Hey, a girl eats an entire loaf of sourdough bread at 3am ONE TIME and she's the ‘bread girl.’” 

“it was really good bread.” He adds.

“Right?!” 

Your giggles die down and an awkward silence falls between you two and you take a drink. There was this looming cloud of weird between you and you hated it. Things were never weird between you. Things were always easy with Chris. 

“So whats the deal with Matt?” he snaps you out of your thoughts. “His brother said you guys broke up. I thought you really liked him.” you down the rest of your drink and shrug.

“Matt’s great! Just a little dull. It got boring that the rest of them. His thought of  a fun friday night was playing Catan at his cousins apartment and that isn't bad per se, but not for me. You know? Besides, I'm not the only one failing in the love department. Don't think i don't know you broke things off with Jess. She called me sobbing because you “couldn't do the distance” which I know is bullshit because you told me you were “weighing your options” two weeks before you went to Paris.” 

“You know me too well, it isn't fair.” he shakes his head “ I don't know. She was really nice and smoking hot.” You roll your eyes. “But she just was kind of... crazy? Is that mean?” 

“I mean...she was a little... off?” you try to find a better word but that's all you could come up with. She was insane. 

“i guess i’m just waiting for the right girl.” He said and places his glass on the counter. “I’m beat. I think i’m going to go to bed.” He hops off the counter and runs a hand over his face. 

“Oh, yeah me too. Where should i sleep?” you ask, not knowing where to go in the five bedroom house. 

“I’ll show you.” 

He took your hand and lead you up the stairs and showed you to a room not much smaller than his. It had beautiful four poster bed and forrest green sheets. It smells like him in there. 

“Wow.” is all you can say. 

“Is this good? You can take my bed. I dont know how this mattress is no one has slept on it.”

“No this is perfect.” 

You say your goodnights not before Chris asks you a thousand times if you need anything. Once he was satisfied that you were good he left for his room. You plop down on the bed and stare at the ceiling. Today was weird and you really didn't know why. It has you thinking about the way Chris would feel pressing against your back as you slept. and how he would wake you up with as soft kiss in the morning. You had never dared to entertain those thoughts before but now they're all you could think about. 

A/n: Hi this was getting kind of long so i thought I would split it up into two parts. Is that something you guys would want? Let me know! 

[etraytin]

Quarantine, Day 49

One more note on the weird time theme of yesterday; today I got an Amazon Question in my email from somebody wanting to know about a camcorder I bought twelve years ago. (It is obviously hella discontinued, but there are apparently a few third party sellers still.) For those of you who were not paying attention to camera technology in 2008, phone cameras were basically still bullshit unless you were willing to shell out a couple month's rent for your camera, which I was not. I had a flip phone until 2014, I shit you not. So phone cameras were not as much of a thing, but you could buy little pocket video cameras that ran on AA batteries and were about the size of an Iphone 5, but a little thicker. They had an internal memory of maybe an hour, and a USB port that popped out like a switchblade so you could upload it to your computer. They were, honestly, pretty cool in a dorky sort of way. I used that camera for early pictures of the kiddo, along with a tiny handheld camcorder-shaped camcorder that could do things like "let me see what I was recording even outdoors." It's long gone, of course, which is why it was so funny to see that question pop up today, someone apparently legitimately wondering about the focal length of a crappy little camera from another lifetime. I hope somebody actually knows the answer. 

The kittens are doing well today and I was able to secure some more formula for them. I am very excited because Amazon informs me that people have bought formula from my wish list and it is on the way (<3<3<3) but kitten formula is apparently not essential enough to make the journey very quickly. Luckily I now have enough for at least another three or four days. They’re eating a lot and gaining quite a bit of weight, so it’s worth being patient.

 I am, however, quickly losing patience with the vet tech at my rescue. Vet tech school doesn't actually include very much information about raising orphan kittens, by and large, and she has picked up some extremely...nonstandard... ideas about the state of the art. I don't claim to be an expert myself, but I've been doing it for a number of years now with pretty good success, and I have done a lot of reading, consulted with a lot of incredibly experienced people, and attended official training given by reputable agencies. What I'm trying to say is that my kitten-raising strategies are not uninformed and I didn't just make them up in my head, and getting constantly bitched out over them by text message got old about three litters ago. I probably could not have saved my littlest kitten this time even if the tech hadn't insisted that I not use Pedialyte even though it was recommended by the kitten raising experts that our own rescue brought in to teach us how to raise kittens, but I don't think not using it helped at all. And when I want to switch to a formula that literally everyone I speak to says is either superior to or at least equal to the kind we are already using, it is not appropriate to bite my head off and say that veterinarians don't approve of it because it causes vomiting and diarrhea, so I'd better stop using it quicklike. I devoted quite a bit of time today to looking for _any_ evidence of that opinion online, searching for articles online, reading product reviews, and asking other fosters. Nada.

