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#thought jamie had been a little happy-go-lucky of late
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JAMIE HUMMEL
☆ FULL NAME: Jamie Atlas Hummel ☆ GENDER: Cisman ☆ PRONOUNS: He/Him ☆ AGE: 28 (August 13th, 1996) ☆ TYPE: Full sibling; solo (open to twin) ☆ HOMETOWN: Portland, Oregon ☆ JOB: Digital Marketer; Marketing Professor at PSU ☆ SCHOOL: PSU Alumni ☆ SEXUALITY: Bisexual ☆ FACECLAIM: Taron Egerton
ABOUT JAMIE
Death TW
Jamie grew up in a loving family and felt comfortable with them. He was a shy young boy and probably kept himself and didn’t really make friends. He was always just a hard worker and was very focused on working hard on himself. Growing up after his mom passed away was tough, he was close with his mom and he knew this was going to change his family. He struggled to adjust and he declined and kept himself away in his room watching TV or reading books or focusing on school. He was very lucky, he had his brother and his dad who was always there.
During his time in high school, he found himself a little more shy and only had a handful of friends. He didn’t really know why he felt this way but he chose to believe it was just who he was. In his sophomore year, he met his first girlfriend Lucie and they were inseparable, there was a lot they had in common and he was very happy with her. He lost his virginity to her and he thought they were meant to be. This was until they were in their junior year where she decided she wasn’t into him anymore and they split up.
After the break up, Jamie was contemplating his sexuality, he knew he was into girls but there were times he was also into guys and he wasn’t completely against the idea. So he was slowly coming to terms with being bisexual. The first person he told was his brother Kurt as he knew he was comfortable around Kurt and he knew Kurt would understand.
Once he finished high school he decided he was interested in Business but he wasn’t sure why but he got an offer in to PSU in LA for business so he moved to LA and learnt all about business and then decided to move on to do a Masters in Marketing. After this he was interested in digital marketing so he researched about it and opened a freelance digital marketing company that was growing over the time. Alongside this he decided to get a job as a Marketing professor at PSU and has been doing this over the past 2 years.
FAMILY BACKGROUND
cancer tw, death tw
Burt Hummel comes from a humble beginning, and really never had any intentions of becoming famous. Working for his father’s garage, Hummel Tires & Lube, he developed an interest in cars, and proved to be pretty damn good at what he did. A twist of fate saw him approached to help out with some behind-the-scenes things for Top Gear by a customer who happened to work on the show. This opportunity led to yet another, even bigger twist of fate, with Burt meeting the woman he would go on to marry, up-and-coming actress, Elizabeth Blake.
As the two grew together, so did their respective careers; Elizabeth booked bigger and bigger acting gigs until she was a household name, while Burt, whose stint on Top Gear showed him to be a natural in front of the camera, was propelled into a life of presenting for various television shows. They relocated to Los Angeles, and their fame began to grow, along with their family, until Elizabeth eventually got sick in the late-noughties, then lost a quick but mighty battle with cancer. Burt took a break from the limelight following his wife’s passing, opening a new Hummel Tires & Lube location in LA, before deciding to go back to presenting a few years later.
Now, Burt presents on Top Gear, where he got his real start, and also hosts a talk show, The Late Show with Burt Hummel, where he interviews celebrity guests and is often praised for his ability to entertain the audience with his dry humor and build a quick rapport with his guests. While he never dated anybody seriously since losing Elizabeth, Burt has recently begun dating Carole Hudson, but they’re not ready to make things public just yet.
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Love your blog so much! Just curious does the Jamie in FMM Carey any weapons?
Flood my Mornings: Some Sunday Morning 
Notes from Mod Bonnie:
This story takes place in an AU in which Jamie travels through the stones two years after Culloden and finds Claire and his child in 1950 Boston.
See all past installments via Bonnie’s Master List
Previous installment: Aisles (Jamie visits a modern supermarket)
September, 1950
Some Sunday morning is goin’ to be 
Some Sunday morning for someone and me! 
Bells will be chiming an old melody, 
‘Specially for someone and me!
“I truly dinna understand it Claire,” Jamie said, shaking his head at me. 
“What?” 
“I canna remember ye ever being musically inclined, back in the days before, but seems every moment I turn around, now, you’re fair bursting out into song!” 
“What can I say, darling?” I sighed dramatically, batting my lashes. “You put a song in my heart!” 
Our eyes met and we both burst into gales of laughter at the sickly-sweet endearment. 
Sickly-sweet….but accurate, I thought, my heart feeling light. 
We turned the corner onto Burnham Avenue, pushing Bree before us in her pram. It was a little chilly for a September morning, and there was a whiff of winter in the air; not enough to keep us from our usual Sunday walk before mass, but enough that Jamie kept his arm around me as we walked, and I snuggled happily into his shoulder. 
“Summ-summy-morneeen,” sang Bree.  
“Oh, so she’s a wee songster, as well!” Jamie said, amused, peering down at her. “I’m to be overrun by you tuneful lot, then!” 
“I think I picked it up from Uncle Lamb,” I mused. “He used to sing under his breath as he dug or wrote. Used to drive me bananas, in fact,” I said, laughing. “I’ll do my best to cut it out, I promise!”
“No, no,” Jamie replied hastily, grinning. “It’s charming, Sassenach, truly. I only wish I could join along wi’ y–” 
Jamie stopped dead, staring ahead as I was… at the swarm of police cars at the end of the street. 
“God, it’s…just terrible,” I said for perhaps the dozenth time. I could see the reflection of my hands shaking as I finished pinning up my hair in the mirror. 
