#this was brought on by an inside joke with us and our partner system that ended in our pinkiepie fictive FUCKING

[sscarred-starss]

hey can we make AMpie a thing

AM (i have no mouth and I must scream) x Pinkiepie (My little pony)

romantic (pref), platonic, doesnt matter. she licks his screen

[triptychgardener]

Alright, you wanted it, you asked for it, here we go.

THE FULL GUIDE TO LEPRECHAUN ROMANCE

Created in collaboration with @a-very-stuck-doggirl, with additional assistance from @gendertrickster and @clamitoustemptation

If you want the FULL, EYEBURSTING EXPERIENCE of reading this beautiful, beautiful explainer, you can find the full document here. And furthermore, we will be expanding (and taking liberties with) the canon explanation of Leprechaun romance and the charms system, a brief explainer of which can be found on the wiki here.

And finally, we will not be explaining how Leprechaun reproduction works, only how the cultural systems of romance work. You bunch of perverts.

And with that...

Let us begin.

When broaching the subject of leprechaun romance, our feeble human minds immediately assume the most ingratiating posture of glee imaginable. What whimsy, what mystery, what the fuck! Here, we will do our best to unravel all the different nine charms of LEPRECHAUN ROMANCE, in order to construct a romantic system that ADEQUATELY INCLUDES THE ROMANTIC OPTIONS OF ONE WEIRD CLOWN GIRL. So without further Ado, or with it if she decides to join us…

Let’s get this shit fuckin storted

but furst…(fred durst)

A brief explainer.

A JAPE is another form of courtship, this time taking the form of Sick Prankz. Anything you can use to get an edge, to get a brief Jortle out of them, or simply yourself, counts as a Jape.

A JIG is the type of courtship dance you perform, either when romancing an attractive and silly person, or simply to reaffirm the feelings of your relationship. When in doubt, Jig it out.

A WHIMSY is a feeling, a scene, or something else exemplifying the pure Vibes of the romance. A few examples are given, but a Whimsy is not such a thing to be tied down. After all, the charms are made to be mixed into TROVES, with three being the bare minimum for a proper trove.

CHARM 1: 💗 (Heart)

The heart is the one charm that actually means romantic love in the sense of human romance and matespritship. It is notably pink, while most other romance systems use a saturated red heart. 

JIG: A quick and lively dance in close proximity to a partner. Maybe even (scandalous!) some bumpin’ and grindin’. Turning this sockhop into a sockless hop if you know what I’m saying.

JAPE: The classic to end all classics. Bucket on the door. (Cultural specific)

WHIMSY: Skipping along carefree, arm in arm, a feeling of warmth inside.

CHARM 2: 🌙 (Moon)

A symbol associated with dreams, mystery, and the night. A common sign that one is in moons with another is seeing them in your dreams, or them seeing you in their dreams.

JIG: A sneaky, tip-toeing, light jig, almost airy, never quite touching each other. Jesus would approve. 

JAPE: Be the monster under the bed, sneaking up on the partner and startling them in a safe but traditionally scary location. (monster in the closet works a-ok if your bed has no underside)

WHIMSY: Sneaking off under the cover of night,  doing a merry canter on your prospective lover’s windowsill, whispered jokes under the covers.

CHARM 3: ⭐ (Star)

The orange star, associated with excellence, achievement, perhaps even a far-flung imagination that goes a bit beyond reality. A common sign you are in stars with another is coming up with wildly ambitious schemes that are nearly certainly doomed to fail. But you try anyways.

JIG: Hand in hand  bouncing up and down. Legs kicked up behind, butterfly kisses.

JAPE: Pantsing someone whilst onstage giving a big presentation, killing the president with a pie-to-the-face necksnap. Anything wildly important that can be brought down with a pratfall.

WHIMSY: A sporadic and spur of the moment journey, often lasting at least an hour, to an unknown or unvisited location. 

CHARM 4: 🍀 (Four-leaf Clover)

The clover is associated with, what else, luck. To be honest, achieving this with someone is nearly impossible to do intentionally. It must be stumbled into on a whim, perhaps literally falling into one’s lap on a chance journey. The clover is a treasured, and often dangerous charm, but those who achieve it are, well, extraordinarily lucky.

Jig: Socks on a smooth polished floor, slip around defying gravity with the sheer will of your connection. If you fall you’ll get back up laughing and slip slide some more.

Jape: Spending all of their savings on scratch-off lotto tickets. You’re either getting laid or getting VERY dumped. 

Whimsy: A night at the casino to win it big, throwing your life to the wind on some daredevil stunt, a meet-cute at the top of a colliding rollercoaster.

Charm 5: 🔷 (Diamond)

The blue diamond is closely related to the troll concept of moirallegiance. The diamond is a stable shape and be it red or blue it represents stability, be it of reaching where you want to be, or a strong foundation to build upon. 

Jig: A simple, steady square dance, perfectly in sync, with a couple shooshpaps thrown in for good measure.

Jape: The surprise of a breakfast in bed, but the food won't stop coming. Be buried under freshly squeezed orange juice and lovingly jellied toast.

Whimsy: A pale session on a plush quilt, the warmth underneath you as you sit on their lap. Being in the car with an incredibly safe driver.

Charm 6: 𝝮 (Horseshoe)

Horseshoes are associated partially with challenge, a game, and irony. A horseshoe is lucky, but it’s simply a marker of the most challenging and ironic situations. Also horses.

Jig: A lively and sardonic canter with a particularly risky somersault down a grassy hill, or a jagged set of concrete steps. 

Jape: Physical non-lasting injury. Bonking someone with a biiiiiiiiig mallet. Big lumps on the head, flattened into an accordion. (WARNING: DO NOT TRY UNLESS SILLY). Performing pranks in ironic proximity to horses. 

Whimsy: Chase through hallway with many doors, coming out completely different ones than the ones entered. Sometimes swapping outfits and gaining other members to your procession. A boxing match where both of you have guns taped to your back.

Charm 7: 🎈 (Balloon)

This charm is primarily associated with freedom, knowing that you have a relationship even when apart, that allows you the independence to experiment. Associated with polyamorous, long distance, and open relationships, flight and travel. 

Jig: A wide and free-flowing twirl, lifting each other up over and over, then separating till only the tips of your fingers remain.

Jape: Showing up unannounced at your long-distance partner’s doorstep and utterly imposing on them. But they love it all the same.

Whimsy: Making out with your roommates while couchsurfing, a wild kiss in a hot-air balloon, the open road flying by.

Charm 8: 🌈 (Rainbow)

The rainbow is adventure, going beyond boundaries. The journey is the relationship, the relationship is the journey. This charm represents growth and change, be it progression or regression, what matters is to be doing it together.

Jig: Running leaps, a jig in motion, something wild and unexpected. The kind you see in a musical where people are jumping on tables and shit.

Jape: Dying your partner’s hair color while they’re asleep. Genderpranking them leading to self-discovery.

Whimsy: Packing bags together, and making sure that together you have what you need, not one carrying it all. 

Charm 9: 🍯 (Pot o’ Gold)

This one’s allllllll about the money. Material goods, gifts, splendor. But it’s not necessarily just about gr33d and gain. It can also be in the little treasures that you hold, your favorite mug, or a timeless autograph from the creators of the Hit Webcomic Outcaste. Wow! So cool.

Jig: Dousing one another in fake or real money, break out the monopoly board we’re getting silly. Confetti works just as well, what needs to be is something falling down around you.

Jape: Buying your partner gag gifts: I’m talking fake snakes stored in cans of peanuts, or actual snakes stored in their plate of spaghetti. Giving them a box that hurls a pie in their face.

Whimsy: Digging for buried treasure, looking for something lost. The chaos in the search is all the more fun.

Leprechaun Romance Research is hard. It's hard, and now, whether you wanted to or not, you understand. But the romantic sciences are not a simple, cut-and-dry thing. We encourage you to seek out your own answers, delve deep into the knowledge stored in the deeper dreambubbles, and maybe, someday, feel the touch of plush, green felt against your very own lips.

[mjae]

Yesterday was someone's birthday

Birthdays happen all the time.

It is also someone's birthday today. Many someones actually.

There's not a day in the calendar that is not someone's birthday. Which is why birthdays on February 29th are really odd.

How many times have I said "birthday" already?

Different people have different thoughts about this particular day.

For some people, it is a day to mark another year that has passed. Which means that they have another year added to their age. In other words, they simply got older. Nothing more.

Women, they say, are very sensitive about age.

They say it's bad form to ask a woman her age.

Personally, I don't mind.

Being older means I've survived another year of life. And, for someone like me who has a very colorful medical history, another year of life sounds brilliant.

It's why I love that quote:

"Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. Today is a gift. That's why they call it present."

For the birthday over here, it was my partner's mom's birthday.

She lives in a different town, about an hour and a half away from here, so off we went!

We were supposed to travel last Friday, but we got delayed because we were waiting for something that might arrive within the day.

It didn't. Unfortunately.

So, we went yesterday.

Thankfully, it was still all good because it was no trouble doing some of the celebrations at night.

We actually ended up staying up until about midnight.

I like it there.

Her place is the epitome of the simple life.

The house is modest but sufficient for her to live in. She practically has no electronics inside. The only things in there that require electricity are light bulbs and a transistor radio.

Her electricity bill is so low, it sounds like a joke all the time.

Although, she is very particular about that bill. We were joking that her bill for this month would increase tenfold because of our extended use of the lights and the sound system that the neighbors brought over.

She joked back and seemed OK with it. Of course, the bill for the month is yet to be seen, so...

The house also has a wide yard area. Unlike most yards, for example, ours, hers is not wasted.

There's all sorts of vegetables, fruit trees, root crops, and other stuff all around the place.

There's even coffee!

Not coffee in bags or something like that. Real, actual, coffee trees. (Or bushes, or whatever they're called.)

Of course, with all that are the sounds of nature. Cicadas, frogs, whatever them creatures that make noise at night.

If it was cars and trucks being so loud, it would have been massively annoying. Them creatures were a fun listen.

It's fascinating!

If my work didn't depend on solid Internet connectivity, I would have wanted to stay longer.

Unfortunately, we had to leave early.

I know it's a Sunday, but circumstances at work required me to report today.

So, bye-bye farm life, hello again digital life~

[lumifuer]

Unwind

Pairings: David 8  x Reader

Words: 814 Warnings: Cringey A/N’s: I actually can’t believe that I’m finally posting this. I was trying to get myself to get back to writing for so long and one day I randomly stumbled upon a story with the game of spin the bottle. I thought of it as a bit too much for my own stories, especially with David but then stalked @thefasstasticvoyage​ blog and found out that she actually prefered stories with him that weren’t based in space decided that maybe it should be more light-hearted instead. So here it is. 

Summary: Can a high school game help David discover the true nature of the sensation spreading across his non-human body?

"All I'm asking of you is to blend in, David. We need to ease them into your presence."

As usual, I decided to go with mister Weyland's wish without much of an unnecessary arguing. The mission was getting inevitably closer with each passing day, but the crew still seemed rather wary of me. As long as I was observing them from afar, everything was going smoothly. They were chatting, bonding over the most irrelevant things and experiences. And then, as soon as I'd stepped into the room, it fell silent. Their muscles would tense, their gaze would avert and focus on a random point or a thing. The knowing looks did not slip by me, even if I tried my best to pretend that they did. Soon after, the informal meetings would disband, leaving me behind without as much as one word.

There was only one exception to this practice. One person whose opinion was not dependant based on my humanity - or lack thereof. The young doctor with impressive expertise in the field would not let prejudice cloud her curiosity. She approached me after her crewmates left and greeted me with sincere kindness. Ever since this small event, she made sure to try and welcome me into their group. Naturally, it was met with small-minded jokes and remarks, but she did not seem to be bothered by them. And I truly appreciated all of her efforts.

One day, only mere weeks before the official date of the inauguration of our mission, the whole group decided to organize a meeting to decompress. Mainly with the use of alcoholic beverages. I knew it could have been one of my chances to earn their trust or, at the very least, tolerance, so I arrived in the lounge room with everyone else. The captain greeted me, possibly influenced by doctor (y/n) or even Weyland's wish, and the gathering started.

I tried to stay by (y/n)'s side, listening to their conversations and laughter, trying to create an image of the entire crew. The alcohol made it easier for them to behave naturally in my presence. Or maybe they simply decided to ignore me altogether. All I knew was that it must have affected their upcoming ideas.

"You're joking, Janek," (y/n)'s voice was both delighted and condescending. "How old are we again?"

"That's what I'm saying! We were supposed to unwind and forget about the importance of this whole thing, right?" he argued.

"By playing an edgy high school game? Thanks, cap," Holloway did not seem so sure about the genius of his captain's plans. He took another sip of his drink and shot a glance to his partner, doctor Elizabeth.

"This is insubordination, right (y/n)?" captain's eyes drifted to the side, pleading for the young woman to support him. But she was clearly uncomfortable, fiddling with a glass in her hand.

"I don't know -  I don't feel like playing spin the bottle--"

Janek threw his arms into the air with a frustrated look on his face. "What's up with you people! That's the crew I'm going to be stuck in space with?"

The last sentence earned him a chuckle from a few of the fellow members.

"If you allow me to interfere," I began and everyone looked at me, possibly suddenly recognizing my presence, "what is the purpose of this game?"

They glanced at each other with a mixture of confusion and amusement, but nobody seemed too eager to answer my question.

"Well, kids play this game to get a chance at kissing their high school crush," Holloway was visibly annoyed by my lack of knowledge. "Thought we were past that."

"Kissing?" I raised my brow at the new information. Something changed in the air. It became heavy and uncomfortable, almost forcing me to abandon the situation. A weird sensation flooded my chest area as if someone pressed a scorched metal to the inside of my body. I dropped my gaze to the floor, trying to come up with a solution to this newfound feeling.

Feeling. I was programmed to experience them in a way that humans do. It took my creators years to perfect my version of a nervous system. And now I was struggling with the meaning of it all. I knew they were still continuing the conversation, but the sound of their voices seemed distant and completely unimportant. I lost myself inside my own mind, trying to find an answer.

"David, are you alright?" (y/n)'s voice brought me back into the reality of the current situation. I slowly looked at her face and the sudden revelation fell upon me. The warmth that spread across my body stemmed from all of the kindness I have experienced so far thanks to her. Jealousy. Such a fragile and shallow emotion. Providing humans with the reason to argue, fight and destroy. And now, I was feeling it too.

Thank you so much for reading! ♥ As always, likes, reblogs but especially comments are welcome and truly appreciated!

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I’d like to dedicate this story to the kind and understanding @thefasstasticvoyage - a master in the craft of writing and an amzing human being! Thank you for the messages and support! 

[alitaimagines]

“isn’t it lovely? all alone. heart made of glass, my mind of stone. tear me pieces, skin and bones, hello, welcome home.”  

tamaki amajiki ☆  MY HERO ACADEMIA 

“hey Ami!” you screamed to your classmate, “have you seen Amajiki at all? he forgot his uniform jacket in my dorm last night and I don’t want him to get in trouble for not having it on.”

she remained silent before snapping her fingers, “I think the hero department third years have that simulation training today! they’re not even going to be in the classroom,” Ami explained as you nodded, “right, I forgot that was today. well, I guess I have no reason not to wear it,” you joked before slipping on your boyfriends jacket. 

you were in your second year at U.A. and being that Tamaki was a year older than you, you weren’t really informed on what your upperclassman had on their schedules. 

Tamaki and you had met at Fatgum’s agency on his second year internship and your first. you attended U.A. for their business department and managed to get interned with Fatgum’s business partner. 

how the two of you got together was still a question for many people, including Mirio, Fatgum, and Nejire. 

they all knew that the two of you met at the agency but neither three of them ever figured out who asked who and when it actually happened. all they knew is that one day, you were holding and swinging Tamaki’s hand down the hall as he had a blush written all over his face. 

“do you know how long that was going to take? I know Amajiki was pretty nervous for it,” you told Ami as the two of you went to grab a quick breakfast snack, “he was over my dorm almost having a nervous break down last night,” you said a bit sadly. 

she shook her head no, “no, I don’t. I know those simulations they give are pretty rough and it’s not like it’s even an assigned simulation, they just give them random events,” she explained. 

you sighed knowing your very nervous boyfriend was probably panicking in the simulation room. like Ami had said, you did hear that those simulation events they gave the third years were pretty rough on the soon to be pro-heroes but being that you weren’t even in the hero department, you would never know how those would go. 

“I just hope they don’t give Amajiki something that’ll trigger his panic attacks,” you admitted, “he doesn’t deserve to go through that today,” you mentioned as Ami rubbed your back, “I’m sure he’ll be okay, don’t stress about it,” she consoled you as you tried to keep your head off of what Tamaki was doing. 

what you had hoped for was not what you got granted.

as the third years arrived to the simulation room, they were immediately situated in their seats to start their simulation training. Tamaki was thankfully in between Nejire and Mirio for the training but anyone could tell that he was ready to shove himself in a corner for the next six hours. 

“it’ll be fine, don’t worry!” Nejire told Tamaki in an enthusiastic tone, “I’m pretty sure all the rumors surrounding these stupid simulation training are just word of mouth and they’re not as bad as we think they are,” Mirio added on. 

you had texted both Nejire and Mirio to watch out for Tamaki. they knew that he was nervous but it was a rarity when you texted them. it wasn’t that they didn’t like you but because Tamaki was a bit nervous to bring you around them and you weren’t even in their year, the three of you hardly interacted. 

they put the VR style glasses on as they heard the countdown from the proctor. as soon as they heard the system let out a robotic ‘go’, the simulation had started. 

Tamaki was instantly brought into what seemed like a regular day of patrol with Fatgum and Red Riot. he could feel himself instantly sighing in relief as the three of them were walking around, patrolling the street. 

they were around the Fatgum agency when they felt a rumble on the ground. after the rumble, a loud scream teared through the air as a villain was running towards civilians and killing them instantly. 

“Red Riot, get the back, Sun Eater, you have the front,” Fatgum immediately instructed before running towards the side of the building that the villain was aiming for, “remember the protocols!” he reminded them before leaving them to do their job. 

Tamaki instantly ran the front of the building and released his quirk to start helping civilians get to safety. when he started putting a few civilians in a safe and closed off area, his brain snapped. 

you were in that building. 

Tamaki tried to run inside of the building but as soon as he tried to find you, the villain had snatched up a few employee’s and held them in his hand.

you were struggled under the weight of the villains hand when Tamaki heard your loud scream. while any other time he would’ve been a little nervous to try and save those who were being held hostage, his GIRLFRIEND was in danger and he couldn’t even fathom the thought of something happening to you. 

“RED RIOT!” you screamed to the red haired boy as Kirishima’s eyes widened realizing it was you, “TAMAKI, PLEASE!” you yelled through sobs and hiccups. 

Kirishima tried to get to you when they heard the villain let out a violent scream and smack those who he was holding against a building before punching the building down to a dusty mess. 

Tamaki felt himself stand still as he heard the first responders started close in on the scene. as he heard Fatgum tell him to go check on those who were thrown against the building, the villain grabbed them and threw them up against another building before making it collapse. 

“Tamaki, please,” you whispered as you tried to catch anyone’s attention and not fully realizing that you were using your pro hero boyfriends real name, “oh god,” you exasperated as you felt your eyes start to become heavy. 

you wondered how you were still alive but you gained a small bit of energy when you saw Tamaki approaching you with tears in his eyes. your eyes were half open as you started to accept your fate.

you were going to die. 

“Tamaki, win this for me,” you whispered as he grabbed your hand, “don’t,” he said as he watched your eyes close and your head start to dangle, “DON’T DIE ON ME! NOT NOW!” he screamed making your body jump slightly. 

hearing Tamaki scream was a rarity as you tightened your grip as much as you could, “stop,” you whispered, “this isn’t the end for us. I promise I’ll see you one day,” with that your head fell to the side as your body started to slump to the same side.

Tamaki let out a piercing yell as he grabbed you and cradled you like an infant. tears were streaming down his face as he stared at the collapsed building in horror. 

after the civilians were safe, the hostages that managed to stay alive were taken to the paramedics, and the villain was taken down, Kirishima and Fatgum made their way to the blue haired boy. 

“oh my God,” Kirishima mumbled as he saw Tamaki holding your body, clearly realizing that you were dead, “Tamaki,” Fatgum said as he tried to grab your body to take to the paramedic team, “you need to let her go,” he whispered.

as soon as Tamaki heard those words being mumbled, he whipped his head to his mentor, “NO!” he screamed making both of them jump back and making Tamaki hold you even closer. 

Fatgum sighed as before calling the paramedics over to them, “if you don’t want to let her go, you don’t have too but she needs to seek assistance,” Fatgum stated before Tamaki heard a ringing going off in his ears. 

all the third years took off their headsets as Tamaki remained with his on.

“Amajiki! you can take it off now!” he heard Nejire say as Mirio whipped the headset off, “Tamaki?” he asked a bit panicked.

not even realizing, Tamaki was looking at the whiteboard with tears streaming down his face. Mirio’s and Nejire’s eyes widened as they noticed their best friend crying. 

“hey, hey! what happened?” Mirio asked as all the students started to leave the simulation room, “Amajiki, it’s okay! none of it was real,” Nejire tried to rationalize, “it was all a simulation.”

Tamaki finally looked at the two of them, “I watched ( your name ) die,” he mumbled, “she got murdered by a villain and I couldn’t save her. she died in my arms,” he continued before looking back at the blank white wall.

Nejire whipped her phone out and texted to see if you were still in class or not. Mirio on the other hand tried to get Tamaki to relax and bring him down from his panic attack. 

“she’s in the common area,” Nejire whispered to Mirio, “hey Amajiki, ( your name ) is in her residency's common room, want to go see her?” Mirio asked cautiously as he watched Tamaki get up from his seat. 

“hey ( your name )! it’s Nejire! where are you right now? Tamaki wants to see you. it’s kind of important!” 

“I’m in my residency building, you guys can head over here if you’d like! why, did something happen to him?” 

the top three students walked slowly to your residency building as Tamaki tried to calm himself down before seeing you. he knew how much you worried over him and he didn’t want to see you so terrified over him, especially not now. 

after they got scanned into the residency building, they saw you at one of the tables with your laptop open and singing along to the music you had blasting into your headphones. 

you noticed Tamaki walking inside with a blank look on his face. you immediately whipped off your headphones and walked towards your upperclassmen. 

