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ellana-ravenwood · 4 years ago

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Sick Day - Batfam x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : It’s never fun to be sick. Duh. But when you have loving parents there to take care of you, maybe it isn’t so bad ? Just short little snippets of the first time each Batkids fell ill in Wayne Manor, and how Bruce and his wife (you :D) dealt with it.

Another “burst of the moment inspiration” story, just a little drabble. Promise I’ll post something more elaborate soon :), hope you’ll like it :

My master list blog : @ella-ravenwood-archives

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(Thanks to that anon who mentioned the kids getting shots, that gave me with this an idea on how to start this fic :D. The original beginning was different, I think I like that one better hehe.)

"Mister Wayne, if you keep doing this, I'm not going to be able to give your son-Bruce for god's sake !"

Leslie Thompkins, for the first time in her long career, was about to lose her patience and give up on...giving a simple shot to a baby.

She has seen worried parents before, of course. The one that clung to their child’s hand, or those who would cry because their little one was in pain…

Babies that young, who had to get vaccinated for the first time, never really experienced this sort of quick pain before.

A lot of them would cry more out of surprise than because it really hurt. Oh and when the parents were extra worried, you could be sure the baby was even more likely to burst into tears, sensing his parents' distress.

Yes. doctor Thompkins gave shots to a LOT of babies, and saw a LOT of worried parents before…But never had she met someone quite like Bruce Wayne.

He always came to her when his kids were sick. He could go to a fancier office, or to one of those pricy fancy private hospitals. But no.

No because, when it came to his kids’ health, there was no one he trusted more than Doctor Leslie Thompkins.

So it was no surprise when he brought his youngest son, Thomas, to get his first shot ever. What was a surprise though, was his reaction.

"And now you know why I'm always the only one in the room when this happens."

You say, smiling apologetically to the doctor. But ah, at least your husband's reaction eased a little the tension in your body brought by the mere idea of your baby being hurt.

Every single time Leslie got the syringe close to your little one, Bruce would reflexively grab her wrist and stop her from giving the shot to his son.

Ridiculous, really.

But it seemed it was something he couldn't fight.

He apologized the first time he did it, as Dr Thompskins smiled and said it was ok, rather amused. But then the second time, it was getting clear he didn't seem to quite control himself. At the third time Bruce was visibly sweating. Dr Thompkins finally snapped as she tried for a fourth and fifth time to give a shot to little Thomas (who, at barely 2 months old, was much too young to even understand what was happening, but by his little smiles it was clear he was happy every time his father would come into his vision).

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just…I thought I could do it, but I can't."

And oh. Oh it's adorable the way he turns to you, his eyes saying "I'm sorry" as he takes his son back in his arms and holds him against his chest. You weren’t sure if it was to comfort little Tommy, or if he was comforting himself.

"I think I should just let you two handle this ?" He asks, unsure. He doesn’t want you to be mad or to think he’s abandoning you.

"I think this is a good idea Bruce, yes."

You smile at him reassuringly. It’s fine. It was always fine.

"I'm sorry, sorry I'm letting you do this alone once again. I just can't…"

"Oh it's ok my Broosh, I know you hate shots. I can handle it, and little buddy here sure can too."

Thomas coos happily as you pick him up delicately from his father's arms. Bruce resists a bit, before finally giving in and letting you take hold of the little one.

He lays a hand on his son's head, looking fondly at him (of this look he only gives his children, of this pure look full of unconditional love, and a hint of “what did I do to deserve this sort of happiness ?”) and then sighs, press a soft kiss to your forehead, murmuring a last “I’m sorry, my love” and leaves the room.

He feels a little ashamed to let you do this once again, but you've always been the strongest one out of the two. After all, you willingly decided to marry a man like him…

"Alright Mrs Wayne, ready ? And here we-oh not you too (Y/N) !"

"I'm sorry I'm sorry, I don't know what took over me, it was just a reflex too !"

You apologize, as you let go of the doctor's wrist…

Yeah, it was just a gut reaction to seeing a scary needle approaching your baby's thigh. In your line of um, nightly work, you came to be very wary, of syringes. You still remember vividly that time Tim got hit with one of Scarecrows’ needle, and how terrible this night had been...

"Ok ok, now is fine. Go. I'm ready. Go fast though, now. Now I’m not looking. Go. Go. Go."

Tears welling up in your eyes at the mere thought of this happening, you look away as you hold your son still (something he doesn't like as clearly shown by his little sound of protest, and as he starts to fuss about), and in one, two seconds…it's done.

And not a peep from your son.

He just stopped making any sound (he've always been rather vocal), his eyes went wide, and he made a face that looked like he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to cry or not. Then there’s one more second, and Leslie had a soothing bandaid on his little leg, and you were holding him against your heart, and the pain was so fleeting and already gone, that he just gets over it quickly, feeling your love.

Calming down instantly, not noticing the tears in your eyes (thank god, or it’d be a sure way to make him weep too).

And so he doesn't cry. And everything is ok again.

“Well, that wasn’t so hard, was it ?”

“Actually, it was.”

You say, barely holding your tears in, your son cooing in your arms

“Um...I was talking to Thomas.”

Leslie answers, amused. And just like that, you both burst into laughter.

After a few minutes of this uncontrollable fit of giggles, you thank Leslie for her help, and leave the room, joining your husband who had been walking back and forth in the waiting room, nervous.

He comes immediately to you and Thomas, and as soon as the boy sees his dad he smiles widely and giggles. Bruce gives him a soft smile, before turning to you :

“How was it ?”

“For me ? Not great. For Tommy ? He didn’t even utter a sound. Our little guy is brave !”

You kiss your son on his forehead, and he giggles and coos even more. There’s a short silence, before Bruce says :

“I’m sorry...”

And then he takes you in his arms, sandwiching little Thomas who’s protesting a bit. Damn, his parents could be so clingy !

“It’s ok my Broosh, I already told you. It’s ok.”

You sort of knew since you stepped into the doctor’s room that you’d end up being the one having to hold your boy anyway.

You knew oh too well how squeamish he was whenever HE had to get a shot done (and oh who would’ve thought the big bad bat hated getting shots so much uh ? You were pretty sure he would rather getting actually shot than take a tiny needle in his arm any day of the week...Alfred always had to fight with him to inject anesthesia when treating him for wounds). It was actually sort of a requirement, that you’d be next to him to give him your hand when he absolutely had to get a shot.

So understandably so, he always skipped on his children’s vaccins. He just couldn’t bear to see anyone he cared for to get that very things he hated so much, it just made him feel ill.

And you’ve always been fine with this. Since that very first day when you took Dick there...But Bruce always felt bad.

Because whenever you’d get out of the doctor’s office, you’d have fresh tears in your eyes, because you were just too pure for this world (is what Damian would say).

Dick always took advantage of this. He was never really scared of shots, and thought they didn’t really hurt...But oh, oh he would always cry a river of crocodile tears just so he’d get extra cuddles and ice cream.

And then, that cheeky little bugger passed that knowledge of “when we get shots, or we get sick, the parents literally let us do WHATEVER we want !” to his little siblings (you were actually pretty sure your kids would pass secret ways to manipulate you and Bruce along to their younger siblings and..you were oddly fine with it. You loved those kids too much to care, really).

This thought reminded you of that very first time Dick fell sick, shortly after you and Bruce officially adopted him.

And how much you guys freaked out.

It was both a pleasant, and terrible memory.

And oh. Oh you already dreaded the day Thomas would have his first real fever...You still remembered how it happened, with all your other children.

“What is it ?” Bruce asks, always knowing when something was on your mind. And so you say : “Nothing bad, this just reminds me of when Dick got sick for the first time while with us...”

A light of recognition ignited in Bruce’s eyes, he knew exactly what you were talking about.

Bruce only had fond memories of when he was sick and his mom and dad would take care of him.

He thought they were the best, wether they’d hold a “barf-bucket” for him, or stay up all night because he was too feverish...

What he never realized though, is that having a sick child was actually absolutely terrifying ! Bruce often felt sick himself, when the kids were ill.....ah, but nothing ever beats those first time each of them got sick.

DICK

Dick wasn't as young as Thomas, when he first came into your life. None of them were. But he was still a cute little bean, your baby.

Eight years old, and oh so sweet and nice and cute and you could just squish his little cheeks all day (albeit from the few outburst of anger at times, but hey, he was but a child, every kid throw tantrum from times to times).

He had been living with you and Bruce in the Manor for the past six months, when you had your first fright, and realized that being a parent meant being worried about your kid's well being for the rest of your days

Dick was definitely a tiny kid when he came in your life. He was rather short, only having a growth spurt when he was around 14/15. Barbara Gordon used to tease him to no end about this, up until he finally caught up with her and ended up being taller.

But yes, his small stature for his age, maybe made you baby him even more than the others, sometimes.

Ah. That first time little Dick Grayson was sick at Wayne Manor.

You. Freaked. The. Fuck. OUT.

You and Bruce, both.

Coincidentally, Dick became ill ON THE ONLY FEW DAYS OFF ALFRED WOULD TAKE A YEAR !!

Every year, for a theater festival, Alfred would take off to his homeland, to England, in London to be exact, for but a few days.

The three of you were in the batcave. Bruce was getting ready to go out, while you were on the bat computer and Dick was training on the side, doing some acrobatics on the trampoline Bruce installed.

And then he came to you, pulling on your sleeve, and he was so pale...

“I don’t feel too well.”

He said, right before throwing up for a few way too long seconds, as tears welled up in his eyes...it was never nice to throw up, and once again, no matter how mature he acted, you were reminded that Dick was but an eight year old child.

But he wasn’t only crying because throwing up fucking sucked. He was also crying because he thought you were going to be mad at him.

You reassured him, as you cleaned his little face up, and Bruce (who looked quite green himself...later on, you’d discover than when his kids or you were sick, he felt sick too...quite a strong reaction, really) carried him upstairs.

You were frantically googling how to take care of a sick child, as Bruce stayed with Dick, holding a bark bucket to his face, and drawing soothing circles on his back with his hand.

The panic dumbed the both of you down. It seemed like you couldn’t think, as you tried to make Dick as comfortable as he could.

You could feel your anxiety blowing through the roof, and knew that Bruce was close to have a panic attack himself (he was prone to them, although you and Alfred were the only one who knew).

You didn’t know what was worst, the fact he was sick and had no idea what you were supposed to do, or how much Dick was sobbing and apologizing.

“Should we call Dr. Thompkins ?”

“I don’t know her number, Alfred is the one that calls usually...”

“Should we take him there then ?”

“I don’t know, Alfred is-”

This went on for a little bit, as Dick was throwing up and crying. Saying “sorry !” every two seconds. But...Instinctively, Bruce was trying to soothe him with those warm pats on his back. And you were caressing his hair, empathetic. And...

You decided to not go to the doctor today, Dick was sick, but not sick enough to take him to an emergency. And in Gotham ? Leslie was needed for a lot, especially in evenings like this.

“Alfred um, gives me flat soda when I have a stomach ache ?”

“On it !”

You say, bolting on your feet and running to the kitchen, taking a cola and opening it up. Meanwhile, Dick’s fit calmed down, and he seemed to instantly feel better as he probably threw everything he needed to up...

He seemed content, cuddling against Bruce as the man was softly patting his back in small circles, and using his other hand to hold his head delicately.

You and Bruce were definitely not experienced parents yet, and it showed.

It showed by those first few minutes of utter panic, as your child got suddenly sick. And it showed as how you instantly just thought of calling Alfred...

That day, you both realized though, that you couldn’t always rely on the butler when it came to raising your son. For situations exactly like that one.

Both you and Bruce were still young, and scared to make mistakes but..You had to try. And you had to keep a cool head. Your motherly instinct kicked in.

It was so odd, seeing the big bad bat, wearing his costume without the cowl on (he didn’t have time to take it off as he rushed upstairs with the boy in his arms), looking so worried...

Bruce was so pale, and you could see that in a way, he felt his son’s pain too...Which just made your head click, and take action.

“Ok, ok we can do this. Keep the barf bucket close, let’s wait for the soda to get flat, and um...let’s try to distract him. A movie, perhaps ?”

Dick nodded, and although he wasn’t throwing up anymore, he seemed too weak to stand up (or maybe he was faking, could be, honestly, with that one...doesn’t matter) so Bruce carried him again.

And it was a sight. Bruce was a tall man. And Dick was a very small kid.

It was cute. and in that moment...In that moment it felt like you both suddenly realized what it meant, to be a parent.

Bruce, holding his son in his arms, feeling the little one’s heartbeat and slowed breath as he was kinda nodding off...was this how his own father felt, when holding him ? It was nice. It was a surge of pure love, and knowing that he would die for that kid if he had to. Hell, he would burn the whole world, for that kid.

It was so odd. The situation wasn’t that crazy, Dick probably just ate something bad, and with the trampoline and all the jumping around...he got sick.

As a child, you had those rapid sick moments of having a bad stomach ache, which would turn into throwing up, to then feel better. Those sudden moments when your own parents would take care of you...

Ah. You hadn’t realized how much worry being a parent would bring. Bruce didn’t either. You guys adopting Dick felt like an obvious thing to do. Felt like it was meant to be...

But it wasn’t just yet, that you felt like a mom. Or a dad.

It took some time to build. Just like it took time for Dick to call you “mom” and “dad”. And in that moment, as your kid (yes, your kid) was sick, that was it...

Finally. Yes. That was it.

You were a mom.

Bruce was a dad.

Dick was your son.

Of course you panicked as he suddenly got sick. But now, it was in your hand to properly take care of him. And thus started the first ritual you’d ever make with one of your children.

Dick, when sick, liked chicken noodle soups. Made by you. He liked cuddles, up until he turned 12 or 13, then he acted as if he was too grown up for them. This eventually stopped when he turned 19, not long after Jason’s death...He regressed back to a little boy in some ways, and needed you. And Bruce.

You’d often drive to Bludhaven just to give him chicken noodle soup and sprite, when he got sick. Even as he grew older and older...He loved it. No one could ever beat his mom babying him, when he felt under the weather.

JASON

"Hey buddy, are you ok ?”

“Yes, yes I’m ok mom.”

He smiles at you sweetly, his eyes half-closed, and clearly still relishing in the fact that he can finally call someone “mom”. But this happiness he felt whenever he realized he was finally safe, and had a home, was oddly dimmed, this morning.

“Are you su-OH MY GOD !”

Your hand is burning, as you lay it on his forehead.

He’s burning up !

“Hey wow hey, kiddo, come here, you’re not feeling well are you ?”

But Jason shakes his head, and says :

“No I’m good. Just tired, but I’ll wake up soon.”

He smiled again, but it felt all wrong.

Of course, you didn’t take his words for it, even if you knew Jason wasn’t a liar. But the fact spoke for themselves, your kid was NOT alright. No matter what he was saying.

Turned out, you were definitely right. He really wasn’t alright.

In fact, Jason had...pneumonia. A bad case of it. That he probably caught when he was playing earlier that day, in the snow, with Bruce, staying out up until his lips were blue and he was soaking wet !! Bruce could just never resist him, and didn’t have the heart to say “no” when the kid kept asking on playing more...

He dearly regretted it. But you reassured him, this wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t.

You rushed to the hospital, Bruce holding a tiny little Jason wrapped tight in a few warm blankets. And the doctor confirmed you made the right call, taking him to the ER.

It wasn’t like with Dick, where it was obvious the boy had a mild sickness. No. Jason really looked bad, and ready to drop.

You and Bruce let once again your parental instincts kick in and...It was the right call.

When Jason woke up, he let out a string of apologies and you realized...You realized the kid was terrified you wouldn’t want him anymore if he bothered you too much. Was scared to death that you’d want to take him back where you found him, that you’d give up on him.

His real life father bolted at the first signs of troubles. His mother was a drug addict for whom he was never good enough to try and get cleaned up.

He was abandoned, over and over again along his short life and...he was absolutely terrified that if he was too much of a nuisance to you two, you and Bruce would leave him as well. That you wouldn’t bother.

And it broke your hearts.

Softly, when Jason finally got better, after a few days of utter nightmare for you and Bruce, you took him home. He still needed some rest, as he was a little sick, so you tucked him comfortably in his bed and finally, you told him :

“From now on, you promise me to tell us when you don’t feel ok ? Wether you think it’ll bother us or not. You will never bother us, little buddy, ok ?”

“Ok”, Jason said, unsure.

“What do I have to say or do, to convince you you’ll never be a nuisance to us ?”

The question took Jason by surprise, and he wasn’t quite sure of what to say. In his feverish state anyway, he had a hard time thinking. He heard himself say :

“Stay with me ?”

“Of course. Always little one, always.”

And as he softly drifted to sleep, feeling the cold and soothing towel you would wet over and over again to put on his forehead, he heard you hum a song from your childhood, that would become a song always sure to put him to sleep.

He was out, when Bruce said : “I’ll stay home tonight.” A shame, really. Because maybe, maybe if he heard that the Batman was going to skip patrol just to keep an eye on him...Then he’d know he would never bother him. Ever.

That he would forever hold a dear, prime place in his heart.

Jason woke up the next morning, and found you and Bruce asleep on the floor, right next to his bed. You were still holding a towel that had long since dried up, and one of Bruce’s hand was clutched tightly on your shirt.

The basin full of cold water laying on his bed side table was almost empty. Jason smiled.

He felt better after a few hours of good sleep, and slowly got out of the blankets, pulling them with him, to then lay down next to you two, throwing the thick quilt over all of you.

Later that day, Alfred found the three of you all cuddled up. He snatched a picture. Picture that was framed, amongst some of your favorite of your children, in your office. And in Bruce’s.

The way you sung him to sleep when he was sick...When he died, it was the last thing he thought about. When he saw the bomb would explose before Bruce could save him.

He thought of how soothing it was, to be taken care of by you. And your humming voice rung in his ears, as he realized he was going to die. Right there.

Oh. Oh he wished he could be a little sick eight years old again, forget all his worries, and just fall asleep with the sound of your voice in his ears, while his dad would hold the both of you in his arms...

TIM

“Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, go back to bed this instant !”

Tim was the most difficult one, when he had a fever. He was a bit of a workaholic (like father like son ?), and always wanted to help. He hated being too sick because then he felt useless.

Your boy just wanted so much to be there for everyone, that he often forgot himself in the process and...yes.

His first real fever/sickness was punctuated by you constantly trying to get him back into bed.

You almost never even knew Tim was sick !

The boy was so used to taking care of himself, that he tried to handle everything on his own. He even took an appointment to the doctor himself ! But then, before having the chance to go there, he passed out in school, which resulted in a call from his principal that ended in Bruce almost having a heart attack.

You understood him of course. It wasn’t really a nice feeling to be called out during a business meeting to have someone tell you your son passed out in school !

It was just a little flu, but the fever and lack of sleep got the best of him.

Bruce didn’t even tell anyone where he was going, as he rushed to the school. You met him there, as he was walking out of the building, with a little sleepy Tim in his arms.

“I can walk, I swear I can walk.”

The boy was saying, yet his head was on his dad’s shoulder, and the up and down bobble of Bruce’s walk was clearly putting him to sleep.

Your husband settled your son in the car, and drove home.

“He was trying to convince me he could finish his school day, and that he had a group work today and didn’t want to let his friends down...”

“Sounds like Tim alright...”

You said, looking back at his sleeping form in the back seat.

Bruce nods, but you could see something was on his mind. You always knew, when something was on his mind. Brushing a few fingers on his cheeks, you ask :

“What is it, my Bruce ?”

His eyes are on the road, of course. But he flicks them quickly to you, and he knows. He knows he can’t lie to you, or get away with telling you half-truth.

You’ll know, if he’s not really telling you what has been worrying him. He takes a deep breath and, with a small voice says :

“Is this...my fault ?”

At first, you don’t understand, and you say :

“I’m pretty sure it’s because that boy never wears a damn sweater, and we’re in Gotham in the middle of Winter haha.”

But then...Then you realize what he means.

He’s talking about the fact that Tim always seem to overcompensate for something. Always seem to want to be there for everyone, forgetting sometimes he’s just a ten years old boy.

Tim was the only one out of his siblings that became Robin for no personal reason, but just because he loved Batman and wanted to help him. Just because he wanted to help people.

He didn’t have a tragic backstory (although he unfortunately got one later on...), he didn’t have a reason to become Robin, other than his good nature and really wanting to help...

And Bruce let him. Allowed him to do this. Even after what happened to Jason, he let Tim sneak in your life and become Robin.

You’d argue that Tim didn’t leave you guys much of a choice, and sort of had a “well I’m gonna help you no matter what, deal with it” sort of attitude. But you understood your husband’s worries.

He was afraid that he was the one that made him that way. That it was because of him, that Tim worked his health off.

“Oh, Bruce, my Heart...No. No it’s not your fault. It’s just how this amazing little boy is wired. I actually think that thanks to you, he’s more focused and taken care of. The gods can only imagine what Tim Drake would’ve done if he hadn’t been trained by Batman himself...If you said “no” to him pestering you about becoming your Robin, he would’ve taken it upon himself to go out there anyway. And then...I can only imagine what would’ve happened. So no. No it’s not your fault. It’s just...how he is. He reminds me of you a lot, actually. And I’m so, so glad he managed to convince you...Couldn’t imagine my life without that little one in it. Even if he does give me grief often, overworking like that. But it’s not your fault. It’s not. On the contrary.”

It took you a while, to convince Bruce he didn’t create Tim the way he sort-of created Dick and Jason. But you managed to, as you always did. You could be very convincing. Plus, the boy helped. It was clear his dedication came from himself mainly, that he was just born this way.

Too clever and smart for his own good, destined to be a Robin...and maybe a Batman, one day ?

Yes. Tim was the only one that wasn’t in it for himself. For personal reasons. He just wanted to help...

But after that first time he got sick, he understood that sometimes, it was ok to rely on you or his die. That in fact, he would gladly do so !

That day, Bruce carried him to his bed, even as the boy protested he was alright. Finally, you’ve had enough and ended up sort of lecturing him...gently.

“You need to rest, sometimes, ok ? If it’s too much, if you’re too tired, physically AND mentally, you need to take a few steps back...and let others take care of things, and of you. Ok ?”

“But-”

“No buts Timmy. It’s important. If something bad happens to you because you’ve been ignoring your own body, your own self...What will happen to those you want to help ? In order to continue what you’re doing, you need to take some pauses. Like right now. You are sick. You passed out in school. So...It’s gatorade and crackers time.”

Gatorade and crackers.

Tim’s favorite drinks and food.

Gatorade and crackers.

Two things that were rarely found in Wayne Manor. You always tried to give healthy balanced meals to your kids. Especially to Tim, who had the opposite of a balanced diet when he came into your lives (the fact he often had to take care of himself as his parents were too busy meant he often chose his own food...and of course he’d rather have ice cream than broccolis).

But the fact that you were now giving him Gatorade and crackers meant...Meant that Dick was right. When they were sick, you would do anything to make them comfortable.

Coincidentally though, Gatorade and saltines helped out, when one was sick.

On that first time he became sick after starting to live with you, Tim found that it was ok, to relax sometimes. That he didn’t have to waste his life away 24/7 for others, and that he could enjoy some down time.

It only happened when he was sick, to your great dismal. You constantly tried to convince him to take a break (just like you did with Bruce...but although it worked with your husband, especially as he got older, Tim was just very stubborn, and wanted to help too damn much). You even had to trick him into it often.

So although you hated seeing your kids in any kind of pain, you were almost glad when Tim got sick. Because it meant he would really take care of himself. Or rather, letting you take care of him.

That first time he got sick, he ended up leaving his bed...only to go cuddle up in yours and Bruce’s, and enjoy some down time. And learn that, it was ok, to take care of himself.

Hell. You’d hammer this fact in his head if you had to.

Gatorade and crackers, while watching movies in yours and Bruce’s big bed, was why Tim thought that in the end, being sick wasn’t too bad.

Extra points if you two were in the bed with him, snuggled up all nice, safe and warm.

CASSANDRA

Cassandra didn’t like TV, when she was sick. Instead, she liked you reading her stories better. And you’d read to her all day, if need be. Switching from time to time with your husband.

She had trouble sleeping, even when sick and weak. Listening to your voices telling her all those wonderful stories was soothing beyond measure.

The first time she fell sick while at Wayne Manor though, her first reflex was to go hide. Because when she used to be sick with the man who called himself her “father”, with David Cain (that scum), he used to get so mad at her.

As if it was her fault, she became sick.

So she’d run away. Curl into a ball. Wait for it to pass. And then face him, healthy again. It was easier to confront him when she was ok...So she’d rather run away and face the consequences, rather than stay around him while sick.

And so, her first instinct was to go hide.

She went to the attic, and did what she used to do.

Curled up in a ball, in front of the round window. And wait. Alone.

It’s Bruce, who found her. He was casually checking the GPS he put on his children. They still thought they got rid of it, the sweet kids...but as if he’d only implant one. He knew it wasn’t really ethical, but after what happened to Jason, he wasn’t willing to take any chances.

During the day, he would check a few times, and usually during boring office meeting, to see where they were. That day, he saw Cass in the Manor’s attic, and didn’t think much of it. Cass was a curious one, who took it upon herself to explore everything in the house.

But when he came home, and she was still there, his guts told him something was wrong...He rushed to the attic, and found her.

And his heart stopped, when he saw her laid on the floor, curled up into a ball, and softly moaning because she had a bad fever.

She wasn’t asleep, even in this state she fought sleep, afraid to have nightmares (and while having a fever, she couldn’t just wake up to escape them...).

Bruce carried her out of the attic, holding her tight in his arms, his heart bleeding as he realized why she isolated herself while she needed help.

People often misjudged Bruce on that matter. Saw him as a cold harsh man. But oh; oh if it was touching his children or you...He would feel so much. Too much, even. He just loved you all to death.

When he brought her downstairs, and you saw her, you immediately entered “mom mode” and fussed over her, getting everything you needed to make her comfortable...but as it turned out, all she wanted was to feel yours and Bruce’s presence.

To hear your voice, and feel you were there.

And so without thinking, you picked up a book and started to read it to her. And you could feel her relax, let her guard down. A rare occasion she would truly let herself be chill.

The first time Cass got sick while living under your roof, her first instinct was to hide and lick her wounds all by herself. It was to lie on the floor and hope it would pass fast. It was-

The second time she felt under the weather, she immediately went to you. It was early in the morning. And it’s only thanks to Bruce’s amazing reflexes that Cass didn’t throw up all over you two, as he pulled you away from her just in time...To then take care of changing the sheets, while you held your daughter’s hair as she threw up in the master’s bathroom’s toilet.

And then Bruce went downstairs to take a “barf-bowl”, the one actually, that her mom used to take for him...ah. He always used that one for all the kids. Call it nostalgia.

The second time Cass got sick while under your care, she didn’t hide. She wasn’t dreading it, even as she got even sicker than the first time. No.

No because now, she knew she’d always find you so you could take care of her. Ah, and Dick, Jason and Tim gave her many tricks to fake being sick and have you all for herself...

DUKE

Duke was older than any of your kids were when he started to live at the Manor. He was already in his teens. He wasn't a tiny bean like the rest of them, when he came in your family...

And yet. Yet the first time he fell sick, you babied the hell out of him.

So what if he was sixteen ? Doesn’t mean he couldn’t have all the care a child should have when he wasn’t feeling well.

And so you were ready to take care of him, when Alfred came to you this morning to tell you “Master Duke” wasn’t feeling well.

However, when you got to his room and indeed saw he was feverish, he refused to talk to you and just wanted to be alone.

And then it hits you.

Duke was sixteen.

He wasn’t a lost little eight years old boy who had just lost his parents, or never even had parents. He wasn’t a child in dear need of love and cuddles.

He was sixteen.

And he wanted HIS mom.

What happened to his parents was too fresh.

And they weren’t dead...In a way, seeing them lose their mind with no chance of ever getting better was worst.

Duke was sixteen.

And there, sick, all he wanted was to have his mom’s care again.

Yes. Duke’s case was different than all your other children. Because his parents were still there. Because he was older. Because everything was so fresh, at the moment.

In time, in the coming years, he would come to feel just like his siblings did. But right there, just mere few weeks after he moved to the manor, and mere few days after Bruce helped him find his parents...

Duke was homesick.

He missed his dad. But he missed his mom even more. Probably for the same reason that your kids loved to have you around so much, when they were sick...

There was no doubt in your mind that Duke’s mom was amazing at taking care of him when he felt ill. She probably had her own tricks, to make him feel better. Tricks that you did not know...And so you asked.

You simply asked.

Because you wanted to make him feel better. You wanted to be there for him, even if right now, he didn’t want you around.

If he truly wanted to be left alone, you’d leave some medicine and leave him be. But your guts were telling you he was just sad, and the sad was translated into him pretending he wanted to be alone.

Your guts were right.

Duke wanted his mom. Yes. But he also didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts, right now...He just didn’t want to hurt your feelings. He knew how motherly you could be. He didn’t want to project his mother on you. He-

“What do you need ?”

You asked, and the answer came to his mind instantly. He spoke before even realizing he was doing it :

“My mom used to make a perfect drink of warm water, honey, ginger and lemon.”

And as you tried to recreate his mom’s drink, never quite getting the measurements right (you could see on his face it wasn’t like his mother’s), Duke slowly felt better.

Because...Because yes. He missed his mom. And the way she took care of him. Especially on sick days. But...It wasn't everywhere that one could find someone who cared so much, that they were willing to spend their entire day trying to get a drink right, right ?

And when Bruce came home, and asked him if he was “alright champ ?”, Duke realized one thing...

Yes. He wanted his parents. Yes, he missed them like hell. Yes, his sick days would never be the same...

But he wasn’t alone. As Bruce joined in trying to make the perfect drink of “warm water, honey, ginger and lemon”, Duke came to the realization that his situation wasn’t as desperate as he thought, this morning, when he woke up feeling under the weather, and without his mom to take care of him.

Because you were still there. And were planning on staying there for a very long time. Of course, you could never replace his mom. Just like you never replaced Dick’s, or Damian’s...You just, became another mom to them.

And Duke...That first day of being sick in Wayne Manor ? He felt like he was finally willing to let you become his second mom. To let Bruce become a father figure. To have this found family, in this tough times...

Sick days were never the same than when he was a little kid and still had his parents around.

Duke was sixteen. Growing up wasn’t easy, especially after what he went through. And sick days would never be the same...But it didn’t mean they wouldn’t be nice, as he slowly let you and Bruce, and his newfound siblings, take care of him.

Yes. To have this found family in this tough times was quite a joy.

DAMIAN

To the surprise of many, Damian actually didn’t resist too much being taken care of when he first got sick under your roof.

Damian actually loved being sick, because it meant snuggles time with you, safe and warm under a blanket on the couch, watching his favorite movies. It meant your soothing fingers running in his hair, making him feel peaceful and relaxed.