Approaching the melée of flashing lights and sirens, hearts pounding, we had joined the small huddle of concerned neighbors, hearing the story that trickled back in low whispers.
The Nortons. That was their name. We had never known that, just recognized them from occasionally crossing paths at the park or market: a husband, wife, and three small children, all with white-blonde hair, such that Jamie had always referred to them fondly in passing as ‘the ducklings.’ The father was a banker, someone said. The mother was often to be seen in her yard tending flowers. Nice people. Normal people.  
An armed man had broken into the family’s house in the night, threatened them, then beat and bound the parents before locking all five of them in a windowless closet. The vandal then stripped the house of its valuables and made off into the night. It was nearly eight hours later that a paperboy happened to hear the children’s cries and the family was rescued. No lasting injuries sustained, thank God, but all five severely and understandably terrified by the ordeal of the night.
“Terrible,” I said again, shuddering at the memory of the five blanked-wrapped figures clinging close together in their front yard. 
As I finished affixing my hat, Jamie walked down the hall to join me in the foyer. He had said nothing the entire walk back to the house. He’d remained silent as we’d washed and dressed and gotten Bree ready, preparing for the service. 
“We’d best get on our way, I suppose,” I said, less than enthusiastically checking my wristwatch and scooping Bree off the living room rug. “Only fifteen minutes to mass.” 
“I’m no’ going to mass this morning,” he said with almost no inflection. 
“Oh, good,” I said, relieved, though a bit miffed that he hadn’t said so before I’d made a to-do of getting myself and Bree dressed and coiffed. “I’m not much in the mood eith–wh–?….Jamie, where are you going?” For he had taken up his hat and overcoat and was putting them on, clearly meaning to go out. 
He didn’t look up. “To buy a weapon.” 
Taken aback by this blunt answer as I was, I supposed it was only natural given what we’d just seen. He’d slept with a dirk under his pillow for the first three years of our marriage, had he not? I shifted Bree in my arms, letting her play with my hair. “I’m not sure there will be many stores open on a Sunday morning where you can buy a decent knife. You may want to wait until—”
“No’ a knife, Sassenach. I’m going to buy a pistol.”  
“Like hell you are.” 
He stared at me, for a moment perfectly blank with surprise. I stared right back, one eyebrow raised in defiance. He was actually speechless. He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again. I heaved a sigh, half-laughing. “God, men and their love of toys.” 
“Toys?” Jamie whispered, sounding as though he didn’t believe his own ears. 
“Toy-toysies-toys!” came a far more cheerful voice at my ear. I knelt to set Bree down on the living room floor, opening the basket that held a small selection of toys and books. She set to her work, happily finding George the Rabbit and her favorite wooden blocks. 
Jamie was still standing in the foyer, I could see from the corner of my eye, giving me a patient look as he explained, “It’s to keep in the house, Sassenach, the pistol. I dinna mean to carry it about wi’ me.”
“Even so,” I said, rising and facing him with my arms crossed. “Absolutely not.” 
Jamie’s face hardened and reddened now. “After learning what we did this morning…? How could you possibly not wish to see us better protected, Claire?”
“The burglar didn’t discharge his weapon, Jamie. He didn’t shoot at the family. He just had a gun.”
“Ye think every scoundrel will be satisfied wi’ that? The Nortons were lucky, that’s all. We willna be caught empty-handed like they were.” 
“Jamie, darling,” I said through slightly gritted teeth, “this is a different time.” 
Jamie made an angry sound in his throat, gesturing sharply. “But there’s still evil in the world, no? I read the newspapers, Claire–I ken fine that there are as many sick bastards now as in 1743, if none so recognizable at first sight. So dinna give me that tripe that there’s no danger to be had in 1950.”
“Yes, but this isn’t the bloody Highlands, either,” I snapped, picking up my coat and purse and brushing past him, feeling the alarming heat of true discord boiling between us for the first time in recent memory, and wanting to blink my eyes and have all melt away.
“And what’s that meant to signify?” came the sharp question from behind me.
“This is an advanced civil society the like of which no one of your century could have even dreamed,” I said crisply, opening the door to the closet at the end of the hall. “There’s rule of law that keeps your ‘sick bastards’ from extorting and murdering people with impunity.” 
“Oh, aye? So it’s all well and good if Claire Fraser is shot and killed, because the perpetrator will go to prison for it in the end, is that it?” 
“AND–” I ignored this jab out of hand. I was angry and getting angrier, but I was slow and fussy with hanging my things l, not ready to turn and face him as I barrelled forward. “–the other side of that ordered society is that even if Jamie Fraser thinks it’s merited, he can’t just shoot someone at the slightest provocation!” 
“I dinna intend to shoot at any provocation….” He was straining to keep calm, but I could clearly hear the danger rising between his clenched teeth. “…except that someone enters this house to do violence against my family.”
I turned on my heel and gave him a look of steel. “Jamie, I won’t have a gun in this house. They’re dangerous and unnecessary.”
“’Unnecessary’?” He was almost six feet away, but even at that safe distance, his own look could have sliced me in two. I jumped back in reflex as he snarled, “You would rather be shot–rather *our daughter* or the next bairn be killed before our eyes– than have me keep a weapon under our roof? Is that what you’re telling me?” 
I threw up my hands in abject frustration and panic. “Jamie, that isn’t bloody fair!”
“How? HOW is what I’m saying unreasonable, Claire?” He was shaking with rage. “DAMN YOU, Claire, TELL ME!”  