“hey, how did the simulation training go?” you asked Mirio as they gave you a saddened look, “ours went fine however I don’t think it’s our place to say anything about Amajiki’s,” Mirio explained as Tamaki put his head in between the crook of your shoulder and neck. 

you whispered a thank you to Nejire and Mirio as they gave you a smile before leaving. you grabbed your laptop and ushered Tamaki towards the elevators before heading up to the level where your room was at. 

once you and Tamaki got inside, you shut the door and Tamaki immediately wrapped his arms around you as he started sobbing onto your shoulder. you stared to panic as you tried to get Tamaki to breath. 

“hey, Amajiki, what’s wrong, what happened?” you asked as you grabbed Tamaki by the face and held him in your hands, “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me,” you said. 

he hiccuped before trying to look at you, “my simulation was trying to save civilians from a villain but the building he attacked was Fatgum’s agency. I watched you die in my arms,” he vaguely explained as he tried to refrain from full details. 

your eyes widened as you held him for a tight embrace. the two of you stayed that way for what felt like hours as Tamaki tried to calm himself down once more. once Tamaki fully came around and stopped crying, you held his face in your hands again as you tried to wipe away the last few tears. 

“Amajiki, I’m right here. I’m alive. I’m not going anywhere,” you told him as he nodded, “that’s never going to happen and you’re going to make sure that it doesn’t happen. you, Fatgum, and Kirishima are not going to let me or anyone die. I’ll be by your side for as long as you want me to be.” 

Tamaki nodded but didn’t say anything. you gave him a passionate kiss and ran your fingers through his hair, just the way he liked it. 

“do you want me to walk you back to your dorm so you can have a few moments to yourself?” you asked as Tamaki shook his head no very quickly, “c-can I stay h-here for a w-while to cuddle?” he murmured as you nodded. 

this had been the first time you heard him stutter as he spoke.

Tamaki liked to be the big spoon between the two of you but this time you shoved everything that was on your bed onto the floor before laying him down on your chest and running your fingers through his hair until he fell asleep. 

as soon as you realized that he passed out, you gave the top of his head a kiss before laying him down on your bed and covering him with a blanket. your room tended to be a bit cold sometimes. 

“I’m not going anywhere Amajiki, I promise,” you whispered into his ear, “I love you way too much and I know you’d do anything to keep me safe.”

you got up and dusted off your skirt before giving your boyfriend one last look. you knew he would napping for a few hours so you figured you’d make his favorite food during the time he was asleep.

Tamaki loved your cooking and you knew that with the way he was feeling, your food could be a bit of a pick me up for when he got up. 

ALITA

[mcwriting]

call me, beep me

In which I wrote a Kim Possible AU :)

Ship: Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 3865 

Warnings: literally none lol it’s all fun and fluff

#

“Toooom!” you exclaimed in a loud cry. He had clumsily knocked over part of your science fair project, a diorama of the solar system. His misstep caused Pluto to pop off the wire and dented Neptune a little.

“Oh my gosh, y/n, I’m so sorry, let me get that-” he started to reach down and grab the littlest planet at the same time as you, causing both of your heads to bump together.

You each jumped back again, exclaiming “ow!” and rubbing your temples simultaneously.

Things had been off between you and your childhood best friend lately. 

You’d been attached at the hip since preschool, and though you had your ups and downs, had always stayed friends. You were partners in (fighting) crime, but now it was like you were out of sync and couldn’t figure out why. 

“It’s okay, Tom. Seriously. I can fix it myself. You need to work on your project anyways, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. If it makes you feel any better, most people don’t even consider Pluto a planet anymore, so I kinda did you a favor.”

“You take that back! Pluto is so a planet!”

As you both laughed it off, a familiar four-toned beep came from your pocket.

“What’s the sitch, Jacob?” you asked into the phone, where your friend could be seen sitting at his computer.

“Hey, y/n. I was checking out Dr. Gyllenhaal’s purchase history lately, and well... tell me if this sounds fishy: 200 pounds of cherry flavored jello mix. That might not sound too bad except that he’s at the villain convention and just snatched the last 30 liters of mind-control juice. The first person you look at after ingesting some can control what you do unless you can reverse it. Oh, and he invited you and everyone else in town to a cookout at the park tomorrow.”

“Well, definitely doesn’t sound like any regular cookout. I’ll check things out. Give me location on the convention and we’ll head over,” you responded, annoyed that you needed to take a pause on your project that was due the next morning.

“I’m gonna ask him why he chose cherry. I mean, really. All the flavors in the world and you pick cherry!?” Tom said incredulously. You rolled your eyes in amusement and grabbed his arm.

“Come on, jello boy. Let’s go.”

#

The year’s convention was the place to be.

The villain counsel had gotten together and gotten a spot at the biggest venue in Rio, and everyone had been able to share conquests and victories along the beach.

Which is where Dr. Gyllenhaal was happily sipping on his frozen drink in the sun as his henchwoman, Daisy, lounged nearby.

“So you really think jello is the way to go, huh? Not a mixer at the club? It’d be a lot more fun that way,” she trailed.

“Y/n y/l/n and that... that... buffoon of hers are in high school. They cannot go to clubs. But jello! I mean who doesn’t love jello!?”

“Well... me for one. And cherry, really? Cherry? Couldn’t have at least gone for strawberry?”

“Cherry is the best flavor and you know it! Now let me enjoy my drink in peace before we head back to the lair.”

“Better sip quickly. I think that’s her and her little friend on the parasail that just disconnected from the boat,” Daisy said nonchalantly, sunglasses pulled down to see you gliding towards the beach.

“WHAT!?”

He threw the drink aside and sat up quickly.

You and your parachute were floating down gracefully as Tom was struggling. His naked mole rat, Tessa, was desperately trying to detangle him but to no avail, so he decided to bail, dropping into the ocean with a large splash. 

You couldn’t help but shake your head as you detached and landed on the beach, doing a somersault to break your fall. 

“Miss y/l/n, nice of you to arrive,” Dr. Gyllenhaal sneered as you stood. You were about to answer when Tom was clumsily thrown onto the sand by the crashing tide. 

“And you brought your little boyfriend, too.”

You looked down in surprise at Tom, who gave you the same deer-in-the-headlights look.

“We’re not- I mean he isn’t-”

“Y/n and I would never- What are you-” 

You both stammered. 

“Oh how cute. They’re blushing.” Daisy teased. “Now, time to kick your butt.”

With that you ensued in typical hand-to-hand combat along the beach, using your tumbling skills to narrowly avoid Daisy’s glowing fists along with other beach obstacles. 

“Where’s the juice!? I know you have it!” you exclaimed between handsprings.

“Isn’t that a funny question. You know I have some right here but-” Gyllenhaal pulled out a flask with the liquid to gloat, but tripped, the lid popping off and liquid beginning to splash out. “Oops!”

It was heading towards both you and Tom, so you turned to say, “Don’t let it get in your mouth!”

Some splashed onto yours and Tom’s faces. He cringed and ran towards the ocean.

“Tom what are you-” you couldn’t finish the thought, because as you were watching, a drop fell from your lips onto your tongue.

Suddenly, you felt inclined to do whatever Tom said. He was washing his face off with the salt water when you turned back around to look at your nemesis.

"Ooh let’s see if this works. Okay y/n. Tell me I’m pretty,” Gyllenhaal said, looking at you expectantly. You furrowed your brows. 

“Hmm. Maybe it needs to be an action. Y/n, go get me another piña colada.”

“What do you think I am, your slave?” you retorted sarcastically. His jaw dropped. 

“But I- I bought so much... WHY ISN’T IT WORKING?” he cried out.

Tom appeared next to you again.

“Hey y/n could you tell me if my hair’s messed up?”

You looked at him and without a thought answered.

“Oh yeah it’s parted weird. Lemme fix that.” You reached out and flopped a strand over. 

Dr. Gyllenhaal had a startling revelation.

“Oh no. Oh my gosh. YOU.YOU BUMBLING IDIOT. You’re the one who has the power to control y/n now? Oh dear. Daisy, we need to go at once!”

With that they sped off on a scooter, getting away once again. 

“What was he talking about? Oh hey, my shoe’s untied. Could you get that?” he asked. Usually it was a joke between you that you’d never tie his shoes, but immediately you were knelt down double knotting his laces.

You stood up, confused at what had overcome you, but quickly realization washed over your face.

“You...” you whispered. “I drank the juice, and now you get to control me until we can figure out a remedy...”

“What? No way, y/n. That’s crazy talk. If I had the power to control you, I’d tell you to eat an avocado and you’d actually do it.”

Ugh. Avocados.

One of your least favorite foods. They disgusted you, but without second thought you ran to find one, ravenously peeling off the skin with your bare hands and eating the soft fruit inside.

Tom looked at you in shock and horror.

“OH MY GOSH I”M CONTROLLING YOUR MIND!” he exclaimed, hands thrown upward onto his head. He started pacing and muttering to himself nervously.

You quickly finished the avocado, tossing the skin and pit aside. You wiped your mouth and immediately you were disgusted with yourself, the taste still lingering in your mouth.

“Ugh. That’s what I was trying to tell you!”

“Well call Jacob and figure out how to undo it!”

Immediately you pulled out your phone and rang him up, explaining the situation.

“... and it would really be nice if Tom could get me some water,” you muttered after telling Jacob what had happened.

“Why don’t you get it yourself?” Tom asked, prompting you to run to the nearest snack shack and grab yourself a water. You drank it in annoyance as Tom looked at you sheepishly.

“Well... here’s the problem... so far there’s no known antidote, y/n. Sorry. I’ll see if I can figure it out though,” Jacob explained. You groaned.

“Yeah, okay. Keep me in the loop. And while I’ve got you, could you send us a ride home?” 

“Sure thing, y/n. I’ll be in touch,” Jacob added, screen going black as he ended the call.

“Welp, y/n. This is going to be fun, right?” Tom asked enthusiastically.

“Sure. Fun.”

#

You were quickly putting together Tom’s baking soda volcano as he lounged nearby on your bed. He’d used his new power to get you to finish his project for him.

“As soon as we figure out the cure, I’m so gonna pummel you,” you said as you painted red drips around the rim and sides.

“Maybe it’s best that we don’t find that cure...” Tom started, until you shot him a glare. “Kidding! Kidding. Seriously though, y/n, I’ll repay you for doing this. It’s just, we all know you’re the smart one in this pairing.”

You perked up and looked at him funny as you continued to work.

“Pairing?”

“Well, yeah sure. I mean I couldn’t say couple, and well... I couldn’t think of a better word. Friendship doesn’t sound right either.”

You turned around, cheeks warm.

“What do you mean by that?” you asked quietly.

“We’re more than just friends, y/n. Everyone knows that. We’ve been at each other’s sides for forever. I just feel like only calling us friends doesn’t really encapsulate our relationship.”

“Oh... yeah. I see,” you said, a couple nervous chuckles leaving your breath as you moved on from painting lava to gluing fake trees around the volcano.

“What do you see it as, y/n?”

You felt the urgency to answer truthfully but wasn’t really sure how to. Like you’d said before, it was complicated.

“Well I... I don’t know. You’re my best friend, Tom. I’m not really sure what else to say.”

Tom looked down at Tessa, who was asleep in his hand. 

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, of course. I mean, that’s probably how anyone else would describe it...” he trailed. You felt yourself deflate in the same way Tom did, but you’d been honest.

You kind of had to be, after all. 

After a few minutes of rare silence between you two, Tom spoke up again.

“Hey y/n? You don’t have to keep working on that. It looks incredible as it is and I owe you a million for it.” You stopped what you were doing and leaned away from the project. 

“You know, I think I’m gonna head home. Tessa’s pretty much konked out and I’m pretty exhausted, too. It’s probably best that you finish up your work and hit the hay after I leave.”

You knew his statement wasn’t supposed to be a command, but now you’d be doing just that as soon as he was out the door.

He got up to leave, stuffing the sleepy mole rat into his pocket where she often hid and you stood from your place on the floor. 

“I’ll get all this stuff in the morning when I come to pick you up, okay?” Tom said. You nodded, a slight, lopsided grin on your lips.

You both stood awkwardly for a second before you leaned in, giving him a hug like you often did when parting ways. His arms engulfed you.

“Good night, y/n.”

“Night, Tom.”

With that you parted and he was out the door. As soon as you heard the front door shut, you were back to fixing your solar system.

#

As you got ready in the morning, thoughts about the prior night came bubbling up.

You hadn’t really had much thought about it before, because you’d been “ordered” to do your school project and go to bed, not leaving much time for reflection.

Are we just best friends? Are we not? I mean we aren’t a couple but we’ve got more going on than the average best friend, right? Am I just saying this because we fight crime unlike everyone else? Do I like-

You were snapped out of your thoughts when your  younger twin brothers called up, signaling that Tom was at the door. A few moments later he appeared at your bedroom.

“Mornin’ y/n,” he said, chipper as ever. It seemed that he was going to put the previous night’s events behind him. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah, just a second. I forgot to take your project to my car before you got here.”

“Oh I can get mine,” Tom offered, stuffing a tri-fold under his arm and picking up the volcano with his hands.

“You- you’re not gonna make me do it?” you asked.

“What? Nah. I’m actively trying to not mind control you today. I feel bad about doing it.” 

“It’s going to happen eventually, you know. But come on. I don’t want to be late to the science fair.”

#

Yours and Tom’s displays were next to each other in the gym and for the most part, everything was going well. 

He’d slipped up a couple of times in the mind control department, but they were simple questions, so no one really picked up on it.

As you were preparing for the fair to start, you rolled your eyes as your co-caption on the cheer squad (and high school enemy) Zendaya walked up.

“Oh my gosh, y/n. What’s this? A solar system? That’s it?”

“I mean my dad’s a rocket scientist. And did you forget the fact that I’ve been to space? Maybe if you read my poster you’d understand that my project is about more than just some floating space balls.”

“Ugh. Whatever. Mine’s gonna win either way,” she bragged, earning another eye roll.

“Yeah we’ll see about that,” you grumbled. 

She flicked her hair and turned on her heel, headed back to her area. You huffed at her annoying arrogance.

“Don’t worry about it, y/n. You’ve got this,” Tom encouraged. Suddenly all tension left you.

Maybe this mind control stuff isn’t always bad. At least not when you’ve got the best kind of cheerleader by your side.

You looked at Tom with a soft smile. He was paying attention to Tessa, so he couldn’t see the way you were studying him. 

Over the years, you’d seen more of Tom than practically anyone else had, but yet you still found yourself trying to memorize every little mark and freckle on his face. You analyzed each curl of his hair. The way his lashes fluttered when he blinked.

You snapped out of it when he looked back up at you.

“You okay, y/n?” he asked.

“What? Oh, yeah. Just got distracted for a second. That’s all.”

Before he could press you further, your phone beeped. 

“Hey Jacob. Any updates?” 

“Well... I have an update, but it’s not necessarily the best news. There aren’t any known antidotes for the juice yet. I even emailed the seller under a fake name and he couldn’t give me a good answer. I got my hands on a little and will send some to the lab. Hang tight. Oh, and good luck with your project.”

You said some parting words and hung up.

“Well great. We’re no closer to solving this and we have to figure out a way to get everyone in town to not eat the stupid jello unless we can find a cure. This is shaping up to be just the best.”

“Hey. It’s okay. Just focus on presenting your project for now and beating Zendaya, okay? You can definitely do that.”

And once again, you felt yourself succumb to his words as the judging began.

#

“See. I told you you could do it,” Tom said excitedly as you carried a large trophy home.

“I had a feeling I would anyways, but I was kind of under order to win, so there was no way I’d take anything less than first.”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s my girl,” Tom said offhandedly, taking a second to realize the implications of what he may have said. “And- and by my girl I don’t mean my girl I mean you’re just my best... um.. you know...”

“Tom. It’s okay. I get it. We don’t need to start this again right now. Now we need to focus on stopping Gyllenhaal and finding a cure. Plus, I need to change into a cute outfit for the cookout.”

# 

Hours of brainstorming and you were still no closer to finding a solution, but most of town was now gathered at the park feasting on hot dogs, hamburgers, and all the chips and potato salad they could handle. 

The jello had yet to make an appearance on tables, and there was no sign of Dr. Gyllenhaal or Daisy as you and Tom approached the families chowing down and having fun. 

You couldn’t, however, ignore the large curtained stage on one side of the park.

After hanging out with Tom and some other friends, the curtain suddenly opened, revealing your nemesis on the stage, microphone in hand.

“Good evening, friends. I’m your friendly neighborhood Dr. Gyllenhaal, and tonight I’m going to be your musical entertainment. But first! We want everyone to feast on the finest dessert, so jello for everyone!” he exclaimed.

You stomach dropped.

“Tom we gotta act fast. You help stop people from eating the jello and I’m going to try to get him off stage.”

As you split up, you got another beep on your phone.

“Hurry, Jacob. I don’t have much time.” 

“Okay, okay. I think I just solved your problem. You remember that movie Ella Enchanted?”

“Uh, yeah. I don’t see the correlation.”

“Well remember when at the end, the only way Ella breaks her curse is by talking to herself in the mirror..?”

“Oh my gosh you’re a genius. If the first person you look at is yourself, then you’re still in control! Anyway you can hook us up with some mirrors?”

“Already on it. But first, you need to test it on yourself just to make sure. I think Gyllenhaal has some extra juice hidden behind the stage if you can get your hands on it.”

“On my way. Thanks, Jake. You’re a lifesaver.”

You sprinted towards the stage, now in a different pursuit than before. You darted around the side, looking around to see if there were any bottles you could grab a quick swig from.

“Oh no you don’t,” a voice called from behind you. Daisy.

“Look, I just want some of the juice for myself alright? Nothing else.”

Yet.

“Oh we’ve got a good girl gone bad, huh? I don’t buy that sister.”

She lunged at you and once again you were in typical combat, flipping around and swinging off stage rigs, trying to get to the lone bottle of juice that was resting in the bed of a truck.

After a couple minutes, you were able to outsmart Daisy and grab the bottle. You pulled a compact from your pocket and looked straight into the mirror.

“This better work,” you muttered, tossing back some of the liquid and looking into the eyes of your reflection.

You didn’t feel any different, so you swung up onto the stage and knocked Gyllenhaal over, searching the crowd for Tom as you tried to trap the mad scientist.

“Tom! Tom tell me to do something!” you cried out upon seeing him. He was furiously rushing between tables trying to prevent people from eating the jello.

“What? Like what? I don’t want to ruin the mission!”

“Just say whatever! Hurry!”

“Okay fine! Eat another avocado!”

Dr. Gyllenhaal looked up at you expectantly, but you had no desire to find the green fruit, not even a twinge. Instead, you continued what you were doing before.

Dr. Gyllenhaal, on the other hand, paled. 

“Oh dear,” he whispered nervously, realizing you had found a solution to the problem he had created.

“Daisy get the helicopter! Hurry!” he cried out, slipping from your grip and running away like he always did. 

You let him go to focus on helping anyone who had eaten the jello, those of which Tom was trying to round up so you could help them.

After getting everyone cured, Jacob had called the lab he was working with to get the jello and dispose of it properly, allowing them to run more tests, too, now that they knew the cure.

You stood aside, arms crossed in satisfaction, as Tom approached.

“So you’re you again? Nothing I say can affect you?”

“Well I wouldn’t put it that way, but I’m definitely not eating any avocados or tying your shoelaces in the near future.”

He gave a chuckle and you started slowly walking home from the park.

“Hey, um, now that you’re cured and everything, I’m really sorry about last night. I accidentally put you in a weird position and I get it if you’re mad at me. I’m okay just calling us friends and ending it there if that’s what you want,” Tom said. 

You thought for a few moments about his proposal.

“You know, I was technically being honest last night, but my answer has changed since then.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well... These past couple of weeks, things have felt really...”

“Weird? Off?” he interjected.

“Exactly! We’ve been so out of sync and I couldn’t figure out why! But after last night I realized that it’s because we aren’t simply friends. And I don’t know where you stand on this, but... I think I have feelings for you? And if you want to stay just friends I understand, but I just hate when we aren’t honest with each other.”

“Wait. You do?”

“Yeah. I really do.”

You braced yourself for him to shoot you down and put you back in the friend zone, but his reply surprised you.

“I guess now is the perfect time to tell you that I’ve had feelings for you for... well... ever.”

Now it was your turn to be shocked.

“You have!?”

“Well, yeah. Of course. You’re strong, smart, and beautiful. You kick butt like nobody’s business and above all, put up with me every day. You’re like the most incredible person ever. How could I not be into you?”

You felt yourself blushing as you approached your front porch.

“You’re amazing, Tom. You know that?” he jokingly waved you off, but then you were standing quietly.

“Sooo... monthly movie marathon tomorrow at my place? I’ll provide the snackage,” Tom offered, reminding you of your scheduled hangout. You looked down at the ground with a smile, then back up again, nodding.

Usually this was the part where you’d say goodnight and maybe hug, but this time you took it a step further.

You reached up and kissed him on the lips. It was only for a second, but both of you were stunned upon pulling back.

“I know I usually tell you not to bring anything to movie day, but could you please bring some more of those with you?” Tom joked once he snapped out of it.

“Oh my gosh,” you replied in amusement, giving him a light shove. “Goodnight, Tom.”

“Night, y/n.”

And with that, the man you realized you’d loved for years turned around and made his leave.

#

A/N: yooooo I actually really loved this. I really tried to fit the KP vibes but sorry if anything felt off. There’s just not much as iconic as the og Kim and Ron, ya know?

Anyways thanks for reading and as always please feel free to send an ask or message anytime!

Send a message or ask if you’d like to be added to my permanent or series taglists so I can verify you’ve been added!

Tag list: @readheadwriter, @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @agentnataliahofferson, @spider-babe,  

[nade2308]

"Bargain" for Robin...

It’s finally here. Took me a while to come up with the full story, but in a surprise bout of inspiration I had it written in a few hours last night. 

John wakes up in the dark cell. He can feel the fever racking his body, the shakes are worse than they were last night and sweat has glued his hair to his forehead. 

It's the infection running through his system, he knows that, he knew it the moment they drove his own bowie knife in his stomach. If John had to guess, the blade nicked his kidney, or at least some other organ close to it. He took a first aid course and has some training in field medicine, but he ain't a doctor. Even with that he knows that if they stay here for longer than what they have already been kept for, he won't make it. 