I do my very best to be polite, and sometimes the tech can be very helpful, but too often it is this bullshit and I have trouble coping with it when usually I'm operating on way too little sleep already. The trouble is, the tech has a large amount of power over policy at the rescue, and not doing what she says could get me in trouble. Honestly, at this point I am losing interest in complying anyway. What are they going to do, take my kittens away when they are finally healthy and growing? And there are other rescues out there, and they always need bottlefeeders. It just sucks because other than that I really, really like my rescue and I do not want to leave. Ugh. At least with healthy kittens, I need to consult a lot less often. 

Anyway, enough of my personal cat lady drama. The kittens are doing really well and are incredibly fluffy, and that is the important part! Now that Jackie is no longer so far down she can barely swallow, I can keep her clean much more easily and she is starting to rival Rosa for adorable soft squishableness. I am, however, increasingly willing to bet that they are not actually siblings and Rosa is several days to a week older. She's just so much bigger, and has more teeth! It's okay, they still love each other. Also, letting the kiddo cuddle with them or read to them or supervise their playtime is a good little motivating tool to help him power through his schoolwork. Double bonus! 

The big, big,big grocery order came in today, and it was indeed large. I now have two boxes of staple foods to tuck away for hurricanes and/or societal difficulties, plus several cans of mackerel for trapping wily feral cats! Feral cats love mackerel, it just smells soooo bad. I decided that if I was going to lay in some extra meat, it was mostly going to be sausage and bacon, because that's the sort of meat where a little bit goes a long way in terms of enriching the flavor of a meal. I got some ground turkey and beef, but I also have textured vegetable protein in the pantry to stretch it for things like spaghetti sauce, tacos, and chili. And I scored two ultra-rare bags of 15 bean soup mix, so I can use my other hambone! You guys don't even understand how much I love ham and bean soup, or how exciting this is. The weird thing is, two weeks ago when I made my last pickup order, the pickup area was packed solid with cars, and cars were even waiting to get into the spots. Today, I was literally the only car there when my food came out. The parking lot was packed, it's just that everyone was shopping inside. Not a great sign. 

Definitely the most fun I had today was playing with the excellent West Wing gifset that @donnajosh​ made of Josh and Sam. Watching their faces made me laugh very hard, and I had to caption it. It was a whole face journey, made by two guys who would absolutely follow the Delta shuttle all the way to Indianapolis if they were not stopped. Too funny! Thank god for people on the internet, just being there and doing stuff and making all of this feel less lonely. 

[jadondonsancho]

12 Days Of Christmas- Day 3

Deck The Halls- Anyone you’d Like

The house was a mess, boxes everywhere. Some were his but most you’d brought with you when you moved in. The tree you’d both gone to pick out looking a little oversized in the living room but you loved it, and now came the small task of decorating.

The Christmas music was playing, the fire was burning and the mug in your hands was sending warmth through you. You eyed the tree closely, thinking and planning.

“Okay”, he sighed heavily behind you, “that’s all of them”

“Great!”, you turned, smiling as you scanned the mess of the living room. “lets get started shall we!”, you said enthusiastically, you’d been looking forward to this for ages, having moved in together 6 months ago, decorating the house together had been something you’d thought about quite a lot. But as per usual things didn’t exactly go to plan.

“so first things first, we need lights”, you said, immediately beginning to search through boxes.

‘Uhmmm...these ones?”, he asked holding up a ball of knotted lights, a mix of about four different strands. He eyed them suspiciously before raising an eyebrow at you.

“you’re kidding me”, you let out a deep sigh, there was literally nothing worse. “okay you get started on that and I’ll start looking for the decorations I need”

A good 20 minutes and a whole lot of complaining later, he’d finally managed to untangle one of the strands. In that time you’d laid out the specific baubles and tree decorations you wanted, always meticulous when it came to Christmas.

“Okay let me grab the ladder and then you can pass me the lights so I can string them onto the tree”, he said, finally getting enthusiastic as he no longer had to untangle lights.

Slowly you stated working away, handing him the lights as he wrapped them around the tree. The two of you chatting idly as Christmas songs played in the background.

“right, plug them in and see if any areas need more lights before I put this away”, he said gesturing towards the ladder.

You made your way to the base of the tree, grabbing the end of the string of lights and threading it towards the outlet nearby. “uhm babe? Slight problem...this is the broken outlet, we didn’t get it fixed yet right?”, you questioned. The outlet had blown a couple of weeks ago when you had plugged in new lamp you’d bought, plunging the house into darkness.

“oh fuck, yeah okay don’t plug it in there, it’ll blow the electrics again”, he replied.

“well yeah obviously” you scoffed “let me see if it reaches the other one”

It didn’t.

“well what the fuck do we do now?” you said, more to yourself than anything else. A little irritated by the inconvenience.