“What if Bree got hold of your bloody pistol without you knowing and thought it a toy and pulled the trigger?? She could—”
He was seething, deep scarlet, moments from complete eruption. “Ye think—I’d be—so careless—as to—”
“Accidents, Jamie!” I said, throwing up my hands and bustling into the bedroom to escape that look. “Accidents happen! Don’t you ever see that in your newspapers? And it’s not just Bree I’m worried about—YOU could shoot someone out of your bloodyminded warrior instinct and be put away for life to rot in some prison cell, and THEN where would we fucking be??”
His voice was low and lethal from the doorway, barely a whisper.  “In all the years you’ve known me… in ALL the dangers we’ve faced…have you ever known me to act rashly in danger? EVER?” he hissed. “Have I ever struck or killed by accident?
“Jamie that’s beside the—” I turned, pleading, and suddenly he was only inches from me, his breath hot on my face. “Dar–Darling, listen, you have to trust m—”
“NO!” he bellowed, leaning down so close to me that I tried to step back but was trapped by the wall, trapped by those blue eyes blazing. “No, Claire, I DO NOT have to trust you on this. What ye choose to wear, what profession you pursue: concerning those I have chosen trust you, no matter how much they might gall me–.but I will not TRUST you and Bree to the CHANCE that invaders will be merciful or stupid!  Do ye hear me?”
“Jamie, I–”
“I will NOT live knowing myself to be at a disadvantage to those that would attempt to harm my family. And the fact that you would leave ME to be shot first wi’ only a knife in my hand–That your–your–PRINCIPLES are more important than–”
“…Da?” 
We both snapped our heads to the bedroom door, where Bree stood clutching George, eyes overflowing with tears, her sweet face a mask of horror.
Jamie made a sound….a pitiful sound…shame and despair….and turned away from us both, retreating to the space between the bed and wall.
I went at once to Bree and swept her up into my arms, patting and soothing. “It’s alright, baby, hush, now, everything’s fine.”
It wasn’t fine…but God, he was right. 
It wasn’t my ‘principles,’ though. As much as I did think it dangerous to allow the easy purchase of guns generally, that wasn’t the reason I didn’t want one in our house. 
It was that I was afraid of being afraid again. I didn’t want to live once more in a world where people sought to attack, maim, rape, and destroy me and those I held dear. Knowing evil exists in the world is one thing; acknowledging that such dangers might find me, my loved ones–that was what had pierced me with terror; as if arming against danger would call it forth. 
…which was utterly foolish, I realized as soon as the thought crossed my mind. The English deserters in that long-ago glade after our first wedding had not attacked me because I carried a sgian dubh–the having of it had simply allowed me to do what needed to be done to defend myself…and Jamie.
His face was averted, hung between his shoulders as he leaned with both hands against the wall; but I could see his shoulders shaking, and hear the desperate effort to which he went to suppress (almost suppress) bitter sobs.
I came close behind him, slowly, Bree sniffling and gasping on my shoulder as her own tears failed to subside. I laid a hand softly on his arm and said firmly, but I hoped not coldly, “If we must have it….we’ll keep it locked in the bedside drawer.”
“Thank you,” he said softly. Then after a long silence he turned fast and crushed us to him. “I’m sorry….sorry, Claire….I didna mean… I ken ye dinna want this…but…” 
I crushed him right back, or as best I could with only one free arm. 
No, I didn’t want this, but he was right: never once had I seen him err in battle or hand-to-hand combat. In decisions? In words? God, yes; too many times to count. But In blows? When lives were on the line? Never. There was no one on earth I trusted more than him, not just in some romantic, theoretical way; but also in the capability of his mind and body to act with decision and incision. 
I hated this…but I was choosing to trust him. 
“I’m sorry, Sassenach. And you, a leannan,” he said to Bree, “Da is verra sorry he frightened ye.” 
He spoke gently in Gaelic to her–I love you, sweetheart–and kissed her cheek, wrapping his arms around us both again and exhaling heavily. 
“Claire, I–” he said, haltingly, and I could hear the pain in it; the regret. “I ken there’s no valor in this. It’s fear that screams at me to insist upon this thing, rather than submit and trust that all will be well. It’s just that…” His mouth went dry and he had to swallow. “I’ve nothing in the world save you two.”
“You think I have?” I choked out, his fear seemed to creep across the space between our feet and snake up my leg into my heart. 
He pressed his cheek hard into the top of my head. “I pray wi’ all my soul, Claire… that we never once have to unlock the drawer.”
Song: Some Sunday Morning from San Antonio (1945)
[next chapter]
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Who knew brooms could be so useful part 2
Is this who we are? Is this what we represent? I swear I don‘t have a broom kink
Have fun I guess? *forced smile*
Part one
Warnings: 18+, Sexual content with a broom
---
You stared at him, mouth opening and closing for a few times before you found your words.
„You want to...fuck me with your broom...because it brought you good luck in the last game?“
James nodded, face dead serious.
You stared again. What?
„I don‘t know how you did it, but I swear, after you came on my broom, I scored points after points. I always knew that you are my lucky charm.“
You kept staring, thoughts racing all over the place. James wants to fuck you with his broom and make you cum all over it, so he can win the upcoming quidditch game against Slytherin.
He leaned in closer, hand grasping your chin to tilt your head up and he had a hard look on his face.
„You want me to win, right poppet?“
You furrowed your brows, offended that he would imply otherwise, „Of course, James!“
He brushed his thumb over your lips, finger sliding into your mouth to play with your tongue.
„Then let me fuck you with it. But only grinding on it isn‘t enough this time sweetheart, you need to come with it inside of you. Want your cum all over it, you hear me?“
Oh my god.
„Merlin, James, how do you get those ideas?“
„S‘not difficult. I love you and I love Quidditch. Will you do it?“
You bit your lip. „Meet me by the lake at sundown, don‘t be late or I‘ll chicken out!“, you warned him.