It makes John sad, because he doesn't want to croak on the kid just now. They had just begun to build their relationship and he feels like he's starting to earn Robin's trust and love and that's more than John could ask for. 

He dreamed of Arion last night. It felt so vivid he woke up screaming. He woke up to an empty cell. If John had to guess it was close after 6am. The cell was still empty. 

The first time John suspected the guys who had them weren't keeping them just for information was when Robin disappeared and the next time he returned he brought fresh bandages and antibiotics. And the good kind. 

The second time, John was too out of it to question it. There was food and water along with the meds, and if John was healthier than this he would notice something was wrong, but be as it was, he wasn't. 

It felt wrong to have Robin take care of him. John was supposed to be the one to protect him and not the other way around. He was supposed to be the one to hold on, take the blows. 

Instead, it was Robin who was probably being tortured and asked questions. 

John wondered why they didn't kill him already. He was becoming a deadweight and slowing everyone down, most of all Robin. He knew the kid was never going to attempt an escape if John was to stay back, and he knew that because he wouldn't have done that, leaving Robin alone. Even if it was just to get help. 

They had to get out of here. John was starting to feel better despite the fever and his injuries. He could talk to Robin, get him to think of a plan, something. The longer they have been held captive, the more leverage whoever held them had over Chimera. If they tried to make an exchange or to blackmail their agency… John didn't even want to imagine what would happen if someone didn't just outright come and rescue them. It looked like they were stuck here for the foreseeable future the way things progressed. 

He wished for the kid's magic to, you know, magically return so they were able to burn this place from the ground up. But that wasn't an option. It wasn't an option before, and now with such a distress thrown over the kid's shoulders. 

Where are you, Robin? 

…

The next time John opened his eyes, Robin was in the cell with him. He looked worse for wear, his clothes were dirty and torn in some places. The smudges under his eyes were more pronounced. If John wasn't so worried and hurting he'd make a joke how Robin's bags under his eyes needed their own baggage tags.  

The kid looked sad and resigned, but when he realized that John was watching him his eyes suddenly changed color. 

He's trying to be forcefully happy for me, the voice inside John's head supplied him helpfully, and his heart ached. 

"Hey, you are awake." 

John stared a little bit more at his partner, there was definitely something off with Robin. He couldn't tell what it was, but it wasn't a good thing. 

"Hey…" John rasped out and he was in a need of water. They haven't given him any since yesterday. 

"Here, drink this. There's more meds." 

John eyed the pills and the bottle of water warily, but he trusted Robin so he took them dutifully. 

Lying back against the tattered mattress, the wound on his stomach pulled and John groaned. 

"Lay still, you don't need to make it bleed again. Last night you moved in your dreams… and they didn't like that you started bleeding again." 

It was the first real talk they had in days, and John could see the worry in Robin's eyes now. They were sparkly in the dim light of the cell, and John realized that the kid was holding back tears. 

"I'm sorry. Didn't mean to worry you." 

"It's okay. Now you are okay. It's fixed." 

It felt wrong to hear words that were meant to soothe him sounds so mechanically said. John had a hard time focusing and there was a thought that eluded him every time he tried to ask Robin… something. 

The way Robin was huddled in the corner of the cell, close to where John was spread out, yet so far, made John think hard about what that reminded him of. 

But why was it so hard to reach and hold his thoughts? 

"Do you have any idea who has us?" John asked, aware that he needed more water. 

Robin shook his head and it was only now that John realized Robin was shivering. 

It wasn't a good idea probably because they were both grimy, and John was feverish at that, but maybe if he could hug Robin and warm him up…

It took a lot of work for him to let John even touch him in the aftermath of what happened with Arion. 

"Hey, kid… c'mere. Come closer." 

John watched as Robin frantically searched his surroundings with his eyes, like someone was hiding there with them. The kid was jumpy and scared as it was, but it was unsettling to see him that much rattled. 

"I ain't gonna hurt you. Jus' want to check if you are hurt somewhere, and maybe you could humor this old man and give him a hug?" 

Robin physically recoiled at John's words. It told John that his hunch was right. 

"Robin?" 

"I… I can't." 

"Why… why not? Kid?" 

"Please, I can't." 

It was alarming to see Robin teary eyed, pleading with him. It was right as if John was caught in one of his nightmares. 

The Robin that he was seeing before him felt so much like Robin at the start of their partnership. Wary, distrusting, recoiling at any touch that might have been too much or too- 

Oh. 

Oh no. 

It couldn't be. 

No. 

Not again. 

"Robin?" 

There were steps closing in on their cell and Robin recoiled again, but this time the look of fear got replaced by the one of resignation. 

Robin didn't move to fight off what was to come. Like he knew what was going to happen. 

They both looked up in surprise when it wasn't the people holding them, but a Chimera TAc team approaching the doors to the cell. 

The relief was too big when John realized that their agency somehow located them. John closed his eyes, sighing when Robin wrapped his hand around the one of John's he extended. 

…

The next time he woke up, John was in the infirmary and there was something warm wrapped around his wrist. 

He opened his gritty eyes and took a look around. Taking a stock of his injuries, he looked at the source of warmth. He smiled when he realized it was Robin's head propped on John's hand, his face smushed half in it, and half in the mattress. It was cute and John wanted to run his hand through the blond mop of hair. But he didn't want to disturb Robin in his sleep. Even though the kid was contorted in an uncomfortable position, they were both beyond tired so John didn't say anything. Instead he closed his eyes and went back to sleep himself. 

…

John awoke several times after that and every time Robin was around, also sleeping. They were both exhausted and it was normal for them to need to replenish their lost energy. And in John's case to battle the infection away. 

Robin was sleeping in a bed next to John's and John was starting to worry about the kid. There wasn't anyone around, but John could see several get well soon cards on the nightstand which meant that their team visited them while John was asleep. 

Robin stirred on the bed next to his and John tried to get himself upright. He woke up and just like John, scanned his surroundings and when he saw John on the bed, Robin exhaled in relief. 

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty." 

John knew that would get a reaction out of Robin and as predicted Robin groaned and buried his face in his hands. 

"How are you feelin'?" 

"Pretty sure I should be asking you that." Robin's voice sounded off, tired and exhausted. 

"I think that since we are in the infirmary and I'm up and talking that I'll be fine. It's you I'm worried about." 

John waited for a reaction, for something to tell him that he was wrong. He remembered everything that happened when they were still held captive and his realization right before they were saved. 

"I'm fine. You should be worrying about yourself and your stab wound." 

"I will. Look, Robin, I…" 

John didn't know what to say. How was he going to ask his partner if he exchanged sexual favors to keep John alive? And how did John ask that in a way that did not sound like he was blaming the kid or judging him? The memory of what happened at Rowan house, shortly before Arion took Robin was still fresh and John did not want to make the same mistake twice. 

He could feel Robin's eyes on him and John was ready to drop the topic when he heard Robin's breath hitch. 

"I'm sorry. I know what you are thinking, and I'm sorry. But I had to… I had to keep you alive. It was the only way I knew how- What are you doing? John, don't move." 

John realized too late that he should have listened to Robin, but he wasn't going to just lay there while Robin blamed himself for something he had little to no control over. 

"John…" 

"I won't let you put yourself down like that. It's not… It was never your fault. I'm sorry I reacted the way I did back when I learned what happened to you. You did not deserve any of it. And it hurts me to think that you did that again to save me, but not for the reasons you think." 

"I… I let them do what they wanted to me because I… I was selfish, John. I wanted you to live. I know that no one lives forever, not even the fae, even though we are known for the longevity of our lives. But I want you, I need you to live. I can't… I can't lose you, too." 

John realized where Robin came from and his heart was hurting at the prospect of the kid losing someone else too. John wanted to promise Robin that he wasn't going to die anytime soon or ever, but it wasn't realistic to do that to the kid. 

"I know. I don't want you to lose me either. It doesn't make what happened any less… hurtful. I don't want to put you in a position where you are forced to do that to keep me alive. Or to save me." 

"They were hellbent on killing you. For what we did. Or rather what I did, and what you didn't. You didn't let him to… not like Michaels." 

The lightbulb went off in John's head. 

"Lewis." 

Robin nodded.

John had to bite on his hand so as to not scream. He was afraid that something like this would happen one day. 

"John… are you mad at me?" 

"What… no, of course I'm not mad at you. I… I know that my past actions are still present in mind, yours as well as mine, and chances are we won't ever forget what I did and how I acted, but I want you to know that no matter what happens, I won't ever get mad at you. I'm mad at myself." 

"Why?" 

"Because I… I wasn't strong enough kiddo. I let them ambush us and take us. They did this to you because you had no other choice and I was useless." 

"Don't say that. You were hurt. With your own knife, John." 

John didn't say anything, too caught up in the memories of that night and the hurt that followed. Which was nothing compared to what Robin had to do to keep him alive. 

"I know this situation wasn't ideal. But I want you to know that if that's the only way to save you, or anyone else, I'd do it again." 

"Exactly what I want to prevent. I'm sorry I failed you, kiddo." 

"You didn't. You held on. You were practically half-dead. After two days the meds stopped working, I could see that. But, I managed to bargain more." 

"I felt better towards the end… before they found us." 

"It always feels that way before you crash hard from dehydration, blood loss and improper treatment of the wound." 

John knew that Robin was speaking from experience. He has seen the scars. 

"I'm really glad you are alive, kid." 

"Me too." 

John extended his hand and Robin slowly came and sat on John's bed, taking his hand. John knew that it would be awhile before Robin felt comfortable enough for a hug or even a closer contact than this. But John was going to wait him out. 

They had time. 

They were safe. 

They are home. 

[ollieofthebeholder]

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

Tumblr tag || Also on AO3

Chapter 26: Jon

When Jon’s grandmother passed away peacefully in her sleep, not long after his twenty-fourth birthday, he quickly discovered that her life insurance and savings weren’t enough to cover all the bills that needed to be covered and put the house he’d grown up in on the market. He only vaguely remembers the whole procedure, as he was in something of a state of shock at the time, but he does remember accepting the first offer presented to him despite the realtor’s comments that he could “probably hold out for a bit more” if he wanted. Thus, he’s the only one not really startled at the speed with which he, Martin, and Tim find out that they’ve got the house.

To be clear: He’s not startled at the speed. He is, however, startled that they got it. Surely someone must have been willing to pay more for it, been better qualified. But no. They learn their offer has been accepted less than a week after the Primes’ disastrous encounter with Basira’s partner and the closing is scheduled for the following Friday. Martin theorizes that their position at the Magnus Institute gave them some extra clout. Tim jokes that it’s his charismatic personality. Jon frets that Elias might have had something to do with it for nefarious purposes.

Sasha finally does some research and tells them that it’s being sold by a pair of siblings barely out of their teens whose parents died unexpectedly and probably just need the money fast.

Martin doesn’t have much, just the little he managed to bring with him to the Institute when first escaping Jane Prentiss and the few things he’s re-acquired since then, and Jon’s things are still packed up from when he declined to renew the lease on his flat in August, so it’s mostly just Tim who needs to decide what he’s keeping and what he’s ready to part with or needs to replace. It takes them the better part of two Saturdays, but they manage to get everything boxed and sorted in time to move out the last full weekend of September.

The moving-in process is surprisingly fun. Sasha and the Primes even come to help (Tim suggests the latter so that Martin Prime knows his way around the house from the get-go, which is actually really sensible) and they make a party of it. Tim insists on setting up the sound system first, then gets everyone to contribute a certain number of songs to a playlist on some app he has on his phone. He puts it on shuffle and lets it play while they work together on the various rooms.

“Oh, my God,” Sasha moans after the eighth song that she evidently didn’t pick comes on. “Do any of you listen to a single band that’s put out an album since 1984?”

“Yes,” Martin says indignantly, his cheeks coloring slightly.

“Remasters don’t count.”

Martin Prime grins. “None of mine have come up, either.”

“What did you put on?” Sasha asks suspiciously.

She gets her answer a few minutes later when, after shuffle coughs up a Spice Girls song they all tease her mercilessly about, an honest to God sea shanty comes on. Tim and Jon laugh at Sasha’s dramatic, despairing groan, but it’s hard not to respond to the Martins’ enthusiasm as they—surprisingly—harmonize along with the recording while they set up the living room.

They’re almost done assembling the new bed Tim bullied Jon into buying (“You’re not in uni anymore, you don’t need to be sleeping on a futon, and anyway, when was this made, the Thatcher premiership?” “Brown, and shut up, Tim.”), which is the last piece of furniture they need to put together, when there’s a sound from the front door—two firm, solid knocks, audible all the way upstairs. Jon nearly drops the screwdriver as his heart kicks against his ribs. It’s stupid, and he knows it’s stupid, but two knocks like that always makes him think of that book.

Tim makes a noise in the back of his throat. “God, hope the music isn’t too loud.”

“I don’t think that’s it,” Martin says, but he sounds uncertain. “I-I mean, it’s been ages.”

Jon pushes himself to his feet. “I’ll check.”

He hurries out of the bedroom before anyone can comment on the clear break in his voice. He is, and there is no way to deny it to himself, legitimately afraid of what might be outside. The likelihood of it being a being of another entity is slim, but…well, there was Mr. Spider, and Jane Prentiss knocked on Martin’s door more than a few times to keep him off-balance, so there’s always the chance. It’s something he feels he can deal with, though, so he heads out to face it.

He does not, however, expect to open the door and be faced with what is either a small child or a casserole dish with tennis shoes.

“Hello,” a tiny voice says brightly from behind the dish. There’s a bit of shifting, and then two big brown eyes and a mass of curls appear over the rim. “I’ve brought you a cake.”

Jon will deny to his dying day that those words freeze his blood in his veins and make his heart stutter to a stop, but since this might actually be his dying day, he’ll be lying if he tries. His lips part, but no sound comes out.

“And a casserole, too,” the child continues, completely oblivious to Jon’s unwarranted panic attack. “That’s not as much fun, though, but Nan says it’s important to eat good, hearty food when you’ve been doing lots of work and that cake shouldn’t be a whole meal. I think there’s no point in being a grown-up if you can’t eat whatever you want, but…” The child heaves an enormous, dramatic sigh that seems too large for such a small body. “My Nan’s very, very old, and you don’t get to be old if you don’t do something right, so she must know what she’s talking about. Anyway, we made the casserole with lots and lots of cheese and she said that was okay, so at least it’s a little better.”

“Ah—thank you?” Jon manages. “H-here, let me…take that.”

He manages to extract the casserole dish, which certainly feels as if it’s laden with cheese; it weighs the proverbial ton. Quite possibly a literal one. It’s solid enough to anchor Jon to reality, though, and he studies his benefactor. The child can’t be more than seven or eight, at the most, with a round face and limbs hidden in an oversized, threadbare sweater that looks like it’s been handed down through more than a few generations. Dangling from one arm is a wicker basket that does indeed appear to contain a cake.

“It’s a chocolate cake with marshmallow frosting,” the child says. “I tried to write ‘Welcome to the neighborhood’ on it, but I didn’t put the tip on the piping bag right and it came off, so now it’s just a mess, but it’ll taste just as good, I promise. My Nan makes the best cakes.”

Jon smiles in spite of himself. “I don’t think I have enough hands to take it from you now. Would you mind bringing it into the kitchen for me?”

“Oh, sure!” The child practically hops over the threshold. “I always wanted to see what this house was like on the inside. Tibby used to babysit for me sometimes, but she always came over to our house, never me coming over here. Nan says it’s better that way, and Tibby always said it was laid out exactly like all the other houses, but it’s not the same as seeing it for yourself. Firsthand knowledge is best, that’s what I think. What do you think?”

“I—I think I agree with you,” Jon says. He also feels a bit like he’s staring at his younger self. “I assume you live in one of the other houses on the row?”

“Two doors down,” the child agrees cheerfully. “With the window boxes. My Nan likes to garden a bit, but she can’t bend over so much anymore, so Toby set up the window boxes for her a couple years ago.”

“And, uh, who is…Toby?”

“Oh, sorry, I thought you knew. Toby McGill. He and Tibby—that’s his sister Tabitha, but everyone calls her Tibby—they were the ones selling this house after their parents died. He’s at Surrey University now and he says he’s going to stay out there when it’s all said and done, and Tibby got a job on a boat.” The child sounds deeply impressed. “I want to be a sailor someday, too. Can you imagine getting to see the whole wide world by water and getting paid for it, too? I’d never want to leave. I told Tibby she has to save a spot on the crew for me and she laughed and promised, so I can’t wait. I’m going as soon as I grow up. I’m not going to university. You don’t need to go to university for everything, you know. I know Nan really wants me to go ‘cause Mum didn’t and neither did Dad and she doesn’t want me turning out like them, but you can turn out well even if you don’t go to university, can’t you?”

“Absolutely,” Jon says gravely. He casts an involuntary glance in the direction of the stairs, thinking of Martin. “One of my housemates didn’t go to university, and he’s one of the most brilliant people I know.”

“How many of you live here, anyway?”

“Just three of us.” Jon has no idea how much this child has seen and how many people he knows are in the house at the moment.

“Oh. There used to be three of us in my house, too.” The child scuffs a toe against the carpet just before they step into the kitchen. “And then there was going to be four, but Mum died and the baby did, too.”

“I’m sorry,” Jon says softly, feeling a pang. “I grew up with my grandmother, too.”

The child looks up at Jon and smiles, in such a way that Jon can’t help but smile back. “And you turned out okay.”

“Debatable,” Jon says. He sets the casserole dish on the counter. “I’m Jon, by the way. Jonathan Sims.”

“I’m Charlie. Charlie Cane.” The child smiles up at him and hands over the basket. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. Tell your grandmother we said thank you. I don’t know that any of us will have the energy to cook tonight. We’ll bring back the dishes tomorrow.”

“There’s no hurry. Nan doesn’t go anywhere.” Charlie flashes Jon a grin that’s missing two teeth, then turns and waves to the doorway. Jon glances up to see Martin, looking somewhere between worried and amused. “Hi! I’m Charlie Cane. Welcome to the neighborhood. Do you live here, too?”

“Um…yes. I’m Martin Blackwood. It’s…nice to meet you?” Martin raises an eyebrow at Jon.

“Charlie and his grandmother made us a casserole,” Jon says, gesturing at the counter. “And a cake.”

“That’s very nice of you. Thank you.” Martin smiles at Charlie and winks, although Jon doesn’t quite understand why.

“Welcome.” Charlie’s beaming smile could probably light the house for a week. “I’d best go before Nan thinks I’m doing something stupid again. See you later!”

He’s out the front door before Jon can respond, or even blink. He looks back to Martin, who isn’t even trying to hide his amusement. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, Jon. We were just wondering if you were okay. You were gone for a while.”

Jon gestures vaguely at the front door. “I don’t think that child has many people to talk to. Or at least not many people who will listen to him.”

Martin snorts. “I think you’ve got yourself a new best friend.”

Jon almost wants to say something flippant like Just what I need, but thinking on it, he actually doesn’t mind all that much. “Considering how much I would have given to have an adult pay that kind of attention to me when I was his age, I think I can handle that.”

Martin reaches over and pulls Jon into a hug. Jon lets himself be comforted for a moment, then extricates himself gently and smiles. “Come on. Let’s see if the others are ready to eat.”

As it turns out, the others finished putting together the bed and even made it while Jon talked to Charlie, so they’re all too happy to come into the kitchen for a hearty meal. It’s exactly as cheese-laden as Charlie promised. Jon recounts his conversation, to general amusement, although something flickers briefly across Martin Prime’s face and Jon Prime shoots Jon an understanding and slightly frightened look when he repeats Charlie’s opening words. If anyone else notices, they give no sign of it.

Tim lets the music keep playing while they eat. Jon mostly tunes it out, no pun intended, and he rather suspects the others do too. But just as they’re scraping their plates clean—the food is delicious, and Tim declares he’s going to try and charm Charlie’s grandmother out of the recipe—Martin Prime suddenly tilts his head to one side, as if trying to catch a sound. A smile twitches at his lips, and he stands up and holds out a hand to Jon Prime. “May I?”

Jon Prime looks startled for a split-second, then smiles—no, grins—and places his hand in Martin Prime’s. He lets Martin Prime pull him away from the table and into his arms, and the two of them start slow-dancing.

Jon pauses, fork suspended over his plate, and watches them. Jon Prime lets Martin Prime lead him in a simple box step, one arm draped casually over Martin Prime’s shoulder, while Martin Prime’s hand rests firmly at his waist; their other fingers are laced together in a way that would make it difficult to telegraph intended moves if they didn’t—probably—know each other so well. The space between them is so little it’s a wonder they don’t constantly trip over each other’s feet, and before long their foreheads touch. The song is gentle and plaintive, encouragement from one partner to the other to trust and relax and allow the first to take care of the second, a promise that the second person won’t be considered weak or lesser if they allow themselves to be comforted.

I promise you’ll be safe here in my arms…

Martin Prime lifts his arm and spins Jon Prime around gently, and when Jon Prime comes back into the closed frame, he leans his head against the shoulder where his hand isn’t resting and closes his eyes. Martin Prime pulls him closer and rests his cheek alongside Jon Prime’s as they continue dancing. It’s one of the most intimate and romantic things Jon has ever seen, and he almost has to look away from it.

Almost. Not quite. Something keeps him drawn, and there’s a tiny part of Jon’s brain that suggests it probably isn’t just the pleasure at seeing someone who’s basically him safe and happy and in love mixed with the vague sense of longing for something like that—maybe not that exactly, but something like it. It may also be that watching the Primes slow dancing means he doesn’t have to look at anyone else.

The song plays itself out. Martin Prime turns his head slightly; Jon Prime turns his at the same time, and their lips meet gently in the middle. This time Jon does look away. He’s never quite been able to figure out how he feels about kissing, to be honest; it’s one of the things that sent his and Georgie’s relationship down in flames, was the fact that he always acted like you think I’ve got poison in my lip gloss, according to her. But he finds himself wondering for a moment what Martin’s lips would feel like against his, if they’d be as soft and warm as the rest of him. If it might make a difference to kiss Martin instead of Georgie, or Meredith, or Kelly. And that’s not a question he’s comfortable asking himself just then, let alone trying to answer.

The scrape of a chair breaks his attention, and he looks up to see the Primes sitting down like nothing happened, although they’re still holding hands. Tim clears his throat. “Who wants cake?”