“relax” he laughed, “we have an extension cord”

He made his way down the ladder and out the living room, returning a few seconds later with the cord, much longer than needed but it would have to do for now.

“here”, he said handing you the one end, before plugging the other side into the wall. “light er up baby”, he exclaimed, laughing to himself.

The tree lit up instantly, a warm orangey glow filling the space.

I love it already!”, you exclaimed.

“yeah of course you do”, he said coming up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder.

“What do we do about this though?” you questioned pointing towards the extension cord.

“what about it? It works”, he replied

“yeah it works but I really want to plug it in that one so we need to get it fixed” he responded

“babe its fine the way it is, we don’t need that outlet right now”

“I’m not saying right now but I don’t particularly want an extension cord running through the whole house for a month” you sighed, “I’m gonna trip over it, you know me”

“well I’m a footballer not an electrician so i dont know what you want me to do about it at the moment”, he said

“seriously? I didnt say you need to fix it i just said we need to get it fixed. Like i said, not right now but I’m not having that extension cord the way it is until christmas.”

“okay, fair enpugh, ill call an electrician in the morning” he said, putting an end to the little argument, “can we please not have a domestic about godamn christmas lights and just get on with the tree?”

You laughed at that, the exasperated tone in his voice as if he really couldn’t believe you were at the point in your relationship where christmas lights cause arguments, but honestly there wasn’t anyone you’d rather want to be doing it with.

And thus began the evening you’d imagined. Careful decorating, stolen kisses and warm mugs. You directing as he placed some here and there, him lifting you up to place some higher up, ditching the ladder because he though it’d be funny. The christmas music now replaced by a movie, Elf playing for the 5th time so far this christmas.

A good three hours later and you two were finally done, him lifting you on his shoulders so you could place the star on the top.

“wow”, you said, taking a step back, admiring the beauty. You couldn’t quite find the words to describe the feeling of seeing your christmas tree all lit up in the living room of the house you shared with the love of your life. The feeling was magical as you stood together admiring the tree.

“well that only took 3 hours, 5 arguments and for us to make a complete mess of the living room”, he laughed

���shut up! Its pretty though so it was all worth it”, you couldn’t hold back your laugh either.

“all worth seeing how happy it makes you to be honest”, he said looking down at you, the christmas lights reflecting in his sincere eyes. You leant up for a kiss, a passionate but thoughtful one before murmuring a gentle “thank you” against his lips.

He smiled, “okay now comes the best part< cleaning up!” he sighed sarcastically, scanning the carnage of the living room.

“babe!” he said quickly.

“what?”

“you forgot the tinsel!” he was excitedly opening up a box you had purposely pushed to the other end of the room.

I dint ‘forget’ anything”, you said eyeing him carefully, “put that tacky string anywhere near my tree and i swear to god and breaking up with you”

Your words were threating but your tone playful.

“oh my god okay, disposing of it immediately!” he retorted, equally as playful.

The evening may not have gone totally to plan but in the end it was better than you could have ever imagined.

[unavenged-robin]

Juxtaposition - 3

Part 1 + Part 2

Tim hadn’t meant anything by it, honestly. He just happened to stumble into the kid while having a camera in his hands, and that was all. It hadn’t been his fault if Damian was too busy drawing and didn't notice him: the brat was supposed to be a baby ninja, after all. Another thing he was not responsible for was Damian being... photogenic. He would never use the word cute, not even to save his own life.

Point is, the kid was sitting there, under a tree, surrounded by his pets - Titus' big head on his leg, Alfred the cat curled up by his feet - his head bent over an old sketchbook, and a look of total focus on his face, and Tim didn’t even think about it, he raised the camera to his eye and took the photo.

Click.

Damian lifted his head, looking annoyed but not surprised. So maybe he had known about Tim being there. Maybe he just hadn’t care enough.

“Taking photos of people without their explicit consent is a felony, Drake”, he said, narrowing his eyes at Tim. “I could report you and have you arrested.”

Tim snorted and plopped down on the grass in front of the kid.

It was such a beautiful day. The sun was warm over the skin and the wind was like a gentle caress on the face. Even the colors looked like they were happy to exist; they were so intense they seemed to vibrate under his stare: the blue was so blue the sky could’ve very well been the ocean, the green was so green the whole garden could’ve been just one, giant new leaf of a young tree.

And Damian, Damian was a spot of red and black in all that green, like a tiny ladybug resting in the grass, and his eyes were also the greenest green Tim had seen for a while. He had smiled at the kid with a contented heart.

“You happen to be a minor, brat”, he reminded him with a bit of teasing in his voice. “And I'm listed as one of your legal guardians. That means that, until you're eighteen, I can pretty much do whatever I want with you.”

Damian looked up from his sketchbook to squint at him. His cheeks were sun-kissed and his nose was getting too red under the warm light of the afternoon, and Tim remembers how in that moment he had the sudden, shattering realization that he felt a not insignificant amount of affection for his brother. And that had not been the only time he’s ever felt that way, but it had perhaps been the first one.