He smirked at you, obviously pleased to get his way and pressed a hot kiss on your lips. Spoilt.
---
You were already sitting by the lake, waiting for your boyfriend when you heard the swooping sound of a broom landing on the ground and turned around, just to be kissed hard by James. He was needy, groping your ass and thighs, pulling you close to breathe you in. He wanted to get lost in the taste of your lips, the smell of your hair and feeling of your soft legs in his callous hands. He was overwhelmed by his desperation for you and there was only one way he knew how to show his lust. By fucking you senseless. 
"You're my dirty cocksucking little whore. Repeat it." 
You whine loudly. “I’m your dirty cocksucking little whore.”
James let out a low groan. “Mmm, the things I’m gonna make you do. Take off your clothes and touch yourself, slut.”
Immediately you took off your clothes sitting down on James jacket, that he placed on the ground and spread your legs. Your pussy is already wet, lips sticking together and your clit swollen. James took your hand to suck on your fingers and spit on your open palm before he leaned against a tree and watched you closely. 
“Fuck your fingers and make yourself cum.” James wanted you to cum as much as possible, before he fucked you with his broom, so you could squirt all over the object. 
One hand rubbed at your clit, the other one gently playing with your slit as you slid in one finger at a time. You kept your eyes on yourself, to emberassed to look at him. He noticed, of course he would, and crouched infront of your open legs to give you a mean glare. 
“How many times do I have to tell you to look at me when you play with yourself..”
“M’sorry Jamie, but it doesn’t feel the same. S’not good, I want your fingers instead, please!”
"Shut up. I don't care what you want. You're here to do what I want."
You whimpered at his condesending tone and fucked your tight pussy with your fingers, always on the brink of pleasure but never quite reaching your spot. The spot that James adores and is the only one capable to finding it. 
“Stupid girl, can’t even fuck yourself right. You greedy thing got used to the pleasure I give you, that you can’t do it on your own anymore. Get your fingers off of my pussy, now!”
You took away your hands, resting on your elbows as you looked at your lover. He spit on his palm and gave your naked body such a look of indifference, that you would think he wasn’t effected by this in the slightes, if his the buldge in his pants wasn’t showing. He pushes his fingers in hard and fast, thick and long fingers curling and hitting that spongey part of your pussy, his other hand drawing little circles on your clit. Your legs started to shake as you begged him to let you cum.
"Do you want to cum?" 
"Yes!" 
"Beg for it." You beg, voice breaking, trying to hold in your orgasm.  
"Louder". You beg louder, eyes glassy and pleading. 
"Not good enough. Try again." 
“Please, pleas ah- please, I’ll do anything, please!”
"Good girl, you can cum now." And you do, hard, clamping your pussy around his fingers, moaning into the sunset. 
He took out his fingers, your pussy squelching obscenely and he let out an amused chuckle when your legs shook at the intensity. 
Silently he willed his broom into his open hand and gave you a calculating look. 
“Your pussy is so wet and needy it would take anything at this point, isn’t that right slut?” You bit your lip, cheeks flushing with humiliation as you nodded your head.
James gave you a hard look. “What was that? Speak up.”
“Yes James.”
He pressed to tip of the broom against you lips.
“Stick your tongue out and lick the tip.” You did as you were told, rolling your tongue over the smooth wood of his broom, your spit coating the surface. James was breathing heavy, eyes never leaving your mouth as he pushed the broom a little further into your mouth. “Suck.” Sucking softly you kept eye contact and made sure to let your spit cover the wood. You were messy, some of your spit was trailing down onto your tits and James used it to play softly with your nipples, pinching and twisting until they were a cherry red and hard under his touch. 
He moved to broom downwards, letting the wood caress your hard nipples, further down and lightly brushed your clit. You panted softly, teeth sinkinf into your lips as you watched closely. James stroked your clit with the broom, making you close your eyes and let out small moans, the wood rough against your sensitive skin. He moved lower, the broom pushing firmly on your hole, stretching you out deliciously. You were moaning already, the scene so bizarre, so sinful it made you ache for James. You wanted to please him now, wanted to feel his cock in your mouth and his taste on your lips. You begged him to let you suck his cock, James just shook his head strictly and fucked you faster, the broom hitting your spot and making you see stars. It sounds simple, but it made you feel deeply cared for. He was not only taking charge, he was denying you something you wanted, and still putting your pleasure first. 
His pupils were dialeted as he watched his broom fuck in and out of your, his, tight pussy. You didn’t hold back, fucking and grinding against him, the pleasure making you delirious, your mind slipping into subspace. 
You were blabbering, letting out incoherent phrases, the only word you were able to pronounce was a weak, broken “Please!”, over and over again. James was kissing every part of your body, wanting to be close to you when you came. 
“That’s it darling, fuck my broom. You gonna cum? You gonna cum like this, huh?” He was going harder and faster, wanting to see you finish.
“I want you to push when you cum, you hear me? I want to see you gush all over my broom and I will keep fucking you with it until you do”
The message was clear, James wouldn’t stop until you squirted for him. You were already in subspace from all the pleasure, the last thing you wanted to do was disobey him.
„C‘mon sweetheart be my good girl. Cum for your Jamie hm? You want me to win the game right? Want to make me happy?“
You nodded your head fast, a look of utter adoration and love on your face as you stared into his eyes. He smiled at you, clearly enjoying the attention.
„Them cum, show me what a good slut I have. Show me how much you wanna cum. You‘d do anything for me, wouldn‘t you my love. Fuck, yes go ahead, cum oh fuck-“
Your shriek cut James of, echoing through the woods as you came hard, squirting all over his broom, soaking everything with your cum.