The cake is, as promised, a bit of a mess—it looks like someone tried to tease out the blob created by the icing tip popping off with a toothpick or something, but the resultant design looks like the pictures someone showed Jon once of a web woven by a spider that had been fed caffeine, and the fact that the icing is bright red doesn’t help—but it is absolutely delicious.

Afterward, Tim and Jon store the leftovers while Martin and Sasha start on the dishes. Jon Prime glances at the kitchen clock and touches Martin Prime on the shoulder. “We should probably go. The later it gets, the more likely that…someone might cruise by the Institute, and I’d rather not risk that.”

Martin Prime squeezes Jon Prime’s hand gently, and Jon swallows on the sudden surge of nausea. They haven’t seen anything of Detective Tonner, and Basira didn’t say anything about her when she showed up last week to switch out the tapes, but the memory of the Primes’ faces when they stumbled back to Tim’s place to change and return his car is a hard one to shake. Even though Jon Prime swears he and Daisy eventually became friends, it’s the eventually that sticks out, and Jon isn’t sure what he’ll do if Daisy turns up at the Institute. It’s also obvious that the Primes are more afraid of her than they’re letting on.

Tim opens his mouth, probably to invite them to spend the night or something, but Sasha beats him to it. “Can you wait a few minutes? I’d rather not walk to the tube station by myself, if it comes to that, and I think you said there’s an entrance to the tunnels near there.”

Jon Prime frowns slightly. “I…don’t think I did, but there is.”

“We’ll walk with you, Sasha,” Martin Prime assures her.

Tim sighs theatrically. “I feel a little better, which is a relative statement not to be taken as approval.”

“Your objection is duly noted.” Sasha hands Martin a plate to dry.

All too soon, everything is cleaned up, just as the playlist comes to an end, and there’s really no way of stalling them further. There’s a round of hugs and see-you-Mondays, and then Sasha and the Primes head out the door, leaving Jon, Martin, and Tim alone in their new house.

It’s not that late, comparatively, so Jon suggests a card game. They’ve played most nights since Sasha went back to sleeping in her own flat; they’ve played a couple of games of Rummy or Go Fish, and Tim once tried to teach Jon and Martin a game he learned from his grandparents that uses a forty-card deck (Martin picked it up quickly, Jon did not), but most of the time they play Crazy Eights. Tim declares that they’re going to keep playing until either he or Jon or both manage to overtake Martin’s score, which is clearly going to be an impossible task, as he’s up by nearly a thousand points and consistently wins at least three or four games a night. Still, they give it a valiant effort. After Martin manages to go out while both Tim and Jon still have an eight each in their hand, though, they decide to call it quits for one night.

“Someday I’ll figure out how you keep doing that,” Jon says, shuffling the deck lightly before putting it back in the box.

Martin shrugs. “Practice, I guess? I used to play with my granddad a lot when I was younger. We kept a running total, too, and I think I was up three thousand points or so when he died.”

Tim gives a low whistle. “How old were you?”

“Nine. We’d been playing pretty regularly since I was five. At least one game every time I went to visit.”

Jon thinks back to the conversation he and Martin had in Tim’s kitchen the morning after Prentiss’s attack. “Is this the grandfather who had the cherry trees?”

“You remembered.” Martin looks pleased. “Yeah, he was my mum’s dad. I never met my dad’s family, that I remember anyway.” He pauses. “You, uh, you told Charlie you were raised by your grandmother. Was that…?”

Jon didn’t know Martin was there, but he’s kind of glad he doesn’t have to figure out how to bring it up. “My father’s mother. She was…formidable. My father died when I was two, from an accidental fall, and my mother died a couple years later. Surgery complications.”

“I’m sorry,” Martin says softly. “That must have been hard on you.”

“Harder on my grandmother, I think. I was barely old enough to remember them.” All Jon remembers of his father is his laugh, and he’s fairly certain that most of his memories of his mother come from his aunt.

Tim leans forward, resting his arms on the table. “Is she still around? Your grandmother?”

Jon shakes his head. “She died just before I started working at the Institute. What about yours, Tim?”

“My dad’s dad is the only grandparent still around. I think.” Tim worries at his lower lip with his teeth for a moment. “I’d like to think someone would call me if something happened, but I don’t know.”

Martin hums sympathetically. “Is he…in a home?”

“Not as far as I know. Last I heard, he was still living with my parents. Moved in when Granny died, just after I left for university.” Tim sighs. “We’re not…close. After Danny…”

Jon reaches over and touches Tim’s arm gently. “It must be hard on them, losing a son. No parent expects to outlive their child.”

“That’s just it. Mum refuses to believe he’s dead.” Tim smiles weakly. “No body, you know? Dad isn’t sure, but he also thinks I know more than I’ve told them. Grandfather all but accused me of having a hand in Danny’s disappearance.”

“What?” Jon blinks, shocked. “How could anyone think you’d—you would never.”

“I know, but…well, Dad’s family was always a bit conservative, blue collar and all that, and I’m…well, me. I think that’s why Dad encouraged my hiking and camping and all that. Hoped it would knock some ‘sense’ into me,” Tim says with a wry twist of his lips. “Once I came out as bi, though, I think they decided there was no hope left for me. It just got worse after Danny died.”

Martin’s expressive face closes down, and Jon’s stomach lurches. This is the most they’ve talked about their families in…ever, he thinks, but from the little bits of information Martin—and Martin Prime, for that matter—have let slip, Jon has formed a very unfavorable impression of Martin’s mother. He’s always kind of had a hazy idea that Tim’s family situation was better, especially after he heard the pride in his voice when he talked about Danny when giving his statement, and finding out that it wasn’t much better than theirs…

“How old were you?” he asks, not sure why. “When you—told them.”

“Seventeen. There was a guy I’d been seeing—nothing serious, really, but we had fun together—and we went out for Valentine’s Day. My parents were confused because they knew my girlfriend and I had just broken up before Christmas and I hadn’t mentioned another girl, so I told them about Steve.” Tim gets quiet for a second. “Mum cried. Dad just…told me to stop upsetting my mother and never brought it up again. Not until Grandfather started in on me.”

Jon swallows. “You’ve a great deal more courage than I have. I—I never admitted to my grandmother that I ever had any interest in boys, let alone dated one.”

“Only one? You’re missing out.” Tim’s grin is a pale echo of his usual one, but it is at least genuine. “How ‘bout you, Martin?”

“A few.” Martin relaxes with a visible effort that makes Jon’s heart ache. “Been out since I was fourteen. Mum reacted…about as well as she reacted any other time I told her something she didn’t like or did something she wasn’t expecting. I never brought anyone home to meet her or…really talked to her about my dating, and she only ever brought it up in relation to herself. Like saying it was a good thing there wasn’t any risk of me passing on any of my numerous undesirable traits to a helpless child.”

“I don’t think your mum understands what ‘bisexual’ means,” Tim points out.

“Probably not, but it doesn’t matter. I’m gay.” Martin grimaces. “I’m also ace, so no risk there anyway, but…”

Jon wants to say any child would be fortunate to count you as a father or I can’t think of a single undesirable trait about you, but what actually comes out is, “Ace?”

“Uh, asexual. It’s—I don’t…get attracted like that. Romance, sure, aesthetic stuff and all that, but not…” Martin gestures vaguely. “Tried it anyway, for a couple of guys I was with, but i-it didn’t go well.”

Jon’s world view shifts abruptly on its axis. Tim, though, looks suddenly worried. “Are you okay? They didn’t—”

“No, no,” Martin says quickly. “It wasn’t—I just don’t like it. That’s all.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Never bothered telling Mum that part. She wouldn’t…I’ve done enough damage.”

Tim pulls Martin into a quick one-armed hug, and Jon reaches across the table to squeeze his hand as gently as he can, but they change the subject after that.

They end up sitting up for a while in their new living room, relaxing. Tim props his feet up in the recliner and works on a crossword; Jon curls up at one end of the sofa with a book he’s been meaning to read for years that Jon Prime assures him he’ll love; Martin sits at the other end and knits. It about bowled Jon over completely when he learned that Martin made most of the sweaters he wears, but the sight and sound of him working away has become increasingly familiar in the last few weeks, especially after the Primes and the rest of the crew collaborated to get him an array of needles and knitting wool in all colors of the rainbow for his birthday. Jon usually finds the gentle clicking of the needles soothing, but tonight it’s just a hair distracting, and he keeps glancing up from the page to watch Martin’s fingers as they expertly manipulate the yarn or Tim tap the eraser of his pencil thoughtfully against his jaw while he contemplates an answer. He’s not even quite sure what he’s looking at.

Finally, Tim lays down his puzzle with a sigh. “I think I’m gonna turn in,” he says, sounding oddly reluctant. “Long day and all that.”

“Yeah, I’m just gonna—” Martin works a couple more stitches and folds up his project. “Probably a good stopping place for tonight.”

Jon considers saying he’s going to stay in the living room and finish the chapter he’s on, but if he’s being completely honest, he’s been on the same page for however long it’s been and hasn’t taken in a single word. Silently, he slides the scrap of paper he’s currently using as a bookmark back between the pages and closes the book. “Well. Good night, then.”

“’Night, Jon.”

The bedrooms are all upstairs, two on one side and one on the other with the bathroom handy, and the three of them wish each other goodnight again before disappearing into their rooms. Jon closes the door and looks around the room, his room.

There’s not much to it, to be honest. A nightstand, a dresser, a battered desk he’s had since he was a child, a lamp and the bed. He sets the book on top of the desk and changes into his comfortable sleep clothes, then crawls into the bed and pulls the covers up over his shoulders.

It’s…odd. No, not odd. Jon can’t quite think of the right word for it. But the sheets feel unfamiliar against his skin, and they don’t smell right, either, probably because they’re new. The mattress that felt perfectly comfortable when he tested it out in the store doesn’t seem to afford the same comfort now, and he wonders if the floor model has simply had much of the stiffness tested out of it over time. Even the pillows, which he did retain from his old bedroom setup, seem determined to thwart his attempts to find a comfortable position.

He rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling, arm draped over his midsection. He won’t fall asleep like this, he’s always been a side-sleeper, but his mind is a seething roil of emotions and he needs to get his thoughts under control before he can even have a hope of getting comfortable enough to sleep, he guesses.

Asexual. Jon probes at the word, at what it describes. I don’t get attracted like that. I just don’t like it. Honestly, until meeting Georgie, Jon had no idea that sort of attraction really existed; he thought it was just something out of the lurid romance novels his grandmother favored and he’d read once or twice in sheer desperation. It was something she’d wanted, though, so he’d tried a few times, but his efforts hadn’t satisfied her and he never really saw what all the fuss was about. He can take it or leave it, preferably the latter.

He never knew there was a word for it.

Suddenly, he wants to talk to Martin about it, about how he realized, how he knew. Where he found the word. If there are many more like—well, like them, he supposes. If that’s one of the reasons he was reluctant to tell Jon how he felt. He wants to ask about Martin’s experiences, if they were bad just because his body didn’t want them or for some other reason. A part of him also wants to cry from sheer relief. He isn’t broken. There’s nothing wrong with him. Well, not in that respect, anyway.

He sighs heavily and rolls onto his side again, plumping the pillows and curling one arm around them. They’re too flat, he thinks idly, too soft and yielding. Which is odd, because that’s never bothered him before. He can’t seem to get warm, either, which is also bizarre because it’s been an unusually mild day for late September and he’s under the duvet he’s had for years, which suddenly seems too light and insubstantial. The room is too quiet and still. It all feels…wrong, somehow.

Jon closes his eyes and stubbornly tries to force sleep, to no avail. The sense of wrongness pervades his being, curling through him and keeping him tethered to consciousness. He runs through the list of problems he seems to be having and tries to come up with which one might be keeping him awake. The only thing he can think of is the unfamiliar mattress. Everything else is exactly the way it was in his old flat.

And when was the last time you slept there? The thought hits him all of a sudden, and his eyes snap open. He forgot. The last time he slept in his apartment was the night before Jane Prentiss attacked the Institute. Ever since then, he’s been sleeping in Tim’s living room…or in Tim’s bed. With the others.

That’s all it is. He isn’t used to the silence of being alone. He’s not used to not knowing, right away, exactly where Tim and Martin are and if they’re safe. He’ll just go and check on them, see that they’re safe, and he’ll be able to get to sleep just fine.

He throws back the covers, slides his glasses back on, and heads into the hallway. Jon somehow ended up in the room by the bathroom, while Tim and Martin are on the other side of the hallway. Martin’s room is first, though, so Jon heads there. He’s as careful as he can be. Martin is probably asleep by now. He definitely seemed tired while they were still in the living room, and Jon wonders if he lingered because the other two were still sitting down there. It makes him feel slightly guilty, like he should have called it a night earlier so Martin can get some sleep. And after all, they did have a very emotionally draining conversation, which probably exhausted him as well. All that runs through Jon’s mind as he slowly, slowly eases the door open and peers around it to see into Martin’s room.

It’s sparsely furnished; nothing but a bed and one of those flimsy pop-up cloth jobs bisected into cubes, which is serving as his dresser. Martin’s laptop and phone sit on the floor, both connected to their chargers. The bed is mussed slightly and shows signs of having been occupied, but Jon’s heart rate accelerates when he looks at it. It’s empty.

There’s no sign of a struggle, he tells himself, and he heard nothing, so surely everything is fine. Martin’s probably just in the bathroom, or downstairs getting a glass of water or something. It’s fine. Everything’s fine. Jon will just…go check on Tim and Tim will be fine and then he’ll go find Martin and make sure he’s fine and it…will…be…fine. He pulls the door closed and turns to Tim’s room.

The door is slightly ajar, and there’s a faint glow coming from the room. Jon hesitates, then taps lightly on the door three times before easing it open. Tim is sitting up on the bed, cross-legged and leaning forward slightly. And—Jon’s shoulders slump in relief—Martin is there, too, on the edge of the bed, one leg hanging off the side and the other tucked underneath him. They’re talking quietly, but both obviously exhausted. They look up at the sound of the door opening and watch Jon stand in the doorway. He opens his mouth, then realizes he doesn’t know what to say and closes it again.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” Martin asks gently. The circles under his eyes are almost black.

“No,” Jon admits. “I—I just wanted to—” He breaks off, still not sure what to say.

Wordlessly, Tim holds out a hand. Jon lets the bedroom door shut behind him as he comes forward and takes it. Martin wraps an arm around him from behind, and the two of them pull Jon onto the bed and into a lying-down position. Tim rolls over and snaps off the lamp by his bed, then pulls the covers up over all three of them. Jon manages to reach down and snag the middle to help.

“Better,” Tim murmurs.

It’s not a question, but Jon hums in agreement anyway. Trying for levity, he says, “Shame to waste money on new beds, though.”

“We’ll be able to sleep there eventually,” Martin says. Jon only realizes how much stress was in his voice when it’s drastically lessened. “At some point we’ll probably want the space. But for now, there’s this.”

“For now, there’s this,” Jon agrees. He tilts his head back briefly to rest it against Martin’s shoulder, and Martin scoots in closer.

Tim does, too, the two of them sandwiching Jon securely between them. “Get some sleep,” he says. “It’ll be all right tomorrow.”

Jon yawns and closes his eyes, and it doesn’t really surprise him when he falls asleep straightaway. The nightmares are as present as ever, but in the morning, he can almost fool himself into believing they weren’t so bad.

Almost.

[wickedlyqueer]

Holy Poly

Ever since @gliyerabaa became obsessed with the Glinda/Fiyero/Elphaba ship it suddenly reminded me I wrote a poly fic years ago where essentially the Charmed Circle lived together and most of them were dating each other.

I never finished or published it, because I’m first and foremost a gelphie ho. to a point it felt wrong to be calling it a poly fic, bc I just wanted to focus on the gelphie dynamic.

Anyway, because I promised Rae (and I’m sure they’d love to see some gliyeraba content they didn’t write themself) this was the intro chapter of the modern AU, fresh out of college, poly chapter I wrote like 3 years ago.

Save the trees!

Perhaps every accidental cluster of people had a short period of grace. Although gracious was probably not the best word to describe the weirdly formed, yet close-knit circle. Exuberant. Loud. Queer. Those were better words. A loving found family that could not been torn apart even if fate wanted it to.

Neither was their time together short-lived. At least, not if it was up to Glinda. After most of them had graduated last summer, the crushing college debt and the terrifying world that was job hunting in a broken economic system made the decision on cohabitation all the easier.

On the outskirts of Shiz they had found their home: a small house with just enough room for the six of them to not suffocate. It was nothing fancy, but none of them would want it any other way. 

“Elphie’s not here?”

Glinda had entered the living room where the boys were spread lazily across their two mismatched couches bought at a garage sale.

“Nope, left quite a while ago,” Boq replied.

“Aren’t they at their usual train station spot harassing people?” 

“Language, Crope,” from the kitchen came Fiyero’s rich voice. “Spreading awareness about global warming isn’t the same as harassing.”

“Fine. It’s annoying people then.”

“Not everyone finds that awareness crap annoying,” Tibbett said, throwing a casual glance at Glinda. “I believe someone went weak at the knees for that.”

She felt a blush creeping up; not for the comment he made, but for the comment that was about to come. It had turned into an inside joke in their circle, and she had learned from experience that the less she objected the more humiliation she was spared.

“Is it?” Crope wiggled his eyebrows. “The way I heard, she complimented Elphie on their dedication to the cause for painting their entire visage green.”

The trio threw a fist in the air and shouted in unison, “Save the trees!” without their attention leaving the screen. 

“I hate every single one of you.” 

“You can’t deny that’s how it went, Glin,” Fiyero commented. “Have you tried texting by the way?”

“I think their phone died,” she checked one more time for any messages, but still no response from Elphaba. “Remind me to ambush them again for getting a decent phone.”

“At least they lost that brick phone.”

Crope snorted. “Yeah, right. Lost.”

Tibbett gave him a wicked smile. “No fun in being a tattletale, babe.”

Whatever they were grinning about it was Crope and Tibbett, and Glinda prefered to stay ignorant on the subject. She headed towards the kitchen where Fiyero was cooking dinner. A towel hanging over his shoulder and his beautiful long black hair stuffed in a loose bun so no strains could spoil the food.

“Smells good, Yero.” She wrapped her arms around his belly, and stretched out completely on her tiptoes and almost managed to put her chin on his shoulder. “If only I could see if it looks as equally good.”

Fiyero laughed heartily and sank through his knees so Glinda could see better. “How about now?”

She smiled. “So far this meal is Glinda-approved.”

“That’s all I need.”

A cheer came from Boq from the living room having beaten the other two at the game. 

“I think I’m going to check the train station,” Glinda said as she let go off Fiyero; the pose was growing uncomfortable for the both of them. Their height difference was ridiculous. How she had ended up with two partners so much taller than her was beyond her.

“Oh, you know what you should do? Call Nessa. Maybe she can contact Elphie through their sibling telepathy.”

“I think that only works when they have something to bicker about,” Glinda said, but dialed the number anyway. “Goes straight to voicemail.”

“Why do those two even have phones?” Fiyero muttered. 

“Okay, so train station and then I’ll drop by Nessa’s dorm to check on her too. Any other places Elphie might be?”

Four voices spoke as one. “The library.”

“Should’ve figured that one out myself.”

“Glin, you do know Elphie’s like a cat, right? They always find their way back home eventually.”

“I know, but I feel like going outside for a bit. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Sure thing. Oh, and Glinda?”

She turned around. “Hm?”

He took her hand and planted a chaste kiss on her fingertips. “Can I just say you look absolutely wonderful today?”

She beamed. “You’re too charming for your own good Fiyero.” 

“It’s why he has so many partners,” Crope called from the couch, apparently eavesdropping on the conversation. There was zero privacy in this house. “Too handsome too. Who could say no to that gorgeous face?”

“Not us,” added Tibbett. “And don’t forget that he’s a flirt without realizing it. It just comes natural to him and it’s adorable.”

Fiyero had the advantage that his dark skin hid most of his blush, but knowing him since high school, Glinda knew what a flustered Fiyero looked like. 

“I just got a lot of love to share, I guess,” he smiled shyly. “Let me know when you find Elphaba, okay? Dinner will be ready around seven.” 

--

Elphaba wasn’t at the library and neither were they at the train station. All Glinda found there were old memories. She could see the young, nervous girl fresh from the Pertha Hills standing on the platform. Fiyero’s steady hand on her shoulder to ease her worries. Had four years really passed so quickly?

She traced her footsteps from the past. Her gaze wandering over the square in front of the train station like it did then. The only thing that was missing, was a green person storming towards her. From that moment on she was captivated by Elphaba, although the first few months she had let her socialite behavior overrule.

“You could’ve disclosed in our online correspondence that you’re green!” 

She had whined once she had found out the Green-Tree-From-Shiz-Station was her roommate. Elphaba had pointed at the five enormous trunks brought into their room by an upperclassman.

“Only if you had disclosed you would bring your entire house with you.”

Glinda had thought the roommate matching system had completely failed her. No way had she the highest match with a snarky, social-reclusive green person! It had taken her some time to realize they were ridiculously similar, just coming from different angles.

Her path down memory lane continued when she entered Shiz campus. It only had been two months ago since she graduated, but it already felt foreign being here. As if she no longer fitted. A group of giggling first year students passed her. Glinda recognized her own innocence in them back at that age. Feeling as if you’re on top of the world only because you have yet to learn what that world entailed.

Unconsciously she had walked to Crage Hall. She admired the building when a busted up blue van pulled over. It was Elphaba’s. They all jokingly referred to it as the Abduction Truck, because that’s how sketchy it looked. 

Elphaba got out and moved over to the back of the truck. The only reason Elphaba had bought that van was to drive Nessa around. Normally they were a very dedicated public transport advocate, and although Elphaba would deny it, Glinda knew they’d bend their own morals to please Nessa.

Glinda walked towards the car and Elphaba looked surprised. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

“Looking for you actually.”

“Oh?” 

Elphaba opened the backdoors to reveal a Nessa waiting impatiently to be led out. “You do take your time don’t you, Elphaba? The air conditioner was already turned off and in this heated garbage tin can of yours I could’ve already suffocated. Hello Glinda.”

“Hey Nessa.”

Elphaba lifted the ramp from the truck. “And yet you still live. The Unnamed God must have favorites after all.”

Nessa rolled her eyes. “Just open a window next time, please?”

“Yes, your majesty.” Elphaba vastened the ramp and Nessa rode her wheelchair to the pavement.