Damian had dismissed him without a second thought.

“You are not my legal guardian.”

“I am too.”

The words stayed there for a moment, lingering between them, then Damian had frowned at him, out of curiosity more than outrage, Tim thought, as he choose to believe him.

“Why?”, he asked.

Tim turned his eyes away, lifting his face to observe the branches of the tree above them swaying slowly in the wind. He didn’t want to ruin the quiet.

“Because this family is a mess and Bruce wants to be sure that, if he decides to go take another stroll in the past again, you won't be left on your own”, he explained anyway. It was both a surreal and a serious affair, and they both knew it.

Damian had considered it for a moment, gnawing pensively at the tip of his pencil.

“I won't be left with you anyway”, he decided with a shrug. “You would have to go through Grayson's body to get me.”

Tim remembers how he had laughed at that.

“Yeah, that's true”, he had said. “Neither of us need to worry about it.”

*

Tim stares at the ceiling of his own bedroom like he expects some kind of answer coming down from there, along with a few friendly spiders he’s never had the time to chase away.

That afternoon used to be a good memory, once upon a time. Now it comes at him at night, haunting him with its bitter taste of unforeseen omen, and Tim wonders if Damian ever thinks about it, if he remembers it as clearly as he does.

He hopes not. He hopes that, at least for the kid, it’s not ruined.

There’s still some good stuff attached to that memory, though. Damian had wanted that photo, marched down to this very apartment to get it. And Tim had developed the film just for him, showed him how to do it and pretended not to notice how invested Damian was. That had been nice too: teaching the kid something new, something harmless they both enjoyed. Damian had let Tim guide his hands through the various proceedings, he had even obeyed every instruction with a minimum amount of huffs and scoffs. That had been another good day.

Fast forward, Tim hadn’t been there for Damian’s eleventh birthday, but he had bought him a camera and asked Alfred to pack it up in the most childish, colourful wrapping paper he could find, and to give it to the brat when he looked less willingly to throw it away without even bothering to unwrap it. And of course he hadn’t expected much in return, but to his surprise Damian had actually texted him a short and very formal thank you. That meant the little gremlin had loved the gift. Tim had been happy about it.

Those memories still makes him smile, even if now they leave a bitter aftertaste on his lips. Nice moments like those had been a rare thing, little pearls lost in the sand of the constant fights, the misunderstandings, and the mutual disinterest.

And now the world was all chaos and fragile things, and none of them really know what to do. Not Damian, freshly deprived of the only two father figures he had ever known; not Tim, who had found himself responsible for him; and sure enough not Jason, who had just got himself trapped in the whole mess.

Tim sighs and gets out of bed. The clock radio on the nightstand marks four o'clock in the morning, but there's no way he’s going back to sleep tonight, he's sure of that. Better to make some tea and keep working on tomorrow’s case. At least that’s the plan when he gets into the kitchen.

He goes as far as to put some water on the heat, then the memories of that afternoon comes back to needle him. There must be a box somewhere, filled with the photos from the first film he had developed for Damian, the first photos the kid had ever took in his life, as far as Tim knows. And e hadn't told Damian this - of course he hadn’t - but he'd made copies for himself. At the time he hadn't even ask himself why: he had just wanted to do it, so he had gone and done it.

He finds the box tucked away on the highest shelf of his library, covered by a thin layer of dust. Housekeeping’s never been his strongest suit.

A faint gurgling from the kitchen reminds him of the tea he was making. Tim retrieves it, pushes some jasmine leaves into the hot cup, then goes and sits on the couch. He shoots a quick look at Damian's room, but the door is closed and no light seeps from under it, no noise comes from the other side. The boy should be asleep.

For some reason he can’t explain, Tim feels a pang of guilt as he opens the box.

Damian’s photos are all there and Tim picks them up with a smile. It's funny looking at his family through the kid's eyes: everyone looks a lot taller, everything seems bigger. It's a bit of a déjà-vu, because Tim remembers well enough how the world looks like on a child scale.

The first bunch of photos are reserved to Damian's pet, of course. Here’s Titus, sleeping on the library’s rug or sitting at Damian’s feet, and Alfred the cat curled up on the windowsill. There’s Batcow eating some grass in the back of their courtyard, Goliath with its wings spread out, getting ready to fly. Tim knows Damian misses them. He wish he could at least give them back to him but he has no space for pets in his apartment, and they can’t go home anyway.

He puts those photos aside, and the next one hits him like a fist in the stomach. Here, in front of him, there’s Dick. He's smiling down, his lips upturned, the affection so clear in his eyes. Tim tries to imagine whatever absurd excuse Damian had tried to made up to justify his wish to have a picture of him, and he can’t think of anything, but it’s pretty obvious that Dick had seen right through the kid.