„Fuck baby, that‘s it gimme your cum, ah-“
James panted and moaned as he watched you cum, his face contorted in utter satisfaction.
He pulled the broom out, draping himself over you and pressed you down with his weight into the grass underneath your back. He kissed you deeply, panting into you mouth. James had been so enamored with seeing you cum on his broom, that he came as well, untouched inside of his underwear. Your sight alone reduced him to a desprate mess, your pleasure enough for him to cum as well.
God the boy loved you.
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supercorpkid · 3 years
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Stronger together.
Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Alex Danvers x Niece!Reader
Word count: 2410.
“Starting today, Superkid doesn’t exist anymore.”
The look you get from everyone is of absolute horror. Like you just told them you decided to become a supervillain and you’re going to destroy planet Earth in thirty seconds.
Funny enough, that’s the amount of time it takes for one of them to be able to say something.
“Wait a second.” Aunt Alex is the first one to react. “You’re telling me that the best superhero in National City is quitting? No offense, Kara.”
“None taken, I agree!” Kara jumps right after. “I thought you loved supering?”
“Yeah…” You shrug. “But I love my life a little bit more, so-”
“Baby, shouldn’t you give more thought to this? We’ll support you no matter what, but this is a huge decision.” Lena adds with a concerned tone. You smile.
“Dear Rao, you guys are turning this into a bigger deal than it is.” You roll your eyes with a reassuring smile. “It’s not like I’ll stop existing. I’ll just be a normal teenage girl from now on. Y’know, like Jamie over here.”
“Yeah, well, but-” It’s not hard, but rendering Kara speechless is always exciting.
“Ok, good talk.” You get out of the living room and Jamie follows you into your room.
“Oh wow.” She throws herself in your bed. “That was so dramatic. Thanks for texting me a heads up, I would be shocked if I had found out like that.”
You smile, dismissing it with your hand. “They’ll get over it. It’s not like I was always a superhero anyway.”
“That’s true!” Jamie agrees with her head for a while. “You did save a bunch of people while you were at it, though.”
You shrug.
“Lena was saved so many times, I wonder if she would still be alive if it weren’t for you.” Jamie adds and you look back at her furrowing your eyebrows.
“Supergirl would have saved her.” You don’t even believe your own words.
“Really? Last time I checked Supergirl was unconscious next to her in the Fortress.”
“Well, I-” You squint your eyes. “Stop it. I know what you’re doing. You want me to quit quitting. Well, it’s not going to work. I won’t quit! Quitting, I mean. I won’t quit quitting.” You growl. “Whatever, just stop it.”
“What are you talking about? I’m not trying to make you quit quitting. Especially because, apparently, you can’t super without almost killing yourself. And I don’t like the feeling of losing you every time.”
“You never actually lost me.”
“Ok, standing beside your bed at the DEO not sure if you’re going to wake up is very close to losing you. I don’t think my brain can make the distinction.” Jamie mumbles and your heart squeezes on your chest. You hug her without saying a word, and she lets out a breath that looks like she was holding it for a while.
“I’m sorry for almost dying several times. I promise that things will be easier now.” You shrug and she agrees with her head.
“At least until the next time your hero complex kicks in.” She jokes and you roll your eyes at her. “But you did save me, so… I don’t know. The idea of you not being a superhero is sort of bittersweet.”
“Yeah.” You sit next to her. “To me too.”
“But we will make do.” She throws her arm around your shoulder, hugging you sideways. “Because we are stronger together.”
“Yes, we are.” You agree with a smile.
It’s late at night when the game downstairs ends and Alex shows up at your door to call Jamie. Before leaving, aunt Alex hugs you tight.
“I’m gonna miss saving the world with you.” Alex says with a smile. “You are much better at that than Kara.”
“HEY!” You hear Kara’s interjection downstairs.
“Stop listening to our private conversation!” Alex yells back at her. She puts her hand on your shoulder. “I’ll step up my game of saving people, in your place.”
“That brings me peace of mind.” You smile, earning a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder.
“I’m here for you. You know that, right? Stronger together.” Aunt Alex asks and you hug her in agreement. “Great. I love you, kiddo. You’re my favorite Luthor-Danvers.”
You both stop talking and wait to hear Kara’s reaction. It doesn’t come.
“I’m shocked she obeyed.” Alex says making her way to the stairs and you wave at her.
“I love you too, aunt Alex.”
“Knock, knock.” You hear on the other side of the door, a little before you go to bed. You smile because Kara is such a dork.
“You know, you can actually knock on the door instead of saying it, right?” You say on the other side and Kara opens the door with the biggest smile on her face.
“HA HA, I didn’t know I had raised such a comedy expert.” She jokes, making her way to where you are on your bed. “How are you, little one?”
“I’m great.” You smile at her, sincerely. You are great. Deciding not to be Superkid just took off the biggest weight you’ve been carrying on your shoulders. You feel lighter.
“You know I completely support you.” Kara says, putting one lock of your hair behind your ear. “Whatever you want to do with your life, I’ll be by your side.”
“Thanks, momma.” You smile at her. “I support you too, in case you want to quit anything.”
She chuckles. “Thank you, that’s very sweet of you.” But her expression turns serious after a few seconds. “Being a superhero is-” She sighs, looking for words. You have a bunch to offer her. Exhausting, emotionally draining, insane, traumatic. “Weird.”
“To say the least.”
“Yeah.” Kara lays her head on your lap, looking at you from down there. “It’s weird to describe it because it’s a mix of things. Sometimes-” She smiles looking excited. “It’s the most thrilling feeling in the universe. When you’re up there, wind blowing in your head, and that powerful feeling that you can do and go anywhere. And sometimes you save someone, and oh man!”