It also meant that he’d have you all for himself.

With five siblings (with a sixth one on the way), it wasn’t always the easiest thing ever, to get his mom only for himself. Yes. He loved to be sick, and babied by you.

The first time he got a bad fever, a few months after he arrived at the Manor, he dreaded falling ill because...

Well. Because he was raised in the League of Assassins. And being sick, no matter how much, was not considered reason enough to not train. To not do what his grandfather told him to do.

He used to work through the sickness. Even if he felt like passing out (and he did, a few times, which earned him hours from his sleeping time taken away...).

So Damian hated being sick.

Until. Until he became ill for the first time when living with you.

By that time, you and Bruce had learned how to manage a sick child. And although Bruce still felt physically ill too whenever his children were, he managed nowadays to be somewhat ok and take care of them without wincing.

It happened not long after Damian started to call you “mom”. He fell asleep while you guys were watching a movie and...it’s what instantly told you something was wrong.

No matter how bad a movie would be, Damian would NEVER fall asleep in the middle of it.

Ah, and sure enough, as you checked his temperature you realized he had a bad fever. And so you carried him to his room, tucking him into bed.

He woke up as you were doing that, and looked at you, utterly surprised. What was going on ?

“Get some rest buddy, you’ll feel better soon.”

You said, smiling. And at first, Damian didn’t understand. He had been so conditioned in ignoring his own well being, that he didn't realize something was wrong with him. But then, you laid a hand on his forehead, and said :

“Ah it doesn’t seem like it’s such a big sickness, I’ll go get you some medicinal tea and...What do you want to eat ? If you’re hungry ? Maybe you’re not, sometimes when I’m sick I just don’t wanna eat anything.”

Sick ? Was he...Sick ? Yes. He was. But it was so mild, that he didn’t even think he needed to rest. Or...Didn’t he ? He was just so used to still work even when sick.

“What-What about school ?”

He asked, and he was surprised his voice sounded so weak and tired. Was he always feeling like that when sick ? Yes. But...Something was different.

And then it hit him.

“I think it’s ok if you skip a few days’ buddy.”

The difference was that, when he was sick while amongst the League of Assassins, he was always terrified that his grandfather got tired of him and send him hitmen (it happened a lot before, while he was sleeping for example, and it always happened to test him, test if he was ready, and willing to kill and ask questions after). That he didn’t find him useful enough.

While here, with you, he felt safe. He felt loved. He felt warm.

And so his body wasn’t in a “fight or flight” state. He was just...sick. As any normal kid would be.

When with the Al’Ghul, he somehow managed to convince himself to keep going, to work through the pain. And oh, it’s wonders, what the brain can do when you really want to.

But here. Here he didn’t have to act tough. To keep walking or he’d end up dead. Here. Here he was safe. And loved.

So he felt the sickness, the fever. He felt it’s true effect.

“What do sick people eat ?”

He asked, and at first you didn’t think much of it. You started to tell him Dick loved chicken noodle soup while Tim preferred saltines. Cass would never eat much, neither would Jason, but they’d always say yes to some flat sodas.

He seemed unsure of what he wanted, so you asked him a simple question :

“What do you usually eat, when you’re sick ?”

It was such an innocent question. But it made him almost cry.

Usually ?

Usually...

“Well...”

He hesitates, and you sense there’s more to things than you originally thought. Finally, after looking at your encouraging smile, he says :

“When I was sick before, I still had to train. And then they’d tell me I’m weak.”

In one sentence, you understand everything. And you could punch yourself for ever thinking that he got taken care of when sick. And then the next second, you hold him tight in your arms, and once again, Damian is surprised.

But pleased. He had been touched starve most of his life, this was nice.

“My poor baby...”

He didn’t even complain you called him a baby, and let you hug him. And then...Then you spend time with him, trying to find the perfect ritual to make him feel better while he was sick.

You had such rituals with everyone. Formed on the day they first got sick. Damian needed his own thing too...

Thus was created the “couch nest”.

It involved covering the living room’s couch with at LEAST one quilt, then Damian would bring the pillows (and maybe some stuffs animals, or even real ones...Titus often sneaked in) from his bed, and you would tuck him in with one or two more quilts.

He would then spend the rest of the time watching TV and movies with you. Or with his siblings. Or his dad.

And it was so comforting, to be wrapped up like that. Almost like laying in a hug. It made him feel like he was perpetually held by you.

Damian used to hate being sick. Because he hated being weak.

But this changed. Just like he changed. Thanks to his family. Thanks to you.

Now, just like Tim, he almost loved, being sick...

************

“This sort of reminds me of that time Dick got his first fever...”

You were thinking about all those terrible, yet sweet days, of your children being sick, as you walked up the stairs to your house, a hand tightly weaved around your husband’s.

Bruce was holding a sleeping Thomas in one of his arm (the boy was so small he could even fit in one of his hand, really), and felt relaxed. Here. With his son, and his wife, the love of his life. And with the knowledge than when you’d push the door to your house open you’d-

“Father ! Mom ! How is he !?”

Both you and Bruce quickly put a finger on your lips, and Damian throws his hands on his mouth, regretting his scream. But he was just so worried.

He couldn’t come with you to the doctor’s office as he had school (plus you were pretty sure he would’ve been 100 times worst than Bruce, trying to stop Leslie by any means necessary), and had been thinking about his little brother’s first shot all day.

Damian, just like his dad, wasn’t very fond of shots. He hated that his brother (wether the youngest one, or one of the older one, really) had to go through this.

It was always silly to you, how both Bruce and Damian, who’ve been through much worst than small little shots, hated those so much...Silly, and very cute.

Damian was looking critically at his brother, checking him silently for any signs of distress, for any “mistakes” Doctor Thompkins would’ve done, and seemed satisfied that the boy was fast asleep in his dad’s arm.

And Bruce...Bruce was smiling.

He felt so relaxed. And happy.

When you pushed that door, it opened on Damian rushing to the two of you, worried about his little brother. But it also opened on Alfred, who baked some comforting food, and brewed some tea for you, knowing how hard on you this sort of things could be (and yet how you insisted to take your kids to the doctor yourself, and not let Alfred do it, because you wanted to be there for them).

It opened on Cass smiling, and ruffling Damian’s hair as to reassure him.

It opened on Tim, who took a small break from his college study to come down and spend some times with his siblings, ready to relax in front of a movie (it was family movie night !).

It opened on Duke, who’s hands were full of DVDs, and who was excited to try to convince y’all to watch “Ninja and Pirates 6″, or something of the like.

It opened on Jason, who was smiling in such a way that no one would ever know all the things he went through. And it made Bruce feel all nice and warm inside...even as the little shit mimicked him having to take a shot. Squirming and looking as if he was about to faint. And ah, he hated to admit it, but his boy was impersonating him really well.

And it opened on Dick. His first kid. The one that, one day when getting sick, was who made Bruce realize what it truly meant to be a dad. The one who knew the best how much he hated ��seeing any of his children sick, or getting shots.

On Dick, who was laughing really hard at Jason’s impersonation, and giving him feedbacks about what to improve to make it even better.

The door opened on his family.

And as the ruckus surrounding him woke Thomas, as Damian yelled at Jason and Dick for being so loud, and as Bruce’s eyes fell on you, while you looked at your little tribe with love in your eyes...

Bruce felt relaxed. And so, so, oh so happy.

________________________________________________

This is yet another one of those stories I’ve been posting a lot lately, that do not take me very long to write and in which I don’t put that much effort, but that I really enjoy writing nonetheless ^^. And I hope you enjoyed reading it :), I’m nervous actually this isn’t up to your standards hahaha...Yes, hope you still liked it. Don’t hesitate to leave a little feedback etc etc ^^. Thanks in advance !

See you soon with something much longer and on which I spend a lot of time working ;).

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brightlycoloredteacups · 3 years ago

Text

Babies

Boba Fett x Fem!reader

Summary: Boba wants some babies...do you?

Warnings: None

a/n: hey. lookit this...writing after taking a could o’ years off...who knew.

Tagging: @anunhealthydoseofangst

Boba Fett had been handsy with you the moment you both had met in a dinghy little bar on a backwaters planet. It had been instant passion for you both, and though it had been years, he still couldn’t get enough of you...or so you thought.

A few months ago he began acting strange. He hardly touched you, that lustful gleam in his eyes was now gone. When you two slept in your shared quarters, he barely even grunted a good night to you before turning over and wrapping himself in the warm blanket. As much as it broke your heart, you knew what was happening. He’d found someone else to occupy his time. Someone prettier than you, someone better. The knowledge stung. But what could you do? You simply wanted him to be happy. This was all you had convinced yourself of before this morning.

You hadn’t meant to overhear him, in your defense, though, you lived in tight quarters, and sound traveled easily from the bathroom to the bedroom. So when you heard your name being called, being the semi-light sleeper you woke up, thinking something was wrong.

You padded sleepily over to the bathroom door, “Boba?” You called, putting a hand on the door to push it in. “Are you-” You stopped short when you heard that familiar grunt of his. Oh, he’s doing that right now. You frowned. Had he really brought someone in to fuck them while you were asleep in the bed next to him. Your heart broke, your blood boiled. You were ready to burst in there before his next sentance stopped you, “That’s it, meshla,” He called your name, once, twice, then continued “take it, fuck. Just like that, you and I fit so well together, don’t you think?” You bit your lip, trying to stifle a laugh, sweet relief flooding your entire being.

You were ready to call his name before it died on your lips with the words he spoke next. “That’s it,” he grunts again, you can tell he’s close, “Thats it, let me fuck you, let me put a baby in you.” Your jaw drops. A what?! You back away from the door, shocked, unable to process what you just heard.

After a few more moments of listening to him, you throw on some decent clothing and dash out the door, this revelation has completely turned your world upside down.

This was going to be hard on him. You’d become more important to him than you probably realized. He was madly, utterly in love with you, but he didn’t want you to suffer. This meant he had to let you go. For the better part of a week you had avoided him, rejected his romantic advances, and just lain there beside him when you normally would glue yourself to his side. He wondered where he went wrong, but in the end he decided that didn’t matter. Something had soured your love for him, and now he was going to have to do that hardest thing he’d ever done. Damn, did it hurt.

He takes a deep breath and says the words he hoped he’d never have to say, “You’re welcome to leave any time you want.” He says them softly, quietly, wanting this to be nothing more than a mere nightmare. You turn over to face him, “What the hell are you talking about?” You ask. “I’m not a stupid man, love,” He tells you, “I know when my woman has lost interest in me.”

The quietness in the air is almost too much for him, he just wants you gone so that he may grieve in peace. “I haven’t lost interest,” You snap, “I’ve just been thinking.” You trail off, leaving the statement open. “What could you possibly be thinking about that makes you so cold towards me?” Boba asks, he doesn’t bother to turn to you, just continues to look at the ceiling. This was difficult enough, he didn’t want to look in your face and have his resolve crumble to dust. He didn’t want to beg to keep you.

Once there was a time when he believed he was going to spend the rest of his days with you, marry you...have a family. He knows now that he’s an utter fool. You were too good for him, too pretty. He was just a stepping stone to your real happily ever after, a man with which to work out your issues. It was the Mandalorain with the green baby. It had to have been him you were thinking about. You’d never looked at another man the way you’d looked at Din Djarin.

Boba Fett was in no way prepared to hear the answer you gave him. “I was thinking about whether I wanted a family with you or not.” Your confession hit him harder than anything that ever had. You place a hand on his chest and he finally turns to you, confused, but feeling lighter by the moment. “And why would you want a little brat running around, causing a ruckus?” He asks gently. He can’t seem too interested in the thought, even though his own dreams and desires had turned towards making an honest woman out of you. You smiled knowingly at him. “You’re not as subtle as you think,” you tease. His frown deepens, trying to work out what it was you actually meant. “I heard you in the bathroom one day,” You finally confess. “Something along the lines of letting you put a baby in me?”

His heart leaps into his throat and he chokes. You weren’t supposed to have heard that.

If you ever thought there would be a day when you caught the Boba Fett off guard, it was naught but a mere dream. But here you are, surprising him with the knowledge that you knew one of his best kept secrets. He stumbles for an explanation for a few moments before giving up entirely. He turns from you to look at the ceiling once more.

You giggle and bring your hand to his face, rubbing his cheek with your thumb lightly. You make no move to force him to look at you. “You’ve been thinking about this for a week.” He says. “Mhm,”

“An entire seven days.”

“Yup,”

“And?” You can hear the hint of hope in his voice. It tugs at your heart, but you still can’t stop yourself from messing with him, just a little.

You withdraw, and turn on your other side. “I think it’s a bad idea,” You tell him. You let it hang in the air for a moment or two knowing if you wait too long, you’ll just piss him off and this entire thing will be over with, just like that. “Not until I see a ring on my finger. I want to be a wife before I’m a mother.”

You hear him growl. You squeal when you feel him wrap his strong arms around you and pull you to him. He buries his head in the crook of your neck. “You’re horrible,” He mutters. You giggle. “I get it from you old man.” He breaths a deep sigh, whether from relief or exasperation you’re unsure. “I’m your old man,” He mumbles. You nod enthusiastically. “Yes,” You tell him, “Yes you are.”

#boba fett #star wars #drabble

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golchaworld · 4 years ago

Text

Brown Sugar, Cinnamon Spice | H. HJ

pairing: baker!hyunjin x wedding planner!reader, (implied fem!reader), various celebrity cameos

genre: tooth-rotting fluff, a pinch of angst

word count: 5.4k

warnings: none!

summary: amidst stress and loneliness, you find your own decadence.

A/N: this is probably the longest fic I’ve written in the shortest amount of time! This only took me a few days start to finish. I guess I was super in love with the concept, and I hope y’all are too. As always, comments, critiques, and feedback are welcome and encouraged. My ask box is always open. Enjoy :D

You swear you’re going to die from a sugar overdose. Not from the piece of red velvet cheesecake sitting in front of you, but instead from the gazes that the couple in front of you shares. They fuss and coo, feeding each other different types of cake with disgustingly sweet smiles on their faces. It would be cute...if you didn’t have to deal with this everyday.

Planning weddings was always your dream. There was something so whimsical about the aura of weddings, the aura of love, that was always destroyed by the stress of planning. Ever since you were little, you vowed to take as much stress off of engaged couples as possible, in order to let them bask in the excitement of getting married.

Four years after college, and here you are, the best wedding planner in the city. The best wedding planner in the city, and absolutely, devastatingly single.

It’s not that you expected to be happily married by 25, but it would be nice to at least have a boyfriend, a significant other, someone. But no, instead you’re forced to help happy couples as they live out your dream. All too often you find yourself wishing you were in the place of the bride-to-be, having a fiancé to fawn over.

It’s sad, really, the way you watch the couple across from you as they bask in their pre-marital bliss. Every glance feels intimate. Every spoonful that they feed to each other feels private. You smile sadly before clearing your throat.

“I’ll leave you two to go through more of the cakes. Let me know when you guys make a decision. I’ll be waiting up front.”

The couple dismisses you with a wave, barely taking their eyes off of each other. You just set your shoulders and smooth out the blouse that’s tucked artfully into your skirt. Your heels make a satisfying click as you make your way to the front counter, adorned with cases of pastries and other sinful sweets. It’s the one behind the counter, however, that makes your head fill with sugar.

Hwang Hyunjin was more than just a familiar face. He was a college acquaintance, mutual friends always having the two of you running into each other. After graduation, the two of you were the only ones who decided to stay in the city, some twisted stab of fate bringing you closer.

You can say he’s your glorified best friend. The two of you aren’t exactly the closest, but you see each other often enough that conversation has moved from awkward to easy, distant to friendly. It also helps that the both of you have entered a sort of...business agreement.

You send any couples needing to taste cakes to his bakery first. When anyone comes to him with an order for a large event that needs planning, he sends them your way.

Now, the man just looks relaxed, smiling at you with a streak of white flour on his cheek. He leans one arm against the counter and you struggle not to look down at the way it flexes. Hyunjin always said that baking proves to be a full body workout. You can’t help but agree.

“Which one are they leaning towards?” Hyunjin asks in lieu of greeting.

“No idea.” You scrunch your nose in disgust. “They were too busy feeding each other and flirting to make any actual judgements about the cake.”

Hyunjin giggles in that unique way of his, high pitched and muted. His cheeks scrunch up, causing crow’s feet to form around his eyes. The flour flakes off in some spots.

“You can’t blame them,” Hyunjin teases. “They’re in love. Unlike a certain grumpy pants over here.”

You scoff at his insinuations.

“Don’t be jealous, Y/N.”

“I am not jealous! It would just make my life a lot easier if they just chose the damn cake.”

Hyunjin cocks an eyebrow. “Which one of us is actually baking it again?”

You roll your eyes. “Shut it, Hyunjin.”

The bell above the door chimes, announcing the arrival of a new wave of customers. Hyunjin shoots a wink your way before heading over to the cash register. He has on his salesman smile, and that alone has the group of girls in front of him swooning.

In college,�� Hwang Hyunjin was the mega-hot culinary business student who never slept around and went to church every Sunday. Now Hyunjin is the mega-hot baker-slash-bakery owner who may or may not sleep around but still goes to church every Sunday. It’s fair to say that the entire city is in love with him.

They have a right to be, of course. Hyunjin is a hot, young, single guy who bakes for crying out loud. He specializes in wedding cakes. What 26 year old man specializes in wedding cakes?

Hyunjin, the anomaly that he is, is the apple of everyone’s eye, a diamond in the rough, a sweet lawn in the concrete jungle. He’s a breath of fresh air, coated in sugary sweetness.

And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want him.

Even now, you watch how he makes small talk with his customers, how he shoots them small smiles and flirty winks. He lays the charm on thick; anything to get them to buy an extra cannoli, he says. And like a moth to a flame, you’re drawn in. You’re drawn into his sweet smile, his long blonde hair, the beauty mark under his left eye. It leaves you with a sugar rush.

Eventually, you’re called back to reality by your clients approaching. They decide on a simple yellow cake with the strawberry and vanilla pudding filling. Internally, you smile, knowing that it’s Hyunjin’s best seller...obviously for a reason.

You leave the couple with a reassurance that you’ll set up an appointment with Hyunjin to go over the design of the cake. They mentioned that they already have pre-determined cake toppers, and you fight not to roll your eyes. It’s always the cheesiest when the couples pick their own toppers.

You plaster on a smile and wave them goodbye, watching as the door closes behind them with a soft thud, the bell above still chiming. You glance down at your wristwatch and sigh. You have 15 minutes to get to Yeji’s dress fitting, all the way across the city. You straighten your shoulders, fix your blouse, and give Hyunjin one last glance on the way out.

He winks in return.

. . .

The catch of Hyunjin being your pseudo-best friend is that he has to take care of you. Not that you need a lot of taking care of. But at the end of a long work day, Hyunjin is always there to pick up the pieces. He always gives you a choice of desserts to make the day better, and today you choose to do so with tiramisu.

You practically groan when the first bit of coffee cream hits your tastebuds, followed by the bittersweet hint of cocoa powder. The cake is rich and moist, melting on your tongue in a way that’s not overly decadent. It’s not until you hear a chuckle from across from you do you realize that your eyes are closed.

When you open them, Hyunjin beams at you from across the counter, laughing at the way you’re indulging in your dessert.

“Stop laughing at me,” you command around a mouthful of cream.

“I’m not! It’s just,” Hyunjin tucks a blonde strand behind his ear. “You eat this tiramisu like twice a week, and every time you act like it’s the first...or like it’s going to be your last.”

“You should take it as a compliment.”

Hyunjin chuckles again. “Maybe I do.”

The bakery has a different aura at night. Instead of the lively buzz of coffee cups and sugar rushes, it’s bathed in a velvety decadence, illuminated by the subtle light of the pastry display. All of the chairs have been put up for the night, all of the leftover pastries have been discarded, all of the employees gone for the night. It just leaves you, Hyunjin, and the bold cream of tiramisu.

The first time Hyunjin had invited you to the bakery after hours, you thought he was joking. The two of you hadn’t been that close yet, and spending secluded, unstructured time together seemed like a recipe for disaster. To your surprise, however, the night was comfortable and casual, spent test-tasting various desserts and laughing over various college memories.

It surprised you how much Hyunjin embraced you when everyone else from school moved onto different things. In a city this big, it wouldn’t have been hard for him to disregard you completely. You stay up at night wondering why he didn’t.

“So, how was the fitting?”

Hyunjin looks genuinely interested as you recount the details of your day. At a certain point he even reaches for a fork, indulging in the tiramisu with you. With his cheeks full to the brim, he nods, smiles and inserts commentary wherever necessary. Hyunjin has always been the best listener.

“Why do you plan weddings if it stresses you out so much?”

You pout at Hyunjin’s questions. “Why do you run a bakery if it stresses you out so much?”

“Because I get to eat delicious treats at the end of the day.”

You smirk. “So do I.”

“Touché,” Hyunjin smiles.

The two of you are quiet for a moment, indulging in the last few bites of tiramisu. It makes you smile, the way Hyunjin is still in love with all of his desserts after having to make them all day, every day. After every bite he groans dramatically, pointing an accusatory finger at the cake to say “damn you for being so good.”

When the tiramisu is finished, and all that’s left is the sound of forks scraping empty plates, Hyunjin sighs.

“Are you going to plan your own?”

“My own wedding?” When Hyunjin nods in response, you chuckle sadly. “At this point, it looks like I’ll never even have a wedding, let alone have the chance to plan it.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes. “Don’t lie. I’m sure you have suitors lining up to take your hand in marriage.”

You scoff, picking up the plate that once held your tiramisu. You deposit it in the sink full of soapy water behind the counter, along with the fork. Hyunjin grabs your arm as you get closer, forcing you to face his looming form.

“I’m being serious, you know.”

You shrug in response. “Maybe that’s the problem. My love life is such a joke that you being serious about it seems like an insult.”

“It wasn’t anything.”

“I know.”

“Then why—“

You’re quick to cut the man off. “It’s getting late, Hyunjin. I’ll see you, okay?”

You don’t wait for Hyunjin to respond, leaving the man nodding dumbly behind the counter. At the first whip of the harsh wind against your face, you groan. Hyunjin was supposed to be your ride home.

. . .

The thing about the city is that celebrity weddings are frequent. Celebrity weddings, known for their flashy, expensive decorations, and over-the-top attire single handedly wipe out your energy for the entire season. But they pay well.

The money may or may not be the reason you sit in front of the Minatozaki Sana in your office, her hand being held by her fiancé. He’s a gorgeous man, with a strong jaw and high cheekbones. That much is expected as the fiancé of the top model in the country.

“So do you guys have a date in mind?” You ask the couple, a warm smile glossing over your face.

“Well,” Sana glances at her fiancé before returning your gaze. “We were hoping for November 18th.”

“Got it! So a year and a month isn’t too bad. It’s a little tight for planning, but—“

The fiancé chuckles. “Oh no, I think you’ve misunderstood. We meant November 18th, 2020. We want to get married next month.”

You can’t help the way your jaw drops. A month for a normal wedding would be hell on earth. A month for a celebrity wedding is like jumping head first into Dante’s Inferno. Your distress must be palpable, seeing as Sana’s brows furrow almost instantly.

“That’s...doable right?” She asks with wide eyes.

“Umm,” you rack your brain for words. “It’s going to be tight. Like really tight. But yes, it’s doable.”

Sana instantly lights up, clasping her fiancé’s hands in hers. “Oh wonderful! I’m so excited.”

You nod in agreement, plastering on the biggest smile you can manage.

“Oh! And one more thing!” Sana’s eyes sparkle with excitement. “I want a Hwang Cake!”

. . .

Three hours later, you’re seated across from the engaged couple as the two indulge in a plethora of different cakes and icings. Hyunjin had managed to whip them all up in such a short amount of time, not once complaining about the pinch you put him in. At some point, though, you’ll have to tell him about the month until the wedding. You’re sure you’re going to hear some complaints then.

Instead of Hyunjin being the face of the bakery today, it’s one of his employees, a short but bright boy by the name of Felix. He always wears glittery eyeshadow and a smile too big for his face, and it only adds to how endearing he is. You’d never met the human embodiment of cotton candy until Felix waltzed into the bakery on his first day of work.

With Felix manning the register, Hyunjin is nowhere to be found. The only appearance he made was to hand-deliver the test cakes to Sana and her fiancé. He greeted them with a bright smile and many thanks for choosing his bakery. He only gave you a curt nod before disappearing behind the threshold of the kitchen.

“The red velvet is to die for! Don’t you think, hun?”

Sana’s fiancé looks back at the woman as if she hung the stars, confessing his love for her and more with just one glance. Once again, you are reminded of what true love looks like. Once again, you feel jealousy brewing in the pit of your stomach.

“It is. I love it with the cream cheese icing.”

Sana smiles. “I know you do. Cream cheese has always been your favorite. If only you could see that buttercream is superior.”

For a second, the couple just gaze at each other, basking in the vitality of a fresh engagement. You can tell that even though their romance was very spur of the moment, they will clearly last for a long time.

Your chest hurts.

“I think we’ll go with the red velvet and cream cheese icing.”

You’re quick to put on a smile. “Perfect! I’ll go let Hyunjin know, and then later we can make an appointment to figure out the design and aesthetics of the cake.”

“Sounds good.”

As you stand and approach the register, you can hear the couple begin to giggle to themselves, as if choosing a wedding cake flavor is the epitome of cloud nine. You suppose it might be. You wouldn’t know

Felix greets you with a smile when you arrive at the register, the corners of his eyes scrunching cutely. “How did it go?”

You can’t help but return the smile. “Good! They decided pretty quickly. Where’s Hyunjin, so I can let him know?”

“In the kitchen,” Felix points behind his shoulder with a thumb. “You can just head back there.”

“Thanks, Felix.”

You expect the hardcore rap music that’s playing through the speakers in the kitchen. It’s muted enough so that the rest of the bakery can’t hear it, but loud enough that Hyunjin can get lost in it. It’s endearing, the way he mumbles the words under his breath while he pipes bright orange frosting onto a black fondant cake. It’s always around this time that he has to perfect his Halloween treats.

You wait until he’s done piping his row before calling his attention softly. “Hyunjin? They decided.”

Hyunjin doesn’t look up. He just moves on to piping the next row while he says, “and what did they decide?”

“Red velvet with the cream cheese icing.”

“Okay. We’ll make the appointment for later in the week.”

Hyunjin’s tone carries an air of finality to it. It’s formal, cold, and all too detached. Although the two of you have never been that close, this distance is still new from you. Hyunjin has never stood in front of you and felt miles away.

“Okay.” And when he doesn’t respond, “I’ll be back later, okay? After closing.”

Hyunjin stills for a moment before continuing his piping job, the movement almost imperceptible. “Tiramisu or cannoli?”

A sticky sweet smile blooms on your face. “Cannoli.”

. . .

The shell of the cannoli crunches deliciously, breaking the silence between you and Hyunjin. It’s once again after closing, but gone is the aura of awkwardness the two of you had left behind the previous night. Hyunjin glances at you, a small smirk gracing his face.

“Is it good?”

You roll your eyes. “You know it’s good.”

“Maybe I do.” Hyunjin shrugs cutely, his white apron shifting in the process.

He looks more up-kept than usual. His long hair is tied half up by a navy blue ribbon that matches the oversized sweater he wears. He’s wearing his jewelry, all of his piercings filled with earrings, various chunky rings adorning his fingers. But when you look down, you notice he’s still wearing his trademark neon green crocs.

“Nice shoes.”

Hyunjin looks down before realizing what you’re referring to. “Oh shut up. You know they’re the comfiest for baking.”

“Maybe I do.”

You savor the taste of the whipped cream and ricotta as it hits your tongue. Hyunjin looks content to watch you enjoy the dessert, folding his arms over his chest as he eyes you. He’s not the slightest bit insecure about his work, knowing that no matter what he makes, you’ll love.

It reminds you all too much of the first time you met Hyunjin, packed together inside a way-too-crowded frat party. Changbin, a mutual friend had grabbed you by the hand and pulled you through the crowd, insisting that there was someone you had to meet. You spotted Hyunjin long before you could make your way over.

Hyunjin had been leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. His gaze had been disinterested, but confident, knowing that his presence alone was a gift in and of itself. At the time, he didn’t know how right he was.

“You know, I didn’t mean to insult you yesterday.”

The man’s comment has you finally looking up from your cannoli, the last bite standing frozen between your fingers. After swallowing down a mouthful of filling, you clear your throat, slowly lowering the pastry down to the plate.

“It’s okay. I think I just overreacted a bit.”

Hyunjin nods, arms still crossed tightly over his chest. Light glints off of one of his silver rings. “Why is it such a sore topic? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Honestly?” You chuckle bitterly to yourself. “Honestly, I don’t know. I guess I just expected something by now. But here I am, 25 years old, having a stable career, and having not had a relationship over half a decade. I just feel like I’m behind, you know?”

Surprisingly, Hyunjin nods. “I do. I mean, I’ve never had a relationship.”

This is news. Hwang Hyunjin, the star culinary student slash campus heartthrob has never had a relationship. Never? Even the thought seems ridiculous.

The confusion must be evident on your face, because Hyunjin chuckles. “I know, I know. It’s silly, isn’t it?”

“Not silly! Just...surprising…”

“Well, I guess so.”

You’re still attempting to process your thoughts, unable to stop a slew of questions from leaving your mouth. “Why not, though? Have you never considered it? Have you never had your eye on someone?”

At this, Hyunjin’s eyes grow sad. The confident light in them disappears like a wisp of cotton candy in the wind. His eyes swim with a salty-sweetness.

“I’ve actually always had my eye on someone. Since college, actually.”

Instantly, it clicks. “Oh! They must have moved away, right? Everyone moved away after college except us, and I know how sucky that must be for you. Gosh, I didn’t even consider that.”

Hyunjin traps a bubblegum bottom lip between his teeth, seemingly mulling something over in his head. His arm tenses, only once, before releasing. Hyunjin uncrosses his arms, choosing to lean forward onto the countertop.

“I don’t think they left.”

Your eyes light up at the same time your heart falls. It’s so easy to fake not being hurt by the information, just like it’s easy to fake not wanting Hyunjin. Just like it’s easy to say that sticking around after hours is for work and not personal agendas. Just like it’s easy to be his pseudo-best friend.

“Then why don’t you go for it?”

Hyunjin chuckles sadly. “I’m not even on their radar. Not like that.”

For the first time tonight, you laugh. You laugh genuinely and boldly. You laugh loudly, until tears are pooling in the corners of your eyes. Hyunjin just looks at you as if you are crazy, overcome with a laughing fit in the middle of his closed bakery. But you can’t help it; it’s funny.