Damian is the subject of the next photo. Even if it hadn't came up right after Dick's one, Tim would've known anyway that Dick was the one who took it. It's the expression on Damian's face to give it away, that little not-really-annoyed-but-pretending-to-be-anyway scowl that holds the same affection of Dick's smile. He can see that moment so clearly in his mind. How Dick would’ve said something like you can take a picture of me only if I can take a picture of you, and Damian would’ve rolled his eyes and then indulge the blackmail with a secret happiness.

He laughs heartily at the following four photos. They are a set of unfocused, very awkward selfies of Damian and Stephanie, with her being the head of the operation, since Damian's arms would be too short to even attempt it. Damian’s glaring in the first photo and openly laughing in the last one, and Stephanie had been quick, albeit a little imprecise, at capturing that moment. The result is a blurry picture with a very strange angle, but it’s still one of Tim’s favorite.

There are a lot of pictures of Bruce. At first they were taken from a distance, and they portray him from behind, or busy doing something else: bending over his desk to write a letter, sitting in the armchair reading a book, standing in the kitchen with Alfred sipping a tea. They all give the idea of stolen moments, even if Bruce had probably known what the kid was doing. Tim could see him playing along, waiting for Damian to decide what worked best for him.

And of course Damian had eventually decided to make Bruce a part of the new hobby. The other shots still have a formal setting, very different from the spontaneity of the photos of Dick and Stephanie, but Bruce smiles in almost all of them and there’s a complicity and a quiet happiness that makes Tim’s heart ache. He misses Bruce. And he can only imagine how much Damian’s missing him too, how all this time apart is affecting him, his memories, his relationship with Bruce.

Tim brushes a cold fingertip over the pictures and wishes he could fix, if not everything, at least some of it. They can’t have Dick back, but Bruce is still there, still alive, and breathing, and living a life that doesn’t include them anymore, and if anything, it hurts almost as much as believing him to be dead.

He takes a quick look at all the photos again and he wonders how it is possible that none of them ever realized how important those moments were, how much they would have missed them once they were gone. For all the unspoken things and the cruel past, for all the miscommunications and the fights and the bickering, the truth of what there used to be between them as a family it’s just there in his hands: it was love, love and nothing else.

He hopes that Damian can see it too.

He flips through the pictures one last time, and this time he’s forced to notice how there are no photos of himself, or of Jason, for that matter. It shouldn't have been unexpected, but it stings anyway, even if only a little bit.

Tim’s considering what to do with the photos, if put them in their box and hide it again, or leave everything here on the coffee table for Damian to find, when he hears soft footsteps behind his back and the decision is taken out of his hands.

“Hey”, he says when the kid circumnavigates the couch to come standing in front of him.

“Want some tea?”, Tim offers, lifting his own cup.

Damian shakes his head no and curls up next to Tim, tucking his bare feet under him. He looks still half asleep, which is kind of a blessing right now. Tim has a good feeling about how Damian will take the news of the existence of those illegitimate copies of his pictures, but you never know.

“Mine are still in my room back at home, I believe”, Damian whispers, as he reaches out for the box. Tim lets him have it, and watches him closely as the boy collects all the pictures in his hands.

“Alfred would never let anyone touch your room while you’re away”, he reassures him, and since Damian’s just got to the picture of Dick, he slings an arm around the boy’s shoulders and pulls him closer.

“We’re going to need an album for them”, he says gently. “Like one of those Alfred has back home. We can make a new family album or something. Show it to him once everything goes back to normal, you know?”

Damian nods as he leans against Tim’s chest. He’s still warm from the bed, and his hair is a mess, but also soft under Tim’s chin. He’s wearing one of Jason’s old shirt because for the second week in a row Tim forgot to do the laundry, and he smells like Dick’s aftershave because that’s what Jason’s using now.

Tim holds Damian a bit closer. They are all trying to pick up the pieces as best as they can. It’s not easy.

“We could go to the park tomorrow”, he adds, because why not. “Bring Jason with us. Take some new photos for your album. What do you say?”

Damian moves closer to him, eyes still transfixed on Dick’s face.

“Yes”, he answers softly. “I would like that.”

[olaf-likeswarmhugs]

Olaf’s Frozen Adventure Part 1 || Chapter One: September 29th

A/N: So...how did Olaf end up in Swynlake?! The journey began months ago! Things sure are changing in the Icelandic Hollow, and the more they do, the more Olaf has to question. Part One will be told in a series of text conversations between Sindri and Olaf. 

@huldufolk-hjarn​

September 29th

Sindri: when are you going to come rescue me

Olaf: oh no! WHAT IS WRONG Olaf: WHAT MUST I PROTECT YOU FROM THIS TIME

Sindri: boredom Sindri: capitalism Sindri: the sun

Olaf: i will fight the sun at once D< Olaf: i cant fight capitalism though because its a human concept and it confuses me!