“You feel invincible. Like you can take on the world.” You add, and Kara agrees vividly with her head.
“But sometimes, for the lack of a better word, it just straight up sucks.” Kara crinkles her nose, and you smile at how cute she looks. “Sometimes you feel like, yeah you know, I could die for these people because I love them with all my heart.”
“I know that feeling.”
“And they love you so much too! It just feels worthy, right?” She asks and you agree with your head. “But sometimes it doesn’t feel like that. It feels the opposite. There were a few times when I was this close to dying, and I kept thinking ‘but why Kara? Why are you leaving everyone you love behind to die for people who don’t even appreciate you?’”
“Why would you?”
“Kid. I-I don’t know.” Kara lets out another chuckle. “You know what it's like. You’re up there, and you know it has to be you because no one else can do what you’re doing. And there’s something inside that just stops us from turning away and letting it all play out how it was supposed to.”
You also know that feeling. That’s how you ended up in outer space in another reality to save people you didn’t even know that well. To save a reality that wasn’t even yours. And you had the chance to turn your back to it, over and over again. Yet, you never took the easy path.
“What I came here to tell you, is that I get it. I get the feeling. I’ve had it a million of times. When I was giving everything to the world, and it kept taking things from me. I thought about giving up so many times it’s ridiculous.” Kara sighs again. You put your hand on her hair, stroking it gently for support. “So, yeah, I understand.”
“But?” You ask with a tiny smile.
“But if you ever want to do it again, I’ll understand and support you too.” She gets up from your lap and kisses your forehead. “And if you ever need to talk to anyone about this superhero stuff, you can always come to me, cause I’m sure I probably felt the same thing once or twice in my life. Ok? We’re stronger together.”
“Ok, momma. Thank you.”
“Momma got you, little one. Always.” She hugs you tight, and you breathe deep, feeling her comfort. “If I’m being honest, I’m sort of excited that I won’t have to go fish you in outer space anymore.”
“Me too.” You chuckle on her chest. “It’s exhausting, almost dying all alone in a pitch-black dark place with no air in your lungs.”
“It sounds like it.” Kara lets go of you and looks at you, adoringly. “I love you so much, you’re my heart.”
“And you’re mine.” You smile, getting another forehead kiss from Kara.
“Ok, go to bed. It’s late.” She moves to the door but stays there watching you for a little bit. “You’re the best kid in the universe, and we’re so lucky to have you.”
“Thanks momma.” You smile, thankful. It’s good to hear that. In normal circumstances this would make you happy. But where you find yourself right now, it’s even better. It’s good to be reassured that you’re understood, and you’re loved no matter what, and that even though you just gave up being a superhero you’re still the best kid for her. Rao, you love Kara so much.
“Hey.” You hear a soft knock on the door. You don’t use your x-ray vision. You don’t have to. Kara just left so it’s obviously not her.
“Come in, mom.” You say and Lena opens the door, softly. She puts her head inside your bedroom and smiles at you.
“Oh, great. I just wanted to check on you, but you’re going to sleep, right?” She asks and you agree with your head. “Great. Good night, babygirl.”
“Mom, can I ask you something?” You ask and Lena goes inside your bedroom, agreeing with her head. “Can you, um, stay a little?”
“Yeah!” Lena agrees excitedly, like that was exactly what she was thinking. She makes her way to the bed next to you, getting under the comforter with you.
“Sorry for being so codependent these days, I just-”
“Stop.” Lena says pulling you closer. “Come hug me.” You toss your arm over her, and she kisses the top of your head. You can’t see her face, but you know she’s smiling. “I’ve been feeling very codependent too. Actually, if you would have me, I would have been sleeping with you since you were five. But I guess you wanted your independence.”
“Not anymore.” You sigh, hugging her tightly. “I’ve missed you.”
“You know, I went to L Corp after what happened. There were pictures of you everywhere.” You can genuinely hear her smile. “I just kept thinking how crazy that was, but how hard I needed it to be true. Your little face. I mean don’t get me wrong, Kara’s face is beautiful, and I really wanted her to be my family too. But you. I wish I could explain the feeling.”
“It’s like-” You start. “Like this feeling that nothing would make sense. And that, yeah, you would have other people you love around you, but that missing piece is so fundamentally meaningful for the bigger picture, for your life, to make sense. Without it, all of it would fall into pieces and fade into a life you wouldn’t want to live.”
Your ear is so glued to Lena’s chest that you can hear her heart skipping a beat, without having to use your super hearing. You lift your head to look at her, and she’s crying silent tears with a smile on her face.
“Was that how you felt without me?” She asks and you nod, biting your lower lip. “Oh, my baby!” She pulls you into the hug again. “My baby.”
Lena just spends a few minutes stroking your hair, gently. It feels so nice you feel yourself dozing off to sleep. But you wouldn’t want to keep her stuck under you, so you fight it.
“Listen-” Lena calls you and you change position so you can look at her. “I know I wasn’t always as supportive as I should’ve been about your supering. It’s not that I don’t appreciate it. I mean, I have to appreciate it more than anyone because you keep saving my life. It’s just, when you’re out there, I get so scared.”
“I know.” You agree softly. “But momma is out there too, and you-”
“Almost die every time she gets just the tiniest scratch. Yeah.” She smiles, and you furrow your eyebrows. “But I sort of, oof, this is hard to say. When I married your momma, I knew who she was, what she does, I knew how saving the world was important for her. I knew I could lose her to it, eventually.” Lena breathes deep, wiping her tears. “But you? I can’t fathom the thought that one day I may lose you. I just-I just can’t.”