“You’re literally Hwang Hyunjin. There’s no one who’s radar you aren’t on! And I mean no one.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes. “Then why don’t they ever go for it or flirt with me back? I keep waiting on them to indulge me, but they never do.”

“I think…” You take a deep breath in order to swallow back tears. “I think that maybe they dont know that you’re interested. You have to be bold and make the first move! I promise you no one would ever turn you down.”

Hyunjin sighs. “And you know this for sure?”

The smile that you plaster on is watery and obviously fake. However, it’s the best you can do in the dark chocolate ambience of the bakery. It echoes everything inside you at the moment—bittersweet.

“Maybe I do.”

. . .

You don’t see Hyunjin again until a few days later. Your schedule is packed with last minute rearrangements and irregular breaks as you make room for Sana’s wedding plans. It’s hectic, stressful, and overall just a handful.

Your hands hurt from typing out various versions of wedding invitations. Every venue in the city hates you for repeatedly calling and begging for availability on November 18th. A few of your clients are pissed for having their appointments rescheduled, and an even smaller few are understanding.

The worst part of it all is that when Sana and her fiancé waltz into your office on a random Monday, they have the audacity to look cheerful. Neither of them look the least bit stressed, and all the more in love, which angers you slightly. You have to remind yourself that this is why you do this. You have voluntarily become a stress ball for engaged couples. You’re starting to regret that decision.

Sana blinks her pretty eyes at you sweetly, greeting you with a honey-dipped smile. “How have things been going?”

You plaster on an equally sweet smile, composed of high fructose corn syrup instead of genuine sugar. “It’s been going well. Your cake appointment is scheduled for Thursday. All that’s left is for you to pick an invitation format, your dress, and the venue.”

“That sounds great! That’s nothing.” The fiancé exclaims.

You grit your teeth. “Yep, it should be smooth sailing from here.”

The couple leaves with various printed versions of wedding invitations that you paid extra to express print. The minute the door closes behind the two, you sag into your chair. Running your hands over your face, you let out a loud groan. The best part about having an individual office is that no one is around to hear your mental breakdowns.

You spend a moment indulging in the secret stash of chocolates you keep in the top drawer of your desk, letting the rich bitterness melt on your tongue. The taste is dangerous, and you remind yourself to hit the gym extra hard this week.

After a moment, your phone chimes with a message. It’s a simple text from Hyunjin, asking you if you’re planning to visit the bakery later. When you reply in the affirmative, he responds with a simple question.

Cheesecake or Torrone?

You smile and reply with the former.

. . .

The bakery is eerily silent when you arrive. Although it’s normally quiet at this hour, you can usually hear the soft hum of Hyunjin’s music, or the sounds of dishes and pans being cleaned. But this time, there’s nothing.

“Hyunjin?” You call out, slightly confused at the ambience.

It’s silent for a moment, and then a voice sounds out. “In the kitchen!”

You follow the familiar path back to the kitchen, surprised at the dimness of the lights and the lack of sound. When you enter the kitchen, though, it makes both more and less sense at the same time. Hyunjin has various candles littered around the countertops, illuminating the kitchen in a soft orange glow.

Hyunjin himself stands in the corner of the kitchen, changed out of his work attire. He’s wearing a neat button up shirt, untucked over black jeans. The look is completed with his black dress shoes and various jewelry. At his lack of bright green crocs, you’re taken aback.

At the center of the kitchen, poised atop what is usually used as a workbench for kneading bread, is a perfect cheesecake resting on a cake stand. The cake’s tan surface is tainted with tracks of a red reduction that has been placed gently on the center of the cheesecake. At second glance, you determine it to be raspberry. Your favorite.

“What is all this?”

A small smile graces Hyunjin’s face. “Well you told me to ‘be bold and make the first move.’ I don’t know what could be a bolder move than candles and raspberry cheesecake.”

A thousand thoughts run through your mind at the revelation. First move? Being bold? It’s you? Through your jumble of thoughts and emotions, you manage out a small, “so it is raspberry?”

“I’m standing here confessing, and you’re asking about the cheesecake?” Hyunjin laughs. “Yes, it’s raspberry. I knew that was your favorite so…”

“So it's me? I don’t understand.”

Hyunjin finally moves from his position in the corner, crossing the large kitchen easily. “Well, I hoped we could talk about it over cake.” The man motions towards the stools around the workbench.

You just nod, taking a seat on one of the stools. You struggle to keep up with the situation, still wrapping your head around it. Hyunjin makes his way over, a smile still poised on his face. You bite your lip as he rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt. You find yourself biting harder as you watch the flex of his forearms when he cuts the cake. The piece he deposits in front of you is picturesque, something straight out of a food and wine magazine.

When Hyunjin sits across from you, you take in the way the candlelight hits him, perfectly illuminating his features. His lips are plush and pink, blonde hair falling down onto his shoulders. There’s something glimmering in his eyes, a conflicted wetness that borders between hopeful and disappointed.

“So?” You start.

Hyunjin just shakes his head. “Take a bite first.”

“Hyunjin, I know what your cheesecake tastes like.”

“I don’t care. I’m not talking until you take a bite.”

Stubbornly, you pick up your fork and shovel a bite into your mouth. You’re about to immediately retaliate and open your mouth again, but the pleasant assault of flavor on your taste buds leaves you immobilized. Your eyes widen in shock, causing Hyunjin to chuckle cutely.

“It’s good, right? I added an extra hint of cinnamon spice in order to give the crust that extra umph.”

You practically moan around your bite of food. “Hwang Hyunjin I could marry you right--”

Hyunjin laughs again, this time appreciating the way you cut yourself off before he had to. He shifts in his seat, taking a bite of his own cheesecake before pushing a strand of hair out of his face. He savors his bite, chewing slowly and swallowing completely before opening his mouth again.

“I know this may be sudden,” he begins. “And I know we’ve never been that close. But I like you, Y/N. I have since college. And I don’t want to be too presumptuous, but I have a feeling that you may like me too.”

You nod slowly, trying to ignore the heat that rises to the apples of your cheeks. “Maybe I do.”

Once again, Hyunjin laughs. “Well I guess a ‘maybe’ is as good as I’m going to get from you.”

“No, I mean,” you clear your throat. “I like you, too. Not maybe. I do.”

Hyunjin’s smile is bright, soft around the edges as the shadows of the candle flames dance around his face. He’s gorgeous, all rounded cheeks and bleach blonde hair, squinty eyes and the faintest of dimples.

“I’m glad.”

You sigh. “This whole time I wondered why we were always on the border of friendship. We were close, but not that close. It felt weird to be your friend but also felt weird to not be. I guess that should have been a sign, huh?”

“I’ve always been bad at reading signals.”

“Me too.”

The smile you two share is warm and sweet, filled with the kind of rich sweetness that only comes with something fresh and purified. It’s not the synthetic sugar that makes candy, nor the citrusy sweetness of fruit. The sugar you share is rich, deep, with a slight tang. It’s reminiscent of the crust of the cheesecake, a mellow combination of brown sugar and cinnamon spice.

. . .

Sana’s wedding is just as grand as she wanted it to be. The venue is decked out in flashes of burgundy silk and red roses, complimenting the warm brown of Sana’s hair. Her dress is adorned with Swarovski crystals and delicate stitching, allowing her to sparkle all throughout the ceremony. Eventually vows are read, and the couple is officiated, and you hold Hyunjin’s hand when he sheds a few tears.

The reception is equally as flashy, various celebrity couples trying to outdo each other with their outfits and lavish gifts for the newlywed couple. They take up all of the space in the room and on the dance floor, their fame-inflated egos making the venue feel much smaller than it actually is.

The couple cuts into the cake with cheers in the background. Hyunjin cringes as they smash pieces of cake in each others’ faces, complaining about the waste of frosting and “immaculately made cake.” It takes two kisses and holding his hand for 5 minutes straight to placate him.

After cheers and various upbeat songs, the DJ finally slows down the pace. Various couples get up and slow dance together, swaying to the melody of the soft ballads. Even though its far from the vibes of Hyunjin’s favorite rap songs, he offers a hand out, and leads you happily to the dance floor.

The two of you find a small, unoccupied space on the dance floor, instantly falling into each other. You wrap your arms tightly around Hyunjin’s shoulders, revelling in the feeling of his warm hands around your waist. The two of you sway together, holding each other too close. You can feel the steady thump of Hyunjin’s heart under your head, each beat lining up with the slow pumps of yours.

The spectacularly sweet scent that always clings to Hyunjin as a result of his time in the bakery is ever-present, and you find yourself inhaling it reverently. You allow your eyes to close, getting lost in the song. And if you think hard enough, you can picture it being your own wedding.

You can picture you and Hyunjin at the altar, a few years in the future. You would hold each other’s hands tightly, fighting hard to hold back tears. Hyunjin would of course let a few fall, and you would laugh. And when the minister asks if you take Hwang Hyunjin to be your lawfully wedded husband, you would smile and respond:

“Maybe I do.”

#hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin imagines #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids #skz #escritos

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monotonous-minutia · 3 years ago

Text

Benvenuto Cellini in 300 lines or fewer

for the lovely and incredibly patient @notyouraveragejulie, as requested! Happy Cellini-versary! took me long enough, but decided to get it done today to honor the occasion :)

Act I Scene I

Balducci’s house

Balducci: Teresa what are you doing looking out the window I told you never to look out the window. Besides I need you to listen to my rant. Can you BELIEVE what the Pope has just told me? He’s hired that delinquent Cellini to make his new statue instead of Fieramosca. I just can’t wrap my head around it.

Teresa: Maybe you could if it wasn’t so big.

Balducci: What?

Teresa: Nothing.

(Balducci exits)

Teresa: Ugh FINALLY I hate listening to his rants. )goes back to look out the window)

Masqueraders outside: LALALALA IT’S CARNIVAL THE BEST TIME OF THE YEAR

(Balducci comes back and sees Teresa at the window)

Balducci: TERESA WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT STAYING AWAY FROM THE WINDOW what is even going on down there? I bet it’s that Cellini whipping everyone into a frenzy. Ugh, Carnival. (exits again)

Teresa: (goes to the window and is immediately showered with flowers) I don’t care what my dad says, hanging out by the window is fun. I love flowers. Oh hey, a note from Cellini! What? He’s coming here? Oh, that’ll be risky. But hey, dad’s out of the house, what could go wrong? Y’know, it’s kinda hard, dealing with all this—feeling like I have to listen to my dad, but wanting to indulge in the affections of my beloved. When I’m older, old like my parents, maybe I’ll be responsible, but right now I’m young, and I deserve to have some fun! Girls just wanna have fun!

Cellini: (appearing at the window) TERESA MY BELOVED

Teresa: Cellini, I love you, but it’s too dangerous for you to be here. What if my dad catches us?

Cellini: But look, it’s carnival, and it’s so gay! And I mean that like happy, but y’know, it’s pretty gay too. Besides, I love you. Why do you turn me away?

Teresa: Well, I just got done singing this empowering feminist aria, but unfortunately reality hits and I remember that it’s 1532 and I basically have no rights, so it’s best for you to forget me and move on.

Fieramosca: (sneaking in carrying a huge bouquet) The best way to a woman’s heart is with a cool sneak-in plan and a bunch of flowers. Hang on, is that Cellini talking to my Teresa?

Cellini: How am I supposed to just leave you behind? Let you be forced into the arms of that Fieramosca?

Teresa: I’d rather die than marry Fieramosca!

Fieramosca: …I just came here to have a good time and I’m honestly feeling so attacked right now.

Cellini: Okay, so, how about this: Come to the new opera Cassandro is presenting tomorrow night. While your dad is distracted, my apprentice and I will sneak over disguised as friars and spirit you away! We’ll go to Florence and live happily ever after! Nothing could possibly go wrong!

Fieramosca: Hmm, interesting plan. It would be a shame if someone were to...interfere.

Teresa: Sounds foolproof. But hang on, my dad is coming back. You have to hide!

(Cellini hides behind the door. Fieramosca hides in Teresa’s bedroom. Balducci somes back.)

Balducci: Teresa, what are you up to? Are you talking to people? How many times do I have to remind you that you’re not allowed to have a life?

Teresa: (distracting him so Cellini can sneak out) DAD THERE’S A MAN IN MY BEDROOM

Balducci: What??? Let me see!

(Balducci goes into Teresa's bedroom and comes out dragging Fieramosca) I can’t believe this! This is so inappropriate, Fieramosca, how dare you?

Fieramosca: No, wait, let me explain! I just came to visit! Cellini is the real rascal!

Teresa: Oh the poor man is raving mad.

Balducci: I will not stand for this! Servants, come here! Let’s teach this seducer a lesson!

Servants: OH YEAAAHHHHH LET’S STICK HIM IN THE FOUNTAIN

Fieramosca: NO WAIT

Teresa: This is the best thing ever.

Act I Scene II

Piazza Colonna

Cellini: I can’t wait to elope with Teresa!

(A bunch of Cellini’s friends and students come in)

Chorus: LALALALALA LET’S GET SLOSHED

Cellini: Yes, but for god’s sake none of those ridiculous drinking songs. Let’s sing about the glory of metal-workers!

Everyone: YEAH GLORY TO THE METAL-WORKERS!! WE’RE THE BEST WE WORK WITH METAL THAT SPARKLES LIKE JEWELS AND RIPPLES LIKE FLOWERS AND IS MORE BEAUTIFUL THAN BOTH OF THOSE PUT TOGETHER

Bernardino: Alright folks, let’s drink up!

Innkeeper: Sorry lads, not until you pay your tab.

Cellini: Okay who’s got the cash? …nobody? Well this is a nice little pickle we’ve gotten ourselves into.

Ascanio: (enters carrying a bag of money) ASCANIO TO THE RESCUE

Everybody: YEAHHH VIVA ASCANIO

Ascanio: Okay hold your horses folks, before you spend this money, you have to realize where it’s coming from. It’s a down payment on that statue you’re supposed to build. Cellini, remember you promised the Pope you’d make that statue?

Cellini: Ugh, don’t remind me.

Ascanio: It’s literally my job to remind you.

Cellini: Fiiiiine I promise I’ll finish the statue.

Ascanio: Okay, cool. Here’s the money.

Cellini: Here you go, you troublesome little man, now give us our drinks.

(He gives the Innkeeper the money.)

Cellini: Okay, now that we all have had our libations, let’s talk revenge. You know that guy Balducci who’s always disrespecting me and trying to keep me away from my girlfriend? Well, I have a plan for Carnival where we can humiliate him in front of everyone as payback!

Everyone else: Sounds like a great time! We’re in.

Everyone: Yeah!! A curse on that guy! And while you’re at it, honor to the metal-workers again!!

Ascanio: That’s such a bop where’d it come from?

Cellini: We made it up while you were gone.

Ascanio: I always miss the fun stuff.

(they all leave to get ready; Fieramosca, who was eavesdropping, comes out into the open)

Fieramosca: Ugh, look at them all, plotting against my future!

Pompeo: (entering) Hey boo! What's with the long face?

Fieramosca: Alas, Pompeo, my only friend! What a week it's been! First off, I got an impromptu and very much unwanted bath at Balducci’s yesterday. And as if that weren’t enough, now Cellini and his apprentice are going to abduct my girl!

Pompeo: That’s actually not a bad idea.

Fieramosca: What do you mean?? You want him to steal Teresa from me?

Pompeo: No, the getting in disguise and abducting her part! Why don’t WE just don those same disguises and get her ourselves?

Fieramosca: Ohhh, I get it! What a great idea! Although I must admit, I am a little scared of what Cellini might do if he catches me in the act.

Pompeo: What you think he’s actually going to stab somebody? Here, let’s practice sword fighting so you’re prepared if he does try to pull anything funny.

Fieramosca: Good idea! (they practice sword fighting) HA LOOK AT ME, WHO WOULD EVER DARE CHALLENGE ME, ALL Y’ALL PEASANTS GET OUT OF MY WAY, I’M THE ROUGHEST TOUGHEST GUY YOU EVER DID SEE. Oh, Teresa, I wish you could know just how much my heart burns for you! I’ll be damned if I let that rascal Cellini come between us.

(They leave to get ready. Balducci enters with Teresa as the Piazza begins to fill with people)

Balducci: Well, Teresa, I hope you’re happy. I’ve decided to suffer through this vulgar comedy so you can stop nagging me about not letting you go to Carnival.

Teresa: I’ll never forget your sacrifice, dad. (Come to think, it DOES make me feel a little guilty to be running away from home...is it fair to leave him all by himself?)

Cellini and Ascanio: (dressed as monks) Quickly and quietly, let’s get down to business! The plot is about to start!

Chorus or Troupers: COME, GOOD PEOPLE OF ROME!! COME AND SEE OUR SHOW!!

People: THIS IS SO MUCH FUN CARNIVAL IS AWESOME

Troupers: Let the show begin! (They start a pantomime featuring a parody of Balducci and the Pope)

Balducci: What fresh nonsense is this?

Teresa: Uhhh maybe we should go?

People: SHUT UP AND WATCH THE SHOW

Balducci: You know what? I’m going to suffer through this whole thing and then go tell the Pope how you’re all mocking him! Because he and I talk all the time I guess.

People: WE SAID SHUT UP JUST WATCH THE SHOW

Cellini: Ascanio, can you see Teresa?

Ascanio: Nope but I see someone else trying to interfere with our plans!

People: HAHAHA WATCH THE SHOW THIS IS SO FUNNY LOOK AT HARLEQUIN LOOK AT THE OLD MAN HAHAHA

Balducci: I’M GOING TO TELL ON ALL OF YOU

Teresa: Dad, stop, you’re just riling them up!

Balducci: THAT’S IT I’VE HAD ENOUGH COME GET A TASTE OF MY WRATH (he runs onstage wielding his cane)

People: HAHAHA THIS JUST KEEPS GETTING BETTER

Fieramosca: Come on, Pompeo, let’s sneak over and grab Teresa!

Cellini: Come on, Ascanio, let’s sneak over and grab Teresa!

Fieramosca: Teresa, it’s me! Come with me!

Cellini: Teresa, it’s me! Come with me!

Teresa: ??? I don’t know who is who!

Cellini: Come with me!

Fieramosca: Come with me!

Teresa: You know, when I imagined myself falling in love, I never thought I’d have two fake monks vying for my attention.

Ascanio: WE’VE BEEN HAD YOU WON’T GET AWAY WITH THIS (starts chasing Fieramosca)

Cellini: Get out of my way! Cut it out! (He and Pompeo fight; Cellini stabs Pompeo.)

Pompeo: Oh, I’m dead! (He dies.)

People: OMG SOMEBODY DIED CALL 911 I CAN’T BELIEVE A MONK JUST KILLED A GUY WHAT KIND OF WORLD DO WE LIVE IN

Fieramosca: OMG I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU JUST KILLED MY BOYFRIEND

Teresa: OMG CELLINI

Balducci: OMG A DEAD MAN TERESA WHERE ARE YOU

Cellini: OMG I’M REALLY IN TROUBLE NOW

Ascanio: Well, that happened.

(General chaos ensues; Cellini’s students help him escape. Amidst the mayhem Balducci bumps into Fieramosca, and, thanks to his white monk costume, mistakes him for the murderer)

Balducci: I FOUND HIM I FOUND THE MURDERER

Fieramosca: ...are you telling me this is the second time in as many days I’m being accused of something that Cellini did?

Ascanio: Come on, Teresa, let’s get out of here!

Teresa: You don’t have to tell me twice! (They both run off.)

Act II Scene I

Cellini’s workshop

Teresa: Oh my gosh what a catastrophe! I hope Cellini is okay!

Ascanio: Have faith! My master is not one to let a silly little murder accusation get him down. I mean, he did actually kill the guy, but I’m sure it will all work itself out. Have faith!

Teresa: Let’s pray for his safe return! (She and Ascanio sing a very pretty prayer; Cellini busts into the workshop)

Cellini: HONEY I’M HOME

Teresa and Ascanio: OMG YAYY YOU’RE ALIVE

Cellini: It was a close call! Everyone was running after me with daggers and calling out for my blood! I thought for sure I was done for, but I managed to evade the crowd and find a place to hide, but passed clean out in the process. It was just my fortune that as I came to my senses, as group of white monks were walking past! I joined their procession and no one was the wiser. God led them right to you!

Teresa: OMG that’s such a harrowing adventure! I’ve got goosebumps.

Ascanio: And you’re sure this is 100% accurate, with no embellishments?

Cellini: What do you take me for? Now, come on, we’ve got to get out of here before they come after us again.

Ascanio: Whoops, they’re already here.

Balducci: Cellini, you scoundrel, abductor, murderer, and general all-around-annoying person! Relinquish my daughter. It’s time for her to unite with her husband, Fieramosca.

Cellini: OVER MY DEAD BODY

Ascanio: Don’t give them any ideas!

Balducci: Come on, Fieramosca, claim your bride!

Teresa: DAD NOOOOO

Fieramosca: Uh...I don’t want to cause a scene…

(The Pope enters with his retinue)

Everybody: OH SHI--OH DEAR IT’S THE POPE

Pope: Rise, rise, my children! Relish in my holiness, but don’t hurt yourselves.

Balducci and Fieramosca: Oh your Holiness, please grant us your assistance! That rascal Cellini has tarnished Teresa’s honor.

Cellini: Come on, I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration.

Pope: Well well, well, Cellini, this isn’t the first time you’ve gotten in trouble with me, is it? For example, where’s my statue? The one I commissioned you to make?

Cellini: Well...it’s not quite done yet.

Pope: Are you saying I should find someone else to cast the statue instead?

Cellini: WHAT?? HOW DARE YOU!! SOMEONE ELSE CAST M STATUE?? I’D RATHER DIE THAN SEE SOME AMETURE DARE TO PUT THEIR GRUBBY LITTLE FINGERS ON MY MASTERWORK

Everyone else: Are you seriously yelling at the Pope????

Pope: Arrest this man!

Cellini: YOU ARREST ME AND I WILL DESTROY THIS MODEL RIGHT HERE THEN NO ONE WILL BE ABLE TO FINISH THE STATUE! NOBODY!! NOBODY!!

Pope: How dare you threaten me? What’s it going to take to calm you down?

Cellini: I want full forgiveness for all my crimes up till this point. Wipe my record clean.

Pope: Fine, fine.

Cellini: ALSO I want Teresa.

Balducci and Fieramosca: WHAT??? Your Holiness can’t possibly be considering this.

Cellini: I ALSO want more time to finish the statue.

Pope: …you know my weakness for art; fine, fine, I can’t really say no.

Balducci and Fieramosca: What audacity! But we’ll see who has the last laugh.

Teresa: Oh, what a fateful day!

Ascanio: Look at my master, he’s so clever and devious!

Pope: Okay, Cellini, here’s the deal. Finish the statue by tomorrow, and you’ll get all that you asked for. If you can’t finish it in time, you’ll be hanged.

Cellini: Fine!

Balducci and Fieramosca: He’s on the brink of ruin! We’ll see who wins this one!

Teresa: He’s doomed, alas! There’s nothing left for me in this world! Luckily I'm not going to end my life based on this notion like most operatic heroines, but I still feel dread in my heart!

Cellini: I’ve got to win this!

Ascanio: Come one boss you’re the best you got this!!!!

Act II Scene II

Cellini’s Foundry

Ascanio: TRALALALALALA….idk what I’m feeling...I’m happy, then I’m sad, then I’m crying, then I’m laughing, then I’m singing! Must be the hormones. Or the stress...our little bronze boy is finally getting finished today! But there’s a lot on the line. On one hand, I’m all scared that we’ll fail and my poor master will be hanged; on the other hand I can’t help laughing over how ridiculous the whole situation is...I mean, did you SEE the way my master stood up to the Pope?? Anyway, I better start getting ready. Tralalala! (He exits)

Cellini: What have I gotten myself into? How did I expect to finish this statue on time? All of Rome has its eyes on me

Ascanio: *Hamilton chorus voice* history has its eyes on youuuu

Cellini: What?

Ascanio: Nothing. I’m not here.

Cellini: Ah, why can’t I be a simple shepherd, whiling my life peacefully away in the mountains?

Chorus outside: Oooh!! here’s a grim old sea shanty

Cellini: I wish they’d stop! Nothing good ever happens when they sing that song!

Ascanio: (coming back) Not that song again!

Cellini: Take heart! We’re like sailors ourselves, but our sea is made of metal! Let’s get to work!

Fieramosca: NOT SO FAST!! I demand justice! Cellini, I challenge you to a duel! No need for all those sword-fighting lessons to go to waste.

Cellini: Someone finally grew a pair, eh? Fine, let’s duel right here.

Fieramosca: Not here! If I kill you in your own place, I’m a murderer. Meet me behind St. Anthony’s cloister.

Cellini: I’ll see you there!

(Fieramosca leaves; Teresa enters)

Ascanio: Here’s your sword, boss!

Teresa: Omg Cellini are you going to a duel??

Cellini: Relax, it’s just Fieramosca. (exit with Ascanio.)

Teresa: What if it’s an ambush????

Cellini’s workers (storming in) THAT’S IT WE’RE GOING ON STRIKE THESE WORKING CONDITIONS SUCK

Teresa: Oh heavens! What’s this ruckus? Come on, folks, just wait for Cellini to come back and talk about it!

Workers: NOPE WE’RE OUTTA HERE

(Fieramosca walks in)

Teresa: OMG FIERAMOSCA IS BACK WITHOUT CELLINI THAT MEANS CELLINI IS DEAD HE KILLED CELLINI (faints)

Workers: YOU KILLED OUR BOSS???

Fieramosca: What? No! Geez, this really is not my week. I’m just here to offer you the raise Cellini won’t give you.

Workers: NOPE WE’RE LOYAL TO CELLINI FORGET WHAT WE JUST SAID GET OUTTA HERE YOU RASCAL

Cellini: (coming back) What’s going on?

Teresa: (awake) OMG YOU’RE ALIVE

Cellini: ...was that ever in question? Oh, hey, Fieramosca, you’re just in time to help build the statue! Here’s an apron, get to work.

Fieramosca: What? I--

Everyone else: Get to work, or you’ll be taking another impromptu bath, but this time it’ll be in a sea of molten metal!

Fieramosca: YIKES! Okay, lead the way.

Everyone: COME ON LADS LET’S GET TO WORK

(the workers and Fieramosca head to the forge. Balducci enters with the Pope.)

Balducci: Teresa! What are you doing here?

Teresa: Uh, funny story.

Pope: So, Cellini, is my statue done yet?

Cellini: Nope, but it will be very soon.

Balducci: We’ll see about that.

Pope: You better be right.

Fieramosca: (running in) We need more metal for the statue!

Cellini: What, are you messing up my statue?? Let me go see (he runs to the forge)

Balducci: Fieramosca? What are you doing wearing an apron?

Fieramosca: Would you believe me if I said I got a new job?

Cellini: (coming back) Haha nothing to see here! Everything is going according to plan! We just need a bit more metal, that’s all, no biggie.

Workers: Just one problem: There is no more metal. And the fire’s going out. If we don’t get more metal in there quick, the whole thing will be ruined!

Balducci: Well, well, well, looks like I’m winning!

Cellini: NO THIS IS NOT THE END I REFUSE TO GIVE UP! Everyone, just grab anything metal and throw it in there!

Workers: What?? Even all your old work?

Cellini: I SAID EVERYTHING DIDN’T I

(Cellini, the workers, and Ascanio all start grabbing metal things and throwing them into the furnace)

Teresa: I can’t handle this stress!!

Pope: I can’t believe the nerve of this guy! Is it possible he could actually succeed?

(An explosion comes from the forge)

Cellini: OMG THIS IS IT I’M DONE FOR

Workers: WOOHOO WE DID IT LONG LIVE CELLINI

Cellini: We did it??

Workers: VICTORY! VICTORY!! LOOK AT THE STATUE ISN'T IT AMAZING

Fieramosca: CELLINI WE DID IT HOW ABOUT A HUG

Cellini: ...how about no

Pope: Well, Cellini, I didn't think I was going to be able to say this, but you made good on your word. I officially pardon your sins, and bless your marriage to Teresa. (He leaves.)

Cellini: YAYY TERESA

Teresa: YAYY CELLINI

Everyone: VICTORY!! LONG LIVE CELLINI!! IMMORTAL GLORY! GLORY TO THE METAL-WORKERS!!!!

The End

#Benvenuto Cellini #abbreviated operas #Hector Berlioz #Léon de Wailly #Henri Auguste Barbier #opera #opera tag

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sleepy-exe · 4 years ago

Text

Shapeshifter AU - 7

Iwaizumi x f!reader

<< Part 6 | Part 8 >>

Summary: Y/n goes to the park with Iwaizumi and finds a shapeshifter friend. Mizuki wants to know about this guy Y/n has been spending time with.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: none

Genre: sfw (18+ regardless), shapeshifter au, strangers to lovers

Part 7: We Could Be Friends

Y/n and Iwaizumi made plans to go to one of the forest parks nearly a week ago. But due to busy schedules, they didn't have any free days line up until now. This was the first time in awhile Y/n had been to a park in the forest in a long time. Which meant she wasn’t exactly the best guide. Luckily the park had marked paths through the area versus her usual running wild anywhere between the trees. Seeing sunshine through the trees may have been even prettier than the moonlight at night, tucked behind the treetops.

Used to the quietness of nocturnal animals and lack of any people, this area felt like another world even though they weren’t too far off from one of her frequented nighttime spots. Walking alongside Iwaizumi, she found herself almost constantly catching the sounds and movements of birds and small critters that she wouldn’t normally get to experience. She tried not to get distracted too much anytime Iwaizumi started talking. But with the new sounds and different scents through the trees, she couldn’t help but get distracted some.

“I thought you said you’ve been out here before,” Iwaizumi questioned, breaking her trance of the world around her.

“Huh? Oh.” She realized she had really slowed down her pace but quickly sped up again. “Yeah, but it's been a minute. It’s so.. alive here.”

“Alive? Isn’t fall kind of the opposite,” he said, crossing his arms. “And I mean, it's nice out here, but the way you keep looking around.. It’s like you’ve never seen such a place before.”

She laughed nervously. “Well, the last time I was out here I didn’t notice so many animals.”

He looked around, trying to spot something in the trees or fallen leaves, but other than a squirrel and a couple of birds he couldn’t find anything that could possibly be so interesting. But he decided not to argue. “Right,” fingers tapping his left bicep.

Soon they came across a stream off to the side of the designated path; likely the same stream that ran through where she sat with Sakusa a couple of weeks ago. Y/n took it upon herself to lead them off the path towards it. As she sat down in the leaves, Iwaizumi stood next to her, eyes narrowing. “Aren’t we supposed to stay on the paths?”

She looked up to him and smirked before bringing her attention to the water. “So? What, we might get yelled at? It’ll be fine.”