 Sindri: because its confusing and stupid Sindri: I didnt tell you yet because I wasnt totally sure but I made a friend Sindri: I think

Olaf: oh??? Olaf: hoppin hailstorms sindri thats amazing!! Olaf: WHO IS THIS FRIEND Olaf: ARE THEY NICE Olaf: where'd you meet? oooo is it the pizza delivery person Olaf: i have always wanted to meet and befriend a real life pizza delivery person

 Sindri: I cant afford pizza so I havent met one of those yet lol Sindri: hes a pixie Sindri: fast-flying Sindri: hes pretty nice. I did find out hes a lot younger than me but I dont think that really matters hes cool and he made me laugh in the supermarket which is a big deal because I hate it there.

Olaf: a pixie? ooooo from the local hollow Olaf: have you gone there yet to find a part time job?? Olaf: i worry you'll run out of pixie dust tell me you asked D:

Sindri: sort of Sindri: im just sort of mad I will have to have two jobs and go to school Sindri: I'll be okay tho probably I dont use a whole lot altho I did go to the hollow recently and that kind of took a good chunk

Sindri: also einar misses you [image of sad pup]

Olaf: EINAR Olaf: i am kissing the bright screen of my mobile telephone device! ahhh its like i can hear his boofs Olaf: wait that distracted me Olaf: 1. what do you mean SORT OF Olaf: 2. I want to hear more about the pixie friend! is he like you? Another Mr. Degree Go-Getter?

Sindri: I didnt ask yet because I'm afraid to Sindri: hes not because hes still in secondary but I mean technically he goes to school so that counts right

Olaf: AHHHH SINDRI should i call their queen on my mobile telephone device?? i will ask for you! Olaf: and what is secondary

Sindri: hes 15 Sindri: and I dont think she has a phone but even if she did then no lol

Olaf: okay but what is secondary?

Sindri: its school like what I'm doing but all the kids have to go until they are like 17 Sindri: olaf did you know humans use tigers to sell breakfast cereal and that cereal is called frosted flakes and it's not even cold

Olaf: wait what are the tigers doing? Olaf: how do they train tigers to sell cereal?

Sindri: well its a cartoon tiger and he wears a scarf

Olaf: oh is he cold? Olaf: because the flakes are frosted? Olaf: oh you said it wasnt though...

Sindri: no its not!! Sindri: and it's not a winter scarf it's like a bandana? I think it's supposed to be stylish? Sindri: if they are gonna put clothes on him it should be pants to be honest

Olaf: sindri that makes no sense Olaf: why would a tiger wear pants

Sindri: WHY IS HE ON THE BOX IN THE FIRST PLACE OLAF

Olaf: maybe he likes cereal! 

Sindri: his nose is blue maybe he is cold

Olaf: oh he's handsome!

Sindri: no

Olaf: i think he's handsome ;3 Olaf: hehehe Olaf: ok im teasing you

Sindri: hes terrifying why is he on my ceral

Olaf: is it good cereal Olaf: i bet its tasty

Sindri: it's really sweet it doesnt taste like corn at all

Olaf: why would it taste like corn Olaf: its...what is a flake actually

Sindri: because they are "corn flakes"

Olaf: if its not a snowflake... Olaf: how does corn come in a flake Olaf: OH Olaf: OH I GOT IT Olaf: the tiger is a corn-flake-talent-fairy! Olaf: there must be fairies who can make flakes of corn!

Sindri: that doesnt exist

Olaf: imagine a cornstorm Olaf: RAINING CORN

Sindri: also hes a tiger

Olaf: well maybe he's a tiger with corn-flake-talent abilities Olaf: there's a talent for everything! Olaf: even turning corn into flakes! Olaf: do you wanna hear about what i ate today!!

Sindri: was it corn flakes

Olaf: no Olaf: [takes a picture of his food because he Would and its like a seafood stew] mmmmmm Olaf: I helped pick out the bones from the trout :3

Sindri: wow I want some of that Sindri: do you wanna know what I ate today Sindri: dry ramen Sindri: OLAF Sindri: OLAFFFFF

Olaf: what!

Sindri: the tiger's name Sindri: guess what it is

Olaf: cornboy Olaf: he's a good cornboy

Sindri: first of all no dont ever say that Sindri: ITS TONY Sindri: TONY THE TIGER

Olaf: really????? Olaf: i would have never guessed that! Olaf: wow! Olaf: Tony the good cornboy!

Sindri: stop

Olaf: what do you have against tony Olaf: you bought his cereal!

Sindri: yeah I did and it was expensive Sindri: Tony is a greedy capitalist

Olaf: ah then i have to fight him :/ Olaf: my corn buddy no more :/

Sindri: I miss you

Olaf: i miss you too! Olaf: this mobile telephone device does not respond to my hugs as warmly Olaf: im hugging it as soon as i send this message though okay so you hug yours too ready go!