Elphaba shoved the ramp back inside and closed the door. Glinda walked towards them and was met with a strong smell. She sniffed Elphaba’s shirt and got worried. “Why do you smell like chlorine? Were you near water?”

Elphaba gestured to Nessa. “Had to drive this kid to Red Sand.”

“Your half year check-up! I completely forgot.” One of the reasons why Elphaba had bought the van was so Nessa could study at Shiz. Every six months they had to drive all the way to Red Sand where Nessa had to do exercises in a swimming pool. That’s what Glinda understood of it at least. “How was it?”

“Still pretty paralyzed,” Nessa supplied dryly.

“Doctor Kazhki said your legs were looking healthy.”

“As healthy as they can be paralyzed, yes.”

Glinda tugged at Elphaba’s hand before the argument could escalate. “Hey, you vanished without a single message.”

Elphaba frowned. “No I didn’t, I sent you a text and—ah,” they had gotten their phone out. “Must’ve died before it was sent.”

“No way!” Glinda feigned surprise. “Tomorrow we’re gonna get you a new phone and I won’t hear any of your usual excuses.”

“Can you do your flirting somewhere that isn’t in front of me?” Nessarose disrupted them. “I’m going inside.”

She wheeled away.

“Thanks for the ride, Fabala. Oh no problem, Nessie.” 

Nessa turned around and stuck out her tongue. “If you can converse with yourself, what do you need me for?” 

“Ungrateful brat.”

It was their way of saying goodbye. Being an only child Glinda still had no idea how sibling relationships worked. Especially those of the Thropps.

“Go kiss your girlfriend.” Nessarose waved without looking behind and went into the building. 

Elphaba turned around and smirked. They wrapped their arms around Glinda’s waist. “Well you heard her.”

Glinda raised her eyebrows teasingly. “Since when do you take orders from your sister, hm?”

“Wow. You ruined the moment.” But they smiled and kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry I didn’t notify you.”

“All is forgiven. You’re here now.”

It was a beautiful afternoon and without another word between them they had agreed to walk around campus. Glinda curled into Elphaba’s arm. She had done it so many times before it was like second nature. She had loved strolling around campus with Elphaba, back when they were still at Shiz. Near the Suicide Canal they settled down in the grass and soaked up the nice autumn sun while it was still warm.

Glinda leaned into Elphaba and smiled. “This brings back memories.” 

“Curled up in my arms after one of our many picnics at the Suicide Canal? Whatever gave you that idea?” Elphaba teased.

Glinda nudged them playfully. “Sentimentality, I suppose. My entire walk I’ve been seeing myself through a looking glass.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, like at the train station I remembered–” Glinda stopped dead in her tracks. How could she have let that one slip!

Elphaba let out a roaring laugh. “Are you referring to our ‘meet-cute’?”

Her entire face had turned bright red. “It wasn’t cute, I’m still embarrassed by it.” 

“Aw, don’t be. It was actually refreshing from all the usual green freak insults.”

“How? I thought you were going for a metaphor to reflect a greener planet! I didn’t even consider a green person existing. How is that less offensive?”

“True, but then you became so flustered when I looked at you funny. I’ll never forget how you threw a fist in the air and yelled ‘save the trees!’ to show your support.”

Glinda buried her face into her hands. “Oh god.”

Elphaba laughed. “It was cute” and put their face closer. “You’re cute.”

“You’re making it worse,” Glinda’s words sounded muffled through her hands.

They planted a comforting kiss in her hair. “We still ended up like this, so it couldn’t have been all that bad, right?”

“I suppose,” her embarrassment fading, Glinda let herself fall back on Elphaba’s shoulder. “I thought I’d never see you again after that. Big surprise waited ahead of me. God, I thought you were a senior or something. No other freshman I know functioned that entire first week, and there you were, already trying to make the world a better place.” 

She felt Elphaba smile. “I was such a determined little fuck back then. I didn’t even sign up. I got off the train and saw the group of volunteers and basically pestered them until they gave me a jacket and some flyers to hand out.”

“And they haven’t gotten rid of you since.”

“Nope. I’m the best thing that happened to them.”

Glinda paused, weighing her words before saying, “And to me.”

“Damn, you are sentimental today,” Elphaba noted. 

Glinda took Elphaba’s chin and slowly lowered it until their eyes were leveled. Just before their lips touched she whispered, “You’re ruining the moment.”

“Now we’re even,” Elphaba murmured, smiling into the kiss.

--

A/N: to be clear of all the dynamics (bc they are very entangled and a bit of a mess): - Glinda is asexual and through high school became very dependable on Fiyero (as he was the first person she ever came out too). Dependable to a point they couldn’t imagine their lives separately. So it falls more in a QPR relationship, where their platonic bond is unbreakable. - Elphaba is non-binary, bi and aromantic. Their relationship with Glinda is definitely the most couple-y, and can be classified as a “typical” romantic relationship. They also connected with Fiyero instantly and fell for his charms. - Fiyero is very poly because this boy’s got a lot of love to share! He’s also aro (which might seem contradictory, but it’s something I’ve seen a lot of overlap with, funnily enough!) and so his relationship are very platonic/sexual based. he has that sort of relationship with Elphaba, Crope&Tibbett and one or two other people outside the charmed circle. - Tibbet’s genderfluid and good with any pronouns and will raid Glinda’s closet on any occasion. In an open relationship with Crope and they obviously communicate incredibly well with this. - Crope’s just very gay.  - Boq is a trans guy and aro/ace. He’s the only not in a typical “relationship” and definitely isn’t looking for that either, but he can’t live without his chosen family. Together with Fiyero, they’re basically the “dads” of the group and keeps everyone in check. 

If anyone wants to run with these dynamics; you have my blessing! I won’t be continuing this story but if it inspired you feel free to build on it!

[korra-the-red-lion]

Unnatural Affairs. Chapter 19: A Witch is Needed.

(Lyn + Michael)

Lyn

I was flipping to the next page when I felt Ally shift next to me. I paused and looked down at her. Her face was relaxed, but I could the rawness around her eyes where she had been wiping at them last night. I wondered what had triggered her, but then I thought maybe that this had been slowly building up. She had been absent for most of the week. I saw her every now and then, but it was always brief. She hadn’t really been speaking to me or Michael. I asked her about one night, and she just said she and her roommate weren’t talking to one another. Finally, Michael figured out what happened and let me in on it. On top of all the crap that’s been going on with the ghosts, she was having alive people drama too.

The bruises were fading, but I could still see the finger imprints. It caused a burning feeling inside my chest of anger and shame when I saw them. I saw when Fredrik shoved her under the water, and Michael stabbed the dude with a bloody knife, and I tried whacking him off with my bat. But that’s about it. Next thing I knew, I was outside, and the gang is telling me I was possessed. Add that to the list of ‘Lyn’s traumas of her second year at MSU.’ And they say third year is the toughest year.

I put my book down in my lap, staring up at the ceiling. This whole thing was crazy, absolutely bonkers. I can’t believe that most of my semester has been taken up by all these crazy events. But it’s not like Ally’s presence called all this to the forefront. Was there always something going on, but I couldn’t see it? It was a strange feeling, lemme tell ya. I would say I felt a bit jealous that I couldn’t at least sense them like Michael could. It made me feel useless when it came to the actual ghost hunting. But if I couldn’t see them, then how was Fredrik visible to me? Huh, I never really thought about it before.

And it turns out that the ghost that Ally has been getting a lot of information from was a dead family member. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that, honestly. I didn’t see my dad’s family all that much. I saw old pictures of great grandpa George when he was young after he passed away. Him and his sister looked very similar, I remember thinking at the time. Both had the same slender faces and big ears that my dad had. Both of them even had the same freckles. But whereas my great grandpa looked very serious in his family photos, his sister had this amused smile on her face, as if she was in on a joke that no one else was. It was said that he really lost himself when she died, and he became a bitter person who blamed the justice system for never figuring what happened to her. He was the only one who thought something bad happened, while others thought she just ran away from home because she didn’t want to marry the man they set her up with. Hey, I could totally relate to that, homegirl.

Ally shifted again, knocking me out of my thoughts. She pressed right up against me, causing a smile to flutter onto my face. It just felt nice to have someone you cared about seeking you in their sleep. I lightly brushed my knuckles against her face, pushing the hair out it. A small smile appeared on her sleeping face.

Something warm bloomed in my chest as I stared down at her. Have I ever felt this way before? I tried to think about all my previous partners, but I couldn’t ever remember having a warmth like this. It was a…a weird feeling.

I turned my attention back to my book when I heard Ally groan as she woke up. She stretched her arms before snuggling back down. I could see her hazel eye peeking out from under the covers, watching me. I picked up the bottle of water from the floor and handed it to her. Ally took it gratefully. She cracked it open and took a small sip as she sat up next to me.

“How are you feeling?” I asked, watching her.

Ally took another sip, nodding as she did. She set it down after putting the lid back on it. “I feel better. Sorry about that…”

“Hey, don’t apologize to me,” I said, reaching over to tuck her hair behind her ear. “That’s something you should never apologize for.”

She looked embarrassed but nodded all the same.

“Did you want to talk about it?”

“Um…” she sighed, raking her hands through her hair. “I just…I dunno. Everything sort of hit me at once, I guess. I feel like I’m so close to figuring this all out, but there’s just something I’m missing. Then I also realized how far behind I was in all my schoolwork, so that didn’t help. Oh, and I had this horrible dream where I watched all of them die again.” She brought her knees up to her chest, looking defeated.

“Ally.” I bonked her lightly on the head. She looked over at me in surprise.

“What was that for?”

“You’re not doing this alone,” I said, cupping her cheek and rubbing my thumb against her skin. “Michael and I are helping you every step of the way. We, not you, are going to figure this out. Together. So, stop stressing about it so much, okay?”

She stared at me before sighing again. “I know, I know. It’s just- ugh, it’s just that sometimes my brain goes into overdrive, and I can’t stop it. Like, logically I understand what you’re saying, but my brain disagrees otherwise.”

“I get it,” I said. “I don’t understand it on a personal level, but I get it. Just remember that we’re here for you. I’m here for you. You’re not doing this alone,” I repeated firmly.

“Okay…thanks,” she smiled shyly.

“You’re welcome,” I kissed her on the forehead before resting mine against it. “Now, are you hungry or anything? We could go get breakfast.”

Ally said nothing as she stared into my eyes. Slowly, she nodded, rubbing our foreheads together. I made no effort to move, however. Neither did she. I felt her breath on my face as her breathing slowed down. Ally closed her eyes, her lips lightly brushing against mine. But just before she kissed me, I pulled away, stifling a giggle as I said, “Okay, let’s go then!”

Ally opened her eyes in confusion. “Did you just-? Did you seriously just tease a kiss?!” I couldn’t help but laugh out loud at the incredulous tone of her voice.

“Me? Teasing? I would never dream of it.” I couldn’t supress the broad grin that was growing on my face.

“You’re a horrible person, you know that right?” she grumbled as she crossed her arms.

“Maybe,” I teased with a smirk, “but I’m your horrible person.”

Ally fell back dramatically into the pillow. “You know what? I don’t want breakfast after all. I’m just going to lie here with Pickles. He’s the only one who cares about me.”

I laughed loudly as I bent over, kissing her on the lips. “Come on, you need to eat, you dingus.”

“I need one more to be fully charged, otherwise I can’t move,” she said seriously. I kissed her again, a bit longer this time before pulling away with a soft smile. She smiled back and nodded. “Okay, I’m good to go now. Thanks for the charge.”

“Anytime, luv.”

XXX

It was later that day that I sat with Michael in the library with newspapers, old articles, and messy notes spewed all around us. Trying to figure out what the fuck happened to Jeremiah Kinkly was driving us both to the brink of insanity. So far, despite hours of looking, we’ve found basically next to nothing.

Michael groaned as he crumbled up another note and dumped it in the bag we designated for that purpose. “I just don’t get it, it’s like this dude doesn’t even exist.”

“Maybe he doesn’t, and the universe is fucking with us,” I said dryly, not looking up from my laptop.

“That sounds like something the universe would do.”

Despite our joking, it was starting to feel hopeless. I told Ally she wasn’t allowed to help us with this today because she needed to catch up on schoolwork. She was sitting nearby and kept sneaking glances our way, but we both had put our foot down. She grumbled and complained but we stayed strong. I could feel her eyes on us now, but I ignored her. I didn’t want her helping at all. The whole thing was overwhelming her right now, and she needed a break from it for a little bit.

Michael sighed as he dragged over a book he took out. It was supposed to help with our Fredrik problem, according to him. Because we weren’t sure that he would disappear if we captured the killer, it was a precautionary measure. Except for one tiny problem: we had no idea how to do a spell. Michael had read through the book several times yet couldn’t find any solution that didn’t involve a witch. I mean, we already had half a dozen ghosts roaming around, so why not add a witch to the mix? Absolute insanity, that’s what this was.

He did mention heading down to the weird bookstore later and talking to the owner. Michael claims that she was basically a witch, so she might be able to help, or at least give us pointers. I’ve never stepped foot in that store, but I trusted his judgement. He was a good guy with a steady head on his shoulders, so he wouldn’t suggest it unless he thought there was a chance it would work.

Another few useless search results and I was starting to get annoyed. How the fuck was there nothing on this stupid man? You would think that someone who died on this cursed campus would show up somewhere. Michael was right, it was like he didn’t exist. But we had the DNA results, which meant that there should be proof somewhere that he was a real person.

We wanted to avoid asking Professor Kinkly about it. We didn’t know who this guy was, and we didn’t want to drag anyone else into this mess. Of course, that was a huge pain in the ass. I bet we wouldn’t be dragging our asses like this if we could ask him. Jesus Christ, I was about to murder someone.

I threw my head back, closing my eyes in annoyance. It felt pointless to keep looking, we’ve been at it for hours at this point. Maybe we should just cut our losses for now and move on to the next problem instead. Hell, that was what Michael was doing. I ran my hands down my face before adjusting myself back into searching position. The open Google tab looked as if it was mocking me. What a bastard.

I crossed my arms as I stared at the blank search box, racking my brains to figure if there was something I was missing. I tried every word combination I thought of. That hadn’t worked. I even tried to look him up in obituaries, but it seemed like he never got one. How could a man whose DNA just not be anywhere at all? It didn’t make sense. God, I wished I was a hacker, then I could go into a hospital or police database.

“You guys look like you need a break,” said Ally as she approached our table.

“Hey, you’re banned!” Michael pointed his finger at Ally. “This is blasphemous!”

She rolled her eyes playfully. “I just noticed how beat you looked. It might be worth it to stop for awhile, maybe even go for a walk.”

“That’s very ironic, coming from you,” I remarked. “You know?”

Ally held her hands up defensively. “It was just a suggestion. Maybe we could go to the store that Michael had mentioned?”

“What’s this ‘we’ stuff?” Michael raised his brows. “I literally just said you were banned. Weren’t you listening?”

“Hey, I need a walk too,” she laughed. “Plus, I’ve made great strides. I finished both my English and Psych work.”

“Damn, we’ve been doing this for a long time then,” I groaned, throwing my head back again.

Michael rapped his knuckles against the table. “Alright, we go to the store, then come back here. Ally’s not wrong, we’re pretty done. Maybe a change in scenery is something that we need. And,” he grinned at Ally, “since you did get a bit of work down, you can come.”

Ally gave an adorable fist pump as she grinned at me victoriously. I rolled my eyes, keeping my own smile off my face. “Just know I didn’t agree to this.”

“Good thing I didn’t ask you,” she snarked playfully.

Together, we quickly packed up our things and headed out.

XXX

Michael.

The bell didn’t tinkle when we walked in. I looked up in confusion and saw that it was taped down. That was strange.

The other strange thing was Talia wasn’t anywhere in sight. Maybe she was just in the back? I walked towards the counter, surprised to see someone else sitting there instead. It was Talia’s daughter, the one with a mane of black hair and spiked bracelets that looked like they belonged in Hot Topic. Actually, they probably were from there.

She was sitting on the stool with her elbows propped on the counter, reading a book of some sorts. She glanced up when I approached the counter, sighing as she closed the book.

“Can I help you?” she asked flatly.

“Uh…I was wondering if Talia was around, actually.” I looked around and saw Ally and Lyn staring at the petrified doll heads with curiosity and apprehension, respectively. “We just needed help with something.”

She looked around before saying bluntly, “Huh, looks like she’s not here. Have a nice day.” She went to open the book again.

“Well…it’s Katherine, right? Can you just tell her we stopped by? Oh, and I’m Michael, by the way.”

Katherine looked at me with a mix of annoyance and exasperation. “Yeah, I will. Goodbye now.” She went back to reading with a shake of her head.

I was about to leave when I noticed that she wasn’t just reading a regular novel. She was reading a spell book! That’s a very odd reading choice, but I ain’t judging. Instead, I put on my best smile and cleared my throat.

There was murder in her eyes as she looked up again. At this point, Ally had made her way while Lyn was looking at the stuffed bear head in confusion. She stood next to me as Katherine glared daggers at me. Her eyes flickered between the two of us before she heaved another great sigh.

“What do you people want? I already told you that mom wasn’t here,” she snapped.

“What are you reading?” I asked, gesturing to the book. Ally stared at it, her eyes bright with interest.

“A book.”

“But that’s not a normal book.”

“Why do you give a shit?”

“I just was wondering if you knew anything about witchcraft?”

She stared at me silently, her eyes narrowed. Oops, maybe that was too forward of me. After a few minutes of very tense silence, she dropped her shoulders slightly.

“Why?” Katherine crossed her arms, still glaring at me. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because,” Ally spoke up, “we’re trying to send a spirit back to wherever it’s suppose to be, and we need someone who understands spells and witchy stuff. We thought that asking the woman who owns this store would be our best bet.”

Doesn’t Ally respect that she’s banned from engaging in this stuff today? Clearly not, sheesh. I nodded in agreement, and added, “She’s been kinda helping us this whole time.”

Katherine pinched the bridge of her nose before sliding off the stool to stand. She leaned against the counter and appraised us both. Ally stared back, not breaking off eye contact while I maintained it the best I could.

“You’re crazy, the two of you,” she shook her head. “Mom is out of town for the day and asked me to watch over the store while she was out. Sorry, but she won’t be back until then, maybe even longer depending.”

I couldn’t hide the disappointment on my face. An extra day wasn’t that big a deal, but it still sucked that we came here for nothing. I was ready to leave when Ally got a strange look on her face. I looked at her with a frown, but she was still looking at Katherine. Lyn walked over, eyes flickering between the two women.

“What’s going on?” she whispered to me. I just shrugged my shoulders, not really sure myself.

Ally suddenly gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. She shook whatever that was off and said, “Well, why don’t you help us then?”

My jaw dropped open as Lyn frowned in confusion, having missed most of the conversation. Katherine looked just as surprised at the suggestion before she burst into laughter.

“That’s insane!” Katherine had a small smirk on her face until she saw Ally’s determined expression. “Wait, are you serious? You actually think I can help you?”

“Well, why not?” Ally said with a shrug. “I doubt your mom would have put you in charge of the store unless you could at least understand half the stuff in here. Plus, you were reading that spell book when we came in, and I’m guessing you’re not doing that for fun.”

Damn, Ally’s observation skills were on point yet again. Lyn looked silently impressed, wearing a smirk as she nodded her approval. Katherine still looked surprise, and maybe even a little unsure. She tugged at the end of her hair, staring at Ally warily.

“You are asking something of me that you can’t even prove,” she said slowly. “Who ever said magic is real?”

“Ghosts are,” said Ally bluntly, “and one of them was brought here somehow. Please, I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t sure.”

Katherine looked skeptical as she worked her fingers through her hair. “Well…that’s definitely a point. What is it you actually need from me?”

Ally beamed as she turned to me, indicating that I could do the explaining. Quickly, I tried my best to explain the whole Fredrik thing without going into too much detail, because at this point, we could write a novel with everything we had going on. Katherine listened, her face pinched with nervous energy. After I finished, she looked away, her expression contemplative.

“Okay…” she glanced back us briefly before diverting her attention again. “I need some time to think about it. That sounds really stupid and really dangerous. I’m not about to put myself in harm’s way just for some strangers. Now get out, I need to be alone right now.”

We left, making sure the door was closed behind us tightly. Katherine immediately locked the door behind us, flipping the sign to ‘close’ before heading back to the counter. We walked a little ways away before I whirled on my heel, staring at Ally in awe.

“How did you do that?” I asked in wonderment.

Ally shrugged as she reached for Lyn’s hand, interlacing their fingers. “I just guessed, honestly. There was something…hmm, strange? I’m not sure how to say it, but there was something strange about her… you know,” she waved her other hand around widely.

“No one knows what that means,” remarked Lyn.

She rolled her eyes in response. “I just felt something around her. I can’t really explain it. I think she’s going to help, though.”

“I hope you’re right,” I said. “I tried looking for other options, but I couldn’t figure out any other ways to send him back. It’s not great that we have to ask other people for help, but I think it should be okay. Just a quick spell and poof! He’s gone, hopefully back to where he belongs.”

Lyn pressed her fingers to her temple, messaging it lightly. “I can’t explain how happy I’ll be once this craziness is all over, you know? This whole thing just keeps unraveling more and more. It will be nice to hang out with you guys when it doesn’t involve murder and hauntings.”

Ally laughed, pressing her lips to Lyn’s knuckles. “Listen, you signed up for this. Ghosts are an everyday part of life for me.”

“I was also thinking of starting up a ‘Spook Searchers’ business after this case is all said and done,” I joked.

“You better change the fucking name, then,” said Lyn. “Because no offense to either of you, it’s terrible!”

We both gasp in mock indignation before the three of us burst into laughter. It felt good to laugh about all this. There have been some really heavy times for us, but so far, we’ve made it through it okay. I have to admit, the day I decided to share my umbrella with Ally was one of the best things I ever did. I really liked these girls, and I was happy about our friendship. I left all my friends and family back home in Victoria, so finding two people I really got along with was awesome.

XXX

We were back in the library, our energy renewed. Lyn ordered us pizza to share, though she put her foot down on Hawaiian pizza (even though it’s the most delicious). Well, I wasn’t going to argue too much, since most pizzas were delicious, and I was starving.

We ended up banishing Ally back to her old table, despite her protests. It wasn’t until the threat of no pizza was issued did she comply. Now she sat alone, grumbling under her breath as she worked on something for her Anthro class. She would be fine.