He watched her for a moment, then sat beside her. “I really don’t want to get kicked out of a park.”

She snickered. “Do you think this is any worse than showin’ up after dark? It’s fine! Just sit here and listen.”

He followed her command. ��..The birds?”

“Hmm. Yes, but not just those. You can hear the water move, the breeze shuffling leaves, and there’s either squirrels or chipmunks running around the trees and ground.. Just sit here and relax, listening and being in nature.” She looked around to where she heard each sound as she spoke.

But he can’t hear every sound that she can. “Yeah, I guess I can do that..”

She took the chance to stubbly take in the new sights and sounds, getting better attuned with her lively-to-her surroundings. They stayed like that for a few minutes, before she looked over to him and realized he had been staring at her. Her eyes widened for a split second. “Come on.” She shoved his shoulder with a playfully grin before standing and dusting off her pants. “We’re like what, half around this trail?” She grabbed his arm and dragged him back towards the path with her.

They walked along the path for a while. Watching squirrels run about and climb trees, listening to everything Y/n had pointed out.

Her phone started buzzing repeatedly, so she slipped it out of her pocket to check what’s going on.

>> From ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “r u out on that date yet?”

>> From ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “u said that’s today right?”

>> From ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “when am i going to meet him”

>> To ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “not a date. i told you that”

>> From ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “i barely know anything about him n dont even know what he looks like >:(“

>> From ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “come onnnnn i wanna see this guy that managed to get ur attention”

She chuckled. “It’s Mizuki.”

“How’s she?”

>> To ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “as if you and sakusa didnt get my attention”

>> To ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “what’s wrong with me having a new friend?”

>> From ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “yeah but sakusa was all but forced into our friendship and i forced my way into your heart so whooo forced this lil friendship-thing? Who do i have to thank for helping socialize our Y/n”

She gave an exasperated sigh. “Apparently dying to meet you.”

He raised his eyebrows and slid his hands in his pockets. “You talk about me to your friends?”

“Mmm.. Well, it's hard to keep things from her. It seems like she always finds a way.” She crinkled her nose as they passed a plant that had a strong odor to her, though Iwaizumi didn't seem phased. “That and she saw me texting ya the other day and had to ask questions.” She shook her head. “The ever curious, Mizu’.”

He laughed. “She sounds.. interesting to have around.”

She giggled. “She’s high energy, but she means well. She’s just curious.”

>> To ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “wow”

>> To ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “i am capable of making friends on my own you know”

>> From ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “uh huh and i’ll get to see him when?”

>> From ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “why are you hiding him ;P is he that hot that you want to hide him away lol”

>> From ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “love u”

“Maybe you should introduce us.” He bumped into her, grinning.

“If I do that she might drag you on last minute adventures. Which could range from running around downtown or staying in. But mostly out.” She gave a half shrug.

“That almost sounds like a complaint,” he said.

She waved a hand defensively. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the city and coming out here, but I prefer staying in more than she does.”

“Maybe we should have stayed in then.” He looked her over, noticing she was no longer looking around constantly. “Though you seem.. Not so overwhelmed now.”

She blushed in embarrassment. “Ah- Hmm, I’d say more like.. Deeply enjoying.. This place.”

He looked unimpressed by her poor explanation. “Uh huh.”

She cleared her throat and their conversation paused as they made their way to the end of the path. Enjoying the sights and sounds around them in the process.

“But really, I do love her and love having her around.” She giggled quietly to herself. “There’s not a dull moment with her. I may have to raise her spirits from time to time, but she can do the same for me.”

He smiled softly. “Sounds like you’re good friends.”

She hummed an agreement. “Maybe I will introduce you sometime.”

>> To ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “love you”

>> To ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “You became friends in college, right?” He tilted his head towards her.

She shook her head. “Yeah. We were both business majors and had a couple of classes together.. my second year, I think. And well, she has a way of befriending anyone. So next thing ya know, we were friends.”

Approaching the parking lot, they stopped to chat. Not having plans for if their little outing stopped here or not.

“Do you ever do anything other than go for walks or to bars in your free time?”

“I go out to eat,” she said matter-of-factly, then looked around the lot in front of them until she spotted her car. She found Iwaizumi’s green Tacoma several cars down from hers in the process.

He nodded slowly. “Okay.. but if those three things suddenly didn’t exist what would you do?”

She shrugs nonchalantly. “Guess I’d die.” She smirked.

He rolled his eyes and pointed to his truck. “So you don’t want to go to grab a bite then?”

“You have found my one true weakness,” she says dramatically with a hand on her chest and a sarcastic grin.

He shook his head. “Come on, follow me. There’s a little cafe not far from here, if that’s your thing. I can give you the address.”

She happily agrees at the promise of food and they head for her Civic. She drops into the driver’s seat and leaves the door wide open while Iwaizumi gives her the address. Once she has the GPS ready to go, he walks around the car to head for his truck. Kicking one leg outside the car, she texts Mizuki, deciding to entertain her with a selfie of the two from the beginning of their walk.

>> To ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “here”

>> To ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “Attachment.jpg”

>> From ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “ooohh!! owo”

>> From ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “he is HOT! no wonder you’re keeping him around”

>> From ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “you met at that bar?? damn maybe i should have joined you lmao”

Hopefully that’ll keep her happy for a bit.

“Hmm?” Blur of orange to her right catching her interest. A gorgeous red fox had appeared while she was preoccupied, walking around the open driver’s door. Her eyes widened at the sight. Foxes typically stayed away from her, but she was almost only ever out here as a wolf, so that’s only to be expected. The fox sat on the pavement, giving her a cheerful tail wag. She cooed, “Hey there lil’ fella.”

Immediately the fox’s ears pulled back, and she swears its face scrunched. Not a minute later the fox swiftly hopped into her car and onto her lap, completely catching her off guard.

“Ho?” She squinted. How strange. She would have never imagined such behavior from a wild fox; though there is a shifter that looks oddly similar that probably would crawl in her lap if given the opportunity. He does have the same set of face markings..

The realization of the situation hit her. “Oh! No no, hey! I’m not alone here!” She quietly scolded the shifter in her lap, looking over to where Iwaizumi had parked but she couldn’t spot his truck passed the other cars from here. “Ah shit, do you need a ride home?” She asked the fox shifter just before he hopped into the backseat.

“Okay, uh, hold on.” She quickly dialed Iwaizumi, “Hey, uh, sorry, um.. No, no.. A friend just got a hold of me and needs me to take them home.. Ah, no! He’s fine, just- ..Actually, can we just change locations? ..Yeah, no, he's remotely close to where you live, kinda, so if you want to go anywhere around there, I can meet you when I’m done or something.. Yeah, yeah! I think I know that place..” She peered into the backseat at the fox. Cupping the microphone and sighing, she whispers to the fox, “You’re lucky I love you.”

Back to the phone, “Okay! I’ll see you there! Sorry, again!” Hanging up, she started the car. “Stay down until we hit the highway. Don’t shift yet either.”

Part 8 >>

#shapeshifter!haikyuu #shapeshifter au #iwaizumi haijime x reader #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi fanfic #iwaizumi x y/n #iwaizumi scenarios #haikyuu fanfic #strangers to friends #strangers to lovers

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ziracona · 4 years ago

Note

T-The gang playing Among Us? Oh!? That's chaos I'd love to know more of!

They had a lot of legendary matches, but the three best were with Dwight and Jake as imposters, Quentin and Jane as imposters, and Jake and David as imposters.

So, Quentin and Jane get imposter pretty early. Jane is competitive, and does a great job. Pulls off some legendary kills with lights off in the middle of a group. Quentin and she tag team well, and provide alibis a few times without being suspicious. Gets down to him and Jane still alive, four crewmembers left. Crewmembers have lost three and ejected one, and know they’re in deep. One more kill will probably lose them the game. Claudette, Nea, Adam, and Jeff are still up. Meg ejected, David, Susie, and Min killed. Claudette is off with Quentin for repairs. Jane kills Nea across the ship. Nobody has found the body/reported, but he knows that she went with Nea and wants to get one and have him kill another, and Jane works fast so he knows it’s probably already happened, and as soon as he kills her He kills it’s game. But when they’re pairing off in chat no one wants to go with Claudette bc she found two of the bodies and has been alone a lot, so he volunteered too be nice,’ but jokingly was like “You’re not gonna kill me though, right?” And she was like “No! Of course. I’m not an imposter, and even if I was, you offered to come with me even though it was risky so I wouldn’t be a sitting duck alone. I’d never kill you. : )” and the guilt is so real. She’s just happily bouncing alongside walking to a dark corner to repair a sabotage, totally security, total faith in him. Philip has been banned from Among Us because when they played Mafia he sold out his team because he didn’t want to kill Claudette and Quentin knows the stakes but he can’t take it. Is super ready and in position to off her, but. :’-] She’s so trusting. She was like “if one of the others pops up and comes at us, you run away and I’ll slow them down, so you have time to report and call in who it was and can save the others. You died last round and I didn’t so you should get to make it this time if one of us can’t!” And Jeff walked past a doorway while they were walking and she ran out in front of him just in case and he can’t do it. Gets her to come with him and runs off and bc she trusts him she follows. They book all the way to Nea’s body, which Quentin knew would be there, and Quentin reports, goes “I’m an imposter and Jane’s the other one I can’t do it just kill us” and throws the match. Jane is furious, then decides it’s actually hilarious and doesn’t mind. Quentin has to go sit the next six matches out in the shame corner with Philip, though, but Claudette is happy. Until she gets super tunneled for like six matches back to back.

Jake and David get imposter while Quentin is still in the banned corner. They have an agressive strategy that causes so much constant pandemonium it’s really hard to think. It’s going great—Susie, Nea, and Dwight dead. Forced all votes to a pass becuase no one knew shit, except one time, which bumped off an incredulous Adam. Kate, Laurie, Min, and Meg still up. They see Kate and Laurie off near each other, go to kill both. Laurie dies, and Kate sees Jake coming, connects two dots, and books. Runs for where Laurie was last. David is on cooldown and can’t touch her. Makes it to Laurie’s body right before Jake is in range, fkn by the skin of her teeth, reports body, screams to the chat it was David and Jake. David and Jake are like “she’s flipping out becuase we saw her kill Laurie” and Kate is like “Listen to me. We’re down to three. One more dies, it’s all over. If we vote off Jake, and one of us can hit the emergency meeting button right after, we win. We’re at the table, it hasn’t been used. If not we dont do this, and pass a vote, or vote the wrong person, or anything, we die. Min you know it’s not me. I don’t have an alibi but you were railing on me for being a predictable imposter when we were a team, becuase I killed the people who trusted me last. You know I’d never kill Laurie before Jake.” And Min’s like “Damn she makes a good point 🤔” & Meg is like “Mmm and if Jake and David were together when she made the call, then if Kate is an imposter, it can’t be either of them. Becuase they’d have just killed the other and won if it was Kate and one of them. So that would mean it’s me or Min and her, and it’s not me, and it’s not Min. Because Nea died right after Susie, and Min would have either killed Nea first or last for the drama and maybe not at all, and I am not killing my girl like that. So it’s not us. So it can’t be Kate. So it’s Jake and David.” And they vote off Jake and it’s a “who can slam a button first” contest the second the meeting ends, but Min gets lucky and is immediately able to call a meeting before David can even kill another and they get David too, and win.

The Dwight and Jake match was second to last one, and they’d both had failed turns as imposters before, and some quite frustrating, and during a snack break together were like “Ok if it’s ever us, here’s the plan.” Keep not getting picked together though. Claudette is frustrated to tears because after Quentin gave up for her, people keep killing her, and last match she got voted off when she knew who the killer was, and she is sad because no one listened /and/ they killed her. Gets imposter and tries really hard, but gets unlucky and kills like right when someone is checking cameras and it’s legit just bad luck, but gets teased and is not happy about it. Jake and Dwight are like, ‘Hey. So you’re annoyed too right? What do you say to being in on our plan. We could pull off the /ultimate/ scam. If we ever get picked.’ And she’s like “I don’t know I don’t want to play sneaky...” but then she gets killed first by Nea, again, like, 13 seconds in, and is like >:-[ “ok yes I want to scam.” So they hash out a plan. And then? Second to last round? They finally get imposter and the boys are like 😏.

So. Dwight and Jake do the totally normal seeming little pre-determined movement that is code to Claudette it’s them and it’s game time. Dwight and Claudette go to the same area, Dwight kills her, Jake sees him, immediately reports. Avenges Claudette and outs him, Dwight is ejected as imposter. Acts betrayed by Jake for not covering and Jake is like “I’m a boyfriend, but I draw the line at murder” and they hold character really wells Survivors feeling great. Round one seems to be a big win. It ain’t. It’s a trap. From here on, Dwight causes basically /all/ sabotages, step by step doing it where some teammate went solo as a ghost imposter, or near where Jake sneaks off to kill someone, but is careful to make sure he gets clear. They get doors shut, lights out, it’s executed to perfection. Whoever dies is usually a person who walked off with someone else, or Jake has an alibi, and he’s never near the issues. Always with someone except the very first time there’s a sabotage. Also, he’s out there doing Crewmate tasks, which have /always/ been done like he says, which he shouldn’t be able to do as an imposter, but people see him. So? And he kills Nea, Laurie finds and reports, Meg is voted off. One imposter left, five Crewmates: Laurie, Quentin (finally allowed back in), Jeff, Kate, and Min. Kate is killed, Quentin finds and reports. They pass on a vote becuase numbers are dwindling and they just don’t know, but Laurie hella suspects Jake. Says “I think you voted off Dwight to make yourself look innocent.” Jake is like “I swear to god, I can prove it. I have been doing my tasks—Jeff, you were with me! You saw!” And Jeff is like “I wasn’t paying a bunch of attention but I think he’s telling the truth. I’m pretty sure I saw him using the canons—like 90%.” So they pass on a vote. At Laurie’s insistence, though, they go in a group and Jake is like “watch. Could an imposter do /this/?” And does a Crewmate task. Bodyscans himself for all the world to see. Only, he doesn’t. Claudette’s ghost does, like she has been. But uh. Since none of them can /see/ it. 😏 And Laurie is like “Well shoot. I thought I was onto something.” Min finds that sus, and when Jeff turns up dead a little bit later, convinces the others to vote off Laurie. Leaving her, Quentin, and Jake. And Jake immediately kills her, leaving Quentin up per Claudette’s request, and snags a win that makes everyone lose their mind until it is explained how they did it. The trio could not be more smug. Claudette feels a little bad because they kiiinda cheated? Technically broke no rules, but, it was a dick move. But Min is like “Nah if I died first for six rounds in a row and then the one time I saw a murder my team voted me off, and proceeded to have the gall to ignore my good intel and lose, I too would have totally done that” and she feels better. Jake has 0 regrets and neither does Dwight period. Last round is just a normal chill one, and less memorable, but that second to last lives on in infamy. Also makes people super suspicious forever about what they can trust as proof of crewmate. Jake loves the legacy. 😏 Dream-team trio really did that.

#ask #panna-pan #in living memory (fic)#in living memory #ilm spoilers #dead by daylight

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imnotwolverine · 4 years ago

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The marriage pact - Puppy kisses

Henry Cavill x OC Alice - multi-chapter

< Part 10 | Part 11 Puppy kisses | Part 12 >

Disclaimer: none, just fluff

Author’s note: This is my 100th post! YASSSS!! I love you all so much my darling readers; puppy kisses and much love to you!

Word count: 1.350

(Link to my Masterlist)

Dear readers,

Do you remember your first kiss? I do. I was fourteen years old, it was late summer, life was simple and expectations were high. I was a dreamer and I had completely indulged myself in anything fantastical. Any rom-com available I had seen, any prince-saves-the-maiden story had been on my reading list and honestly; I thought I was ready.

Was I though? Apparently not really. At least not to get what I expected would be that picture perfect first kiss. Sure, it was a wonderful day, a date at the zoo, he was a year older than me and he would hold my hand the whole time. We’d eat small bites in the sandy dunes, the wind whipping in our hair. And then he’d lean over, just like in the movies. But, unlike in the movies, we weren’t quite prepared for the following; his hair getting stuck in my braces and..well..you may know that I was absolutely horrified, my cheeks tomato red and the whole moment terribly ruined due to my shaken nerves.

He brought me home, ever so galant, and there was that. I didn’t even want to try again when we said goodbye at my doorstep, because.. I was simply too embarrassed. In fact it took me a whole year before I’d even think about giving love, puppy love, another try. With the same boy, actually. And the more I now think about it, the sillier, but also sweeter the memory has become, all little annoyances and fears having faded to the background. And now all that lasts are those adorably sweet puppy kisses.

Did you have a nice first kiss dear readers?

An ever curiouser and curiouser,

Ali

IVF, IUI, at-home insemination or just some natural insemination after a “fun little night at the club”. Reproductive lawyers, medical safety, parental rights, sperm donor agreements. The terms were buzzing like a dark misty cloud of concern through my muddled brain, my tea long gone cold on my night stand and my legs getting painful from sitting crouched down on my bed for so long.

Somewhere I wished I could talk to my mom about this, to anyone about this, but I felt ashamed. So terribly ashamed. Why was something that seemed so natural and simple to everyone else, seem so terribly difficult (and expensive) to me. Pushing away my laptop I sighed, long legs finally getting a stretch as I pushed myself off the bed, my arms reaching above my head as if I were a large cat just waking up from a nice slumber.

Did you know a cat can have up to five litters a year? That’s so..many..babies. Ugh! ALI, cut it out! No more baby thoughts.

Sulking visibly, I walked over to my desk, looking out over the late afternoon sun, my mom working in the garden, dad’s feet sticking out from beneath a deep blue umbrella, shielding him from the October sun. Why was everything so damn hard? I sighed and let my eyes drift further, the Cavill house some 100 meters further up.

Would Henry be at home right now?

Henry, Henry, Henry. Was he too good to be true? Weren’t we just once more living this late-summer fantasy like we had quite a few times before. We had been boyfriend and girlfriend for more times than I could count on one hand, nearly two hands. And every time life got in the way. Would that happen again? I felt the melancholy in my heart grow, my eyes slipping back to a sheet of paper that was laying beneath my finger tips.

The pact.

Rainbow coloured and handwritten, both our names neatly placed on the bottom line, some first attempts at personal signatures scribbled beneath it. “In the case of neither one of us were to be married by the age 35 (thirty-five), we vow to marry each other. Signed. Henry William Dalgliesh Cavill. Alice Mary Taylor.”

How silly we..-

*BZZ BZZ*

I looked up from my thoughts, eyes roving towards my phone.

Henry bear: Hey! Look out the window! ;)

And so I did, my eyes first looking back at my parents. Was he in our garden? Nope. On the road towards our house? Nope. And then I noticed something move behind the windows of his parents’ house. The attic. Where I knew he still had his room. Waving happily - which was really silly looking for a 38 year old man - he finally managed to attract my attention. I burst out in a fit of chuckles.

Oh Henry.

With mild exaggeration he blew me a few kisses, and like the old days I reached out for them, catching them and placing them carefully by my heart. Nothing much had truly changed, had it?

*BZZZ-BZZZZZZ BZZZZZZ*

And now he was calling. Shaking my head in slight disbelief, an amused smile still stuck to my lips, I answered.

‘Hi.’ I grinned.

‘Hey.’ I could hear the smile in his voice, the timber much deeper and grown-up then it had been all those long years ago.

‘Whatcha doin’?’ I asked, my eyes looking back at him through his attic window.

‘Reading your blog actually.’

‘Are you now?’

‘And I can remember that kiss terribly well.’ He chuckled. I could see from the far distance that he was very amused, pearly whites shining in the afternoon sun. ‘Mhm.’ I hummed. Then he continued; ‘And just for your information; I truly didn’t hate it. If anything I loved you more for it.’

‘But.. I practically ran away.’

‘Maybe a little yes.’

‘Sorry about that Hen.’

‘It’s okay Ali. We have more than made for up it through the years.’

‘Hennn..’ I admonished, the humour dripping through my voice. He was right though. We had gotten pretty good at kissing..and everything else too. Oh Henry…

He hummed, pleased, then clicked his tongue.

‘You were actually the first girl that gave me any kind of real attention. I mean, I was a bit of a late bloomer when it came to girls.’

‘I guess we both were a tad awkward in our teenage years..’ I agreed.

‘Or just well ahead of the crowd.’ He chuckled.

‘Really though, what did it do to you, seeing your classmates hit on girls..and you know..succeed?’

‘I got super insecure, honestly. I mean, my first real kiss was outside a school dance and the girl was already running away before the snog was over...’

‘And then I practically ran away too..’ I sniffled. ‘Sorry Hen.’

‘Hahah..yea..poor me. But at least I knew you well. The kiss may have been a touch awkward, but I was crazy into you. I wanted more than just some physical affection. I wanted you.’

I felt my breath choke and without further ado, he continued; ‘I may have to confess that when I had to do my first on-screen kiss, with like an entire crew around and my nerves flaring up high..I thought of ..eh..gosh this is embarrassing...’

‘Our first kiss?’ I teased, trying to not let the butterflies take the overhand. Somehow I was glad we were so far apart. I could feel the cute giddiness of that first love between us all over again. Perhaps it was even love once more.

Was I in love?

‘I thought of you..yes. Though not of our first kiss. Or our second or third kiss. I eh..’ He looked straight at me, the long distance between us suddenly not feeling so far anymore. I could practically see the shimmer in those blue eyes.

‘..Our first time?’ I gulped, remembering every gentle caress and eager cloth tug far too well. We had been 16 and 17. And where our first kiss might have been awkward, our first time? Heck. It still brought me tingles.

‘Yes.’ He said huskily.

Oh yes..tingles. I shifted slightly, squeezing my legs together almost involuntarily, breath choking, the phone line on both ends quiet except for deep, focused breaths. In..and..out..in..and..

‘Can I come over?’ He rasped.

‘Yes please.’ I muttered, feeling those same darn butterflies flutter wildly through my belly.

Was I in love?

Good question.

General tagsquad: @harrysthiccthighss @tumblnewby @magdelen69 @thereisa8ella @mary-ann84 @darkbooksarwin @summersong69

Fluff lovers squad: @star017 @perhaps2remember @pterodactylterrace @witchersqueen @desperate-and-broken @toomanyfandomsshreya @deliciouslysassyarcade @pamacs-macs @cavilladdict @scorpionchild81 @lebguardians @sofiebstar @amberbabem @mis-lil-red @aestheticqueenb @misslalaland-blog-blog @ilieherecharmed-fics2readnrec @michelehansel @henryfanfics101

Want to be added to or removed from the tag list? Shoot me a message!

#henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill x author #henry cavill x OC #fluff #puppy kisses #memories #the marriage pact

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theotherackerman · 3 years ago

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My Mind Turns Your Life Into Folklore

NOTES: January 2nd, Saturday

chapter six: the long way home

Levi saw the notification as he was still holding Mikasa’s phone.

He thought about erasing it for a moment but thought it wasn’t fair to Mikasa. She was an adult now, she had to make her own choices.

Besides, Levi hadn't been perfect in relationships when he was her age.

He would give the Jaeger boy this second chance but if Eren hurt Mikasa again, he would bury him where no one would find him.

No matter what Mikasa said.

He walked over to Mikasa and handed her the phone.

“Make whatever decision you’ll regret least, “ he told her before walking away.

Mikasa was confused about what Levi had said to her until she looked down at her phone. She had a text from Eren. Suddenly, she became very aware of her lyrics. The song was about Eren, there was no doubt about it.

“Do you see all these followers we have now? Look, the band’s instagram is blowing up! We didn’t even livestream from that one!” Sasha exclaimed, pulling her from her thought.

“We didn’t but it looks like someone posted the video Niccolo sent you on his band’s Instagram,” Annie said as she turned her phone around. “He tagged the band and all of us in it.”

The Restorationists would like to introduce @NoName to their biggest fans. Great song! Looking forward to your next livestream! Who thinks we should collaborate with this awesome girl band? @potatogirlsasha @ladyymirlangnar @historia_reiss @femaleleonhart @ackerman_mikasa

PING! Mikasa’s phone went off again. She looked down at the screen.

TXT FROM EREN JAEGER (2)

Eren had sent her two texts.

Did he watch?

What did he think of the song?

What if he hated it?

What if he thought the whole band was a joke?

Would the lyrics she wrote make him mad and not want to tell her the truth?

"I don't know about you but I'm exhausted," Connie said as he stretched.

"Really? I'm running on a post concert high!" Sasha exclaimed.

"It wasn't even a concert. It was one song!"

"Why do you have to ruin my fun, Connie? It was good and you know it!”

“I never said it wasn’t good. I just said that it was only one song.”

“You two argue like a married couple,” Ymir pointed out.

“We do not!” Connie and Sasha said at the exact same time.

“I’m with Connie though, I’m exhausted,” Jean chimed in.

BOOM!

Thunder cracked through the sky.

“Great, that’s all going to freeze on the driveway again,” Levi pointed out as he sat down on the couch. Sawney crawled up into his lap.

“I really don’t want to drive in that,” Connie said. “Levi….”

“Fine,” Levi answered already knowing what Connie was going to ask.

“And you say you don’t miss them,” Hange remarked as they picked up Bean from the floor.

Mikasa’s phone felt like it was burning in her hand. She wanted to look, she really did. However, she did not want to see the messages in front of everyone.

It would have to wait.

Eren could wait.

A few hours later, it had become an acceptable time to go to sleep. Mikasa excused herself from her friends and disappeared into her bedroom.

She finally clicked on the notification that sat on her home screen.

Eren Jaeger:

Nice song. I mean that. You’ve always been really good with lyrics. I’m still trying to get to your

level.

Eren Jaeger:

The bridge was my favorite. You should sing more.

Oh.

So he had heard then.

What did she even say to that?

Thanks for breaking my heart so we could get some of the best songs we’ve ever written?

No, that sounded stupid.

Why was it so hard to talk to Eren now?

Why was it so awkward?

Oh right.

Because he had gone and ruined everything because he thought she was going to run away from him.

She could write songs about her break ups, her friends’ break ups, and compose lyrics that exposed her soul for all to see.

Yet she could come up with a single reply to Eren’s text?

She wanted to chuck her phone at the wall in frustration.

She felt filled with rage again.

Why was she so damn angry anymore?

She knew why.

All of her problems led back to Eren.

She heard Armin tell everyone downstairs that he was also going to bed.

Mikasa took this moment to step out of her room.

“I need your help,” she said as she grabbed Armin’s arm and pulled him into her room.

She explained everything: the kiss at the club, the meeting at the graveyard, the song that she had written to lines with Eren in the moment, the DUI Eren had, going back to Eren’s house, the kiss at his house,how she had told Eren that Eren needed to go explain everything to her and Armin, the awkward conversation with Zeke at Eren’s house, and finally, she showed him the text messages.

When she was finished, Armin spoke.

“He doesn’t need to explain anything to me.”

“What? Armin, he hit you.”

“Only because I hit him first. That was only because of what he was saying to you. I stopped speaking to Eren because of you. He was hurting someone I love, I wanted to put an end to it. You would do the same if I said those things to Annie or if Annie said those things to me. You’re the one he needs to explain everything to, not me. If he tells you and you forgive him, I will forgive him too.”

Leave it to Armin to make her feelings into something logical. He wasn’t wrong though.

“What do I do then?”

“Whatever you want to do, Mikasa. It’s not up to any of us.”

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

Ymir loved Historia, more than she could ever express in words. She was actually really bad with words and she didn’t know how to get better at them. Her jealousy was a large part of her problems. Maybe it was because she had waited so long to confess her feelings to Historia. She had to sit there, watching the woman she loved date other people.

It was 1:00 am when she left her room. She had given up on trying to sleep for the time being. It wasn’t like they had had anything planned for the following day anyway. She should have been tired seeing as how they had started moving at 7:00 am on the previous day.

But sleep evaded her.

When she made her way downstairs, she saw Mikasa sitting in the sunroom. Mikasa’s headphones were plugged into the keyboard. Ymir watched as she played for a moment before going over and lifting the headphones off of Mikasa.

This caused Mikasa to jump, Ymir laughed.

“What are you doing up?” Mikasa asked as she removed her headphones completely.

“Couldn’t sleep. You?”

“I couldn’t either,” she responded before handing Ymir her phone.

There were two text messages from Eren on it.

“So are you going to reply?” Ymir asked before she handed the phone back.

Mikasa shrugged, “I’m not sure what to say. So I came here to write but none of the lyrics make sense. They’re all just....words.”

“Lyrics tend to be words, you know?”

Mikasa glared at her.

“Do you ever think you’re overthinking it? I mean, there’s not much being said there. He likes your lyrics, he likes your voice. Just say thank you and be done with it, simple enough?” Ymir asked as she sat down on the piano bench next to Mikasa.

“Do you think I should give him a second chance?”

Ymir shrugged, “that’s something you have to answer for yourself.”

“Would you?”

Ymir paused, wondering if her and Historia were in the same situation if she would forgive her.

The answer was simple, she would.

If Historia said awful things to her, then explained, she would forgive her.

Her love for Historia never had strings attached.

It had been unconditional.

She knew Mikasa was the same way with Eren.

She had seen the pain she knew too well when they had gone to high school together. She had seen how Mikasa longed to be the one dancing with Eren just like how she had longed to be the one dancing with Historia.

“I’d make him explain. Then go from there but staying up all night, that’s not going to help you. Go to sleep, wake up tomorrow with a clear head.”

Mikasa simply nodded before she turned off the keyboard.

Ymir sat in the sunroom for a moment.

She really should have taken her own advice.

She should go to bed and wake up tomorrow with a clear head.

So Ymir went back to bed.

After about twenty minutes of tossing and turning, Ymir got out of bed. She went into Mikasa’s room and collapsed on the empty side of Mikasa’s bed.

“Still can’t sleep?” Mikasa asked her.

“No, you?”

“No.”

“We’re a mess, aren’t we?”

Mikasa laughed. “We’re the same.”

“Why do we keep sacrificing our happiness for others? Why can’t I just tell her what I’m feeling and that I hate that she left for a few days? That I hate how easy it is for her to throw everything away. Why did I let her just brush my feelings off as a joke and continue acting like they were a joke all of high school? That I proposed marriage so many times as a joke but I was being serious? I want to marry her. I want a stupid white picket picket fence surrounding a stupid house where we live happily married. Why can't I just tell her that? Why can't I just say you hurt me and I don't think you want me as much as I want you?"

“Because you know it’ll hurt her too.”

Ymir grabbed the pillow from behind her head and smothered her own face with it.

“We’re stupid,” Ymir mumbled.

“That we are. Goodnight, Ymir.”

“Goodnight, Mika.”

#mmtylif #My writing

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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Stupid For You, Chapter 5 (Crygi, Jankie, Jaida x Nicky) - Metaluna

Summary: In which everyone makes mistakes, and have to face consequences.