Sindri:  ❤️

Olaf:  ❤️

Olaf: when are you done again?

Sindri: this is my first year and there are four

Olaf: ohhhh right Olaf: you told me that Olaf: thats very long! wow

Sindri: yeah it's too long you need to come visit me

Olaf: thats 16 seasons Olaf: i want to, im just scared of the planes... Olaf: i dont know how you did it Olaf: oh and the car to get to the plane

Sindri: it's not that bad I think you could do it Sindri: oh I didnt tell you but my friend Sindri: hes korean and he taught me some of the language

Olaf: wait IM KOREAN

Sindri: I'm sindri hyung now. And he taught me how to say hi

Olaf: wow thats so cool

Sindri: I taught him some icelandic

Olaf: no naughty words i hope

Sindri: and he has two names Sindri: nemo and nam-min Sindri: I'm boring tho I'm just sindri Sindri: can I change your name to cornboy

Olaf: YES Olaf: nemo is cute! does it mean anything

Sindri: I dont know I should ask him Sindri: he probably wont answer for awhile hes grounded

Olaf: ooooo Olaf: is he a bad influence Olaf: did u befriend a bad boy

Sindri: I dont think so? He seems really sweet kinda innocent... Sindri: his dad is nice too you would like him he cooks

Olaf: oh is he a kitchen-talent?

Sindri: healing

Olaf: oh that is not a kitchen talent Olaf: but cooking is very impressive then

Sindri: what did you have to do today speaking of talents

Olaf: bone-picking-talent remember Olaf: i picked out bones for the fish stew

Sindri: you should just cuddle people because I miss your cuddles a lot I think they are magic

Olaf: ahaha well maybe someday someone will need cuddling and i will be there! Olaf: tomorrow Im going to help the messaging fairies i think Olaf: that'll be fun, i'm excited about it. Lots of exercise

Sindri: that'll be fun!

Olaf: yeah, i'll get to talk with a lot of fairies Olaf: ooo i can bring them a message from YOU Olaf: do you want ot say hi to anybody??

Sindri: just tell everyone you give a message to anyway that I said hi Sindri: except viktor

Olaf: yeah viktor can melt off! Olaf: why do we not like viktor again

Sindri: he pushed you into that puddle that one time! I know you were getting in anyway but that was really mean!

Olaf: oh he meant it as a joke! Olaf: or maybe i was too slow Olaf: i dont remember that was a long day Olaf: ahah so many puddles

Sindri: it was mean :/

Olaf: oh i thought it was funny Olaf: you worry too much sindri i was fine

 Sindri: counterpoint: you dont worry enough

Olaf: whats there to worry about? Olaf: it was my slush-puddle-talent day! and you were there too, to pull me out if i needed it.

Sindri: yeah I guess

Olaf: as long as you're with me, there's nothin to fear! Olaf: i know technically you're not with me now Olaf: but theres still nothing to fear! Olaf: because its LIKE you're here with me Olaf: I just think, oh what would sindri do

 Sindri:  😭

Olaf:  😊

Sindri:  😭 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭

Olaf: hey sindri? Olaf: whenever you're scared Olaf: you should think what would olaf do! too

Sindri [unsent]: I do that already Sindri: I might die tho

Olaf: you wont die Olaf: you rode a plane so you can do anything now

Sindri: you're way braver than me that's how I know you could fly in a plane :) Sindri: his name means graceful boy which honestly is true. He dances

Olaf: thats a pretty name Olaf: did you know my name means king! Olaf: you did i just like reminding you i am royalty

Sindri: yeah well I sparkle and that's way cooler lol

[pbandjesse]

It's a little sad we didn't get to go couch shopping today but it was an excellent day and I got a lot accomplished for moving. I slept okay. D&D last night ended not too late. And me and James went to bed. We woke up around 8:30 and he was very tired. But I had more energy and I really wanted to get some stuff accomplished since he was going to work. He made us breakfast and I got dressed. And then once we had eaten we packed up a whole bunch of stuff in the kitchen. I worked on stuff in the bathroom and we kind of made a game plan. I would go over to the new apartment after walking him to work. I would buy some clearance markers that are my favorite kind of brush pen and go work for a few hours to get the place ready for being moved into tomorrow.

So we packed and around 10:30 ish we left. Got over to darts or and every night for the clearance section. Talked a couple of James co-workers. And I bought like 15 Mercury. They're really nice and all the colors are very pretty. Actually might go back and buy a couple more because there was some thinks that I didn't get. And they're like 75% off if not more. And I want to try to start drawing more so this was a very good like serendipitous thing to happen.

I left James there and hoped he had a good day at work. And I biked over to the new place. Still having trouble with my key in the front door. I think I've kind of figured out the way you have to put it in and turn as you pull out to get it to do it. I'm going to have to ask Vistaril. Because it makes me crazy. I'm always afraid of me to break my key in the lock.