“Well, I’m not a hero anymore so you don’t have to worry.” You reassure her, but Lena bites her tongue, definitely not reassured.
“I’ll always worry. And you know why?” Lena asks and you shake your head, disagreeing. “Because you are my baby. And even when you’re forty you’ll still be my baby, and I’ll still be terrified just to think about you not being in my life anymore.”
“What if I get married and have kids and move somewhere else?” You ask and Lena smiles at the thought.
“That will happen! And then-” She whispers to you, so Kara can’t hear her. Which is ridiculous because if Kara is listening, she can hear her breath, let alone her words. “I’ll leave Kara in the middle of the night, and go to your house, kick your wife to another bedroom, and snuggle in with you like we’re doing right now.”
You chuckle at the thought. God, you love Lena so much. “You promise?”
“Of course.” Lena kisses your forehead. “We’re stronger together.”
You smile at her words, and close your eyes again, feeling like you can finally fall asleep. But you still hear, somewhere far away, before you sleep completely, Lena’s voice reassuring you. “I love you, babygirl. All of you. Always.”
Notes:
Hope this count as the fluffiest of fluffs @lonelydiary cause I thought they were so sweet here 💙
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mysticalrambling · 3 years
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Love Conquers All (The Originals)
Epilogue
(Y/N) means your name and (Y/LN) means your last name.
Warnings: none. Angst and fluff all the way.
Summary: Dad!Klaus. (Y/N) finds out that you are pregnant and runs away from Klaus. After five years of avoiding him, Freya discovers your secret and it will all be revealed in time. At last, love will conquer all.
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“Hope, you need to be really good.” There was a very good chance that your hyper active daughter will get distracted in the end. But if this plan works then it would be one of the best day of your lives.
Your first daughter was an accident (no regrets there) but after you married the love of your life, you wanted to expand your family. Both of you have been trying from the past year but were met with disappointment at the end of every month. This was going to be so much different from your first pregnancy because your partner will be by your side this time.
“Love, where are you?” Calling out from the hallway, you could hear Klaus’s footsteps coming towards you.
“Hope, I am going to distract your dad. Just remember your part please and finish your drawing quickly.” Intercepting your husband midway, you started talking to him about Hope’s upcoming play in her school and both of your participation at the ticket booth. Klaus protested because he found all the other parents annoying. The great Klaus Mikaelson had a reputation to uphold. But you just giggled quietly because you remembered him in a pink tiara acting as a princess with Hope just last night.
When you thought that enough time had passed by, you gently ushered Klaus in the room. “Surprise!” Your voice died down in your throat when you saw the startled face of your little munchkin smeared in yellow frosting.
“What is this? ‘E are pect?” The writing on the mini cupcakes was destroyed by the little devil perched on the coffee table.
“Hope! I told you I would give you the cupcakes afterwards,”
“Mommy, Mr Fluffs ate the icing. I told him not to.” She hid her hands behind her back and gave you her puppy dog eyes.
“What’s going on?” Klaus interjected before you became distracted by the argument.
“I will deal with you later but now show Daddy your card.” She slowly hopped off the table and extended her card that now had yellow imprints on it. Klaus always savored moments like these because he had missed a huge part of her life. And soon his little girl will transform in to a moody teenager who is too cool for her old man.
He recognised the three stick figures that were hastily drawn on the pink paper but there was another small one on the side of the paper.
“Who is the fourth one, baby?” He bent down to her level and tried to decipher the glittery mess.
“Read the card, daddy!” She pointed her chubby, little finger towards the end of the paper. As his eyes skimmed over the scribbled handwriting, a gasp escaped his soft lips. Written were the words, “I am going to be a big sister”.
“Is this-? You are-?” The Klaus Mikaelson was reduced to a sputtering mess and when he saw tears in your eyes, he immediately lifted you off the ground, “We are going to be parents again.” Klaus’s happiness knew no bounds and you both were just basking in each others presence.
Munching sounds from somewhere behind you took you out of your bubble. “Hope Andrea Mikaelson, stop eating the cupcakes!”
“It’s okay, (Y/N). Let her enjoy this moment as well.”
“She will get a sugar rush and I am not dealing with it.” Your pregnancy hormones were going haywire and you already knew that this baby will be a lot different from your elder daughter.
“Okay, darling. No more sweets for the whole week.” Picking his daughter up, he took her to get cleaned up and easily slipped in to his dad mode. This baby was going to be a new chapter in your lives and you were excited for it.
--------1 and a half year later--------
“Hope, stop trying to put glitter on your brother.” Klaus was running after his two munchkins but Hope had a mind of her own. She put a freezing spell on James and dumped the pink glitter on him. Little Jamie was terrified the instant he couldn’t move his chubby little feet. The nine month old let out a piercing wail and blasted her sister across the couch.
“What is happening here?” You came in the moment you heard your children crying on the top of their lungs. They both had been a handful from the very start and their powers are uncontrollable now. Sure, Freya is helping them rein their powers but it was not helping.
Klaus was rocking Hope gently in his arms while nursing the cut on her forehead. Immediately, you went to your sobbing infant and picked him up. The glitter transferred to your clothes as he clinged on to you like a Koala. “Hope, why would you do this?” You asked flustered.
“He destroyed my painting for Daddy.” Exclaiming it with tears flowing through her eyes, she laid her head on her father’s shoulder.
“Mistake.” Jamie hiccuped and you gently rubbed his back. Slowly, Hope’s cut healed and your husband let out a sigh of relief. He can not bear to see anything to happen to his family. One time, he went ballistic on Freya when James got stung by a wasp. She just shut him up with a sleeping spell and boy, was Klaus mad.