A/N: Hey everyone! This does have a tw of domestic abuse.

The rest of the month went by smoothly for Jaida. She got to be team lead for most of her shifts, much to the jealousy of her coworkers. She didn’t care. She knew she was damn good at her job, and paid her dues for the past few years. It was what she deserved. Part of her was sad knowing it was her last summer at the park, but the idea of law school was much more exciting than telling guests that they had to put shoes on all summer.

She and Nicky continued their fling. It was some of the best sex Jaida had ever had. Jaida could feel herself developing feelings for Nicky, but rather than address them, she just ignored them. They’d go away on their own right?

She woke up at noon. Because there weren’t many leads in Sales, she worked six days a week, and it was her first day off in twelve days. She deserved to sleep in. Her phone buzzed. It was Nicky texting the groupchat.

Heyy ladies, I’m off today. Does anyone want to play in the park today?

This was her shot. Even though she and Nicky spent a lot of time together, they didn’t ever get the chance to just talk. Even after they hooked up, Nicky usually left pretty soon after, always having a reason to not hang out after.

First day off in 12. I’m down.

Nicky texted back quickly. See you at 2.

Jaida peered into her closet, and suddenly, she hated every single article of clothing that she owned. After rifling through shirts, and trying on different outfit combinations, she eventually settled on a cropped black tank top and army green shorts.

Out of all of her coworkers, Jaida lived the furthest away. The half hour drive gave Jaida time to think. She knew that she felt differently about Nicky than she did with any of the previous flings. Even though she had her flings, none of them ended in a relationship. When she thought about Nicky, images flashed in her head of dinner dates, picking pumpkins, and curling up on the couch watching a movie. She had to do it. She had to bring Nicky to the Ferris wheel. If they went up together, they could talk it out.

When Jaida arrived, it was only 1:40. The Landing, where the stores were, was in the front of the park, just off the entrance. She decided that she could harass her coworkers. Before entering Isle Mercantile, she saw Gigi walking with a cart full of beach towels.

“Gigi!” she called.

“Jaida! Hi! I saw you’re hanging with Nicky.” Gigi raised an eyebrow. “What exactly is going on with you?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I really don’t.”

Gigi pushed her cart into a shady corner under the roof. “Here. Come over here. Step into my office.”

Jaida rolled her eyes and sighed. “It’s just so hard. I like her, and obviously she likes me enough to fuck me, but I don’t know that she likes me enough to date me.”

Her phone buzzed. Jackie.

Girl. I saw you were coming into the park with Nicky. Are you going to talk it out?

She decided she could reply later and continued. “It’s so embarrassing but I’ve never had a girlfriend. I don’t know how to have this conversation. I doubt she likes me.”

“If you guys have manage to hook up as many times as you have, I feel like you’ve got something there.”

“Thanks, Gigi. Hey, what’s been up with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You just seem a lot less happy. Are you okay?”

Gigi nodded a little too quickly. “I’m fine! Anyway, Jaida if I don’t stock these towels, Brita’s gonna be pissed!”

Her phone buzzed again. It was Nicky.

I’m here. Meet at the food trucks!

After walking to the trucks, Jaida spotted Nicky at a table. The sunlight was hitting the blonde in just the right spots, making the her look even more beautiful than normal.

Jaida decided to sneak up behind Nicky. “Boo, bitch.”

She jumped, nearly falling out of her chair. “You bitch!”

“Let’s go ride the Jinn. I haven’t done it yet this year.”

While in line, she decided to text Jackie back.

I really want to, but I don’t know what to say, or how to bring it up. All I know that this feels different. This isn’t the same as all the others for the past three years. I can’t describe it. I really, really like Nicky. I want to take the next step, but I don’t know if she does.

As she hit “send” she returned her phone to her pocket, right as Nicky picked hers up.

Jaida knew what she did. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. How could she be so stupid?

“So, that didn’t go to Jackie. Jaida…” Nicky began. “Is this true?”

Jaida was hoping to bring Nicky up in the Ferris wheel. Even though things never fell in her favor, it was a comforting place. The line they were in was a 30 minute wait. They had nothing but time to talk it out. Even though it wasn’t ideal, Jaida nodded. “It is.”

Nicky sighed. “Jaida, I like you, I really do.”

This is exactly how every other girl began when they wanted to cut things off.

“And it’s not you it’s me?” Jaida predicted.

“It’s a cliché, I know. But I have so much going on right now, that I really can’t date anyone, not just you. Jaida, I really do like you. A lot. In other circumstances, we would already be dating, but right now I can’t give you what you want. I understand if you don’t want to keep doing… what we’re doing. I will respect your decision either way.”

“No worries!” Jaida said happily, even though she felt like she was going to cry. “I’m totally fine with what we have.”

“Are you sure?”

“I promise.”

For the fourth year in a row, Jaida felt her heart break. She was left wondering if things were better had she taken Nicky for a ride in the Ferris wheel.

—–

After her shift, Gigi sat at her desk sketching a dress. She felt her phone buzz.

can you come over

Yea. Everything all good?

I’ll be there in ten

Gigi made the ten minute drive in five. Crystal answered the door. Her eyes were red, it was easy to tell that she’d been crying the past few hours. Her hair was disheveled, and she was wearing an oversized sweat shirt. “Come in.”

Wordlessly, Crystal led Gigi into her bedroom. All of her walls were hand painted beautifully, each wall with a different color scheme. Her room was slightly messy, but still somehow organized. A picture of Harry Styles hung above the bed. An easel was in the corner with an abstract painting. The closet door was propped open, exposing Crystal’s brightly colored clothing.

“Talk to me,” Gigi said said as she and Crystal sat on her bed.

Crystal started crying as she sat down. “It’s Ryan.”

“What happened?“

“We started talking about me going off to college in a couple months. Usually when we talk about it, he won’t talk about it. Well, I needed answers… and I got them. He told me that if I didn’t stay home, he would break up with me.”

“Oh, Crystal.”

Gigi was pissed. She knew how hard Crystal worked to get into the graphic design program. The school they were to attend in the fall wasn’t easy to get into. It had a 50 percent acceptance rate. Crystal was too talented to let that go to waste. The audacity of that boy to ask her to throw that all away. She wanted to tell Crystal everything she was thinking, but instead, she held Crystal and stroked her hair.

“We’ve been together since we were fifteen. I don’t know how to live without him, you know?”

“Mmm.”

“I just love him so much, I don’t think I can leave him. I think I’m going to withdraw my application from Ferris.”

“Crystal, no. You can’t. You worked your ass off to get into that school. You know you did.”

“I know. But I love him.” Crystal rubbed her eyes, causing her sleeve to roll down, revealing a deep bruise.

Gigi gasped. “Did he do that to you?”

“He didn’t do it on purpose! He said I was being unreasonable, and he was right. He just needs to calm me down sometimes, you know?”

“No, Crystal. I don’t know. That’s not okay, under any circumstance. I don’t care if you cheated on him. That does not give him the right to ever put his hands on you.”

“I’m so stupid. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have even applied to that school in the first place.”

“Absolutely none of this is your fault. Please don’t ever say that it is.”

Crystal sighed. “I think I need to stay here.”

“I think you’re wrong. But, what I do think is that Ryan’s bad for you.”

“How fucking dare you.” Crystal’s voice was harsher than Gigi had ever heard it. “You don’t know him like I do. He’s known me a hell of a lot longer than you have.”

“Crystal…” Gigi felt tears forming.

“No. Don’t start. You don’t understand what all we’ve been through. How could you? You could never understand because you’ve been alone your entire life. You can’t let people in. Even me. You’ve been weird as shit every single day since the party, and won’t tell me why. All you do is shut people out when they’re trying to help you. Me, Jan, Jaida, Jackie… We’ve all tried to ask you what was wrong, because clearly something’s wrong. You don’t let people in, or you get fucking pissy. Why? It’s not our faults that your dad fucking left. Stop taking it out on us.”

Gigi sat completely stunned.

Crystal realized what she had said. “Gigi… I didn’t mean… I’m so sorry. I–”

“I think it’s time for me to go. Find your own ride to work, or walk your ass there. I don’t care. Don’t text me. Don’t fucking talk to me.”

“Gigi, wait!” Crystal called. But it was too late.

–

On the drive home, Gigi felt her chest tighten and knew a panic attack was starting. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to drive, she pulled into a parking lot. All she could think of were Crystal’s words which cut her like a knife. Gigi knew that Crystal wasn’t a cruel person, and that it was all in the heat of the moment, but it didn’t matter. Gigi didn’t even know where the words came from, why out of nowhere Crystal would bring up Gigi’s behavior in that conversation, and she really didn’t know why she brought her dad into it.

Her phone lit up.

gigi, i am so fucking sorry. idk where that came from. i don’t mean it. i hope you know that. that was fucked for me to say. so fucked. i understand if you don’t want to reply and need your space, but know that I am so fucking sorry, and ill never forgive myself for what i said. i can tell what i said really hurt you, and i understand if you dont want to talk, but just know if you ever do, i’m always here to listen

Gigi started typing.

Yeah, that WAS fucked. That fucking hurt me more than I could say. When I said my dad wasn’t a good person, I meant it. When I had my first girlfriend, I came out to my parents. My dad wanted to throw my ass out, and my mom wouldn’t let him, and said that it if I wasn’t out of the house, he was going to leave. My mom would never throw me out, so now he’s gone. It fucked with me. You wonder why I can’t people let me in? That’s why. I’m fucked up, and you’re right. I do need my space. Leave me alone.

She reread her response, and decided she didn’t owe Crystal an explanation, and deleted every word of the text.

—

Crystal was laying on her bed looking up at the ceiling, which was painted like a galaxy. How could she be that cruel? Her words were volatile. Crystal didn’t know the whole story. Even if she did, it wasn’t right to bring it up, especially not like that.

She had to make it right. She sat on her phone, trying to formulate the perfect apology text. A text felt so impersonal, but Gigi hated talking on the phone, and hated Facetiming. Crystal knew that a text would be the best thing she could do. After rereading her text a few times, she hit Send.

Gigi was typing something. Something long. Crystal anxiously waited for her reply, but the three dots disappeared. Instead, she was left with Read.

The pain Crystal felt was stronger than anything before. It was worse than anytime Ryan laid his hands on her. It was worse than the time he cheated on her. It was worse than anything, and she had no idea how she was going to make it right.

#rpdr fanfiction #gigi goode #crystal methyd #jan sport #jackie cox #jaida essence hall #nicky doll #crygi #jankie #jaida x nicky #lesbian au #stupid for you #metaluna #tw abuse #submission #s12

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innocent-until-proven-geeky · 4 years ago

Note

for the character thing; cody, obi wan, and ur oc pova (is that how you spell it?)

YEAHYEAHYEAH (also that is how you spell it) I see we’re doing the whole family and I LOVE it.

I was in the middle of answering this and then I went to find my favorite episodes and Tumblr ate whatever I was working on sooooo I start over.

Cody

Why I like them: Sass. Fandom’s interpretation as Ultimate Big Brother (behind Alpha-17, of course). Mysterious scar. And he’s pretty.

Why I don’t: Honestly? The fact that the clones are slave soldiers, and the fact that fandom tends to give racially biased interpretations of the clones (I’m guilty of this too). Nothing to do with Cody himself, honestly, which isn’t to say he’s perfect or anything, I find him to be rough around the edges but who wouldn’t be in his shoes?

Favorite episode: s1e16 The Hidden Enemy. This one is probably on my top 5 list even without Cody. But guys. GUYS. “Hey there, Slick. Gun’s empty.” WHAT COULD BE MORE ICONIC?

Favorite film: Okay technically these questions were “episode/scene if a movie” and “season/movie” but because he’s in both I’m gonna have to go with a film for this one. Revenge of the Sith. Listen, I can’t watch ROTS without crying but damn if I don’t love Cody in it anyway. The lightsaber scene will ALWAYS get me. (Season 1 gets an honorable mention.)

Favorite line: Uh. Well. Okay so. “Hey there, Slick. Gun’s empty.” *holds up mag* LISTEN GUYS I LOVE THAT ONE. Although he also gets points for “I’m putting you in charge of this one.” I don’t know if season 1 just has a lot of iconic Cody lines, or if it’s because I’ve been watching that season in Spanish lately.

Favorite outfit: ... his armor? No actually though, I love his Phase II armor. Phase I is cool but Phase II has the cool ventilators. And how can I not make fun of his antenna?

OTP: Codywan. Ideally in a post-war fix-it or semi-fix-it where there isn’t a huge power imbalance, but I’ve been known to read Codywan stuff that takes place during the war, especially before I was as cognizant of the power imbalance as I am now.

BroTP: Cody and Rex. I’m sure y’all saw that one coming. I mean it’s CODY and REX, I’m pretty sure that’s everyone’s BroTP!

Headcanon: So this might be a good time to mention that I headcanon everyone everywhere as autistic. Everyone is autistic. Cody is autistic. Okay actually though, I headcanon that Cody has a great deal of anxiety. He handles it well, and he has a support system, but given his entire life, and the fact that he’s a Marshal Commander, and further more the headcanon we collectively have that Obi-Wan insists on promoting Cody to get out of paperwork because Cody deserves it, he’s probably anxious. And man, same.

Unpopular opinion: Do I have one? Tbh I don’t know how to determine whether an opinion about a character is unpopular. How do we define unpopular? Do we mean just like, not commonly known or shared? Because if so, I once again raise for your consideration: everyone is autistic, therefore Cody is autistic.

A wish: For Disney to retcon Order 66. Barring that, for the Bad Batch show to give him a happy ending involving the removal of his chip and the opportunity to live happily ever after with Obi-Wan on Tatooine. (Is the Bad Batch show going to be live-action like Kenobi? Because PLEASE give me Temuera Morrison playing Cody in both.)

An oh-gosh-please-don’t-ever-happen: Don’t laugh. Order 66. Listen I KNOW it’s canon but that doesn’t mean I have to like it!

5 words to best describe them: Salty. Snarky. Protective. Competent. Thoughtful.

My nickname for them: honestly, just Codes or Kote. Not much to get out of Cody, really.

Obi-Wan:

Why I like them: HE’S PRETTY. And sassy. There’s a pattern here.

Why I don’t: I don’t think there’s ever a time in canon that he acknowledges all the issues with the clones’ existence. He does in fanon, which I can appreciate, but canonically he’s like, “ah yes, we bought 3.2 million humans. We’ll just stick them in this war I guess.” Also frankly he’s a bit oblivious, bordering on daft, especially considering he’s the Negotiator, I mean he KEPT HIS LAST NAME when he went into hiding. I still love him though.

Favorite scene: That deleted “good girl, Boga” scene, which just hits different when you’ve read Master & Apprentice and know how much he loves varactyls. I don’t care that it’s deleted. It’s my favorite. (Plus you’ll probably like this better than my favorite episode, which is the Kadavo episode.)

Favorite film: Attack of the Clones. Listen listen listen, he has a lot of good moments in TCW, but hands down it’s AOTC.

Favorite line: Eheheheheheh. Eheheheheheheh. Eheheheheheheheheheheheheheheh. “Hello there!”

Favorite outfit: Was gonna make a comment about Jedi robes but then I remembered his stolen Mandalorian armor in The Lawless and *swoons* that’s one pretty outfit.

OTP: ... also Codywan. Again, ideally in an AU with less of a power imbalance, I mean it doesn’t matter how much he promotes Cody, canonically he’s still a Jedi and Cody is still a slave and I just don’t love that but I live for Codywan. Domestic Codywan? *chef’s kiss*

BroTP: probably Obi-Wan and Anakin. Maybe Obi and Padmé? Idk I have Thoughts about Anakin, he’s a problem child, but not much can top the agony in “You were my brother, Anakin! I loved you!” (I like whump, okay?) Also just. Can you imagine the Negotiator just being buds with Senator Amidala? Helping each other with domestic disputes and speeches? Working on a Clone Rights Bill? Yeah. Can it be a broT3? What if we just don’t have Anakin and Padmé dating? It’s such an unhealthy relationship. That’s it, broT3 is Anakin, Padmé, and Obi-Wan.

Headcanon: ACE!OBI ACE!OBI ACE!OBI!!!!!! Also,,, autistic!Obi. I know I know, but actually genuinely @fromryloth-tocorellia has some pretty good autistic!Obi-Wan stuff, including Obi-Wan being semi-verbal, low-verbal, and non-verbal. Autistic characters is a hill I will die on, and Obi-Wan is a character I happen to enjoy projecting on (oops). Plus, if I headcanon Cody and Obi-Wan as autistic, then the entire Ibonek family is autistic, and I love that.

Unpopular opinion: The only reason Obi-Wan “left Anakin to die” was because there was nothing he could safely do to help. When I was taking first aid classes, one of the first things they told us was that, unless there is no danger to yourself, you do not help. You wait for actual first responders to show up. If Obi-Wan had tried to help Anakin, either Anakin would have killed him or Obi-Wan would also have been severely burned. And if he had stayed, he may have been caught by Palpatine. Is it sad that he left? Absolutely. Heartbreaking. I don’t think it was a GOOD decision. But he didn’t just leave him to die; there was no other safe option. There were no good decisions here. I have a lot of thoughts about this, I have half-written essays on Discord about it, feel free to ask further questions.

A wish: For Qui-Gon’s dying words to be retconned. I know I wrote that post about how his dying words were full of trust in Obi-Wan and I stand by that, but that doesn’t mean Obi-Wan realized that, or that they were a good choice.

An oh-gosh-please-don’t-ever-happen: For the Kenobi show to be sad. It’s not allowed. Obi-Wan can have one fight, and that’s it, he is happy as a clam on Tatooine because he DESERVES GOODNESS DAMNIT.

5 words to best describe them: Kind. Soft. Warm. Compassionate. Daft.

My nickname for them: Obi

Pova:

What I like about them: They’re my OC and I can do whatever I want with them!

What I don’t: They’re my OC and I’m in charge of them.

(Okay actually though:)

What I like about them: Nonverbal. Pink. Perpetually grumpy.

What I don’t: perpetually grumpy. Seriously how did that happen? Why did I do that? Why is the only time they AREN’T grumpy around Rex or when shopping with Obi-Wan?

Favorite scene: The adoption scene in “Observations on the Nature of Cody Ibonek”.

Favorite work: Probably “Observations”. It’s the first one that’s entirely from Pova’s point of view.

Favorite line: “He was making fun of my stimming. I was already having a bad day. I punched him. It’s whatever.” POVA NO. (Pova yes.)

Favorite outfit: Uh. Haven’t given it much thought yet? Haven’t done many character designs, although fromryloth-tocorellia did one for me and it’s my icon at @ver-writes-things if you want to check that out? Also my Halloween costume is gonna be a super basic cosplay of them and I’ll probably post that.

OTP: None. First of all, the oldest I’ve written them so far is 14. Second, I don’t have any other characters their age yet. Maybe the six kids from the Gathering episode survived? But even then I probably wouldn’t ship it. And I mean, not every character needs a romantic ship.

BroTP: Either Pova and Rex or Pova and Luke. Rex is like big brother/cool uncle, and Luke is like little brother. As of right now, though, definitely Rex, as I haven’t written much of anything with Luke.

Headcanon: I don’t have any because all my headcanons about this character are CANON! Man I love having OCs.

Unpopular opinion: to quote Paige Layle on TikTok: “Stop using the term low functioning autistics when you really mean that they’re just nonverbal. And nonverbal autistics still have a lot to say, they just have a hard time talking.” Basically, I’m certain that as this AU gains traction, Pova’s gonna start getting flak from readers for being nonverbal. It hasn’t happened yet, and maybe I’m just being pessimistic, but just in case someone needs the reminder: No. Stop now. Pova’s autistic. And nonverbal. And not a savant (man I fucking hate that trope). But they are a capable Jedi and, with Cody and Obi, developed a very functional sign language comprised of Jedi hand signals, trade sign language (like from episode 5 of the Mandalorian, that the Tuskens use?), and ARC signals. There will be NO functioning labels on this AU, and Pova has and will continue to have PLENTY to say. If you have a problem you know where the door is.

A wish: For everyone to love my kiddo as much as I do!

An oh-gosh-please-don’t-ever-happen: Listen Pova is gonna have a good and happy life. There is trauma and there is bullying and there is heartache but they are going to live a good life with two AMAZING dads. So there is no “don’t ever happen” because it won’t.

5 words to best describe them: Sneaky. Quiet. Excitable. Compassionate. Snarky.

My nickname for them: Kiddo or my kiddo.

#star wars #the clone wars #obi-wan kenobi #commander cody #OC Pova #Pova Ibonek

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seriouslyhooked · 4 years ago

Text

Feels Like This (Part 4)

Emma Swan is a once lost girl who is now making good. She has made a way in the world for her and her young son, Henry, and after years of hard work, Emma is in her last stretch of schooling for the career she’s always wanted. Unexpectedly, she finds herself in a tiny nation no one’s ever heard of for her last year of study. She knows nothing about the place except that it’s beautiful, has a world-renowned child life program, and is filled with possibility. Meanwhile, Prince Killian is hardly happy with the title he received at birth. As the second in line for the crown, Killian has long tried shaking his royal duties. He built a career in the royal navy, and has stayed out of the limelight, but his ship has been called to port indefinitely at the request of his brother, the King. Fate (in her many forms) brings Emma and Killian together and the resulting fic is a cute, fluffy, trope filled romp featuring heart felt moments, a healthy dose of insta-love and an assured happily ever after. Story rated M and will have 12 parts. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3. Available on FF Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hey everyone! So we are back now with another chapter of ‘Feels Like This,’ and you know I couldn’t resist a chance to show the first meeting from Killian’s POV too. This story is just a cute fluffy little exercise for my muse, and I wanted to let that continue in this chapter as well. There are some mentions of Killian’s past and some hints at the ghosts he carries, but by the end we’ll all be firmly in fluff-mode. Hoping you guys will enjoy this cuteness as a break from the stress in the world right now, and can’t wait to see what you all think!

“Alpha command, do you read us?!” Graham yelled into the sat-phone, but the only reply was the suffocating sound of subtle static. “This is team five, reporting. We need immediate backup. Again, immediate back up. Alpha?...Alpha?” Graham grimaced and looked close to chucking the offending device in his hand across the desert sand. “Comms are down, Cap, and they’ve got us nearly surrounded.”

“How many?”

“Twenty at least, probably more like thirty or forty,” Tink said from her perch as lookout. “Well-armed and trigger happy.”

“It’s an ambush in slow motion.”

“Fucking airborne!” Will yelled, his eyes widening from the adrenaline even as his voice grew high pitched from rage. “They were supposed to be here by now. What’s the bloody hold up?!”

“Doesn’t matter,” Robin countered, reloading his gun and grabbing his pack, readying for either fight or flight. The former would mean certain death, and the latter was by no means a guarantee they’d make it out of here. “We can’t hold this position surrounded. We’ve got to get out. We can take some down as we do, but there’s no way we survive an all-out fight.”

“What do we do, Cap?”

The sound of an explosion to their right rocked the dilapidated building they were using for cover, and his heart rate finally kicked into high gear. They had to get out of here, his instincts insisted, mission be damned. They’d find another way to get what they needed. Right now he had to see his crew saved from total annihilation. He moved to give the order when another explosion went off closer, blowing out the far wall. Fuck, they needed to move, Now! –

Killian’s eyes sprung open, and his body flinched, springing into action on instinct alone. His chest heaved with quick, uneven breaths as if he’d just been running for his life. It took a few moments to realize where he was and to see that the memories from before were no longer his reality. He was not in the dessert on assignment, he was back at home in a bed that was too soft and spacious and pristine to ever feel natural. From the looks of things, it was still dark out, and a glance at his bedside clock confirmed that the sun wouldn’t be up for at least another hour. He’d managed to grab 4 hours of sleep, troubled as they might have been, and though the lingering fear still clung to him, that bit of rest was progress. He cautiously moved up from bed and stretched his limbs out, loosening his taut muscles that were stressed throughout his sleep, and schooling his mind to calm his body’s turmoil, dispelling the adrenaline to the best of his ability.

To a civilian it would seem an impossibly small clump of hours to function, but Killian had grown used to inconsistent sleep, and his body and mind were hesitant to rest for any longer than his deployment norm. He had the usual problems of a soldier returning home right now. The bed was too soft, the room was too cool, and the space was too quiet to fall asleep easily. Then when he finally gave into slumber, he’d rest and relax only to jump up, forgetting he wasn’t on a detail somewhere chaotic. If he slept too long he also tended to fall back into dreaming, and though he’d been spared the full extent of that particular memory from his last deployment, it was only a matter of time before the ghosts of that day came back to haunt his dreams.

No use fighting it off. I’ve seen what I’ve seen, and I survived. Just keep moving. One step at a time.

Those words had become an anchor to him throughout the course of his service, and they helped take some of the edge off, though his body still held the familiar ache of unresolved stress. There was little he could do with that, but in the meantime, Killian chose to see the solemn quiet of this time of morning as a gift. He was up before the staff came in, meaning no attendants were on hand to see to him, and no one was poised to offer him coffee and breakfast. This gave him the chance to dress quickly, sneak out of his quarters, and head out the back way.

He hit the garden path just as the world began to brighten. The sun was still hidden, but that pre-dawn rosiness hung over the world. Automatically he moved past the landscaped path, forsaking the hedgerow which would soon hold one of the nation’s most magnificent living floral arrangements. His mother was exceedingly proud of those gardens, and she deserved to be. They might be maintained by a large landscaping work force, but she was out here every day, not just giving direction, but also helping tend the flowers that were her favorite. No matter how busy her schedule, his mother found at least an hour each day to be out here and do work, and that love and dedication had blossomed over the last thirty years most beautifully.

This morning, however, he was too restless for the garden. He needed some exertion, a reminder of who he was not as a prince but as a man. He set out for the steepest hike in the royal grounds, a trail he’d come to know from the time he was a boy. Some days he ran this path, but not this morning. No, today was about measured steps and observation. He wanted to experience the nature around him, and to blend in with the peace that existed here. The rigor of the climb and the steepness of these hills granted his body some much needed occupation. He’d been working out in the palace as best he could, wanting to stay in shape despite his early retirement, but that was never natural. Outdoor pursuits suited him much better, and when he finally reached the top of the rocky overlook at the far side of his family’s prime estate, his reward was far greater than any lifted weights or treadmill-based run. Up here, past the canopy of trees, he could see for miles. A blend of undeveloped hills and groves that led down to the coast, and all of it green and bold and brilliant. The land below was royally endowed, open to the public, but not until after the sun had risen. For now, there was no one out here. Just him, the earth, and the sea.

Alone with his thoughts as the sun appeared at the horizon, Killian’s mind wandered musing over the state of his world and where he must start going next. He was back here for good, and it was time to accept that, and he found that he could much easier than he once expected. Part of that was thanks to the help of his family in finding him a worthy use for his time, but there was more to it than that. He’d felt aimless for the past few years, despite the rigor and routine of his time in the navy. Something was missing for him, something more than honor and duty. Out here in the morning light he admitted that it wasn’t something but someone that he craved. He was ready for a partner, a woman who would see him as the man he was, not the man he seemed to be. He wanted connection, understanding, but mostly he wanted love. So far in his life a true love had eluded him. He’d had only fleeting tastes and failed potential. No lass ever stood out from the fray, and certainly none of them could see beyond his title. There was always that question of what a woman really wanted, and Killian hated that, and resented it more than he could say.

Despite being a rational, logical man, he must admit he liked the dream of what love could be. The greatest tales of romance spoke to passion and to lust, to desire so great it morphed into this unspeakable creation. Life was not worth living without love. Love was paint on the canvass, and magic in the wind. It had all this promise and was built up so high. Killian didn’t know if love like that could ever be true. It certainly hadn’t been for his parents. His grandparents, meanwhile had been deeply in love, but they’d both come from noble lineages. The expectation of their station was always with them, and their marriage was arranged and sorted out long before they could have any say in it. They were lucky to have a true respect and adoration for each other, and his grandfather had told Killian many times of how he took one look at Princess Eleanor of Gendora and fell head over heels in love, but even that felt too inorganic. What Killian craved was something authentic and defiant. It should transcend who he was and where he came from. It should make him feel, as nothing else ever had before, but he had to wonder if such a love would ever come. Perhaps he was not meant for such good fortune. Perhaps, it was just not meant to be. But he hated to accept that, not when he’d always wished for a love that strong, and for a family of his own to care for.

That sad thought troubled him as he watched the sun rise over the world, and as he finally made his descent from the hillside and headed back to the castle more than an hour later. By that time the grounds were alive with the abundance of staff who tended to the estate and to his family. No one gave his early journey any undue attention, and breakfast was the same as usual. The only difference was in his mother and grandmother, who were excessively eager to hear his plan for the foundation today. Killian had some things to settle with his superiors in the navy first, like submitting his final retirement papers, but that would be done by midday. The director at the children’s institute had told him yesterday that a good time to come would be the afternoon, and he’d been informed that the older children would be out today, meaning Killian would only see about half of their home’s occupants. He was intrigued at what this would be like. On the one hand this was important work, but would he truly be well suited to it? Only time would tell if the children would trust him, and he wasn’t interested in forcing anything. He was hopeful but realistic, but his mother and grandmother had different views.

“Oh my dear, you’re over thinking it. The children are going to love you, that is a certainty,” his grandmother said, waving her teacup with a mix of agitation and well-bred refinement that was quintessentially royal. “Just be sure to stay open to everything and everyone. That’s critical.”

“Um, right. Thanks for the advice Gran,” he said, not really understanding her emphasis on being open.

“You never know, you could really find your future there,” his mother added, her eyes filled with something he couldn’t quite pinpoint, but his mother and grandmother were spared further questions from him when his mother’s assistant called their attention to an impending public appearance. Quickly they left the room, but Killian couldn’t shake the sense that somehow the two most important women in his life were in cahoots.

“Any idea what that was about?” Killian asked his brother, and Liam looked up from the files in front of him. It was work he’d brought to the table and been pouring over all meal long, but just as expected, Liam knew exactly what Killian was talking about despite his multi-tasking.

“No, and that’s never a good thing.”

“They’re plotting something,” Killian added, wracking his brain for what it could be.

“They usually are. I’ll have Jefferson look into it.”

Killian appreciated the solidarity he had with his brother in this area, and they shared a bit more small talk before they both needed to be on their way. Liam had a country to run and Killian had the daunting task of fully removing himself from the royal navy. He had to go to base to see it done, but was offered the utmost amount of privacy. His higher ups thanked him genuinely for his service, not because he was the prince, but because he had earned it and they were sorry to see him go. Then the dreaded moment came when he had to sign and submit his resignation. He expected a sense of loss when he did this, but as he scrawled out his name in full and handed the sheaf of paper to the Admiral at the desk, he felt a strange sense of relief. A chapter of his life was now over, but in its closing another door would open. Maybe that door would bring him the fulfilment he was looking for. Maybe he’d find the love he really wanted. Maybe happiness would finally make its way into his heart.