The event was pretty dirty. I'm going to admit that. The floors were really gross and the Cowboys disgusting. I turn the air conditioning really hot. I don't know why I was so overheated but I was very uncomfortable. Once I cool down I walk around the apartment and just made notes of things that I want to address. The window in the bathroom is painted shut the bedroom doesn't have a screen in the window. The hallway window is also painted shut. And I also wasn't sure if we had a medicine cabinet. And it turns out we do but it's painted shut I was able to pry off the bottom part and I can tell it opens but the top part I just couldn't get leverage on. I'm hoping if I get like a claw hammer or something I'll be able to pull it off. We'll see. I'm has terrified and excited that something cool inside of it. Or like just a dead mouse.

I have first Dustin a whole bunch. Trying to get on top list of stuff and just make sure it wasn't filthy. I dry Swiffer and all the florist. Took like four Swiffer pads because it was really dirty. The room I'm going to be using as my studio I think with someone else's Studio before because the floor was real dirty and I think it was charcoal. And once I finish that I took a break and I sprayed the bathroom down with Clorox. That ended up not working as well as I was hoping it was and later in the day I went to Rite Aid to buy a stronger bathtub cleaner. Because my God the top was dirty. The whole bathroom was dirty but the tub specifically was filthy. Very scummy. I spent a good two hours today scrubbing the tub. But it finally feels clean and I'm hoping to keep it that way.

I went through with the four wet Swiffer pads I had. But I'm going to have to buy more. I was able to get me apartments for pretty clean though. I still think I'm going to go over it after all the stuff's in and then it'll just kind of be what it is but it did take a lot.

I also put googly eyes on the microwave and the fridge. But the one googly are on the fridge won't stay on so I'm going to have to get some tape. But it looks very funny. I hope Mr will gets a kick out of it when he comes to install the microwave.

I did a lot of cleaning though. The tub took so much time and I was very exhausted. Halfway through the day I walked over to the grocery store and the Rite Aid and checked out the hardware store. I am going to have to go to the hardware store to get bolts to fix my desk and I want to get like a latch lock for the bathroom because the door doesn't stay closed and just other weird odds and ends. Had a snack and hung out in front of the air conditioner. I drew in my notebook for a little while and I was there until about 2:30 or 3. It was a good long day over there. But I'm really excited. It's such a nice space and I can't wait to have all of our stuff in it and just be decorating into making it really really beautiful. And really really us.

Oh and I left there I was pretty tired but I decided to explore the neighborhood just a little bit. I found the coffee shop and I went to the park to see what that was like. There's a flower garden over there. I think it used to be a dog run but now it has a sign that says no dogs allowed. Makes me think of no dogs in the dog park. Made me laugh. And then I came back here to the studio.

I got back here and I heated up some of the Chipotle from yesterday and made a burrito. Went through the fridge and threw out some stuff that we didn't need and had gone bad. We have like two bottles of sriracha going right now. And like a 75000 hot sauces that I've never seen James use at all. But it's fine. We'll get everything organized. The new fridge is a lot better space-wise I think bull be able to use and get rid of a little bit more effectively.

I decided to dye my hair. I used the blue and Sapphire died that I bought at Sally Beauty the other guy. I used most of the two tubes and just absolutely tried to saturate my hair as much as I could. Rinsing it out took absolutely forever but I think I got most of it. I might have to wash my hair again tomorrow but that's okay. It'll be at the new place. The one good thing about renting my hair in the tub here at the studio was that the tub was filthy and it let me see where the soap scum was easier. So it was easy to clean off.

Once the temples clean I took a bath and then I got out and I've been hanging out with sweet pea. James should be heading home from work soon. I might ask you to stop and pick up sandwiches. I don't have a lot of things that we can use to cook anything right now. But that's fine. We'll figure it out.

Tomorrow is official Moving Day. We are going to be getting a U-Haul and moving all my stuff from the garage and as much stuff from over here as James and his friends can handle. I will be at the BMI twerking. I think that's probably for the best because I'm not that strong and I feel like I might just be in the way. So what will happen was I'll come to the new place when I'm done work and I will organize and start putting things away where they're supposed to go. And hoping that around then they will be finishing up bringing stuff in. But we'll see. I just don't want to do it all exhaust themselves and I'm hoping that because James is good at managing people it'll all go smoothly and easily.

I always use a kind of bothering me right now so I'm going to go eyedrops in and I'm just going to hang out. James is supposed to be bringing back some more boxes and I'm hoping that we can get most of if not all of the stuff that we need to tonight. So that he can just grab it tomorrow. I want him to have to come back here to pick up stuff in his parents car as little as possible because parking in front of this building is impossible. So wish us luck. Good night everyone. Have fun tomorrow.