Us, on the other hand, might not be. Frustration was setting in again as we made barely any headway on the JK case. Lyn’s tapping was getting more aggressive as she searched up a bunch of things, glaring at the screen as if that would help reveal the secrets. Meanwhile, I was stuck on paper duty, and it was super boring. The only thing about a Kinkly that showed up was when Prof Kinkly got his job here at Mount Seamus. That was literally all I could find. Not very helpful at all.

A thought occurred to me, and it was a long shot. Lamar had gotten the results from somewhere. I glanced at the email again, wondering if maybe they had something we could work with. I sent the person who sent the email to Lamar with the results a message, asking if there was any photographic evidence of the DNA results. Maybe it would go nowhere, but it was better than doing nothing.

I bit my thumb, chewing on the nail as I flipped through other useless articles. I found my focus waning as I stared at the same sheet of paper for several minutes unmoving. My mind wandered to the ghosts. Would they just leave after we figured out who killed them? Probably, hey? It would be strange to not have Amelia in my thoughts anymore. I felt bad for her and the others too. It was a horrible thing to even imagine, being stuck in the place that you died in. I shuddered at the thought.

My mind then drifted to Katherine. She didn’t agree to help us, but she also didn’t say no. I mean, why though? It just seemed really weird that she didn’t outright refuse. And what did Ally mean by saying there was something strange about her? I didn’t notice anything out of the norm. Maybe she was picking up on something ghostly that I couldn’t sense? I think that would be a first.

Was it warm in here today? I felt warm, sitting here in the library chair. I looked over at Lyn, who was staring at her laptop screen with a look of pure resentment, as if she couldn’t believe the answers weren’t just popping out in front of her. The intensity of her stare used to unsettle me slightly, but I’ve grown used to it at this point. I don’t really remember much about her sister, the one who picked us up, but I wondered if she harboured the same intensity. It made me nervous to think of her parents.

I sighed, putting my arms behind my head. Maybe it was better to just call this night off now. Neither of us were getting anywhere, and I had zero focus suddenly. I wasn’t even sure Lyn was focusing. Ally was working away on her assignment, or so she claimed. Maybe she was sneakily lookin’ stuff up too. I smiled, thinking that is something she would do. I wish she would take a bit more care of herself, considering all the crap she’s been through as well.

I jumped in my seat when Lyn scrapped her chair back. She stood up and cracked her back and shoulders before looking at me. “I need to walk around a bit and grab something to drink. Do you want anything?”

“Mind just grabbing me a water?”

“Bottled water?” Lyn made a face. “I guess so.”

“What’s wrong with that?” I asked incredulously.

“Everything. Everything about bottled water is wrong,” huffed Lyn before shaking her head. “No, don’t do this, Lyn. Don’t get into it, it’s not worth it. Ally, do you want anything?”

Ally’s tired face looked up from her laptop at the sound of her name. “Maybe a hot chocolate, if you don’t mind.”

Lyn nodded. “Sure thing. One hot chocolate and one destroyer of the planet, coming up.”

“Hey!” I protested. “I bet those coffee cups are just as bad!”

She stuck her tongue at me as she grabbed her wallet and headed up the stairs. I shook my head in disbelief. Ally caught my eye and chuckled under breath, her shoulders rising in rhythm.

I leaned back in my chair and frowned at Ally. “I think we should stop for the night, honestly. We’re literally getting nowhere.”

“What’s this ‘we’ stuff?” Ally said in a tone that mocked my voice from earlier. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to help, since you banned me and all that jazz.”

“Stop be so dramatic,” I said with a laugh.

“I will never, ever, stop.” She smiled at me before slumping down in her seat. “But in all realness, I agree that you should stop if you feel stuck. It’s probably just so much garbage to sift through. Maybe a good night’s rest will be just what you need.”

“Maybe.” I ran my hands over my face. I hated the bristles that were growing out slowly on my chin right now. Movember was a great cause but man, was my face itchy. Curse my Asian heritage and its inability to grow facial hair in comfortable way. Wait…did anyone grow facial hair in a comfortable way?

Lyn came clomping back down with the drinks in hand. She tossed the bottle of water at me, then set Ally’s drink down softly in front of her. Ally thanked her with a smile while Lyn sat back down, a tea in hand. She took a small sip, giving out a sigh of contentment.

“I needed this,” she groaned.

“We should stop for now,” I suggested. I cracked open the lid and took a swig.

“Probably,” she amended. “I felt like I’ve gone in circles tryna find anything on this idiot.”

I nodded in understanding. We had been at this literally all day, except for a little break. Maybe it was just a matter of not looking in the right spot or something like that. Whatever it was, it was driving us both up the wall. There was no point in continuing if we were just knocking out heads against the table.

But just before we started to pack up, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I took it out and noticed it was a response from the people who sent the results. I opened the email and saw that they included an attachment. Suddenly my hands were shaking in anticipation and excitement as I clicked the file. What I saw nearly made me drop my phone.

“Michael?” Ally asked puzzled. “Is everything okay?”

My words were failing me as I nodded slowly. Lyn got up and looked over my shoulder and her jaw dropped in surprise. Finally, Ally had enough and came over to see what all the drama was about. She took the phone from my hand and stared at the picture. Her face paled as her eyes widened in shock.

“No way…” she whispered. She put the phone face up on the table, so the man in the photo was looking up at us with a charming smile on his face. The photo must have been taken in the ’50s or something, but it was hard to say for certain. But it wasn’t the age of the photo, it was the person in it that was shocking us all.

Jeremiah Kinkly looked exactly like Robert Kinkly, our drama professor.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 114 prt 1

114

It snowed as they slept, a tangle of limbs. Lance fell asleep in the bath, Keith carrying him back to the bed where he stripped off the dirty quilt and roused Lance enough to coax him under the blankets. They’d woken some time before dawn, the sex slow, sleepy and sweet, before falling back to sleep holding each other. Waking the following morning, Lance was shaking with the cold. Keith tucking the blankets around him as he fetched their gear from outside. Everywhere was dyed white. The lights on in the main cabin, but it was too early to human. Keith grabbing up their things and darting back inside, it was fucking freezing out there, barely past dawn. Sleepily Lance called to him

“Babe?”

“I’m here”

He wasn’t about to wander off naked

“It’s cold”

“I know, I’m coming back to bed now”

“‘kay... miss you”

Lance was still cold when it came time actually get up. Keith running them a warm bath. His boyfriend clinging to him as he carried him into the bathroom. He liked Lance being clingy, but those fingers of his were no joke. Getting Lance into the bath, his boyfriend whined softly when Keith didn’t join him right away. Keith hadn’t had his coffee yet, the fact Lance wasn’t dropped was a birthday miracle. Maybe he was magically cured... Nah. That wasn’t going to happen over night

“It’s alright, babe. I’m going to grab us some clothes to wear”

“Mmm, okay... but don’t be too long”

Heading back into the bedroom, Keith dumped their things out on their bed, finding Lance had hidden his present to him under all their clothes. He didn’t want to open it. Not yet. Not until he was awake to function. It was hard to ignore though. Lance had really nice handwriting, his name on a little gift card signed from his boyfriend with a heart. Forcing himself to grab them something to wear, he came back to the bathroom with the gift still on his mind. In his absence Lance started dozing in the tub... looking adorable as he did, surrounded by the bubbles that came from the provided body wash.

Joining Lance led to bath sex... Lance’s skin smooth and oily from the bubble bath, his boyfriend whining softly at the hot water slipping inside of him, not that that stopped him. It was slow sex with plenty of kisses and Lance doing the hard work. It’d taken him three and a half weeks to be intimate with Lance again. He regretted not being ready sooner, especially in the wake of Lance’s breakdown, yet his boyfriend had calmed a lot since he’d started rubbing and touching his stomach more. They were being those kinds of parents, taking photos weekly as Lance’s stomach began to grow. Not that you could tell at the moment. The small amount of pudge still looked as if Lance had eaten too much, not that he was carrying a baby. He got what Lance meant about being physical, but he was also kind of glad they hadn’t rushed into immediately upon finding out they were expecting.

Lance was more awake after they’d had sex. His boyfriend dried his hair, then wanted to dry him down, peppering kisses to Keith’s scars. Lance never pushed on them, instead he seemed to know that some had stories Keith wanted forget. His kisses like he was trying to heal the hurt behind them. When they were dressed, and Lance had had his vitamin injection, Keith carried him to the main cabin seeing they’d left Lance’s boots their the previous night, Lance holding on for dear life as Keith’s pre-coffee clumsy was strong.

In the main cabin breakfast was underway. Pidge nursing her coffee as she sat at the dining table. Kosmo was already making a pest of himself as Hunk and Shay made breakfast, his dog lolling his head back to acknowledge their existence but the call of bacon was too strong. Matt and Rieva were in front of the fireplace. Shiro and Curtis cuddles up on the sofa. This was nice... nice, but Keith felt kind of left out seeing they were the last to arrive

“We thought about sending a rescue party to find you”

Lance climbed out of his hold, shivering as his feet touched the cold wood floors

“Totally my fault. Needed a bath to warm up... stupid snow”

Lance flashed their friends a smile. Keith feeling worse about things seeing it was fake... Keeping up appearances was hard and unfair. Shiro chuckled

“It’s a cold one. Matt and Rieva were straight in front of the fireplace. There’s coffee left for Keith”

Lance kissed his cheek

“Here that, babe, you better get some coffee in you while I put my boots back on”

“Can you two not be gross before breakfast?”

Keith rolled his eyes at Pidge. She was just jealous she wasn’t here with her partner. The thought sticking with him as Lance walked over to the fireplace. Pidge wasn’t dating anyone. He hoped she didn’t feel any less wanted there, because he wanted her there

“Leave Keith alone. He’s allowed to be gross in his birthday weekend”

Flipping Shiro off, Keith cautiously shuffled into the kitchen, Shay an angel as she passed him a cup of coffee, giggling at the happiness on his face

“Shiro already warned me I better have it ready”

“Babe, he’s as bad as Pidge when doesn’t have her”

Shay giggled at being called “babe”. Lance was right. Hunk and Shay were very well suited together. Taking his first mouthful of coffee, he found it lukewarm, meaning he could drain the whole cup. Hunk noticing

“There’s coffee next to the kettle. The milk’s in the fridge. It’s lactose free, Lance made sure to tell us repeatedly, as if we forget”

“Thanks, guys. You didn’t have to go to the effort”

Pidge snorted from the table

“Dude, you’re our friend. We do nice things for the people we actually like. Everyone else can go fuck themselves”

Matt and Shiro both called out in synch

“Language!”

The kind of timing that couldn’t be brought. Grumpily Pidge leaned back in her chair, cradling her coffee

“Blow me”

“Blow you what?”

Matt was the only one game enough to mess with her. Keith making for the coffee and the kettle, dying for another cup and this time hopefully warm. This wasn’t a bad way to spend a birthday at all... Not now he had caffeine starting to drive the blood out of his caffeine system.

Feeding Lance for the morning proved slightly difficult. Shay was in the kitchen, meaning he could go pouring blood into Lance’s morning shake. Instead he had to be covert. Making like he was putting away the milk, he hovered near the fridge, pouring out too much blood into the shake cup. He then had to use both hands and some very awkward body language to hide the contents as he added the shake powder. On a cold day it was probably better for Lance to have more blood than he needed, though he didn’t know if it’d make his boyfriend short the rest of their stay. Topping the shake up with water, he snapped the lid into place, shaking it as he carried it over to Lance who was sitting near the fire now he had his boots on. A normal person would be sweating from the heat

“Babe, food”

Lance eyed the shaker bottle with defeat. Matt shaking his head as the concoction

“I don’t think I want to ask”

“Have to hide breakfast somehow”

“Leave him alone to eat in peace”

“But, babe...”

“You finish that sentence, Matthew Holt, and I’ll put you out in the snow to pee like Kosmo”

Matt pouted at Rieva. Lance shooting Rieva a smile. Keith not jealous... He wasn’t. He simply needed more coffee

“Am I making pancakes?!”

Calling out from where he’d been frying eggs and bacon, Hunk laughed as they all called back “yes”. They really felt like a weird family... a weird family that he wasn’t sure he deserved.

With the baby, work and Lance, letting himself be distracted from his birthday blues was easier this year. Lance knew his past, knew not to push and when he needed that push. Shiro hadn’t pushed... Keith still feeling down about it especially between the ultrasound and the weekend, the feeling kind of like nothing good could possibly come from it and it was all going to be a big joke. That everyone was faking caring and there’d be no cabin. He felt dumb for doubting his friends... but some things were so ingrained that all the love in the world from his friends’ wasn’t going to magically break down those walls or heal the damage in an instant. All of these people being here for him scared him. He liked all of them... and they all liked him... he found a place here and he never wanted to lose it.

Settling down at the dining table with this cup of coffee, Pidge punched him in the arm

“What did I do now?”

“Birthday punches. Normally you punch the person however many times they are old, but I need more coffee for that”

“Thanks... I think?”

“You’re welcome. I’ve got your present in my bag. What did Lance give you?”

“I haven’t opened it yet...”

“Shit. I could have gotten in first... Guys, Keith hadn’t opened anyone’s present yet! He’s still fair game”

Was that a thing?

“Pidge, leave him alone. Besides, I booked the holiday!”

“You just want Keith all to yourself. I’m into your McClain!”

“He is my boyfriend!”

“Finders keepers, losers weepers”

“Merp!”

Pidge flipped Lance off. Curtis laughing at the pair of them

“With your compatibility, I am sure you would find Keith most agreeable to keep. Though he is more compatible with Lance. You’d both murder each other over the first cup of coffee for the day”

Pidge wrinkled her nose

“If I have to share my coffee like that, you can keep him”

Lance enthusiastically claiming him

“Done! He’s mine! But I left his present in his bag...”

He didn’t need presents... He didn’t need anything. Being here with them... he’d never had this like this...

“Guys... you don’t have to give me presents. You being here is enough”

Pidge raised an eyebrow

“Dude. It’s free stuff”

“I don’t need a lot”

She wasn’t backing down

“Shut up. You do too. Now drink your coffee birthday boy”

Breakfast was loud. There were discussions and firm plans put in place for a snowball fight, and something about maybe making snow men, Hunk bragging a little about his skills. Lance hadn’t taken the delicious scents as well as the others, his boyfriend slipping off to throw up, missing the second half of things before Keith went to check on him. Hunched over the toilet, Lance smiled at him weakly

“You shouldn’t be worrying on your birthday”

“I came to check you’re okay”

“Better... just letting the cabin air a bit before... nope... never mind”

Throwing up again, his boyfriend weakly gripped the toilet as he did. Keith hated seeing him like this, and he hated he couldn’t do anything about Lance’s morning sickness. Sitting himself down behind Lance, he wrapping his arm around him, rubbing the taunt muscles of his stomach

“I feel like I should apologise”

Lance hacked and spat, sounding throughly done as he did, before letting himself relax back against Keith

“You don’t need to. You’ve done nothing wrong”

“Still...”

“Nope. It’s your birthday. None of that”

“You’re being stubborn again”

“Because I’m okay. I feel better than I have in a while... other than this...”

“This is kind of my fault”

“It takes two to make a macaroon. You should be more worried about Pidge in a snow ball fight. She shows no mercy, even to her team”

“She did seem pretty keen”

“Personally I think she can’t wait to rain hell down on Matt”

“I can see that. Are you up for it?”

“Traipsing around in the cold? Ugh... maybe I’ll umpire”

“We need one?”

“You know Pidge will accuse Matt of cheating. This wasn’t supposed to... I mean... I didn’t think it’d snow so soon”

“It’s fine...”

“Mmmm... maybe. No one made a fuss, did they?”

“Nah. Shay’s the only one who doesn’t know human food doesn’t stay down”

“I really want to bring her in to sign a non-disclosure, but she deserves a life where she doesn’t have to fear the dark”

“I think she could handle it... Hunk wants to tell her”

“It’s not fair on him”

They both fell silent for a moment, Keith rubbing at Lance’s belly. This birthday was so weird. His next birthday he’d be father...

“Babe... I know birthdays aren’t the best for you, but I hope you still make some good memories of today”

“I already am... I... kind of feel weird having everyone together because of me”

“That’s because we all love you, silly. You deserve every happy moment”

“I don’t know about that”

“Then it’s a good thing that I do. You, Keith Kogane, are loved. Very much... I’m just sorry that I’m tired”

“Was last night too much?”

“Last night was perfect. So was this morning... and this morning again... you’re a total horn dog”

“I can’t help it... you’re so cute”

Lance blushed softly. Keith’s heart doing flips

“Should I be worried you’re going to gobble me up?”

“Maybe. But if you don’t want to... I mean...”

“I like having sex with you. Even if I did worry I was going to piss myself in your lap”

“Babe, I wouldn’t really... No. You need to feel safe with me”

“I do... last night was pretty close though”

“Let me know in future. I’d rather stop than hurt you”

“I know. I think maybe I’m done. My stomach feels like it’s settling”

“That’s good. I worried I put too much blood in your shake”

“You did, but it’s alright. I needed the energy boost”

“Should I be worrying about that?”

“Nah. I’m sleepy for all the right reasons... and the fucking snow”

Keith chuckled

“You’re so much like Mami. Her showing up bundled up like that”

“Mmm... I’m definitely a tropical vampire. It was hard to hide it all when Pidge and Hunk didn’t know. Hunk used to fret so much over how cold I was...”

“I’m fretting over how cold you are”

“Ahhh, but this is perfect weather for snuggling with the birthday boy, after he wins the snow fight”

“If you’re not...”

“Don’t you finish that. I’m your boyfriend, not your keeper. Have fun with our friends. I know how much you missed them. I’m not going to be lonely laughing at you guys”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep. I’ll just borrow someone’s phone and take photos”

“You could borrow my camera”

Lance raised an eyebrow, Keith not sure why

“Your camera is your baby”

Oh... that was why

“It’s not like you’re going to drop it”

“I don’t want to risk breaking it”

“You won’t. I’ll set it up so all you have to do is point and shoot”

Lance groaned at him

“They’re going to awful compared to your skills”

“I’m not that skilled”

“Babe. Love of my life. Anger loaf and lover of Macaroon. You really are. I was totally thinking about getting you camera stuff for your birthday, and I mean, I know I remember stuff, but then they went off and started in talking in some weird language with exposure and angles and it was complicated”

“Not as complicated as legal jargon”

“Oh, that’s pretty up there... but give me a day in the courtroom over deciphering camera talk”

“That’s because you’re not used to it”

“Does that mean you’ll teach me?”

“If you want to learn”

Lance chuckled

“Not really. I’m happier watching you. Okay, let’s get off the floor. My butt’s going numb with the cold”

“We can’t have anything happening to that arse of yours. It’d be butt a tragedy”

Lance’s glare said he wasn’t amused, Keith on the hand thought himself funny. For two people so close, he couldn’t believe how calm Lance was taking things when compared to him losing it over finding Lance the perfect last minute gift. Next year he was going to be prepared.

*

Lance wasn’t imagining things. Shay kept looking at him like she wanted to say something, the looked away when their eyes met. They’d talked a little in the car, Shay asking how he’d been, the others must have told her he’d been, or more likely Hunk had turned to her upset over what had happened. Thanks to his life being flipped upside down again, he’d barely seen Shay as much as he used to. It sucked... and the snow really sucked.

Sitting on the veranda of the cabin, Lance watched the others playing in the snow. Keith hadn’t been keen, then had been ganged up on by Curtis and Shiro, his boyfriend tackled down and snow put down the back of his shirt. For all his yelling and complaining, Keith was laughing as hard at as everyone else. The air was still cool, but the snow had already begun to melt to slush. Kosmo was so confused to what to do, running after the balls of snow only to watch them disappear, or even worse for the poor doggo was when he thought he’d caught them onto find them vanishing like magic. He made his displeasure know as he barked, bounding around with everyone. This was how life should be. No shitty vampire “war”, and now worries. He truly hoped this would be the first in a long line of happy birthdays for his boyfriend. This time next year they’d be parents to a little Macaroon that really needed a better name.

Playing in the snow resulted in an early lunch. Lance skipping real food for a shake, the smells of breakfast still in the air, and he wanted to make an effort to keep something down. Lunch was less formal than breakfast, not that breakfast was formal. Deciding on snacks, they lounged around, Keith not keeping him warm as his boyfriend was damp from Shiro smooshing snow into his hair. Each time he went in for a hug, Lance sank back into the sofa wishing he had a blanket

“Lance, I have to ask, what’s with the shakes. You didn’t even have a proper breakfast?”

Shay finally spoke what was on her mind. Their friends all looking momentarily panicked

“I’m fine... just you know, dieting and stuff”

Shay giggled at him

“Dieting? If you diet any harder there’ll be. Nothing left of you”

“She’s right you know, you’re a twig”

Fucking Keith, Lance huffing

“I’m a manly twig. Are you’re cold. Stop trying to squish me with your coldness”

Keith laughed at him, laying back against him with that cold wet hair of his. All of them should have gone for hot showers and warm dry clothes

“You love me anyway”

“I do, but if you keep this up I might have to run away to Cuba until spring... I’m not made for cold weather”

Matt cackled at him. Stupid werewolves and their high body temperatures

“Dude, it’s not that cold. What are you going to be like when winter really sets in”

“I’m going to hibernate. Build myself a little Lance burrito and hibernate”

Keith kissed his cheek, ignoring Pidge pulling a face as he did

“Can I join in?”

“Not if you’re going to bring the cold with you. I should have grabbed my heat packs from the bag”

“Want me to grab them?”

Keith was too sweet

“Nah, just keep your frostbite to yourself. Honestly, the lot of you should have had showers and changed”

“Your age is showing, dad”

Pidge giggled at her comment. Lance sorely tempted to flip her off

“Someone’s gotta be the sane and reasonable one around here”

“As if you’re sane. I know you too well, Gremlin”

“Saner than you”

“Riiiight... I’m not the one who developed a macaroon fetish after getting out of hospital”

Lance bit down a laugh, relieved to know they didn’t suspect macaroon was a baby and not a dessert snack

“That’s right. You were in hospital. Hunk said it was an accident. Are you okay?”

Why was Shay bringing that up now?

“Yeah. I had a stomach bug and fainted. A whole lot of worry for nothing”

“Plus he’s been working in Platt...”

Hunk was trying to help, but how was he supposed to explain that? Especially when Shay looked so interested

“You’re a lawyer, right?”