“Excuse my impertinence, sir. But are you feeling all right?” one of the royal guards stationed to his detail asked as Killian returned to the SUV that brought him here. Killian knew the man had himself served in the navy before he ascended to this job. They had the shared understanding of what walking away from this active duty meant.

“Surprisingly so, Gus. Thank you.”

“Of course, sir. So, to the institute then?” Killian agreed and they headed out directly. The journey was not a long one, but the shift in land and scene and scape felt prudent. Killian was going from one world to another right now, despite their being less than an hour away from each other, and by the time they got there he was in a new headspace, ready for a fresh and interesting challenge to throw himself into.

Driving up past the gates of the Institute, Killian’s first impression was he was glad that the place appeared to be in good shape. He would expect nothing less from his family’s foundation, but when one said orphans and children in need, it usually sparked images of Dickensian squalor. While none of these children were in the best situation (for a loving family placement must always be superior), he could tell just from the outside façade that this place was a safe haven. There were outdoor toys and sporting equipment, areas for the children to play, and lovingly etched chalk designs all along the pavement and back walls. He smiled at the range of the work, from the scribbling of little ones to the more sophisticated imaginings of what must be the older teens. Seeing this all put him at ease, and as he stepped into the front hall, coming face to face with an older man and woman ready to greet him, he hoped to carry that good feeling with him.

“You must be Marco,” Killian said as he approached the man he assumed was the director. “My grandmother has great things to say about your work here.”

“I appreciate that. And might I say, we’re thrilled to have you here, Sir.”

“Killian, please,” he corrected as he offered his hand in a friendly greeting.

“Killian. Right, sorry,” Marco said with a somewhat bashful smile, extending his own hand to shake. “That may take some getting used to.”

“Not a problem. We have time.”

Killian looked then to the woman beside Marco, an older woman with silver hair and a stately presence. She was put together but also looked maternal, and in many ways she reminded him of his grandmother in her younger years. She had that same aura of kindness and good sense that children liked to flock to. She introduced herself as Marie, but her voice warbled with continued uncertainty. Like Marco, Killian could see how flustered she was in the face of meeting a royal, and his heart sank, but then he watched as both of them grew more composed and their energies settled into the seriousness of their work. They explained quickly about the children and how they were all gathered now in their post lunch activities. Killian didn’t know what the plan was, would he meet them one on one? Perhaps be assigned to one area? But then they walked in and every eye in the place turned his way.

In the sea of faces, which were all looking his way, only the adults seemed to realize who he was, and they schooled their features quickly, cognoscente of the children all around them and probably having been told about his wish to be more normal in this setting. The kids, for their part, just looked curious and Killian let out a sigh of relief. Still he felt a sudden sense of dread. Would he measure up to what they needed? Would they ever trust him? Could this really work? Could he really blend in? He felt a wave of something cynical and pessimistic wash over him, but then his eyes caught on a beauty so striking he nearly lost his footing. If not for all his years of expert training in self-composure, he’d have made a real ass of himself, but as it was, he felt stunned and mystified at the image there before him.

The woman who enchanted him at first glance was blonde and beautiful, with thick golden hair and soft, timeless features. She was delicate but capable, and he knew just from a glance that she would be a force of nature. The bow shape of her lips coupled beautifully with the symmetry of her features and the sun kissed tone of her skin. She was dressed casually, no doubt for the benefit of her work here, but he’d never seen jeans and a t-shirt look so good. His mind faltered in this moment, strung out on so many primal thoughts and desires, drowned out by only one instinct – he had to know her, get close to her, and see if she could possibly be real.

To this point the woman had still been sitting, while the rest of the room had all stood at his arrival. Killian noticed the little girl who was holding onto her, and from here he could sense the young girl’s worry. He couldn’t hear the mysterious woman’s words, but she said something that appeased the little one. The child nodded before they stood up, and for a fleeting moment Killian felt pride. This woman was no doubt adept at this, making this little girl feel safe and protected, but the thought flew from his mind as the golden-haired siren finally looked up and their gazes clashed.

Bloody hell, she’s gorgeous. The cursed words luckily never passed his lips, but he could think of nothing except how entrancing this woman was. Her eyes were so green, and even from across the room he could see the shade was strikingly similar to the natural landscape he’d escaped to this morning. He thought of summer grasses and the lushness of life, and when brought together with the rest of her, Killian couldn’t imagine a more perfect creature. She was undeniable, and he was absolutely thrilled that at long last he’d found her.

Found her? You don’t even know her, his mind said but Killian ignored it. Perhaps that was sensible, but what use was there for sense in a moment like this? He felt the pierce of what must have been an arrow in his chest, and in that fateful moment he felt assured that this was the woman for him, and that he would do whatever he could to be the man she wanted too. He’d have kept staring at her forever if he could, but luckily Marco spoke up, introducing him to the children and the volunteers here.

“Everyone, this is our newest friend here at the institute, Killian.” Killian smiled at the use of his first name, and he let go an unsteady breath, reminding himself to breathe as he tore his gaze from the woman across the room and looked to all the kids.

“You’re big,” one boy called out, and Killian couldn’t help but laugh. He knew he was rather large compared to the average man. Special forces required him to stay in top shape, but then again every full grown man must seem big to a boy so young.

“You should see my brother,” Killian joked, for Liam had a good three inches on him in the height department.

“Is he coming too?” Marie asked, a fresh panic waving over her and Killian went to quickly ease her mind.

“No, ma’am.” The woman let out a sigh of relief but the children were hardly done with their questions.

“Why do you stand so straight?” another boy asked and Killian explained.

“I was in the royal navy.” The kids were instantly intrigued, and murmurs and exclamations abounded through the room. In the sea of questions though, one tiny voice stuck out most.

“Are you a good person?”

The question came from the little girl beside his mystery woman, and despite her initial fear, Killian noticed how bravely this child held her head up and looked him in the eyes. She must have no idea the weight of such a question, but in her mind it was a simply query: Was he good or was he bad? He moved closer to her, ever conscious of the beautiful woman beside her and then bent down to get to her level.

“What’s your name, little one?”

“Cecelia,” she said, her voice only betraying the slightest shakiness.

“Cecelia. That’s a beautiful name,” he said honestly and Cecelia swayed side to side a bit with the compliment. He didn’t know if that was a good sign, but he took it as one since she didn’t flinch from him or step away. “Now as for your question, I certainly try to be good.”

“But you’re a stranger,” the little girl said, looking at him with an expression that spoke volumes. Strangers were clearly a bad thing in this girl’s experience, and his heart felt for her. What must it be like to be so young and have so little trust? But then again he understood on some level – in his life there had never been much trust beyond his family, even when he was very young.

“For now I am. But not forever, I hope.”

“My Emma was a stranger too,” Cecelia said, tugging a bit at the hand of the woman beside her and Killian’s mind mulled over the beautiful name. Emma. It suited her. “She’s a good person. Are you like my, Emma?”

Now Killian rose to full height and he addressed Emma as much as he did Cecelia. “I do like her.” Oh fuck! He hadn’t meant to say that. Shit! “I mean I hope I’m like her, lass. But only time will tell.”

“Miss Emma, does time talk?” Cecelia asked, totally serious, and Killian watched as the intriguing Emma bit her lip to keep from laughing as her eyes caught Killian’s again.

“No, honey. It’s an expression. It means that with a little bit of time you will know if he’s a good person. You just have to be patient.”

Hearing her speak for the first time only completed the spell, and Killian felt a rush of too many things. It was impossible to comprehend what led the way: awe, hope, interest. It all wrapped up so closely together, coalescing in this remarkable woman. The way she was with this little girl spoke volumes to her goodness, but despite his fumbled attempts to impress her, he could also see the tell-tale signs of interest. When she looked at him her cheeks tinted slightly pink, her eyes dilated, and her gaze wandered again, looking beyond his face and back down his person. It took everything in him not to flex. He felt damn good at her appreciating appraisal, and when she looked back up and her blush deepened, he was close to beating his chest. Again, he was saved from an announcement from Marco calling everyone’s attention and asking how they should best welcome Killian to the institute. The kids’ enthusiasm was infectious, and Killian was eager to do anything and everything they offered, but before taking his leave he made sure to offer some parting words to Emma, knowing they would hardly be the last that they shared.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Emma.”

A pleasure was underselling the impact of their meeting, but it was best not to come on too strong. Instead he turned back to join Marco and the kids, spending the next few hours learning the ins and outs of this place and meeting each child who was here in a flurry of excitement and random facts about their favorite toys or secret hide outs. The estate that housed the institute was large enough to give the kids good space indoors and outdoors, and there were a number of things he realized he could genuinely help with. They had a few building projects that needed set up and extra hands, and it seemed they could use some added help with the activities for older boys. None of them were here today, having all gone on some day trip to the coast, but Marco was convinced that Killian’s presence could be beneficial to them all. To Killian it felt like being shoved in the deep end and being forced to swim, but he always preferred that method in his life, and he found that in just one afternoon there was already a sense of rightness being here.

That sense of right was especially palpable any time Emma Swan crossed his path, which happened over and over again. Her roll here seemed to be general in nature, and she helped out with many different activities and support elements no matter what they were. She appeared totally at ease at every turn, and Killian watched her closely, noticing how dedicated she was to this. She was sharp as could be, with instincts that served her well, but she also was quick to ask questions and clearly wanted to learn. Some might have considered her capability intimidating, especially when he had no real experience to draw from, but he didn’t see it that way. Instead, Killian found her passion invigorating, and felt his own pleasure at being here heightened as she showed him how to fit in and gain some traction with these kids.

“You have a real way with children, love,” he said at one point, when a group of the little ones were hard at work on a new arts and craft project involving paint and beans and tin cartons. Emma’s eyes scanned over the room, taking stock of each child in attendance before she looked back to him and her cheeks flushed again.

“Thank you,” she said, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I haven’t been here very long, so we’re still getting to know each other, but I came here to help, and I hope that’s what I’m doing.”

“You’re new to Montenarro then?” Killian asked, watching as Emma helped one of the young boys with the glue he was using, never complaining about the mess he made, just trying to guide him to the purpose of the project.

“Brand new. Like less than three weeks new,” she affirmed before smiling at her little charge and giving the boy all her attention. “That’s brilliant, William.”

“Thanks, Emma!” The boy beamed, adding more to his can that to Killian looked like a lovable, but unknowable mess of dried legumes.

“And what exactly brought you here?” Killian asked, already so damn grateful for whatever the hell it was.

“The center’s fellowship. They offer it every year and people from around the world apply. I was chosen this year,” she said, appearing thoughtful before genuinely smiling. “Sorry, it’s still weird to say that out loud. I never thought that this would happen.”

“You didn’t consider the possibility when you submitted yourself for consideration?”

“I didn’t actually apply. One of my professors nominated me. Then they pulled a bunch of strings to get Henry and I settled.”

“Henry?” he asked, doing the best to shield his expression. Still the mention of another man was like a swift kick to his gut. He looked down to her hands again and saw no ring, but perhaps that didn’t mean anything. He felt sick to his stomach that she might have another man in her life already.

“My son,” she said, looking at him curiously and she was surprised at him. Too late he realized he was grinning like a mad man. “Why do you look so relieved? Most men hear a woman is a single Mom and run for the hills.”

“So you are single?”

“Yes,” she said immediately and then “Wait you thought… That’s why you got that weird look just now. Not because you thought I had a kid.”

“No, love. I think it’s brilliant that you have a son. If he’s anything like his mother, he must truly be something.”

“Thank you,” Emma said, so much quieter than before, and before he could say anything else, the bell sounded for the kids, signaling this craft session was over and that dinner would start in fifteen minutes. “I need to collect all the projects. Would you mind watching the hand washing station? Be warned it can get a bit dicey.”

“Not a problem, Swan,” he said, and he saw the way her eyes widened at the use of her last name. She like it, perhaps more than she wished to let on, and he made mental note of that as he attempted to lead the kids to cleanliness. Emma was right about this job though, it had a definite splash hazard and involved fielding a never-ending litany of questions.

“What was the best part of being in the navy?” one boy asked.

“The men and women I served with. They’re my family now,” Killian said, sparking a longing look among more than a few of the children. “But also the travel. You can see the whole wide world on a ship, and the ocean is never a dull place to be.”

“Do you miss it?” another boy asked and Killian considered.

“I do and I don’t. It’s hard to explain.” The boy nodded like he totally understood, though there was no way he’d shared a similar experience.

“Were there pirates?” one girl asked and Killian considered his answer.

“Some men play at being pirates, but they’re not nearly as intriguing as pirates of old.”

“But pirates are villains,” another girl said.

“What’s a bill-an?” little Cecelia asked, mispronouncing the word, which she had never heard before. Killian helped her up to the sink on the little step stool and got the soap out for her to wash her hands. She was small, but so certain in her actions, it once again made him wonder at her bravery even as a little girl in a less than lovely situation.

“A villain is a bad guy,” the other girl replied and Cecelia looked stricken.

“I don’t like bad guys.”

“I know, little love, but not all pirates are villains. Some used to have honor. They were good men, they just… lived a little differently than the rest of us.”

“You sound awfully knowledgeable about pirates,” Emma said from the front of the room and he shrugged.

“Family legend claims that my great, great, great grandfather was a pirate.” The kids all grew wide eyed, but Killian focused on Cecelia. “But there’s nothing to worry about. There’s no pirate the world over who would ever dare to mess with the likes of you all.”

“We’d make them walk the plank!” one boy yelled, covering his eyes like he had a patch and waving a nearby paper towel roll like a sword.

“Argh!” A few other kids joined in on the action, but Cecelia held back.

“I bet you’d make a great pirate, lass.”

“Really?” She asked, looking around at the others. “But how does I be one?”

Taking a last look at Emma, and knowing he was about to venture into something embarrassing, he did his best to emulate a pirate. The words and the actions were exaggerated and over the top, but he was rewarded with lots of laughter from the little ones and a full smile from Cecelia. At one point they were all playing together and Cecelia came up and poked him at the side and tried her best at a pirate greeting.

“Hi hi, matey!”

Killian and Emma laughed at that and Killian patted her gently on the shoulder. “Just as I thought. You’re a natural.”

At that moment another woman he’d met this afternoon, a counselor named Elsa, appeared at the door. She could have been aghast at the display in front of them all, with the water on the floor and the kids acting like swashbuckling sea dogs, but instead she just laughed. “Oh my goodness. I came looking for my friends and I found all these pirates instead. But how will my friends have dinner if I can’t find them?”

“It’s us, Miss Elsa,” Cecelia said happily. “We is just pretending.”

“Oh thank goodness. Well let’s get a move on. Cook made us a wonderful supper. Wouldn’t want to miss it.”

The kids all hurried out, but not before they said goodbye to Emma and Killian. It was a rush watching them all go, and he felt a lightness in his heart that hadn’t been there for ages. But the moment he realized he was alone with Emma he grew even more excited. Finally they had some privacy, and Killian had no intention of squandering it.

“Has anyone ever told you that you cause quite a stir?” Emma asked. “The whole place has been buzzing about you all day.”

Instinctively he assumed she must be alluding to his being a prince, and his heart sank. In all this time he’d felt so normal, but there was reality come to call again. “The excitement surrounding my arrival is highly overblown. I assure you I’m not quite so remarkable.”

“Well the kids certainly think so. Who knew being a Captain in the navy was so impressive? And were you serious about the pirate granddad, or was that just for effect?”

Killian listened to the light laughter that slipped past her lips and he marveled at the sound and at this new realization. It dawned on him that she actually didn’t realize who he was. She must not, right? If she was assuming their excitement came from his military career and his family’s strange potential origins, she might not realize he was a prince. It made sense in a way. She hadn’t been in Montennaro very long, and she’d never had any kind of awkwardness in addressing him today, but he assumed the whole staff would have been told the truth. At the same moment he was trying to figure things out in his mind, Emma reflected on what she’d said a second before. She suddenly appeared stricken and began back peddling.

“Not that you’re unimpressive. I mean it is amazing what you did, you know, serving your country and whatever. You’ve probably seen and done so much, and I didn’t mean to make light of that. I just meant -,”

Hating to see her worry about what was a truly benign comment, Killian reached out to take Emma’s hand. The feel of her hand in his immediately prompted a response and the electricity between them was unparalleled. He’d never experienced a spark like that before, certainly not from a simple touch, and he could read in Emma’s eyes that she felt the same way. When he spoke his voice was quiet and gruff, filled with the emotion of this intimate moment.

“There’s no need to explain, love. And as for being impressive, there’s more than enough of that to go around.” His thumb ran over her smooth skin and he reveled in the small gasp she let out, probably without realizing it. It set him aflame to know she too was affected, and as he met her gaze again, he swore he saw his future written in their dreamy jade-colored depths. “You’re really something, love.”

“So are you,” she whispered, moving a fraction of an inch closer to him as she said it. He was so damn tempted to capitalize on that, and to seize this moment for all its glory and promise. He longed to kiss her, to taste her, to feel her in his arms where his heart felt she belonged. It was madness and bliss, but before he could do anything her phone began to chime, a recognizable alert that must be an alarm.

“Shoot, that’s my alarm for Henry. I have to pick him up from camp. I can’t be late.”

Despite his disappointment, Killian knew that for Emma her son should and would always be the priority. He respected and admired that, and he gave her hand a gentle squeeze before letting go.

“May I walk you out, Swan?”

“I -,” she sounded like she was going to protest, but then he watched her change her decision in her own mind to one that he vastly preferred. “I’d like that, actually.”

Though they didn’t move hand in hand, they kept a close distance to each other, and Killian felt a rush at still being with her but dread that they both had to go and take leave of one another. He knew she was working tomorrow, and he was dead set on being here all the hours that he could when she was around, but it was hard to picture leaving her. In just a few hours she’d come to mean something to him, and the thought of saying goodbye didn’t sit well in his chest.

“So what’s with the bodyguards?” Emma asked, pulling him from his internal reverie as she motioned outside to Gus. The others had left during the day, the caravan of cars he arrived in now only have one car physically on the premises, but he’d forgotten about all of them entirely. Killian tried his best not to react, and keep his face controlled. He had no wish to lie to her, but call him crazy, he enjoyed just feeling like an ordinary man for once in his life.

“His presence brings my family peace of mind.”

“Sounds a little extreme,” Emma said but she considered. “There’s nothing to worry about, right? For the kids I mean.”

Despite her caveat of it being for the kids, Killian felt she was a bit worried for him too. At least he hoped that was the case. If it was, maybe it meant she felt as much for him as he already did for her. “No, nothing. It’s just a precaution, and after all my years away from home, I’d like to give them whatever reassurance I can that I’m well and good.”

“That makes sense actually,” Emma admitted, thinking on it. “Before I had Henry I would have thought that was crazy, but now. Well, love can make you do crazy things.”

“It can indeed, Swan,” Killian said regretful that they’d already made it to the front gate and that this would have to be farewell, at least for now. “So, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll be here,” Emma agreed, looking back at the building with a look of contentment before gazing back at him once more. “See you later, Killian.”

With that, Killian watched as Emma walked away, heading towards her son and their life here somewhere in the walls of the city. He did catch the moment where she looked back at him though, and it filled him with hope as nothing else ever had. It was only a second, and before long she’d slipped out of sight, but she never really left him. For the rest of the evening Emma was with him, in spirit if not for real, and Killian knew in his heart that meeting Emma had changed him, and that someday, somehow, he’d find a way to be with her, no matter what it took.

Post-Note: So… what did you guys think? I hope that you all enjoyed getting to see Killian’s POV on the first meeting. I know that I personally loved the fluff of this chapter, and I worked hard to make it authentic to the story and to CS as a whole. As with most of my stories, this is an insta-love, fluff-for-days kind of vibe, but there is a bit of intrigue. Like when will Emma learn Killian’s a prince? And will they be able to get together when that truth is revealed? It’s me writing it, so you guys can probably guess how things might turn out, but I can’t wait to share how this story will go and to keep writing this fic that’s been in my head and my heart for some time. As always I thank all of you so much for your support and kind words. They mean the world to me and I cherish every comment and message and review. So thank you, thank you, my friends! Now please, stay safe, be well, and have a great rest of your day!

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ofgoldenangel · 4 years ago

Text

Rocking Around the Christmas Tree

SUMMARY: Gabriel Meets Wally West at the Christmas Tree lighting and they spend a wonderful time together. With Snowball fights and Hot chocolate TRIGGERS: None WRITTEN WITH: @fasterthanl1ght

Gabriel: loved all these lights and happy kids faces he passed while walking through Rockefeller It was amazing to see how the humans celebrating the holiday season. He found a nice spot in front of the tree on a park bench smiling softly hearing the sounds of happy kids and movement of people. He felt eyes on him as he gave them a soft smile "Hello, Enjoying the Holiday fun?"

Wally: Wally was having a blast. Christmas in Rockefeller. It didn't get much more iconic than that. He passed by a family making a snowman, some kids having a snowball fight, a couple taking a romantic walk. As he approached a park bench he got a look at the guy sitting on it and was slightly floored. Damn. He'd met some good looking folks in his time, like the Titans or the Justice League, but this guy was like on another level. It took him a second to realize he was staring and he turned away a bit just to avoid making it super obvious. "Hm me? Yeah man I love this time of year. It's my favorite!" Wow did he always sound like such a nerd? He coughed a bit feeling the need to clear his throat suddenly before turning the question on the other man. "What about you? Are you stoked for Christmas? Or you know, whatever you celebrate?"

Gabriel: Gabe chuckled softly feeling eyes on him as he sat near the hub of all the activity, he'd briefly saw Sam and Charlie dancing feeling extreme happiness to see them enjoying themselves when he turned his attention to the boy with bright red hair something he'd yet to see in this new world. "Same, I love the idea of bring families closer and sending everyone good will." He mused looking at the other chuckling softly "I'm very stoked for it, this will be the first year in awhile I've got all my siblings close enough to spend time with them. We celebrate Christmas, well I suppose some of us do either way I'm super excited."

Wally: Family. It was a little hard to think of that with Barry gone and his parents...well he just didn't really want to think of them. Hell he hadn't even decided if he was going to visit Iris yet. He smiled lightly and decided to join the guy on the bench to look at the tree. "I was an only child but I can imagine it must be pretty great having your siblings around for Christmas. In any case Christmas is the best for sure."

Gabriel: Looked at the other wondering if he had someone to spend the holidays with, he'd learned that many people were sometimes without family which made his heart hurt for those. "Really how interesting, I'm sure my youngest brother wishes he was an only child. But I rather like it, we sort of had a family falling out years ago this the first time we are all in the same city together. I'm sort of working up my courage to see how he is doing at the Lux club."

Wally: "Ah. Sibling rivalry. I've heard tales of it." The Titans were probably the closest thing to siblings he had and they had their tiffs for sure. Dick probably had the best examples of sibling rivalry of anyone he'd ever met. But that didn't mean the Bat Fam didn't have each other's backs when it counted. Mostly. He pat the other on the back in encouragement and grinned. "Hey man don't sweat it. I'm sure your brother will come around. If ever there was a time to patch things up and start again, this is it. That's what Christmas and New Years is all about right? Peace on Earth and goodwill and stuff."

Gabriel: He smiled nodding his head "it can be quite crazy but lucky I'm pretty close to the youngest group so I i admit its hard playing both sides." He mused looking at the other he was hoping to move forward with his fallen brothers, especially Lucifer, he really missed his younger sibling and hopped maybe with everything happening they could get on better terms. "Thank you that's very kind of you to say, currently he is going through a rough patch and I want to be there for him but I don't want to come off overbearing. Its hard being the elder brother at times especially when once upon a time we were so close. I miss that closeness we used to share."

Wally: "That is a fine line to walk. Wanting to be closer but afraid to push them away at the same time." He'd done the same thing with his friends. It had taken him so long to decide to come back to them but he did and they welcomed him without question. He knew not everyone was so lucky but he had hope. "I think you'll be close again. You're his brother. That has to count for something." Wally was sometimes too optimistic for his own good but during Christmas he felt it was justified. His specialty was bringing some cheer to where it was needed most and as he watched the kids playing, some he even recognized from F.E.A.S.T. an idea came to him and he grinned. "You wanna join a snowball fight?" It was totally random but this guy sounded like he could use some good old fashioned winter fun right about now.

Gabriel: "You are right very fine line so far the last time we saw one another it was nice, we didn't beat each other up like before." He mused smiling softly he missed Lucifer and fighting with him in the Veil only made that feeling so much stronger if he was honest with himself. "I love your optimistic not maybe people have that gift , I think you are right clear all the negative from my head and we should get close again. I never stopped caring about him I'll just have to show him." Gabe's smile returned almost tenfold when the other mention a snowball fight. "I'd love one! its actually be my first in a long time promise to take it easy on me? OH I'm Gabriel by the way, Gabe for short." He replied hopping off the bench holding out his hand.

Wally: Alright that just wasn't fair. No one should be allowed to look that good. The dude, Gabe's smile was practically blinding. Holy hell. Wally did his best to shake it off and laughed as he held out his hand to shake the others. "Wally West. Optimism is kind of my thing. There's always a bright side somewhere if you're willing to look." He grinned happily and started towards the kids calling to them. "Hey guys, this is my new friend Gabe! Mind if we join you?" They kids all looked at each other before agreeing excitedly and separated themselves into teams. Having a grown up on their side gave them a great advantage after all. Wally turned back to Gabe nearly buzzing with his own excitement. "Alright if this is your first snowball fight I'll try and go easy on you. The kids might not though so just, heads up. Basically there's two teams right. And you just run around pelting each other with snowballs until the other teams give up! Easy!" Ok so maybe those rules were oversimplified but that's how he used to play with the Titans. Only they used super powers. Which reminded him of one other thing Gabe should know. "Just remember when you're making a snowball don't pack it too tight. And make sure there's no rocks or ice in it. We don't want anyone getting hurt you know. This is strictly for fun. No tears allowed. Unless of course you feel the need to cry when my team wins. I promise I won't judge." Cute or not Gabe was so going down and Wally couldn't wait.

Gabriel: He was quite happy for the distraction in the form of Wally the male seemed to be just as fun as he was plus it gave him an excuse to not wonder into the Lux too early and set Lucifer off. He walked a rather thin line when it came to his youngest brother but he was still happy to be close to him once again. "Sounds like great advice to live by when one thinks about it" he mused letting the other talk giving the kids a slight wave of his hand. He looked at his teammates smiling before being pulled back to Wally. "That sounds amazing, I hope you wont cry if I get you a couple times then?" he teased nodding his head he'd seen the other making the snowballs enough to get the hang of it plus it will be fun either way I'm sure" he mused before nodding is head chuckling at the other "I promise no tears or pain, but try not to cry if If my team takes the win after all I could be some snow chap" he mused moving over to his team to help make some snowballs for the starting fight.

Wally: Wally was glad he could provide a distraction if nothing else. Christmas time was no time to be down when you could be getting that holiday cheer. He grinned a cheeky grin at the other's words, before switching his tone to one of mock sympathy. "Listen Gabe you're a cool guy and all, but you're not going to hit me. Not even once. But don't feel too bad though. I was the dodge ball king back in high school." Or he would have been if he'd been allowed to use his powers. He totally let those jerks pelt him back then.The kids had built up two snow barricades to act as bases for their teams and Wally went to the one closest to him to plot with the kids on his side. Once their strategy was set he picked up a snowball and made a show of stretching out in front of the enemy team and Gabe. "All right kiddos let me show you how a pro gets things done." With that he sent a snowball flying straight at Gabe. At normal speed of course. He didn't want to crush the poor guy on his first strike. Not in his first snowball fight ever. With the first ball in the air the game was on and with a yell it began. "ATTACK!" The kids behind him all screamed and let their own snowballs fly. Wally was smiling like a loon as he peppered the other team as best he could with going over board.

Gabriel: Gabe had to admit he was beyond glad that he could spend time with Wally he seemed like quite a fun person plus his bright red hair had captured Gabriel's attention almost immediately. He decided it was best to not go over using his strength and powers less the other feel he gave them an unfair advantage. "I bet I can hit you just once during this little snowball fight, Loser buys the Hot chocolate what do you say? We both come out a winner." He mused holding out his hand winking at Wally. He smiled watching the kids excitedly get ready for the fight, it was times like this he loved humanity, things were so simply to kids compare to adults. "Okay now we are going to not only win but have an amazing time okay?" He told the kids smiling at their cheers before he ducked to move away from the snowballs flying "Cheater!" he chuckled out loud throwing his snowballs "Let them have it."

Wally: "Alright hot stuff, you're on. I'll take that bet. That hot chocolate is going to taste so much sweeter when you buy it for me." Wally wasted no time and once the game started he was off like a rocket. No super speed yet but even his normal fast was crazy. He made snow balls in record time and his team now had an endless supply. When he joined the fray he targeted Gabe specifically. Mostly because he didn't want to go for the kids because that seemed kind of low but also because it was the best tactical option to take out the strongest asset first. He almost missed the snowball coming at him from the side but his speed kicked in just for a split second, lighting flashed across his eyes as he moved imperceptibly fast just enough to doge before time slowed again and he was going at the kids pace. Any normal human wouldn't have seen that be he was unaware of who the person was that he had actually challenged.

Gabriel: He couldn't help but chuckle at the other he could tell he was going to like Wally alot, they male had similar energy to him which made wanting to be friends with him quite easy. He wouldn't even mind paying for Hot chocolate if his team lost after all this fight was the most fun he'd had in ages. He didn't know Wally had powers of course had he been human maybe he wouldn't have noticed the sudden super speed. He couldn't help but smile using some of his strategy to up his aim a bit trying to get a snowball and hit the red haired male moving to dodge anything coming his way. "is that the best you've got Wally?"

Wally: The kids were dropping fast now as one by one they started to get tired or took one too many snow balls. Wally was laughing and running around making more snowballs and generally having a great time. He might as well have been a kid himself for all the fun he was having. There was a reason he got along so well with the kids from F.E.A.S.T. It was also why the Flash helped deliver presents on Christmas Eve. This was what the holidays were about and Wally loved it with his every fiber of his being. The challenge from Gabe only made him grin wider. "You wish. You haven't seen even half the things I can do." The battle was slowing down as the kids gradually began to sit on the side lines. Of course his energy reserves were doing just fine and he wasn't waning at all in his onslaught. He saw the snowball Gabe threw at him coming and caught it mid air with a smirk. He pulled his arm back and sent it flying right back at Gabe, certain that it was going to hit.

Gabriel: Gabe was enjoying himself itd been such a long time since he'd be this free and happy. Lately he'd been feeling a tad off but after spending time with the kids and Wally he felt rejuvenate in a way he couldn't explain. The holidays while not all of his siblings favorite time still was great because they once again were all together. He could tell the kids were getting tired with their snowball antics which was fine because his subject was Wally. He chuckled at the others reply looking back at this attempts he enjoyed the fun that came with fight. So when wally caught his snowball only to throw it back he let it hit him. " ahh I've been hit" he fell to the ground pretending to die " how cruel the world is did you see how vicious he was in his attack kids?" He chuckled making the kids laugh.

Wally: Wally laughed and did a victory lap as Gabe went down, moaning about his epic loss. "Woo! That's right! Team Wally for the win! Heck yeah!" The next moment he was gobsmacked as the kids proceeded to ignore him in favor of going to check up on Gabriel to make sure he was ok. His heart melted at the sight of them checking Gabe's forehead and trying to see if he was hurt. They were such good kids. He shook his head smiling lightly as he went over to help. He held out his hand to help the other up out of the snow. "Looks like victory is mine. These kids are shaming me pretty good in sportsmanship though so what do you say. Truce?"

Gabriel: Gabriel chuckled softly watching Wally do his victory lap before he had all the kids rush to him checking him over. This is why he loved kids so much, they were always so kind and loving before the world or people molded and changed them. “I’m okay I shall struggle with this loss” He teased the kids tickling a few before waving his hand “I will say though I have all these candy canes, and it's only fair to share them huh?” He mused handing each kid from both teams cane telling them how great they played as they ran off to their parents who were waiting. He smirked at the hand Wally held out to him taking it without any issue hiding a little bit of snow in his other patting through the others bright red hair. “Oops” he smirks laughing nodding his head “quite so, they are brilliant at sportsmanship and I do accept that Truce. How about that Hot Chocolate I promised?”

Wally: The scene was heart warming really. The kids obviously loved the candy canes and he loved seeing them so happy and carefree. However his own happiness was tinged with a little bitterness as he watched some return to their parents, and some to their chaperones from FEAST. It wasn't fair that those so young had to go through something as terrible as growing up without a home or family. But that was why he did what he did. If no one else would love them then he would. Just like Barry did for him. He was smiling as he helped Gabe up until something cold ran through his hair and down his back. "ha-ah! AH! COLD!" He jerked back and shook his hair out as best as he could but the damage was done and his usually bright red fluffy locks were now damp and limp as they hung down into his eyes. "Well that was cheap! So much for sportsmanship!" He shivered and made a show of shaking off the cold. It might have been a little exaggerated but that smirk of Gabe's left him even more flustered than the snow and he had to play that off. "You do realize this means I have to get you back at some point?" Despite his words he was still grinning like mad at the other. "But later. Right now I'm going to need something to warm up after all this cold."

Gabriel: He had greatly loved hanging out with the children and spending time playing a game he'd only seen from Heaven. He had fun, enjoying the laughter of child who seemed to wish him and Wally all good will before they left. Gabe chuckled at how well he'd managed a sneak attack on Wally if anything Michael would be proud of how well he'd played things. "sorry Wally but you know its only fair I was cold now we both can be." He chuckled happily looking at the other before smiling " I suppose so but either way I planned to warm you up with some nice Hot Chocolate so maybe you'll find it in your heart to forgive me" He gave a rather cute pout before nodding his head pulling the other towards the Hot Chocolate tent "They have a couple kinds, Mellow Hot Chocolate, Mint Hot Chocolate or Regular what do you feel like?"

Wally: Ok. Saying something like 'i was planning to warm you up' should not have sounded sexy at all. And yet here he was, having those kinds of thoughts when clearer that was no the intention. Then Gabe hit him with a pout that should not have been as cute as it was and Wally was even more confused. He was freakin hopeless. He was also really good at being in denial so he just laughed and shook his head. "Your bribe is tempting, therefore I will forgive you. This time." He was grinning ear to ear as he followed the other into the tent, sighing as the warmth and scent of chocolate filled the air. "Mmm you know I think I'll go for the mint. I like switching things up."

Gabriel: Had to admit it was nice having Friends even if their was something quite new between them it felt nice to have someone to hang out with that wasn't his family. He chuckled softly "Yes I told you I can be quite convincing, plus I've just thought to share the snow with you since you shared with me" He teased the other before nodding his head "perfect I'll get a mellow one" He mused ordering their hot chocolate and paying for their stepping to the side to wait for it. "smells good doesn't it?"

Wally: Wally had severely underestimated just how convincing his new friend could be. hell it's not like the guy was actually doing anything particularly convincing in the first place. Wally was just weak. That was it. He rolled his eyes still smiling. "How generous of you. We should get you a medal to commemorate your generosity." He stood beside Gabe as they waited for their drinks, the other people happily chatting and milling about around them. He took a deep breath and slowly released it, taking in the smell of chocolate hanging in the air. "Mm it does. Thank you. I know we tease and all but I do actually appreciate it. The drink and the snowball fight. People underestimate what a little fun can do you know." Wally may not have admitted it to himself or anyone else but he also had a lot on his mind this season and a snowball fight with a perfect stranger turned friend had been just the distraction he needed.

Gabriel: Gabe smiled at the other he was quite glad to have run into someone new while hanging out by the tree, he'd known plenty of his siblings were off doing whatever made them happier so it was nice to have something of his own. "I wouldn't mind one, I bet I'd look very dashing with some medals" He chuckled softly looking around everything smelled heavenly and he could still hear the sounds of happiness filling the air. "You are very welcome Wally, I appreciate you hanging out with me after the game, its been quite along time since I've had this much fun" He replied honestly smiling when their drinks were done passing Wally's his. "So what other things do you like to do for fun? I'm curious"

Wally: Dashing was definitely one way to put it but Gabe didn't need a medal to look good. He did that just fine with his stunning smile and those blue eyes and that curly hair and, oh wow. Wally really needed to stop. He was getting way too ahead of himself here. He chuckled and nodded. "Yes dashing. I'm sure you would. And you're welcome too. Though It's not like I was going out of my way or anything. I just like having fun. Especially this time of year." He was more than happy to spread the love and cheer with someone who needed it. The last question had him pondering for a second. "Well, I play video games and watch movies, jam out on my guitar or bass, go running, swimming, basketball, I volunteer a lot. That's actually how I knew those kids. Most of them were from F.E.A.S.T. I don't know if you've heard of it but it's a great place. They do a lot of good there and i'm happy to be a small part of that." Was he speed talking? He didn't think so but when he got to rambling it was harder for him to tell. Shockingly he wasn't used to talking about himself this much. Which meant it was time to switch subjects. "What about you? What sort of things do you do when you're not getting utterly destroyed in snow ball fights?"

Gabriel: Had to admit this wasn't his first time being called dashing, there were entire artworks detailed to his face taking on his beauty unlike his brothers who looked more like a hot mess then anything real. Yet hearing it from wally made him smile a bit more chuckling "it's still was quite the first meeting, it's been awhile since I've had fun like that, things have been rather strange since moving here to New York. Much like everyone else its been a rather up and down year." He replied honestly he hadn't felt this happy since before he arrived here and learned the truth of his father's cruelty towards his siblings. "That sounds amazing, i mean not many people volunteer much here I've noticed and I have heard of F.E.A.S.T I love their work and often working towards doing more for them. Sort of a pet project of mine, i have quite the soft spot for children." He mused enjoying all the new information he'd gotten from Wally he was quite a wonderful person. "Well not at completely exciting as everything you do, I enjoy reading all types of books really you'll often find me with a book in my hand compared to gaming controller but I still can hold my own thanks to my elder brother. I also love cooking and baking so i like finding and trying new food to create, spending time with my family is always a plus in my book. It never fails to make me smile finding activities that will make my siblings smile and laugh. " He mused honestly smiling softly as their drinks were given to them taking a sip. "Mhmm its soo good isn't it?"

Wally: "Tell me about it. New York ain't like Kansas that's for sure. It's a whole other animal." New York City was probably three times the size of Keystone City and eve for a guy who could see it all in seconds, it was a lot. He listened, nodding along and smiling as Gabe explained his own interests. They had a lot in common but some differences as well. Wally for example, couldn't cook to save his life. It took WAY too long for a speedster. "A love of books we have in common and also a love of food. Though I am probably the worst cook you can imagine. Big ups to you for learning how to cook. I usually make due with fast food and hot pockets." He sipped his hot chocolate admiring the way he talked about his family. No wonder the guy was excited to see them this year. By the sound of it they seemed very important to him. He was about to answer Gabe's comment about the drink when he tipped it back and got nothing. "Huh. It was. Must have been better than I thought since I downed that in no time."

Gabriel: "I take it you are from Kansas then? I've never been there I hear its a lot of farm land is that true?" Gabe questioned wondering about other places outside of New York. He was beyond happy to be making friends with the other boy it wasn't as if he had plenty and enjoyed having people around after coming from so many siblings "Yeah? food is amazing and sometimes a good book is enough to keep me entertained all night, I've never had a hot pocket before does it taste good?" he asked wondering if the other wanted to grab some food later with him given that he seemed to like food as much as he did. "I enjoy cooking it does take some time though If i ever cook for you I can just invite you over when it's done, then you reap the reward of my cooking" he mused smiling as he sipped his drink till the end before looking at the other. "That's cute Wally, I'm glad you like it, you know we don't have to end our company if you'd like, maybe we could look around together and grab some more treats?"

Wally: "Put it to you this way. If you like wheat, corn and cows...and nothing else, than Kansas is a great place for you." He wasn't joking either. Outside of the cities that was pretty much what Kansas had. "Oh and tornadoes. But you get used to it." They didn't mean anything to him but even for the rest of the Kansas populations it was a normal enough occurrence that it didn't faze them too much. Wally was a little taken aback by the offer to cook for him. Out of the blue. They'd barely met but Gabe seemed so, open. More so even than him and that was saying something. "Well, I mean sure I'd love to hang out some more. And I'd love to try your cooking and show you what a hot pocket tastes like, not that it's anything to write home about. But...I don't know I'm just not used to people liking me so quickly. Are you sure you really to want to do this? I'm asking now so you don't make a mistake you might regret later." Wally winked and laughed but there was an undertone of insecurity there that he couldn't mask if he tried. It was just a habit of his to make light of things that worried him or things that he was unsure of.

Gabriel: "I have to admit I've never seen a Cow up close are they cool animals? though I have to wonder what place you like more New York or Kansas" Gabe asked curiously things about Wally keep getting more and more interesting as he chatted with the other. "Tornadoes quite the thing they are destruction and beauty if you believe the whole eye of the storm thing" He mused He smiled softly at the other "I love cooking for people....that offer was odd huh? sorry I'm quite new at this whole making friends thing. I'd like to try a hot pocket especially if you give me tips. I like you Wally you are fun to hang out with...I'm sorry if I'm too strange" He mused running a hand through his hair, humans were so hard to understand but then again he did like Wally. "I want to hang out more with you and get to know you, if you'd be willing to get to know me?"

Wally: "Oh Kansas for sure. Don't get me wrong, New York is great and all. But in the famous words of Dorothy Gale, there's just no place like home." Keystone would always be his city and even if he was currently stationed in New York City he still cleaned up the Keystones streets any chance he got. Central too if Barry was busy. "I've seen tornadoes and cows up close and personal so I can say for sure that cows are cute and that tornadoes are awesome. The destruction isn't, but nature is incredible in it's own right." As Gabriel began to apologize Wally was quick to ease his worries. "No no you're not odd at all. I'm the one who's odd. Frankly I was just surprised you hadn't gotten tired of me yet. I'm not exactly everyone's cup of tea you know." He chuckled a little at the quip and smiled. "Of course I'd be happy to hang out with you. And if you really REALLY want to, I'll even get you a hot pocket. Though as a cook you might want to brace yourself. They're not exactly five star quality haha." This whole meeting felt incredibly serendipitous. Almost like it was too good to be true. That didn't bother Wally at all. He'd always been of the mind set that you roll with the good times and the bad. He was going to enjoy this new friendship as long as it lasted.

Gabriel: “Sounds like a nice place, maybe one day I can go visit down there, at least see where you came from and how cool it sounds.” Gabe replied smiling softly it was nice to see other places and he thinks he might have seen Kansas once upon a time but he hardly remembered anymore. “Cows and cute and tornadoes are awesome just so long as the destruction is kept to a minimum, Got it” He mused chuckling. Gabriel wasn’t sure if he mis-stepped but he was grateful when Wally told him he hadn't and he didn’t want to ruin his friendship. “Oh good I’m so glad to hear that you don’t find me odd. I don’t think I could, you are very fun Wally, I mean what about you makes people tired?” he questioned curiously what about Wally made people upset he couldn’t understand at all. “I don’t mind, My other siblings are huge snack lovers, they might have even fed them to me and I don’t remember every new thing they like to show me in terms of food there is a lot. But I can get some good ideas from them about food related fun” He mused happily chuckling softly before wrapping his arm around Wally’s shoulder. “This is going to be the start of a great friendship just you wait Wally.”

Wally: Gabe definitely made Kansas sound a lot cooler than it actually was. Obviously Wally liked it because that was where he grew up and that's where his home city was but most people didn't really care for it. Especially people who were used to huge metropolitan areas. But Gabe seemed really interested so, why not? "Maybe I'll take you sometime. Show you the sights." Even if there weren't too many sights to see. This whole whirlwind of a friendship was fast even for Wally but he didn't mind one bit. Gabe was kind and generous and easy on the eyes. Wally wasn't surprised they hit it off so well but he was surprised at how quick Gabe was to defend him when they had only just met. The insecure part of him knew it was probably only temporary and that one day Gabe would grow tired of him but the optimistic side didn't really care. If that was what happened then he'd cross that bridge when they got there. For now he was just happy to get to know the guy. He smiled hearing him talk more about his siblings so fondly. "You're family sounds like a great bunch. Complicated, but still great. I'm lucky to find people who can tolerate me." He felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the hot chocolate cover him as Gabriel put his arm around him. For a second he wanted nothing more than to just stay like that, warm and safe and happy. He didn't know how long this would last, whatever this was, but he intended to enjoy every moment of it. "I think so too Gabe." A great friendship indeed. Whatever came next Wally was going to embrace it for however long he could. /END

#discord chat #Rocking Around the Christmas Tree #Featuring Wally West

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goindownshipping · 4 years ago

Note

Please do #3 for Stony

Take me into your loving arms

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark (Stony)

Rating: Teen (T)

Notes: “A breathy demand: “Kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond.” In this universe, people have multiple soulmate matches, and people often meet more than one soulmate in a lifetime. Thanks for another great one, @ohwereusingourmadeupnames!

Word count: 3.2k

Summary:

Tony didn’t live with much regret in life. He was proud of his work, he had great friends, he was involved in the community. The darkness only crept in on particularly bad days when he returned to an empty condo, reminded of the fact that he couldn’t find a partner in life. In all reality, it shouldn’t have been that hard for him to find someone.

Or, Tony has given up on finding a soulmate when he matches with an unlikely colleague.

Feel free to send me prompts!

Ever since he was a child he’d been taught about soulmates. He read fairytales and watched movies about when people finally met one of their matches. As a child, he dreamed of the day that he would finally brush hands with someone and everything around them would disappear except whatever his soulmate was thinking at that moment. The movies made it look beautiful; the prince asking the princess to dance, taking her hand, and in that instant, the world would shift on its axis. Immediately the prince and princess knew they were meant to be and they lived happily ever after.

But of course, that’s not how it worked in the real world. Tony met his first match when he was 16 and he was elated. He couldn’t believe he’d found a match already! He couldn’t understand why that first boyfriend dumped him a few months later, claiming they’d met a match with a stronger connection. That was when Tony learned that he didn’t live in a fairytale; meeting a soulmate didn’t mean guaranteed happiness. It seemed like some kind of sick joke that the universe would identify your most compatible partners only to remind you that you’re still not good enough for them.

Years passed and Tony lost faith in soulmates. He avoided people that seemed like they could be matches, resorting to casual hookups, and flings through college. It seemed like the safest way to avoid perpetual heartbreak. Years after college he met Pepper Potts and he thought he’d finally found it. They fit together perfectly and Tony let his battered heart and self-confidence rebuild itself.

That went out the window when his best friend Rhodey got out of the Air Force and came home so Tony could finally introduce him to Pepper. It seemed like a cruel joke when he watched them shake hands and saw the faraway look in both their eyes. As much as they tried to laugh it off and ignore it for a while, it was only a matter of time before things broke down between Pepper and Tony.

Tony couldn’t be too mad about that one. Pepper and Rhodey were the two best people he knew and who was he to get in the way of that. Besides, he had too much fun taking credit for their disgustingly happy marriage.

So all in all, Tony was happy with how his life had played out. He’d long ago given up on finding another soulmate and was perfectly content with that decision. He was grateful that he’d had early success in his career, and now sat in an executive position at a swanky marketing firm.

Said executive position had him in charge of the annual summer picnic for his division and he was doling out responsibilities to his team. As he went down the list he focused on Steve Rogers. Steve was his second in command in the office and the guy drove him up the wall. They’d started around the same time at the firm, but had always rubbed each other the wrong way. They worked together well, but that was where it stopped. However, just because they weren’t friends, that didn’t mean they didn’t engage in some good office competition.

To: Rogers, Steve

From: Stark, Tony

Subject: Stark vs. Rogers 2020, Stark’s Revenge

Message: Get ready for the annual softball game, I’m not letting you steal this one! - TS

Tony knew he had a competitive streak, and he was certainly not going to let his team lose to Rogers in the company softball game once again. Year in and year out, Steve Rogers and his team managed to win the game, but it was always close, Tony’s team just barely losing, never by more than two runs. This year, Tony wasn’t going to let that happen. Team Stark was barely holding on to a tie game, and all Tony had to do was make it from second base to home plate.

As Clint prepared for his wind-up, Tony took a lead off the base, hands on his knees, and ready to run. He glared at Steve, who was crouched behind home plate, daring him to throw him out if he stole third. Before he could think about it too long, the ball was out of Clint’s grip and sailing toward Natasha. Her swing made contact with the ball with a loud crack, spurring Tony into a full sprint toward third. He rounded third without hesitation, closing in on sweet victory over Team Rogers.

As he sprinted down the third base line, Tony could see Steve poised on home plate, waving frantically toward one of his outfielders. He could nearly taste the victory when he saw the highlighter yellow softball come in to view out of his periphery. Before he could think about it, Tony tucked his left leg under, extended his right leg toward the plate, and used his speed to propel him into a slide. As soon as his foot hit plastic, Tony felt the thump of Steve’s glove against his shoulder. Before he could look to Bruce for his call, everything shifted around him.

Suddenly, he felt as if his head was underwater. The loud voices and cheers were reduced to soft echoes, nothing quite reaching his brain. Through the fog, he heard one voice loud and clear, ringing brightly in his head.

“What the hell?”

Tony knew that voice. That deep, buttery smooth timbre belonged to none other than Steve Rogers. Tony turned his head slowly, unable to move any faster, and was surprised to see Steve on a knee, his hands pressed to his temples.

“Oh fuck, come on!”

Steve pressed his fingers hard into his temples, willing his body to regain some semblance of balance. When he heard Tony’s gravelly voice break through the haze, he paused. He forced his eyes open and they immediately locked with Tony’s.

In a moment, the world seemed to snap back into motion; noise and commotion rushing around them. Natasha knelt at Steve’s side as Bruce checked on Tony. Before anyone could ask any questions, Tony looked up at Bruce.

“Please tell me I was safe."

Both teams erupted into laughter, the tension leaving the air for the moment.

“Yeah man, you were safe. Looks like Team Stark finally got a win under their belt."

With that, a few team members helped Tony and Steve to their feet, watching both men cautiously. It wasn’t unheard of for people to discover a soulmate in front of a group of people, but it wasn’t exactly commonplace either. Most of the crew disappeared, leaving Tony and Rhodey standing with Steve and Bucky. Steve nodded toward Bucky and whispered something about a quick word with Tony.

Rhodey looked between the two of them and shook his head with a smile on his face. “I’ll be with Pepper, Tony,” he said as he walked away.

As much as Tony wanted to whine in protest, he knew he needed to get this conversation over with. He turned to Steve, with his stupid blue eyes, unfair beard, and drool-worthy chest. Those were new thoughts for Tony, but damn if Steve looked good with a light layer of sweat and breathing heavily from exertion. He couldn’t help but look Steve up and down, drinking in the man in front of him, evidently, a soulmate. He tried to think through all the years he’d known Steve, unable to believe they’d never made physical contact until that moment.

“Before you say anything,” Tony started, “I don’t really do soulmates."

Steve took a deep breath, trying to keep his own emotions in check. “What do you mean by that, Tony?”

“Exactly what I said, Rogers. You know how I am, I’m not built for relationships, and I’m certainly not built for soulmates."

“Well, clearly you are, given what just happened out here."

“I never said that I’ve never matched with anyone, I just said I don’t do soulmates. Ask Pepper if you want. We tried, I wasn’t good enough,” Tony rambled.

“Do I get a say in this?” Steve interjected.

“What could you possibly have to say, Steve? You know as well as I do that we’re like oil and water, why should we try something we know won’t work?”

“I know that you’re stubborn, and you’re driven. You’re the smartest guy in this division by a mile and you’re dedicated to anyone and anything that matters to you. I think we’d be stupid to ignore what lies under the surface for us."

Tony shook his head hard. “No, Steve, I can’t." Tony took a deep breath and opened his mouth as if he was going to continue, but he snapped it shut.

Before Steve could say anything else, Tony spun on his heel and headed toward the rest of their colleagues and friends. “I’ll see you behind the barbecue in an hour or so!” he called back toward Steve.

When Tony dropped onto the bench next to Pepper and Rhodey he immediately closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the backrest. He hoped for a moment of peace before the interrogation he knew was coming, and managed to count to 30 before Pepper cleared her throat.

“Yes, Pep?” he asked without opening his eyes.

“You wanna tell us what the hell just happened, Tony?”

“I think you know what just happened,” Tony sassed back.

“Alright, alright,” Rhodey soothed. “What did you and Steve talk about?”

“Nothing important. I told him that I don’t do soulmates, he got stubborn about it, that’s it."

Pepper and Rhodey shared a glance.

“I can hear you silently judging me. At least do it out loud so I can join the fun,” Tony quipped.

“We’re not judging you,” Pepper started.

“Don’t you want to at least give it a shot? I mean, it’s Steve. He’s a great guy, I’ve never understood your beef with him,” Rhodey said.

Tony snorted. “Yeah, no way. I don’t want to give it a shot especially because it’s Steve. Now, I have an hour until I have to cook all your lunches with the guy, so be nice to me."

The three of them rejoined everyone else on the grass where several games of corn hole, volleyball, and other lawn games were in full swing. Tony grabbed a badminton racket, happily joining in on the fun. He was surprised to see Steve sitting off to the side; he was usually one to engage in team bonding.

Steve was watching Tony with an unreadable look on his face. At first glance, Tony thought he looked angry. Upon further inspection, Tony could see the slight furrow in his brow and pout on his lips. Tony wasn’t sure what to do with the thought that Steve was upset with him, so he turned his attention back to the match at hand, laughing and distracting himself for the time being.

Steve sat quietly, deep in thought as he watched Tony let loose and have fun with their friends and teammates. He wasn’t sure why Tony never revealed that side of himself to Steve, and he tried not to take it personally. He was just as shocked as Tony was at home plate that afternoon, but Steve couldn’t ignore the inkling in his gut telling him to go for it. He wasn’t one to follow soulmate matches blindly; he’d done it once before and everything was perfect until it wasn’t.

Steve truly believed he didn’t have another match out there after Peggy and he couldn’t bear the thought of losing the opportunity to explore a relationship with Tony. He knew Tony was terrified, he was too. He wouldn’t pressure Tony into anything, but he only hoped that maybe over time, Tony would give him a shot.

Before either of them knew it, Steve and Tony were situated behind one of the many old grills stationed around the park. Luckily the rest of the team had provided the supplies and all they had to do was grill everything up. They worked quietly for a while, easily moving around each other and alternating between watching the grill and getting the rest of the food set out. Tony may have been somewhat helpless in the kitchen, but he knew his way around a barbecue.

Steve stood back and watched, happy that Tony seemed at ease around him for once. His fingers itched to initiate more contact with the other man, but he fought against the urge. He was brought out of his thoughts by Tony clearing his throat.

“Steve, can you get all the sides set out? I’ll finish up here,” Tony said, gesturing to the grill.

Steve nodded, “Sure thing, Tony." In his haste to get everything ready to go, Steve turned around too quickly and missed the smallest of smiles across Tony’s face.

Once all the food was set out across the picnic tables, Steve called out to everyone and waved them over. Steve and Tony stood back, letting everyone get their plates of food. They easily refilled plates and platters, passing utensils and empty dishes back and forth. When everyone had their food and had settled at the further set of tables, Steve and Tony quietly made their own plates.

“Hey, Tony?” Steve asked quietly.

“Yeah Rogers?”

“Any chance you’d like to join me here for lunch? I’m not sure I can handle all the energy over there."

Tony hesitated. “I, uh-”

“I won’t pester you about earlier, I promise,” Steve interrupted.

Tony watched Steve’s face. The slight droop in his shoulders and genuinely hopeful look in his eye had Tony agreeing. “Sure, Steve."

They situated themselves next to each other at the picnic table, eating in silence. The sounds of laughter and vibrant camaraderie filled the air, making them both smile. After a while, Steve looked up at Tony, a pensive look on his face.

“What is it, Steve? I can see you watching me,” Tony said with a smile.

“I know that I promised not to bring up the thing from earlier, but can I just say one more thing? Then I’ll drop it, I promise."

To Steve’s surprise, Tony just smiled and nodded, gesturing for Steve to continue.

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for pressuring you so quickly. It was unfair of me to ask something of you that I wouldn’t want to be asked of me, and I hate that I handled it that way. To be honest, I don’t do relationships or soulmate matches either, at least not anymore. I was so shocked when it happened, I really didn’t think I had another match out there, and I just forgot myself. I hope you can understand how sorry I am."

Tony stared at Steve, not fully understanding. “What do you mean you don’t do soulmate matches anymore?”

Steve paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “It’s been a very long time since I found a match. The last time I did, I thought I’d found my forever person, you know? But I didn’t and things fell apart. It’s not important, it was for the best, that’s for sure. But in the years since then, I haven’t met anyone else that could’ve even had the chance of being a match. I figured I was one of those people that really did have only one. And then you happened today and I got hopeful for a minute, but that wasn’t fair to put on you."

“Steve, as cliche as this is going to sound, my reaction today really had nothing to do with you. Yeah, you drive me nuts at work with all your protocols and doing everything by the books, but my panic today was all me. I’m- I’m broken, Steve. I’m not built for relationships."

“You said that earlier today, Tony. How do you know you just haven’t found the right relationship. What if it’s really not you at all?”

Tony just stared at Steve. The small part of his brain that had been screaming at him all day was blaring loudly in his head, urging him to just try for once. His entire being begged him to just give this a shot. He couldn’t ignore the magnetic pull he felt toward Steve now that he knew the thread tied between them.

“Steve, I can’t get hurt again. I just can’t do it,” Tony whispered.

Without thinking, Steve slid across the picnic bench until there was barely any space between him and Tony. He turned to straddle the bench so he could face the man next to him.

“Tony,” Steve murmured. “Give it a shot. Give me a shot, please."

Tony couldn’t take it anymore. The bodily need to touch Steve began clouding his judgment the closer the man got and it was all he could do to not climb right into Steve’s lap and burrow into his chest. Tony had never had such a strong reaction to a match before. He’d heard stories from friends about when they found their match that there was nothing they could do to fight that urge when they first matched. Sure, people had multiple soulmates out there, but some connections were stronger than others. That very fact led Tony to swear off soulmates, too scared of hurting his partner or being hurt in return.

But there, in that moment on a bench with Steve Rogers, Tony finally, finally, gave in.

“Steve,” Tony nearly sobbed. “Kiss me,” he breathed.

Instantaneously, Steve pressed his lips firmly to Tony’s as he wrapped his arms around Tony’s waist. He helped Tony turn to face him without breaking their kiss. The new position allowed Tony to tangle his hands in Steve’s hair and slide even closer to him. When Tony felt Steve’s tongue trail along his bottom lip, he gasped into the kiss. Steve took the opportunity to softly press into Tony’s mouth, exploring the warmth and softness there.

Tony was letting out little whimpers that he was completely unaware of, lost entirely in Steve. Those noises spurred Steve on, doing anything if it meant Tony would keep making those noises.

Eventually, Tony pulled back, sucking in a deep breath and resting his forehead against Steve’s. Steve unwrapped one arm from Tony’s waist and ran his fingers up and down Tony’s spine when he felt the man let out a shuddering breath against him.

“Was that okay, Tony?” Steve asked quietly.

Tony pulled back enough to look into Steve’s eyes and nodded. “More than. I didn’t know it could feel like that,” Tony admitted.

Steve smiled and in that instant, Tony felt his heart crack open and fill with warmth. He didn’t know anything could feel like this.

“You aren’t broken Tony, I can guarantee you that. Will you give me a shot to prove it to you? Please?” Steve asked hopefully.

Tony leaned his head against Steve’s shoulder, reveling in the feeling of being in the arms of a soulmate. For once, it made him feel safe and loved, rather than terrified and waiting for the other shoe to drop. He nodded, smiling against Steve’s shoulder.

“You’re already proving it to me, Steve,” Tony said with a smile.

#stony #stevetony #stevetony fics #mine

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chickensarentcheap · 5 years ago

Text

I Found

Chapter 5

Sorry this is so long. But it made no sense to split it up. I promised @c-a-v-a-l-r-y som Ovi and I didn’t want to let her down ;) also tagging @alievans007 and @hemmyworthy

“I've got a bone to pick with you,” he says to Ovi three hours later. It was a conversation that would be best done in private, but with thousands of miles and countless hours separating them, face time was the next best thing. “A big fucking bone.”

The kid looks good. Taller. Muscled. More mature in the face. It is surprising how someone can change in the course of just a year.

“What did I do?” Ovi laments. “I didn't do anything.”

“Cut the shit, kid. You know what you did. What was the first thing I told you? When Esme gave you her email and her cell number?”

“To make sure that I didn't accidentally send her anything dirty off the internet. And to make sure none of my friends got my phone and sent her dick pics.”

“Okay. What was the second thing I told you then? Do you remember? The second and more important thing.”

His brow furrows as he strains to remember. Then his eyes widen when he realizes his mistake.

“Yeah, you got it now, don't you, mate. You figured it out. I specifically told you not to message her about serious shit. That if you got any chatter about bullshit going on over there that you were to get a hold of me. Not her. So why the fuck up?”