[blake-belladonna-defence-force]

You Unlocked Me

@wasauchimmeah asked for a fic of Blake discovering that Yang made that photo she took her lock screen.

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Looks like we’re working with Marrow again.”

Yang shot her partner a side glance as they walked to the airship.

“Yup. If he tries to tell me who I should and shouldn’t pair up with…” She grumbled, eyes narrowing at Marrow’s back.

“He means well.” Blake sighed wearily. “But if I had one lien for every time I’ve been told that we don’t work well together, I could retire.”

Yang rolled her eyes when Blake giggled at her own joke, dork that she was.

“I know that we’re pretty different. But I think that works well for us. We pick up where the other lacks and cover each other’s backs, right?” She asked, gently bumping Blake with her hip.

“How poetic of you, Yang.”

“Can you not be a butt for five minutes?”

“No. Next question?”

Yang gave a playful growl and pulled her friend into a firm side hug.

“Gremlin.” She murmured into her hair affectionately.

Yang found it incredibly hard to pretend to be mad at Blake. Not when that giggle cracked through all of her acts and melted her heart. Not when Blake sounded so alive and light and happy.

As they made their way into the airship and sat down in their seats, Yang kept her arm over Blake’s shoulders and in return, Blake kept an arm around Yang’s waist. The casual, affection between them and how natural it felt was a welcome surprise.

“Got that, girls?” Marrow asked as he finished his briefing, chest puffed out. Yang snorted and moved away from Blake to lean on the table.

“Won’t be a problem.” She sighed, smirking when she heard Blake shift in her seat.

“Mhmm.” Blake hummed, an obvious smile in her voice. “Get in…”

“Take some names…” Yang added as Blake leaned on the table next to her.

“And kick some ass.” Both girls finished as Marrow rubbed his eyes.

“… why do I have babysit you two?” Marrow grumbled unhappily. “You both have an attitude.”

“At first glance, yes, we do.” Blake said and when Yang turned to look at her, the other woman’s ears were pricked forward and golden eyes narrowed. “But when you look beneath the surface, you might find something very different. Like, for example, judging our fighting styles before really seeing us in action.”

Marrow flailed for a moment before sighing, throwing his arms up and walking out of the room.

“Well, he’s right about the attitude problem.” Yang teased, laughing when Blake smacked her shoulder.

The two leaned back in their chairs and waited for the trip to be over. Blake, naturally, had a book while Yang was on her scroll, getting to know the new system.

But Yang found herself distracted by her lock screen photo.

It was at graduation and she had Blake pulled into her side for it. But there had been one photo out of the series she had taken that she adored. It was before Blake realised what Yang was doing. Her gaze was on Yang, expression soft. Her smile was so sweet and genuine, as though being by Yang made her truly happy. As if there was no place she’d rather be than by Yang’s side. It succeeded in making Yang’s heart melt. She had no clue what Blake felt for her but she at the very least knew that she mattered to Blake.

“Yang?”

Yang let out an uncharacteristic squeal when Blake spoke, her scroll flying from her hand only to be caught by Blake.

“Oh!” Yang nearly smacked her head against the table at Blake’s surprised tone. This was embarrassing! “Yo- you made it your lock screen.” Blake sounded a little awed.

Yang refused to look at Blake. If she ignored it, the problem would go away. Right?

“You’re embarrassed.” And now Blake sounded amused. “How cute.”

“Shut your up.” Yang muttered, head turned away. She risked a glance at Blake and noticed a fond smile being directed at her scroll, a faint blush covering her cheeks.

“I’m sorry. I’m just… curious as to why.” Blake said quietly, sending her an apologetic smile.

“Can you blame me?” Yang huffed, crossing her arms. “You just… seemed so at ease and happy. So of course I made it my lock screen.” She muttered.

“Oh.” Blake uttered quietly. “That… means something to you?”

Yang snapped her head around and stared at a slightly flustered Blake in disbelief.

“Of course it does!” She said indignantly, turning in her seat to face Blake. “I want you feel happy, Blake. I want you to feel safe and at ease. And it makes me happy to see you like that.” She finished, cheeks warm and nervously fiddling with her hair.

“I-“ Blake’s voice cracked for a moment before she tried again. “I always feel like that wit-with you. Safe. At ease.” She said quietly. “I just feel… happier with you.” Blake added in a near whisper, cringing slightly as though unsure how her admission would be taken.

Yang swallowed thickly and leaned towards Blake, pressing their foreheads together affectionately.

“I’m glad. I feel the same way about you.” She whispered, taking Blake’s hands in her own.

Blake took a shaky breath and then, Yang felt her own be taken away when Blake pressed her lips to the corner of Yang’s mouth gently before pulling back and looking at her, unsure and almost seeming afraid.

“Was that okay?” She asked, voice small and ears twitching nervously.

“Yeah.” Yang murmured, keeping eye contact as she brought one of Blake’s hands up to lay a soft kiss against the inside of her wrist. “It is.”

There was something here. Something new and thrilling and a little scary. But it was something that they would face together.

After all they’d been through, there was something that Yang has learned; that the one thing she could count on, was that she could count on Blake.

[adarlingwrites]

Absolution

Summary:

noun: formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment

The Capital Wasteland lauded the Lone Wanderer as a hero, a Messiah, a savior who's willing to give her life for the Good Fight. Beyond the legends, the propaganda, and the mythification that surrounded her legacy, there is only one person who knew her bare soul. She gave him his absolution, and now he will fight for hers.

V

February 5, 2278.

The doctor’s words sank in. No. It’s the other way around. I have no one else but her.

After that first incident with the Brotherhood, I had been more vigilant in protecting Percy more than ever. Dr. Li and the few scribes she had authorized are the only people allowed inside Percy’s room, and the scribes who are allowed in need to be accompanied by the doctor at all times, never unsupervised. There were people all over the wasteland whose lives she touched that wanted to see her. Some of the teenagers she helped in Big Town came by yesterday but they were turned away. Moira Brown, the annoying scientist who runs Craterside Supply in Megaton, came by too. She wasn’t allowed inside. Less work for me.

Dr. Li was in the middle of taking Percy’s blood pressure when the intercom crackled. “Dr. Li, there’s some kid insisting that they see Percy Zhou. I’m telling him to leave but he’s persistent.”

“Not another wastelander wanting to see her. It’s the fourth time today,” Dr. Li sighs, walking towards the intercom. “I thought I made myself clear the first time. No visitors.”

Then, the boy’s voice comes in, accompanied with a dog’s bark. “Hey! Don’t you know who I am? I’m the Butch DeLoria! Percy and I grew up together in the Vault! We’re even in a gang together! Let me i-”

“Get off that! Dr. Li should I-”

“He’s being truthful,” I finally say when the doctor starts massaging her temples.

“You know who he is? Can he be trusted?”

I weigh my options. On one hand, he can be, and he brought Percy’s dog with him. On the other hand, I would have to put up with that obnoxious piece of shit again.

“Yes.”

The doctor leans into the intercom. “Send him in.”

The door swings open and the Brotherhood grunts shove the guest in. He looks exactly the same as the first time I saw him, save for the wasteland grime and the white shirt and jeans he had in place of his vault suit underneath his leather jacket, identical to the one Percy wears when she’s not in her armor. Comb in hand, the pretty boy greaser fixed up his stupid pompadour. Percy’s dog bounds towards me, panting and wagging his tail.

Maybe this visit wouldn’t be so unpleasant after all.

“I said watch the hair, goddammit,” he snarls at the tin cans. They just shrugged and left.

“And who are you?” Dr. Li cuts in, holding a medical clipboard with a stern expression on her face. It resembles Percy’s, at times. Honestly, it’s weird.

“Butch DeLoria, y’know, the new barber in Rivet City? Percy’s gang leader? Anyway, where’s Percy? I brought Dogmeat with me, I thought that he’d- oh. Damn.”

DeLoria shut his damn mouth up when he saw Percy lying unconscious on the gurney, tubes attached to her body and living on life support. Her skin, though now free of burns, is still ghostly pale, and her lips still tinged blue. Her hair stopped falling off, but she still lost clumps. Breathing faint, still bleeding in some places, but alive.

“Perce, what happened to you?” he mumbles, walking over to her. His face sags and so does his shoulders. Pretty boy reached out to touch her, but I placed an arm to hold him back, and shook my head. Dogmeat sniffs his mistress' hand and I hold him off as well, which earned me a whine.

“Hey, what’s the big idea?”

“Her immune system is still compromised,” Dr. Li speaks up, wedging herself between Percy and us, and she puts her gloves on.

“Whaddaya mean, doc?”

“Persephone is suffering from aplastic anemia due to the radiation exposure damaging her bone marrow. It means her red blood cells, white blood cells, and platelet count are plummeting. Her body is too weak to ward off even the most benign infections. Platelet transfusions and antibiotics keep her protected but we can never be too careful. It’s miraculous she’s still alive and recovering well for someone who was exposed to a lethal dose of radiation.”

“Damn, doc, English please.” The greaser is starting to get on my nerves, and the doctor’s too. Secretly, I had hoped she would throw him out.

“She is vulnerable and you can kill her with your germs. Now please, one of the scribes will come in soon to clean and disinfect her bedpan and I need to administer some medication. Privacy would be appreciated.”

“Oh. Um. Okay. I’ll just hang with Charon here,” Butch replies. His shoulders sag even further.

“Charon, if you could please ensure that our guest behaves himself so I can tend to Persephone, it would be appreciated,” Dr. Li tells me.

Dammit.

For the first time since she was admitted, I left Percy’s room. Usually, I’d just turn around when the scribes come to clean up after her. Now, I’m stuck with this ass. I’m not sure if I should be relieved that he’s not being himself. The two of us sat in silence on a bench nearby, a seat apart, where Dogmeat sat down. The dog’s resting his head on my lap, and I pet his scarred face, remembering how Percy cried when we almost lost him to a deathclaw in Olney. I settled in my seat. Greaser boy didn’t.

“Hey,” he finally breaks the silence, much to my dismay. I’m not in a conversational mood. I just want to watch over my partner.

“Look man, I know you’re not much of a talker, but I need to get this out,” Butch speaks up, staring at his feet. “I don’t know if Percy ever talked about me, but, I’ve been an ass to her. I hurt her when we were kids, and I hurt her a lot.”

Pretty boy sniffs, lights a cigarette, and offers one to me as well. I take it, and he lights it for me. “Somehow she still had it in her to forgive me for being an ass and we became partners in crime. Then she loved me, trusted me, and I threw that away. Fuck, I’m surprised she still let me back into her life as a friend.”

“Where are you going with this?”

Silence.

DeLoria glares at me, a look of regret and envy in his eyes. What the hell?

“I saw how you look at her.”

“What.” I didn’t mean to say it out loud.

“I had a hunch her joke about you being her new boyfriend wasn’t one. I should be insulted that Percy would rather be with a ghoul than me, but hey, as long as she’s happy huh?”

“What the fuck are you talking about.” The words were bitter and flat, coming from my mouth.

“Wait, I thought you two were together together.”

“What.”

DeLoria groans and palms at the back of the nape. “Man, Perce almost broke my jaw when I called you a zombie in the vault, remember? You two are obviously tight, then some of those Brotherhood assholes were talking about how she’s riding ghoul dick. I thought I put two and two together.”

I couldn’t help myself. I stood up and grabbed him by the collar, fuming. The cigarette falls from his mouth as I push him against the wall. “My partner is unconscious, barely alive, and a distasteful comment about her is the last thing I want to hear.”

I wanted to break his jaw for real. The kid smells like aftershave, cigarette smoke, and fresh, adrenalized sweat. All of the false bravado he had drained from his face.

“Whoa, calm down! Don’t shoot the messenger, geez. I’m an ass, but I’d be the last to talk shit about Percy. Not after what she’s been through. Take it out on the Brotherhood, not me!”

“What else are they saying?”

“Well, one of them called you a freak, a zombie, a cradle-robbing corpse, a-”

“I do not concern myself with what they say about me. What did they say about my partner?”

“They called her a bleeding heart, a ghoul fucker and a mutant lover, I don’t know, dammit. I just got here, remember?”

I let him go before I hurt him with my misplaced anger. We pick up our fallen cigarettes. DeLoria straightens his jacket.

“Man, you’re too intense. Chill, won’t you?” He tosses a stick of bubblegum to me and I catch it with one hand. “Here. I was supposed to bring ‘em for Percy but, yeah. I didn’t know she ain’t awake. Guy on the radio just said that she’s alive thanks to you.”

I grunted in acknowledgement, and unwrapped the bubblegum. Damn sugar is going to rot my teeth, and I’m fortunate enough to still have most of them, but I couldn’t help it. It’s a habit I picked up from travelling with my partner. I pop it in my mouth and sit back down on the bench, contemplating.

What DeLoria told me explains the weight behind Li’s words when she said that she didn’t care what the nature of my relationship with my partner was. Percy cleaned up the wasteland, started the damn purifier, and almost died as a result, and she receives not a single ounce of respect. Just because she chose to be associated with me.

I can’t help but resent the Brotherhood even more. Ungrateful bastards.

“Dammit, I’m not good with this heart-to-heart bullshit. I don’t care, just… never stop taking care of Percy, okay?”

I nod at him. He's resting his head on his hands. “Screw it, I’m off. I’ll try to visit again soon. I’ll leave the dog here. If- when she wakes up, tell her I’ll do her hair for her. It’s a mess.”

DeLoria finally stands up and dusts his jacket. He walks away wordlessly, head hung low on his shoulders.

Once again, I’m left with my thoughts.

I pondered on the rumors about our relationship.

Percy is the first friend I made in a long time. My condition did not bother her. She went out of her way to put any bigot in their place, even when their words had no effect on me. She shared with me her bubblegum, Nuka-Cola, her books, the roof over her head, and a whole lot more. She’s my first employer who treated me as an equal, and the only to grant me freedom from my contract.

Percy cannot be harboring feelings for an old, damaged ghoul like me. Hell, her ex-boyfriend is a pretty boy. I can’t fucking compete with that. She, as Carol said, is a pretty, young smoothskin. A happy future with a smoothskin spouse is what she deserves. A liaison with me would be terrible for her. Ghouls already face enough bigotry on a daily basis. Merely being accused of fucking one can have dire consequences for a smoothskin. Bigots will lynch her, whether I did touch her or not.

She doesn’t deserve that.

She deserves better than me.

I crushed the cigarette under my heel and grimaced. I went back inside Percy’s room after Dr. Li gave me the all-clear, Dogmeat following close behind. At the foot of her bed, I sat once more, this time with a mutt on my lap. I look at Percy’s sleeping form, the tubes, and the medical equipment.

I need to hear her laugh again. I need to touch her. I need to hold her hand, and close it around mine. I need to feel her warmth pressed against my chest. I need to feel her lips against my ruined mouth again, just like in the rotunda.

In the five months I knew her, Percy stirred something in me, and I did my best to hold it in. I was scared; it’s unfamiliar.

The kiss she gave me before she went in the purifier forced me to confront the truth. Everything I had suppressed rushed to the surface.

Is it love?

Whatever it is, it gave me hope.

It ruined me.

[alarians-history-and-lore]

Violet fire (Flashback)

A group of young Alarian guys, just past their mid twenties, walked together. A wild redhead, a calm looking blond with glasses, and a wild white haired, freckled one.

They talked of science and engineering, all being from the same class together. Wyrran was going on about thermal systems, when Tan'l, the redhead, nudged him.

"Hey. Wyrr. Don't look now, but I think you have a pair of eyes on you." He snickered, poining across the hallway to an absolutely beautiful young woman with a few of her own friends.

She had soft purple eyes and a fluff of slightly blue hair, and she was looking right at him.

Wyrran felt a blush creep up him and shoved Tan'l. "Hey, come on! She's not interested in me. Shut your mouth."

The blond, Keyto, snorted. "Pfff. Come on. She's been eyeing you for weeks. Heard she's really, really firey. Lowkey a little crazy."

Wyrran shook his head. "Ain't got time for girls. Besides. No one's interested in a nerd like me."

He huffed and started walking on, the two others giving each other a look and shaking their heads.

Dense.

--

"Hey."

Wyrran looked up from his book and notes, staring right into a pair of intense purple eyes.

"Hey nerd."

Wyrran tried not to be irritated at the interruption, staring up at her. "Um, yes? I'm studying."

The girl gave him a slightly offended huff, closing his book.

"Hey!"

"C'mon there, egghead. Come out of the pages a while. I want to talk to you." She grinned. "Too busy?"

"Pff. Quit teasing. Girls don't talk to me. Besides. I'm busy." Wyrran huffed, waiting for her to remove her hand from the book so he could find his page.

"I'm talking to you, dummy. Now. I have something to say. You gonna listen or not?"

Wyrran stared up at her lovely royally purple eyes, rolling his diamond ones. "Fine. Make it quick."

Emyyan Tayo was not known for a relaxed or shy disposition. She leaned in, staring him right in the eyes, intense.

"I want to court you." She said firmly.

Wyrran stared at her for a long moment, then started laughing softly. "Me? Come on."

"Yes, Ryfon. You. I. want. You." Emyyan gave him a wild grin. "Now. I'm gonna ask you on a first date, okay?" Emyyan poked him in the shoulder. "The nice little shop near the school, I would like a meal there. I'll pay if you're a coward."

Wyrran was stunned when he realized she was serious."W-what? You... me?? Us??" He blurted out, sputtering.

"See you there tomorrow at lunch." Emyyan grinned, walking away with a flick of her hair.

Wyrran just sat there, watching her walk away. Absolutely stunned.

"What---"

A date? Him? But he wasn't even good looking or charming or buff! All the things that a lady like her would go for in a partner. Him?

She must be playing a joke on him.

--

He sat there, sitting across from her, those intense purple eyes staring right into his soul.

He'd barely touched his food, she'd finished hers.

"So." Emyyan said calmly. "What do you study, eh nerd?"

"Engineering and astronomy. Space-" He stuttered. "Spaceship design."

"Oh. Booooring." She huffed. "Heh. Should have expected that, though. You're boring for such a cute guy."

Wyrran just blinked at her. He couldn't believe the prettiest and most straightforward, firey, absolutely beautiful girl in the entire school had picked him to court.

"I'm studying genetics and experimental stuff. The dangerous new frontiers." Emyyan said proudly. "Stuff like core experiments. You should see the inside of one when its sliced in half."

Wyrran uneasily chuckled, hand going to his core. He wouldn't have the guts to mess with those like that.

"S-sliced...?"

"Yeah. The inside is really neat, like... like... here." She grabbed a pencil and a napkin and drew a large circle. "That's the hard shell." She drew a smaller circle in the middle, and then a bunch of squiggly lines connecting the two. "That's it's heart in the centre, where all the light comes from, where its... brain is. Sorta. And these wiggly bits are the connections between. And then the roots, the conduits grow out from there." She drew some lines out. "We also do tests with them... like with frequencies and stuff. And see how they react to different things. We put one in an animal!" She squeaked excitedly.

Wyrran blinked nervously. She intimidated him. His hand stayed over his heart, an uneasy feeling coming from his core. As if it didn't like the thought of being sliced in half.

"Wow. That's... crazy!" He told her, remembering to try and take another bite of food.

"Sure is. But I'm into it." Emyyan refused to stop staring at him. "Kind of fun."

"Isn't that sort of stuff... frowned upon?" He took a drink.

"Pff. Sort of. But it's a necessary field of science to make progress. I know a lot about cores, space boy." Emyyan grinned. "Did you know they can absolutely grow in nonbiological places?" She leaned forward onto the table. "They can grow with simulated heartbeats. All they need is a steady thing to grow on to. We got one to grow inside a tube." She giggled excitedly.

Wyrran felt more and more uneasy, losing appetite.

"Cores are- are alive! I feel like that would count as- torture." He murmured.

"They- come on. They don't think, dummy." Emyyan snorted. "Sure, they echo the feelings and soul of the one that made them, and the instincts that guide them, but they're not... alive alive. No more really than a tree."

"My mom says plants can have feelings." Wyrran informed her. "She grows all sorts of plants. And she's real good at it, too."

"I'm sure she is." Emyyan said softly, still staring into his eyes.

"Why do you keep... looking at me like that?" Wyrran asked, nervous.

"Because you're hot." Emyyan said frankly. "Very hot."

Wyrran went red as a tomato, freckles vanishing into his blush. "I'm- I'm what??"

"Hot as a gasfire. Smokin." She grinned. "I love your eyes."

Wyrran swallowed, feeling frozen under her gaze.

"So, do you accept my courtship, Ryfon?"

"HhhhhhhhhhhhhhHhh-"

"That's not an answer, really. But I'll take it as a yes." She reached forward and gave him a small touch on the head. "You're my boyfriend now, okay?"

"HHHHHhh-"

"Nice. I'll see you at school tomorrow, Wyrrie!" Emyyan stood up and payed for their food, skipping off happily.

Wyrran sat there staring into space for the next hours.

--

Wyrran was practicing his swordfighting in his yard, slicing at and dodging an imaginary opponent, trying to be as light on his feet as possible.

He'd always had a knack for it. His mother was a bit more of a bow and arrow kind of gal, but the first weapon he'd ever summoned had been his sword. And ever since, he'd been determined to learn everything with it. Become as one as he could with it.

He was gracefully dancing about with it, panting slightly with the sensation of light going up his arm.

Every time one of the tiny living particles that made it up died, another would move to take its place in the sword. A steady flow from the centre of him.

Sure made him feel alive.

He'd gone on dozens of dates with Emy, and he was finally comfortable with her. She was straightforward and firey. A little bit nuts. Impulsive.

She had a softer side to her, but it was rarely seen. Emyyan was absolutely infatuated with him, he could see that.

Love was growing in him for her constantly, but goodness, she was... a lot to handle.

"Hey, Wyrrie!" He jumped at the pet name, turning to see that she'd climbed the fence around his mom's house, and was sitting in her tree. "Nice moves! Think you'd be that good in a bed?" She laughed loudly, jumping out of the tree and walking over to him.

He couldn't help but wonder what weapon she was good with. He stared as she approached, red coming to his face at her... suggestion.

"Dunno." He shrugged. "How's it going, Em?" He asked.

"Very good. You practicing, hmm?" Em put a finger on the edge of the sword, running a finger down it with a flirtatious look in her eyes. "Wanna spar with me, Wy?"

Now this was something he could beat her at, surely. He was pretty good with his sword. The late twenties Wyrran gave her a grin.

"You're on."

"Cool. One thing first." Emyyan leaned in, hand on his sword. "I wanna add in a wager. I win... we finish our courtship. Thzkehz. We bond." She grinned.

Wyrran went red, eyes widening. "Hh??! Already? We've only been... dating for about two years! You want to-"

"What, not confident with your fancy butter knife? Think you can't beat a girl?" Emy teased, running her hand on the blade to the point where it cut her a little. She hummed softly, looking down at the cut on her hand, blood beginning to leak from it.

Wyrran just stared into those amethyst eyes, and then nodded. "Fine. I'll show you what I'm made of, Em. Get ready for a fight." He got into his fighting stance, ready.

Emyyan bunched her cut hand into a fist, light zipping up into it, causing a confident and fast heal. She smiled and wiggled it, barely fazed by the blood. "Challenge has been accepted, then. I'll try not to hurt you."

She held out her hands and summoned a long pole, blades on either side of it, getting into her own stance. She stared him right in the eyes. "You go first, Wyrrie."

He stared at her for a moment, and then went in for a slice, dancing light on his feet. She blocked the blow with her pole, spinning it to block his sword and catching him on his arm with a blade. He winced and backed up immediately, pulling up a shield. She went for him, stabbing with one end of the pole for him. He brought up the sword to block it, moving to hit her with the shield.

She stopped her shield with his hand and kicked him in one of his legs, immediately hitting him with a blunt edge of her pole.

Wyrran hissed in pain and went for a second sword instead of the shield.

They fought back and forth for a while, dancing here and there around the yard, using everything and anything as a part of it. It got pretty intense, and Wyrran had several slices in his shirt, a few of which were bleeding.

He'd only actually hit her twice.

He was panting when she ran for him again, and he took a deep breath, deciding to use something else he was practicing. As she ran at him, he focused energy through his whole body... and just barely managed to teleport. She let out a surprised yelp when he disappeared from in front of her. He hadn't have gone far.

She turned around to see him slicing for her, trying to get a hit off so he could knock her over and win.

She disappeared before he could touch her and a heartbeat later he was on the ground, and she stuck the end of the pole just brushing against the core connection on his spine, where it hit his nervous system.

A spot that if sliced would be very bad. And was considered a little dangerous to be putting weapons near.

He shuddered, swords vanishing. "Em! Holy-"

She pushed it slightly, just slightly into his back, not enough to even go through the skin, but enough that he cried out slightly.

"I win. That means I win."

Wyrran held still, actually terrified. He'd agreed to this. And now...

He swallowed heavily, still frozen under her.

Wyrran had to marry her completely. The act of binding their souls together.

"You fold, Wyrrie?" She asked, voice triumphant. "I've been waiting for this. I wanted you the moment I saw you. Now. Get up." She nudged the spot again, getting a distressed squeak from him, before stepping off of him and letting her pole go.

It took him a moment to recover physically from that poke, standing shakily up. He wasn't ready for this. Courting was one thing... bondage?

Terrified wasn't even close to the feeling in his chest.

He looked over at her, a hand over his slightly shaken, distressed core.

He could feel it shivering inside him from that poke. He gripped at his chest, staring up at her eyes from where he stood, half crouched. "Em... I don't know if-"

Emyyan took a step forward, putting a hand on his chin and forcing him to look up at her.

"Not going back on our wager, are you, Ryfon?" She asked, a serious look in her eyes. "That'd be pretty dishonest of you." She sounded hurt.

Wyrran was just a scared young man, staring into her eyes. Could he say no? He could, right? It was his choice too. He could.

But he... had agreed.

"N-no. We had a deal. You win, we bind."

He couldn't tear his eyes from her.

She smiled warmly. "Oh, wonderful. I can't wait. Shall we?"

"Wh- what about your family's permission? The ceremony?" He sputtered. "Now?"

Emyyan shook her head. "As if I respect my deadbeat of a dad enough to ask his permission to marry the man I love. Besides. We just fought. And I won. That was the ceremony, as far as I'm concerned. I'm ready, Wyrrie." She pulled him in and kissed him.

Eito, she was hot. And sassy.

Wyrran chuckled a little, even if this filled him with butterflies. He was... well, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious.

He let her drag him away into the house, knowing his mom wasn't home right now.

This... this was it.

The woman he was going to spend his life with.

Wyrran would give his all for her.

--

"Are you working on that dumb spaceship again?" Wyrran looked up from his sketches and design ideas to see Emyyan there, an annoyed look on her face.

He ducked a little. "Uh... yes?" He gave her a small smile. "I told you Em, it's my dream. To fly."

She rolled her eyes and sat across from him. "Huh. Well. I think you should get your head out of the stars, hun. And focus on this. We're married. Remember?"

Wyrran blinked at her. "I- I know. But... I can't help it. The stars call to me. Always have." He held up the sketch he'd made of an egg shaped ship. "See? It's going to have....probably three engines. And... plenty of room for a whole family, when we start one up. I mean, not that we haven't been trying, anyway. But once it happens. We can all fly together!"

Emyyan looked annoyed. "I don't want to leave. I like it just fine on the ground." She huffed. "I don't want to go careening through the empty void. There's nothing but danger and terror and empty, vast, boring wastes out there. What even is so exciting?"

"Adventure. Intrigue. It's beautiful out there... and I promise I'll show you the beauty." Wyrran assured her gently.

Emyyan stared at the sketch in his hands, dubious at best. "Huh. Well. Besides that, there's something I want to tell you. Get over here, babe."

Wyrran nodded and walked over to her, and she stood, grabbing his hands. Their eyes met.

He blushed, staring warmly at her. A year and a half ago now, they'd binded. Sealed it. He adored her.

He leaned in and gave her a kiss, and she giggled.

Emyyan leaned forward, staring intently into his eyes. She pressed both his hands against her lower body. "We've been trying... hard. And we did it. Finally. I started... I started feeling it a little while ago. I'm at the very least a month or so in."

Her eyes widened, filled with excitement and warmth.

"I'm with child, Wyrran." She said it warmly, eyes staring into his soul.

Wyrran's jaw dropped open. He stared at her in disbelief, hands pressing softly against her for a moment, and then he felt a little lightheaded when it hit him.

"Hhhh???" He made confused and startled noises, and then stumbled back a bit. "You're- you're- Ohhhhh. Oh boy. Oh-" He had to lean against the wall, trying not to fall over. "Oh. Oh Ralin. Oh boy."

"Don't hyperventilate, dear." She giggled, watching him sort of fold into himself. "Breathe, okay?"

He started laughing breathily, weakly. "Oh my gosh I'm going to- I'm going to be a dad! I'm a father! I--- ohhh my head." Wyrran looked up at her, standing there. "Em... you feel okay? No... no hiccups yet?"

"I got a few this morning. That's when I decided to tell you." She smiled. "You know what this means? It means we have to stay."

He blinked, confused. "Huh?"

"We have to stay on Alar. You wouldn't seriously take a little baby to space." She said it like it was certain.

Wyrran straightened slightly, even still feeling lightheaded. "Well, by the time we get the ship built and ready, the little one would be more than old enough. I'm only just starting build-" He paused.

"You've-- you've started?" Emyyan sounded ticked. "Are you kidding me?" She stomped a foot. "Wyrran! I said I don't want to go to space! I said you choose it or me!"

Wyrran shrunk under her gaze. He'd started work on the ship without telling her a month into their marriage, actually. He had several designs in mind... but had pretty much narrowed down what he wanted at that point. "Uhhhh... Emmie?"

"Don't you Emmie me. Where is it. Where are you hiding that stupid metal death machine?" She glared. "I'll have some people come and scrap it."

"No! Why would you do that? It's- it's my life's dream and you know it!" Wyrran yelled back. "Don't, please! I- I'm working so hard on this because... even if I don't fly with you, I still want to go some day! Please, Em, don't take it away from me. Please." The joy of the moment was ruined, replaced by indignation.

He so rarely fought back about anything, but this... this was something he was serious about.

"Wyrr. It's time to let the dream go. It's just not for us. This is what you need to focus on." Her hand went over her belly. She wasn't even showing yet. The little one was still so small... He stared down and then back up at her. "Like I said. Choose that-" She gestured to the drawings of space and machines and ships. "Or this." She gestured to herself. "Because I am not going to space. You have about ten months to think about it." Emyyan turned and walked off, still mift at him.

"Oh boy." Wyrran whispered to himself, half collapsing against the wall.

What would mom do?

He... he was going to be a father.

That scared him.

--

He winced as the door slammed practically in his face. He opened it again and watched her leave, not even looking back at him.

She was leaving to live at her old place.

The yelling, the screaming, she'd thrown things at him.

He blamed it half on the hormones, really.

"I hate your stupid ship! And I hate you! And- and- and I hate this child!" She had yelled. "You're stubborn and stupid and I can't believe I ever fell in love with you! I don't want anything to do with you ever again, Wyrran Ryfon!"

And that was it.

She just left. He watched her from the door, tears streaming down his cheeks. He'd messed it all up. He'd ruined it. She would never forgive him after this, for sure.

Rubbing at the spot on his face where she had slapped him... hard, he closed the door and moved to sit down at the table.

Why was it... so hard...?

He curled in on himself, crying. He'd clean up the mess later.

--

The letter came only a week later.

He had to force himself to open it. It was addressed from Emyyan Tayo. Not Ryfon.

He sighed and settled in his chair to read it.

To whom it concerns:

Yes, Wyrran, that means you,

As far as I'm concerned, we are no longer bonded. No longer married. From now on, we live apart as strangers. You are not to talk to me. Or approach me. Understand? I do NOT want you. Knowing you, you'll be blaming yourself for this.

Good.

It is your fault.

Now, as for our unborn child.

I do not want it.

As soon as it is born, it's yours. I no longer care about it, about you, about your stupid dream. You refused to let it go when I pleaded, begged. I just wanted a life with you. And you couldn't even give me that.

So in nine months, it will be the last time I expect to ever interact with you.

They give you the kid.

You leave.

Never, ever try and come after me.

I'll-

There were some scribbles on that part. They ran down a couple lines, as if she'd changed her mind a few times.

Just don't. I can't take it.

Be at the healing centre when they call you. I'll have that taken care of so I never have to worry about any of it again.

Goodbye.

- Emyyan Tayo

And that was all that he had left of her.

Wyrran put the letter down, hands shaking.

He was sobbing.

He'd ruined his whole chance with her, and for a stupid ship.

He summoned his sword and drove it into the table with a frustrated curse, the wood splintering.

Wyrran immediately regretted it. That was the table he'd grown up at.

He let out a distressd, long wail and collapsed back into the chair, curling in on himself, shaking with anger and fear and... and brokenness.

He was a stupid fool.

And he had only one thing left.

This child.

He would...

Wyrran would give his all for that child.

All he had left in him.

[taetaespeaches]

“I’m that serious about Christmas presents”

Hoseok x Reader genre: fluff word count: 1.4K

a/n: Here is the third Christmas fic y’all! It’s just Hobi and his partner being obsessed with Mickey and dancing to Christmas music. This takes place after Jin’s Christmas party in this little Christmas fic universe thing I have going on. I hope you enjoy and thanks for reading :))

YAWNING, you watched as Hoseok unlocked the door of your shared apartment, holding it open for you to enter. 

Dipping under his arm, you walked inside in the apartment, shedding yourself of your shoes and coat. Heading to the couch, you greeted an excited Mickey who was wiggling happily. 

“Hi little babes, how was your evening?” You cooed at the small dog. Hoseok followed behind you, leaning over your frame to scratch the dog’s cute face. 

“Look at this, Mickey,” Hoseok pointed his phone towards the dog, showing the intrigued pup the brand new phone case given to him by Jungkook’s girlfriend for Secret Santa. The phone case featured a photo of you and the little pup on that very couch. 

After sniffing the phone, Mickey easily lost interest, Hoseok turning the phone to appreciate the case himself. “Look at my babies,” he admired it with a soft smile. 

Leaning towards your boyfriend, you pecked his jaw before slipping away from him, heading towards your purse you left at the front door. 

Pulling out the Secret Santa gift you received from Taehyung, you chuckled at the ceramic mug. 

“Are we really this obvious?” You asked, holding up the mug for Hoseok. He laughed happily as he walked towards you until he was planted directly in front of you. Placing one hand on your hip, he took the mug from you with his opposite hand.

“Apparently we are,” he beamed, thoroughly amused by the mug that displayed a photo of Hoseok and Mickey. 

“Hi, we’re the Jungs, we love each other and our dog, and that’s all,” you poked fun at you and your boyfriend’s simple lives. 

Kissing you suddenly, Hoseok’s hand slid from your hip to your waist, squeezing at your flesh. “I love that you’re already calling us the Jungs,” he whispered against your lips, smiling affectionately. 

“Of course,” you pressed your lips to his in a quick peck. “You just have to ask me first,” you teased. 

Giggling loudly, Hoseok kissed you once more. “Oh, I will,” he assured you before leaving you to go to the kitchen. “Want some wine?” He called out. 

You hummed in response as you made your way back to the living room, stopping to pet a sleeping Mickey. Shaking your hair out a bit, you walked towards the tree, plugging it in, illuminating the darkened room in a festive glow. 

Before you could head towards the couch, the old stereo system you received from your grandparents several years ago caught your eye. You could play the radio, CDs, and cassette tapes on it, which made it just about useless to you and Hoseok, opting to use it as a shelf to display various picture frames of family and friends. 

Recalling a specific album, however, you plopped to the floor, sifting through the bins of old cassette tapes. Bypassing Michael Jackson’s Bad, Whitney Houston’s Whitney, Billie Joel’s The Stranger, and various other artists, you finally found it. A Jolly Christmas from Frank Sinatra. 

You quickly took the tape out of the case, inserting it into the cassette player.

The sound traveled through the old staticky speakers, Frank’s voice singing “I’ll be Home for Christmas” greeting your ears. The song started somewhere near the middle, wherever the previous listener had stopped the tape. 

A hum of piqued interest sounded from your boyfriend as he entered the living area, making you look from the stereo to him. He was yielding a wine glass in one hand and your new mug in the other. 

“Sinatra?” He asked with a smile. 

“Wine?” You countered, Hobi holding your new mug out to you in response. Clambering off the floor, you quickly approached him, taking the drink graciously, eagerly sipping the alcohol. 

“I love this song,” he quietly spoke into the cozy room as he set his wine glass down on the coffee table. 

As you took a hefty drink of wine, Hoseok’s hand was suddenly on the mug, pulling it from your lips. 

“Hey,” you complained, only to be met with a joyful laugh from your boyfriend as he set the mug next to his glass. 

“Dance with me,” he gently demanded, taking your hand and wrapping his other arm around your waist. 

Pulling you close to him, your hand found his shoulder. With an exaggerated sigh, you allowed him to sway your frame with his. 

“You’re so dramatic,” he smiled, beaming with affection. “Any other person ever would be swooning right now. This is romantic,” he informed you. 

Smirking, you nodded. “But I was drinking,” you teased, sliding your hand along his shoulder until your fingers met the hair at the nape of his neck. 

Playing with the strands, Hobi began humming along to the song as it finished the final lyric, “if only in my dreams”.  

The next song, “The Christmas Waltz”, started playing immediately as you and Hoseok continued to dance. 

“Tonight was nice,” you told Hoseok. “It was fun having everyone together like that.” 

“It was,” he agreed. “Those two are party planning pros,” Hobi praised Jin and his girlfriend for their hosting skills. 

“Ok, their apartment,” you paused to pull an expression of awe. “A-maz-ing.”

Your boyfriend laughed as he spun you around, eliciting a squeal from you as he pulled your back against his chest. With his arms wrapped around your waist, his chin resting atop your shoulder, he pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

You secured your arms on top of his as you both continued to sway to “The Christmas Waltz”. 

“How about Yoongi,” Hobi pondered, making you gasp in response. 

“Oh my god, those two little sneaks! If this would have happened even a year ago, I wouldn’t have been so surprised.”

“Five months!” Hobi exclaimed. “They’ve been hiding it for almost half a year and we didn’t notice a thing.” 

“Sneaks!” You insisted, the volume of your voice making Mickey open an eye at you. “Sneaky little pair.” 

You and Hobi giggled for a moment, letting the song fade out, the room being met with a comfortable quietness. 

“Good for them, though,” your boyfriend said sincerely, spinning you around to face him again. 

His hands found your hips as yours wrapped around the back of his neck. “I’m happy for them,” you smiled. 

“Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” started playing throughout the room as you rested your head against Hoseok’s shoulder. 

“You know,” he started to speak, perking your ears in anticipation. “Every time we’re in a room of people like that, I’m always so happy to have you by my side. Even when we’re just with the members and everyone, I feel so lucky and comfortable. Arriving with you, leaving with you. It just makes me happy.” 

Lifting your head, you met his adoring gaze, and you couldn’t help but be taken aback by how stunning he looked illuminated by the Christmas tree. 

“I know exactly how you feel,” you said simply, bringing your hands to rest on each side of his jaw. Guiding his head towards you, you brought your lips to his nose, leaving a sweet kiss to the tip of it. 

Mickey groaned from the couch making you both look towards the little dog as it stretched out. You both smiled at the pup before you spoke up. “I’m a little pissed about that phone case,” you told Hoseok with feigned annoyance. 

“What? Why?” He asked you in surprise, eyes wide. 

“Now I have to find you a different Christmas present,” you joked, making Hoseok laugh as he pulled you into a hug, his arms around the back of your neck. 

“Well,” he kissed the top of your head. “Whatever you get me better be good if you want to secure your place as Mrs. Jung,” he teased making you swat at his side. “I’m that serious about Christmas presents.” 

You groaned at him as he laughed loudly, rocking your body from side to side in time with the song. “I love you, Petal,” he told you through a wide smile. 

“I love you too, you meanie,” you giggled against his chest. 

With Frank crooning out “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas”, Mickey sleeping nearby, and the lights on the Christmas tree casting a warm glow over you and Hoseok, you allowed yourself to lose yourself in the moment, and in him.

[alignedjourney]

Avoidance of Boundaries

Many of us can relate to growing up in households that did not have great boundaries. In my specific home, there were no bed times, poorly communicated limits, physical discipline that crossed lines, and often times scenarios where taking on someone else’s feelings or making oneself responsible for another’s feelings were the norm. Oh! And to all my other Latino friends out there, you may know this, but the word “boundaries”, in this context, does not have a translation in Spanish. It is no wonder that our culture is more familiar with the word “limits”. Keep in mind that you have already crossed boundaries once you get to limits. (Please know that I do not have judgement or resentment towards my parents as they were doing the best they could, and they were a much improved version of what they grew up with. I love them so much!).

Friends of Earth, I have a new awareness today that I did not have two days ago! I have spent most of my life Avoiding the need to  set up healthy boundaries like a beast! If you remember, this path is about making new decisions, choosing to step into engagement, and using all experiences as learning opportunities to catapult growth. So, I changed my mind and plan to be the Queen of Boundaries, or at least a Dutchess or something until I get the hang of things.

Yesterday, my boyfriend made a joke that rubbed me slightly the wrong way. In my old life, I would have chosen to get mad/sad, give my power away, let the emotion burn deep inside, allowed my mind to spiral and create scenarios, lingered in the state of “why did this happen and why did he say that to me... doesn’t he know better! I’m a good person, I don’t have to put up with this! I don’t even know how to bring this up to him. What value does my word or opinion really have anyway?”, only to bury it, and then settle to be a victim... of a casual joke that had no ill intention. Gosh! That was exhausting!

Today, I have so much more perspective. My mentor (Tammy De Mirza) has brought to my attention that I do not/did not have any boundaries. Through her guidance, I now have awareness that growing up with unhealthy and minimal boundaries as a child lead to me become a slightly taller version of that child and a disempowered adult.

Frequently finding myself suppressing opinions, not having a clear sense of my own identity, and not feeling empowered enough to make decisions, became the unconscious norm and status quo of my life.

When I was married, I found myself relying on my partner for happiness, depending on him to make big decisions, allowing him to manage a significant portion of our responsibilities, and eventually I found myself fearing a life without him. Self battery talk looks like this: “What would being without him look like? What is my value if I’m not in this relationship? Well, this partner is much better than several partners before him and he takes care of me, so I will walk on eggshells to keep the peace and I will be accommodating in order to be the perfect wife and mother so I do not loose this portion of my identity. I don’t really need to share my opinion with him because he won’t really get me and that could put me at risk of not being valued”. (What the actual ***k! Yes, the real life Janet has a really trashy mouth with a loving disposition. Namaste y’all!).

Fast forward to today, and I don’t even know who that person is anymore, but I do remember her. Today, I CHOOSE a commitment to myself to prioritize my opinions, goals, needs and values on a totally different level going forward while keeping in mind that the growth process takes practice and actual execution!

So, how did I address the sweet, goofy boyfriend who made a joke that I could discern as being outside of my comfort zone? I honored my feeling. I did not like his joke and told him that I did not find it funny. I also explicitly stated, “I am drawing a hard boundary” on this joke and these are other parameters that fall under this same guideline. His response: “Fair enough and understood as well as respected”. He also knows that I value change in behavior in addition to the apology. The true apology is the change of behavior.

Now, how does avoidance play into the disliked joke? In the past, old Janet (the one that existed Before Tammy... we’ll discuss my life BT and AT in another post) would not have said anything at all, and buried this emotion because it did not necessarily have value or a right to be expressed. This would have been me simply repeating patterns of the childhood and not honoring myself. This type of action frequently resulted in me carrying emotional weight and even illness.

I am still learning how to walk in my truth and speak it, so I am thankful for a mentor that helps me with these realizations and a boyfriend who has a high emotional intellect and is compassionate. These two offer a safe space and make it easy for me to want to come out of the protective shell I have worn most of my life. It is freeing!

Waking up to the fact that avoidance has been a huge result of an emotional crippling I experienced growing up is so refreshing. It makes it easier to simply observe the avoidance and lack of boundaries as a predicament and a choice. So, today and going forward, I choose to overcome my predicament.

Though it may look small, this exchange of words with my boyfriend has been such a great act of self-love. I now understand why showing another person boundaries is love, for both the other person and self.

Love you guys!

Janet

P.S. Belief Systems = BS. Now sit with that for just one moment.

A significant portion of my insight came from Tammy’s Power to Choose Program™️ where she really has you observe your life as a reality that you are creating. I highly recommend it if you are ready to make true changes in your life. ❤️ 🙏