“I don't know,” Ovi laments. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't know why I did it. I just did. I didn't mean to. It just happens.”

“That's the kind of bullshit excuse guys make when they fuck someone else or knock someone up.”

The kid frowns. “What?”

“Never mind. Point is, you opened a whole can of worms over here, mate. You really stirred the shit pot. Can you guess what happened? Can you just guess?”

“You got into a fight?”

“You're damn right we did. And this wasn't your normal fight about leaving the seat on the shitter up or leaving dirty socks on the bedroom floor or drinking the last of the milk straight out of the carton. This was the kind of shit show that happens when your girl asks you if she looks fat in what she's wearing and you say the wrong thing. This was almost months...if not years...of me sleeping on the couch, kid. And I'm sorry but I kind of like sharing a bed with my wife. You're lucky I can't reach through this thing and strangle the ever loving shit out of you.”

“I'm glad you can't. That ending would not be good.”

“No. It wouldn't. You really freaked her out, kid. She's fifty shades of fucked over here. And not fucked in the fun way. Her nerves are all over the bloody place now. She's freaking the hell out. And I'm the one that has to do battle against that demon. Not the particular hill I want to die on.”

“Die? Why would you die? She's going to kill you? I don't want her to kill you because of me. Let me talk to her. Let me...”

“It's a bloody saying, mate. But with the state of the things over here, she just may smother me in my sleep or poison my food. I know you didn't mean to do it, but fuck mate, what a goddamn mess.”

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause trouble. I just thought...I don't know...I just thought maybe it was better to talk to her. So you wouldn't get upset with me.”

“So I get upset with her instead? Well played, kid. Well played. Don't let it happen again, okay? You come to me. If it is shit like this. She doesn't need it. She's got enough shit to deal with. Don't add to her plate.”

“I'll call her. To apologize.”

“Just leave her alone for now. Let her come to grip with things. It's not a good time right now. She's not in a good place. So do me a favour and just hold off, okay?”

“Okay. I really am sorry, Tyler. I didn't mean to cause trouble. I just thought maybe she could help so I wouldn't have to come to you. Please don't hate me.”

“I could never hate you, mate. You know that. So what's up? What's going on? I only got so much out of her before shit hit the fan.”

Ovi delves into a tale of increasingly suspicious and frightening behaviour. What started out as simple hang ups on his cell and home line had someone transformed into dead animals left at the front door, graphic images sent to his email of dead bodies blown apart by bullets, warnings to watch his back when he was out on the street; that he better have eyes on the back of his head. And within the last two days things had really stepped up: extremely vivid descriptions of how and where he would meet his untimely demise.

“Let me guess,” Tyler says. “The bridge.”

Ovi nods. He looks as if he may cry. Or throw up. Or both.

“Mother fuckers,” Tyler mutters, and rakes a hand through his hair. “Did you tell the guys watching you all this? What did they say?”

“They said to just ignore it. That it was probably just someone playing a sick joke.”

“Rookies. You always take this shit seriously. Did you call Nik?”

“She's the one who told me to call you. But I got scared and I called Esme instead.”

“Scared of me? Why?”

“You get so angry. You get so angry and you said the doctor said you're going through a lot of stuff and...”

“Yeah my brain's mighty fucked up but that doesn't mean you keep shit from me. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, kid. You should know that by now. Outside of this, how are things going? How's school? What about the cute girl that you said you've been checking out for a while?”

Ovi is clearly relieved with the change in conversations. And he willingly and happily dives into tales of both his school exploits and his social life. The kid's become the hell of a story teller since coming out of his shell'; leaving no stone unturned, no details (even the most trivial out). And his face is content and his voice animated and it's almost enough for Tyler to forget about the shit the kid is dealing with. Alone, without the protection and the guidance of his father, with nothing more than servants, maids, and bodyguards to give him necessary human contact and care. It's a shit life. Sure, the money was great. And everything that came with having that kind of money. But how do you live day in and day out knowing what kind of prick your old man is? Knowing he's responsible for putting drugs out onto the streets and into the hands of vulnerable kids? Always having it on your mind that he was capable of killing another person?

That last part hits hard. He was that man. He was more than capable of taking a life. He'd shown it hundreds of times. And he wonders if he'll ever tell his daughter about that side of him. About his mercenary days. And how she would react to the news. It would suck coming from someone else, he supposed. Honesty was the policy. But how to tell your kids about something like that without totally fucking them up? Without them hating you?

That last part is a brutal kick in the nuts. The thought of his daughter hating of...thinking less of him...well it fucking kills him. And he briefly closes his eyes and struggles to get that thought of his mind.

“Tyler?” Ovi's voice. “Are you okay?”

He gives a reassuring smile. “I'm fine mate. Just a killer headache. It's been a long day. So there's nothing on the girl front? You haven't made your move yet? What's wrong with you?”

“I'm nervous,” he laments. “I don't know what to say to her.”

“I'm going to have to give you some pointers when I get there. Light a fire under your ass.”

“You're coming? Here?”

“Looks like it. But there's a lot to work out. I've got to get a hold of Nik and make some arrangements. It's going to take a few days at least. And my wife won't let me come alone...”

The kid's entire face lights up. “All three of you are coming? I get to meet the baby?”

“I'm not making any promises, okay? There's things that Esme and I need to talk about and work out. But she's pretty adamant about not letting me go alone and I've learned to pick my battles. Do me a favour, would you? Send me those pictures you got. Did you take any photos of the shit sent to the house?”

“Of course. I do remember some things you told me.”

“Send those to me too. What about the calls? You get any numbers?”

“All unknown numbers.”

Tyler knew it was too much to ask for things to be simple for once.

“I want you to send me anything and everything you have. And don't breathe a word of this to anyone around you, got it? Not a word. Not what's happening, not who you've been talking to. Don't even say my name. Less people know, the better. I'm still not sure if those fuckers know I'm alive or not. But let's just be on the safe side for now.”

They know, he thinks, as Ovi rambles some more about school and the girl he likes and how excited he is that he's going to be getting pointers from someone with experience. His friends know shit, after all. They're just as green and awkward as he is.

They know I'm alive. That's the only reason for this. They're trying to get me back there. And if they know I'm alive, they'll figure out my name. And once they know my name, nothing will be able to stop them from finding out where I am. Where I live. With my wife and my child.

And suddenly, it all becomes so much more serious than he initially thought.

*****

“What are you doing?” Esme asks later, as finds him at the kitchen table, the laptop open in front of him, a pen and a pad of paper off to the side. “Watching porn? Learning new moves? You have to write them down so you'll remember?”

“Smart ass,” he grins, and she stands behind his chair and rubs his shoulders before pressing a kiss to the top of his head. He watches as she crosses the room; the way she has to stand on her tip toes to get a coffee mug down from its shelf. That simple movement and the stretch of her arm causing the bottom of her t-shirt to rise up. Not only revealing a slice of the tattoo that covers her entire left rib cage, but gives him a peek of that ass clad in a lacy pair of black boy shorts.

“Don't you have any clothes of your own?” he inquires, as she pours a mug of tea from the pot she'd prepared before heading for a shower. “I swear that's all your shit taking up the room in the closet but you're always wearing my things.”

“I like your shirts better,” she replies. “They smell like you.”

That sounds like a good enough reason as any, he supposed.

“Baby asleep?” he asks, as she slips into the chair across from him.

“Finally. She was hungry again. She is your daughter. A bottomless pit for a stomach”

“She's growing,” he reasons, a hint of sadness in his voice. “I see it every day. How much she's changing. She pays more attention now. She looks for us when we talk to her. She smiles.”

“And before long she'll be bringing her first boyfriend home and asking to go on birth control.”

His eyes narrow as he stares at her. Long and hard.

She smiles and innocently sips her tea.

“Did your father go gray at an early age? Did you give him wrinkles? Cause him to drink excessively?”

“He had five kids altogether. I'm the second last. So he was already a wrinkly, gray haired, borderline alcoholic before I came along. And you know why ? Because had three boys before me.”

“Yeah, I'm sure that is exactly what caused his issues. The three sons that came before the first daughter. “

“You don't know my brothers,” she reasons.

It's true. He doesn't. They've never actually come face to face. He's seen pictures and vice versa and he's briefly chatted with them on the phone, but he knows very little about them. Nor do they know much about him. All they really did know was that their sister went on a 'business trip', hooked up with some random Australian, and never went back to Colorado. He was a mystery to them; ex army, someone that travelled a lot for work, got mixed up in some bullshit that ended up with him in the hospital and needing months of recovery. They knew his name. What he looked like. His age and where he was from.

But that's where the details stopped. Their wedding was small and secretive. She didn't tell her family there was a baby on the way until the last month arrived. Or why she had to be 'laid off' from work. It was messy and complicated; a lot of little white lies gathering into one huge fib. But it was for their own good.

“They're bat shit insane,” she adds. “They're savages.”

“My kind of savage or...?”

“Baby, there is no one out there that is your kind of savage. They're normal savage. They're normal human beings that do normal human being things. And we're...well we're...”

“Fucked up?”

“Well I was going to say complex but you always have had a way with words.

Leaning back in her chair, she stretches her legs out and rests her feet in his lap. Quietly sipping her tea as his one hand disappears under the table; dragging his knuckles slowly up and down the top of her foot, then along the bottom. Slowly, methodically. His eyes focused on that pad of paper as his right hand mindlessly scribbles and doodles. He's hard to read; a million and one things going through that beautiful head of his. Memories of his previous life. The things he's seen. The things he's done. Replays of conversations that they'd had today on the beach, the argument that they'd found themselves embroiled in. And more than likely some thoughts of Ovi and what ever had happened during their behind closed doors face chat. It wasn't cause for concern when Tyler fell quiet; he was a man of few words, the strong and often silent type. It was when he grew quiet and he got THAT look. Where his brow furrowed and his eyes darkened and he'd absentmindedly (and repeatedly) dragged his top teeth along his bottom lip. That twas when you should worry.

“What's up?” she asks casually. This is a thin line to teeter upon. Like walking across thin ice that you can hear cracking under your feet.

“Just tired,” he replies with a small smile, tilting his head to the side and causing his hair to fall across his forehead.

His knuckles continue to brush against her foot; over each toe and down the instep before travelling onto the ankle and down onto her heel and over the bottom. In the past few months he'd become increasingly needy when it came to physical touch. Both seeking it and giving it. Not that that wasn't a welcome change. This is a man who'd had to learn what it was like to love again. And to be loved. “It's been a long day,” he adds. “Too much sun. Always make me tired, you know that.”

She nods slowly, both hands clasped around her mug, the rim pressed against her lips.

“I'm sorry,” he says. “About our fight earlier. For some of the things I said. I didn't mean them. I say shit when I get upset. I lash out when I'm pissed off. Always at the people who don't deserve it. And I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that.”

“I know. But to be honest, you were pretty tame. You've said a lot worse over a lot less.”

“Maybe. But I still hate myself for doing it. I shouldn't have snapped like I did. I just wasn't expecting it, you know? It caught me off guard.”

“It's okay,” she assures him, and rubs her toes against his stomach. “And I'm sorry too. It probably wasn't the best time or place to bring all that up.”

“To be fair, that's kind of our history. It's how we met. Letting things happen in the wrong place at the wrong time. Seems to be our go to.��

“Remind me to never tell our daughter that. We're going to have to come up with a really good story for when she asks where she came from. Do you really want to be telling her she was conceived in some flea bag motel in Dhaka while you were trying to rescue a drug dealer's son?”

“Not exactly something you want to tell your kids. We're definitely not a love story that someone would write home about.”

“I don't know. It's the thing movies are made of, don't you think? Two people falling in love in the midst of some crazy shit? Surviving things that would kill most mortals? I'd watch it.”

“Would there be nudity?” he teases. “I'd watch if if there was nudity.”

“If it's about us, there'd be tons of nudity,” she says with a wink, and he can't help but chuckle. Their sex life has always been epic. Right from the very beginning.

“And I'm sorry for bringing Austin up,” she adds, and he glances up at the mention of his son. “I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have stooped that low.”

“You didn't stoop low. You had a right to bring him up. I know I don't talk about him much. And you know I don't like to talk about him. But you were right. I do think that way. I do feel guilty at times. I feel like a shit father who is forgetting about him. Who doesn't love him anymore because I brought another kid into the world to take his place.”

“She isn't taking his place, Tyler. That isn't why she's here. She's here because two people fell in love and they made something so incredible together. There's no other reason. She's here because she's meant to be. And she's here as her own person. She isn't a replacement.”

“I know. I do. But I can't help but think that way some time. My brain is fucked up. All those fucking pills...” he jerks his head in the direction of the microwave stand. Where a wide variety of medications prescribed in his name take up residence in a locked drawer. Pills for the pain. Pills to help him sleep. Pills for anxiety. Pills for depression. Pills for every single fucking thing under the sun. “...they fuck with my head. Some days I can't even remember what day it is.”

“That's not the pills. That's old age.”

He smirks. “First a Viagra joke and now a crack at my age? Do you want a divorce?”

“Not particularly, no. I kind of like having you around. I think I'll keep you.”

“Yeah? Good. Because I kind of like hanging out here. The food's good. I get my laundry done. I get laid on a regular basis. Things could be a lot worse, I figure.”

“You mean like sleeping on the couch for the rest of your naturally born life?” she teases, and he nods in agreement. Once again they fall into a comfortable silence; no noise except for the tick of the kitchen clock, the slight drip of the tap, and the hum of the laptop's fan. “So?” she eventually asks. “What are you doing?”

Sighing heavily, he turns the laptop to face her. The screen displaying one of the photos that Ovi had sent him: a headless cat with its blood smeared on the front door.

She grimaces. “I won't lie. I wish it was porn you'd been watching.”

“Ovi sent me these. And a whole bunch of others. Just weird and creepy shit for the most part. But whoever is doing this isn't messing around. It's all very deliberate.”

“You don't think they're just trying to scare him.”

“This goes above and beyond just trying to scare someone. This is bonafide psychotic bullshit. Whoever is doing this, they're after him. They're sincere with their threats. They're too invested in this. It's not just some passing fancy or some kid doing shit because they think it makes them look cool. This is the real deal. This is scary shit.”

“So he's definitely in danger.”

“No doubt in my mind. Maybe if it just went as far as the hang ups and the pictures, I'd say it's just someone fucking around. But the dead animals? The threats? The letters? That shit is very real.”

“Someone attached to Asif? Or even someone pissed off at Ovi's father?”

“This is definitely someone that's pissed off that Ovi got away and Asif died. Don't get me wrong; Nik had every reason to shoot him in the fucking head. But it is coming back to bite us all in the ass.”

She nods slowly, considering his words. “What's this?” she inquires, as she leans forward and picks up the note pad.

“Just some research I've been doing. Names mostly.”

Her eyes study what he has scrawled, eyes narrowing at one particular name. “Farhad? That one sounds familiar.”

“It should. That's the little fucker that shot me in the neck and nearly killed me.”

“Hmmm...” she traces a finger over each letter, as if committing it to memory. “...no last name.”

“None that any of my contacts could come up with. I'm sure I'll be able to find him if I put some feelers out.”

“Why would you want to? To kill him?”

“To talk to him. He's probably behind this bullshit. Why would you say kill him right off the hop like that?”

“Well, I wouldn't exactly blame you if you wanted to kill him,” she reasons. “Or if you did kill him. I think it's a reasonable response considering he almost killed you.”

“I'm not out for revenge. I'm out to help Ovi. This isn't about me.”

“But revenge isn't always a bad thing,” she gently argues. “And I think in this case...in our case...it's the only natural response.”

Tyler frowns. “He's a kid.”

“That shot you in the neck.”

“He's still a kid.”

“Why does that matter? Look at what he did.”

“He was only doing it to impress some drug lord dick head. Now he's probably up to shit thinking he's big and bad because he did supposedly kill me. But he's still a kid. A fucked up kid. But still a kid.”

“A kid that tried to fucking kill you!” she snaps, and he blinks at the anger in her voice. It's the first time she's ever truly snapped at him. Not the little flip outs she has when she has to tell him twenty times to do something or when she's tired and he's getting on her last damn nerve. This was different. This was rage. Vehemence. And those were the eyes of a woman possessed.

A woman out for blood.

“Well he didn't succeed did he? I'm still here. It's water under the bridge.”

“The bridge. The fucking bridge! Always the fucking bridge!”

“The bridge? What the fuck...?”

“The bridge! The bridge where he shot you! The bridge where you almost fucking died! I was on that bridge too! I was the one that held you when you were dying. I was the one that had your blood all over me. I was on that fucking bridge too, Tyler!”

“I know,” he rubs and squeezes her foot in an attempt to settle her down. “I know you were. But just calm down and...”

“Don't you fucking tell me to calm down,” she snaps, and yanking her foot out of his lap, pushes her chair away and jumps up with so much force that it nearly topples over. “Don't you do that. Don't you act like my feelings aren't valid!”

“I wasn't. That's not what I was trying to do. I know you were there. I know what you saw. And I wish every day it never came down to that. That you never had to see that. But I can't go back and change it. Didn't you say that to me today? That I can't go back in the past and change how I did things? This is the same thing.”

“No. It's not. It's the same damn thing at all! Don't you dare try and downplay this.”

“Esme...settle down...just take a breath...take a breath and let's talk about this calmly. Reasonably. Please...” he reaches for her and she slaps his hands away. “I'm not the enemy here, love. I'm not the bad guy. Don't push me away. You've been trying to do that for almost a year now. And I haven't gone anywhere yet.”

“How can you just sit there and be so calm about this?” she snags the pad of paper. “How can you act like this doesn't matter any more? That this name...this fucking name!...doesn't mean anything to you.”

“Because it doesn't. He isn't the first person that has tried to kill me. And he probably won't be the last.”

“Jesus Christ, Tyler. Are you really trying to normalize this?”

“It's the nature of the beast. All part of the job. You knew that when Nik dragged you into this. You really think he's the first asshole to try and kill me?”

“He's the first asshole that's tried to kill you right in front of me!”

Sighing, he runs his hands over his hair and through his hair and then leads back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest. “Maybe you should stay behind. Maybe it's better if you and the baby stay here.”

She stares at him incredulously. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“If shit hits the fan, which it probably will, it's probably best if you're not there. You went through it once. You don't need to see something like that again.”

“So you just wander off like you're fucking John Rambo and I stay with our baby...your baby...while you get killed?”

“What is this obsession with me getting killed? Do you really have that little faith in me?”

“Oh don't you play that card with me. I'm the only one around here that has had faith in you.”

“Then what the fuck is going on? What is happening right now? Because I honestly have no idea.”

“You're not a stupid man, Tyler Rake.”

“Well I must be because I have no fucking clue what you're going on about.”

“You almost died. You're not just some random of the street. Not some guy I was just randomly fucking. You're my husband. The father of my child. And you have the gall to ask me why I'm so upset? Oh I don't know Tyler. Maybe I'm upset that I saw you get shot in the neck and you were bleeding out all over me. Maybe that has something to do with it, do you think?”

“Okay settle down. Just settle down. Before you say something totally stupid you'll regret. I get it. I do. But you've got to let it go.”

“I'm never going to let this go. Not until this piece of shit...” she tosses the pad down onto the table. “...is lying dead in the street. I want revenge. You deserve that.”

“I don't want that. We got revenge when Nik killed Asif. Isn't that enough?”

“No. It's not. It won't be enough until that little bastard is stone cold dead and in hell where he belongs.”

And with that, she storms out of the room.

#tyler rake #extraction #tyler rake fan fiction #tyler rake fan fic #I Found

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h-o-l-l-i · 5 years ago

Text

I Run To You

Frank Castle x OFC! Jane Runner x Billy Russo

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: angst, language

Author’s Note: Requests are closed! Let me know what you think of this series! Let me know if you would like to be added to any of my tags!

Everything: @negans-lucille-tblr // @coffee-obsessed-writer

Frank Castle: @hudsonbird

The Punisher: @baseballbitch116 // @suchatinyinfinity

Series: @me-robot-x // @its-my-little-dumpster-fire // @imaginecrushes // @jooheoniesdimples

Part 1| Part 2| Part 3| Part 4| Part 5 (FINAL)***

“Hey, baby.” Billy’s warm, raspy voice called out after he heard the elevator door open into the living room. The sound of his bare feet padded on the marble floor towards you. “How did talking to Curtis go?” He smiled and rubbed her arm sweetly.

She faked a smile and melted into his affection, “Good.” She lied, “He thinks that Frank and I still have some unfinished business and that’s why I think I see him—” Jane cleared her throat, feeling the anguish ripping at her again. She turned to him, “He thinks that it’s a good idea for us to go away this weekend still.” She lifted onto her tip toes and pressed a soft kiss onto his lips, “I think so, too.”

“I’m so proud of you, Jane.” He said, running his fingers in her hair, “But, what do you think it is that’s between you and Frank?”

Jane peeled away from him and removed her jacket from her slender shoulders. “I never told you this but, I was in love with him.” She admitted, “And the day that we came back from our last tour he—” she paused, Billy’s eyebrows knitted together, “You remember how he left the base in a hurry?”

Billy nodded and leaned against the large white island in the kitchen, “Yeah, he wouldn’t even look at me—” he stopped himself briefly, “Jane, you told me Frank didn’t—”

“And he didn’t, Billy.” She interrupted his insinuation. “He left in a hurry because he kissed me—I don’t know why or—or what it meant but,” she paused and looked into Billy’s eyes. “It didn’t matter then and it doesn’t matter now.” Her voice trailed off into a whisper, she hugged Billy’s shirtless form, “I’m sorry I never told you…”

His hand came up to caress her body tightly pressed onto his, “We all loved Frank…it’s okay, Jane—I love you.” He whispered and kissed the top of her head.

“I love you too, babe.” She said into his chest.

“Come on, let’s get you all packed up; our car will be here in an hour and maybe we can—” he smiled devilishly and wiggled his eyebrows to her.

___

“You have truly outdone yourself, Russo.” Jane said swirling her wine inside of her glass. “Curtis was right, this weekend was just what I needed, I’m so sad it’s over already—have to go back to normal tomorrow.” She complained, popping out her bottom lip sarcastically.

“That’s mostly true.” Billy said making Jane cock her head to the side slightly. “Jane,” he said standing from his chair, “All of my life I have never known what true love felt like…until I met you.” He paused and lowered to one knee in from of her. “You saved my life two and a half years ago, a couple of days after that you gave me a chance; and for the past nine hundred and ten days you have done more than save my life, you have taught me what loving someone means.”

“Oh my God! Billy!” Jane gasped, tears seeping from the corners of her eyes as she looked at her boyfriend on one knee in front of her, his shaky hands opening up the small turquoise box.

“Jane Runner, would you do me the honor of becoming Mrs. Russo?” He said with a wide smile and looked deeply to her with love filled eyes.

Her head nodded rapidly, “Yes! Oh my God, yes!” She smiled and held out her left hand.

Billy slipped on the massive ring onto her thin finger and stood with her, “I love you!” He smiled and kissed her lovingly. “We’re going to get married! Oh my God!” He laughed happily.

“I know! I love you so much!” She hummed in happiness, “Mrs. Jane Russo does have a nice ring to it!” She said in awe of her new engagement ring that was delicately shining on her ring finger.

___

It now had been two weeks since her and Billy came home from their weekend getaway; they found great joy in revealing their engagement.

Jane sipped on the glass of wine that she held in her left hand, reclining on the couch, binge watching her guilty pleasure tv show, The Bachelor. Her phone vibrated viciously on the couch cushion next to her, her hand flipped it over and her thumb slid effortlessly across the screen before she placed it to her cheek, “Hey baby, I thought you said you’d be working all night and—”

Her voice was cut off by a man’s low, urgent tone that wasn’t her fiancés “Jane, it’s me—”

Tears instantly dripped from her eyes knowing whose voice it was, “No—” she shook her head, causing a tear to spill over her eyelashes. “You’re—it’s not you, you’re—Frank is dead!” Jane closed her eyes and tried to make the man’s voice sound like someone other than Frank Castle.

“Jane, it’s me—Meet me under the bridge—you know which one; 25 mins.” The phone went silent.

Jane’s knees wobbled as she got up from the couch, the residual sound of a dead line ringing in her ears, mixing with the punisher’s voice. Her brain swirled around the call as she sobbed, making her knees buckle. She brought her hands up to stabilize herself and then the anger doubled through her body as she threw her phone, shattering it on the wall right next to a picture of her, Curtis, Billy and Frank on their last mission together.

She stared with tear-filled eyes down at the shattered shards that lay along the floor of the apartment. The back of her hand stifled her sobbing as she brought it to her face, “I—I have to know.” She whispered, grabbing her coat and keys, her large diamond on her left hand glistening in the light of the large apartment and she got into the elevator.

___

Frank hid in a dark shadowed area near the bridge, his hood up as his eyes remained low as he surveyed the scene for her. “Where are you, Runner? Come on. I know you’re comin’ just where are you?” He whispered internally to himself.

“F-Frank?” Her shaky voice cut through the silence, her hot breath erupting a small cloud into the night air. Her jaw tightened with anticipation and her chest felt like her heart was going to beat out of her chest.

“You came?” He questioned deeply and turned around slowly, this hood still shielding his face.

“You knew I would.” She responded to him with tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. He scoffed and nodded his head at her. “I need to see your face—” she said gritting her teeth in a poor attempt in containing her emotions. “Damn it, I need to know!” She raised her voice a little.

The man raised his hands slowly in a silent effort to calm her. He slowly tucked his hands into the hood and threw it back to expose his identity, confirming that it was indeed the deadman, Frank Castle. “Jane—”

“You son-of-a-bitch!” She cried the tears falling continuously, her fists balled and she jabbed at his body.

His hands never left his sides. He took every punch, knowing that he deserved it; for all of the pain that he had caused her over the past years.

“How could you! Fucking asshole!” She continued, her blows becoming sloppy and her knees becoming weaker and weaker with every hit. “I fucking loved you—how could you? How could you do that to me?”

His hands grabbed her wrists as he shushed her, “Jane.” His heart hit down into his stomach at her last words she cried to him. His arms wrapped around her body that was now leaning on his broad chest as she cried. He sank down onto his knees and held her while she cried. “I’m so sorry.” He began, “I’m so fuckin’ sorry for what I did to you—an’ I’m the biggest fuckin’ asshole in the world for doin’ that to you—I won’t ever forgive myself for what I’ve done.”

After Jane had cried herself nearly dry and Frank held her and she calmed down, he helped her back to her feet. “I thought you were dead, asshole!” She gritted her teeth and glared up at him through her running mascara.

“I know.” He regressed and stared at his feet. “I’m not askin’ for your forgiveness Jane, I just wanna talk.”

Jane scoffed heavily, “You—you just wanna talk after I blamed myself every fucking day for what happened to your family and for what happened to you?!” She pointed, tears welling once more in her eyes. “Yeah, Frank—let’s fucking talk!”

Frank began, “I should have never done—wait, why would you blame yourself for—”

“How could I not, Frank. I loved you and I couldn’t have you—when we came home and you kissed me I, I,” she paused at a loss for words, “I couldn’t stop thinking about it—when they died I thought it was because of me.” She admitted, “You weren’t able to protect them because of me.” She clarified.

“So you know that I didn’t kill my family?” He gazed up at her through his thick eyelashes.

“Come on Frank, you loved Maria and the kids—” Jane reciprocated the look as she picked at her jacket hem. “Then when they said you were dead; I should have been there for you when that happened, a better friend or—”

“None of what happened was your fault, Jane. None of it, you hear me?” He said stepping close to her and touching her arm, “What happened was because of me; that’s why I didn’t tell you I was alive, I was doing that to protect you.”

She pulled her arm away from his touch and stared back at him with painful eyes. Frank nodded and took a step back and respected her boundaries, his brown eyes catching the light glistening off of her left ring finger. He motioned to it, “So, uh you and Billy are getting married?” His tone tinged with pain, “Congrats.” He said turning and resting his arms on the railing by the water.

She sniffled and took the same position beside him, finally controlling the emotions she was feeling. “Yeah, we’re happy together— he was there.” Her words hitting him hard inside his chest. There was a profound moment of silence between the both of you as you adjusted to the new reality that he never died…the tension still evident but subsiding after the initial confirmation of his identity.

After a half an hour Frank sucked in a deep breath, “I’ve been keeping an eye on you just to make sure you’re safe.” He tilted his head to the side and looked towards her as she stared at the skyscrapers of the city.

Jane says, “I know. I saw you and then you disappeared again, I thought I was losing my fucking mind, Castle.”

“I’m sorry, Jane, for everything…really.” He paused, “An’ you owe me nothing, especially after what I’ve done,” Frank then said, “But, I need your help.” He looked at her with his back eye, “Look; what I’m doing, it’s stupid and dangerous—sometimes I need patched up—”

She said without any hesitation, “Whenever.” She looked him deeply in the eyes, “You need me and I’m there; whatever it is, I’m in.” Her eyes connected with his, his eyebrows raised at the firm agreement that she just made. “I’m still fucking pissed off at you; so don’t think that I’m not, Frank.” She warned, making him half smile back at her. “I’m just glad to know that I wasn’t going crazy.” Her voice trailed as she pulled him into her body and hugged him tightly.

“Billy doesn’t know that I’m alive…and he can’t know, Jane.” she could feel the vibrations of his chest as he spoke. She released his body from her embrace and looked back at him with uncertainty.

Jane nodded slowly, “Okay,” she paused, suppressing the emotions that came along with the agreement to help a deadman; the punisher and lie to her fiancé about it all. “I fucking knew your sorry ass was alive.” she sniffled and laughed.

Frank cracked a smile on his bruised, stone-like face; his hot breath emitting small clouds into the cold New York night, “Yeah, no chick-flick moments; I remember… what I love about you, Jane.” His smile fades after he heard himself say the word ‘love’ for the first time in a long time, “I’ll stay in touch, Runner.” He said, his hand remaining on her elbow for an extra second.

___

Jane walked out of the elevator into the living room, kicking her shoes off and setting her keys down on the table. She began to untie her jacket but jumped at the sound of Billy’s voice, “Where were you?” He questioned her as he flicked on a light.

She slumped her shoulders to allow her black wool jacket to slip from her body before she tossed it on the couch. “Out on a run.” she answered him quickly walking into the kitchen to grab a water bottle to try and ‘sell’ your lie…

“Really?” He said skeptically, crossing his arms and leaning on the edge of the countertop. “You’ve never went out on a run in a jacket before, Jane.” He lowered his jaw to her, silently asking for the truth.

“I saw Frank.” She admitted.

“Come here,” he whispered and closed his eyes, guiding her to his body as he hugged her tightly. He remained silent for a minute as Jane reciprocated the embrace and melted into him. He kissed the top of her head and then rested his chin on the top of her head, “He’s gone, Jane.”

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