“Honey, give me Jamie. I’ll shower him while you both go change.” Klaus took charge of the situation because he knew that they were all going to be late for the fourth of July dinner at Kol’s house. He would rather send some alone time with his family but you insist on socialising.
“I have left out his red and blue onesie on the bed.” You called out after your two boys and a soft giggle was sent your way.
You all got ready with Hope wearing a blue white striped summer dress with her pink pumps and you in a maroon dress with intricate lacing. Klaus had opted for a simple white button down with khaki pants. And the casual look just made him more appealing.
The kids went in to the living room to play with their toys, the feud between them long forgotten. Klaus took you in his arms as you were giving a final touch to your makeup. He gazed at you through the mirror while you gently laid your head on his shoulder.
“I am so lucky to have you. You are my saving grace and thank you for the two little munchkins.”Klaus was truly thankful to have you in his life and the thousand years of misery has finally paid off.
“I am just as grateful for you, trust me.”
“I love you, baby and this all is going to stay the same.” Gently, he turned you around and pecked your lips.
“I love you too and is that a promise, Mr Mikaelson?”
“Always and Forever. Now, let’s get going.” You both went out and strapped the kids in to the car for the long 30 minutes ride.
Hope you guys enjoyed it!!
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A/N : This series has officially come to an end. Really enjoyed writing this. When I first came up with the plot I really didn’t wasn't sure if I wanted to complete it. Thank you to each one of you for giving your love and support to this series. Hope you like this. Let me know what you think.
P.S. If you want to send blurb requests based on the series (dad!Klaus) I'm more than eager to write so send me your ideas. I would love it❤️
Like, comment and reblog.
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sunaswife · 4 years
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Summary: It’s been five years since you’ve seen your ex, Rin. He’s still not over you and you’re not over him. When he finds out you have children he thought he didn’t have a chance. Then he finds out they’re his? All of a sudden you’re teaching Suna how to be a single dad.
A/N: I made some new friends who are fellow writers on discord and my heart I— 🥺 cookie if you’re reading this be the ryu to my saeko
Warnings: Fluff, angst I guess, drama, and cuteness twin overload
Previously Up Next Masterlist
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Chapter five
“And the champions are MSBY Black Jackals! Y/N, was that an amazing game or what?!” Your co-commentator said as he turned to you. “That was probably one of the best games I’ve seen all season. I find it crazy that I managed to see the first game Ninja Shoyo and Tobio had against eachother in middle school and Tobio’s team won by a landslide but now watching them both after all this time? Wow it’s just amazing. The Jackals deserve this win.” You said and he nodded.
When the game ended you saw your kids run up to Bokuto and Atsumu and you mentally groaned as the sound tech tried to remove the headset and the wireless mic from your pants. You then sighed in relief when Hinata hugged them both and took them away. Jamie took a picture of Hinata and your kids because he wanted to post a before and after of when they looked like little potatoes.
You didn’t have a chance to go back to your kids or even congratulate Hinata. You were swiftly taken away by Kuroo and the rest of the team for a quick meeting. Your face turned bright red when they all praised you for doing an amazing job and how intriguing you made the match sound. You knew a lot of the monster generation due to nationals and training camps and your cousin and the people loved how you talked a little more about how much their favorite players have grown since you’ve been there to see it all.
When the meeting ended you texted Jamie to meet you in the hallway near the locker rooms. Tobio wasn’t answering your texts and you wanted to see if he wanted to come over to your home so you could all eat and watch a movie to end the first day of your new job. Tobio is probably upset about his loss but he acknowledged how much stronger Hinata has gotten so he probably shouldn’t be too beaten up about it.
The hallway was empty occasionally a few workers passed by. Kuroo wanted to speak with you after but he was held back by other responsibilities and he asked to call you and you nodded with a soft smile. So now you waited alone for Tobio, Jamie and your kids to make their way.
You heard a few foot steps so you turned to see familiar faces and If seeing Atsumu today wasn’t good enough imagine seeing his twin and your ex boyfriend?
It’s too soon.
You quickly turned your head and started walked to where the locker rooms were and the footsteps moved faster. “Kageyama wait!” Suna said, his voice was deeper and he pleaded so desperately. You close your eyes and stop walking. Their footsteps slowed and you turned around. Even in heels you were facing his chest. He certainly looks ever more fit in person then in pictures you managed to see on the internet. His hair was slightly shorter but he was handsome as ever. You slowly looked up to meet his fox like eyes and it felt like forever.
“Um...hi..how’s everything?” You asked awkwardly, “Everything is fine I guess. I went pro.” He said quietly and you smiled. His eyes softened, you looked so beautiful and mature. You now wore your hair down, in beautiful curls. You’re wearing heels, high heels. You also are wearing a little more makeup then what you used to wear in highschool but you still looked breathtakingly beautiful. He saw you doing your thing up there in the commentator stand and he was beyond proud how how far you’ve come and he hopes you’re just as proud of him.
“That’s wonderful, Suna.” You said softly and his heart clenched.
No.
Call me Rintarou, Rin, babe, anything but Suna.
“Hello, Kageyama. It’s been a long time.” Osamu spoke up and you turned to him. “It has, how’s everything?” You asked him. “Finally took the culinary path, I own a restaurant called Onigiri Miya.” He said. “That’s amazing. I’m so happy for both of you but I really need to go—“
“So soon? We were looking for you everywhere.” Suna said quickly, “Tsumu told us you were here.” Osamu said and you gritted your teeth. “Son of a bitch can’t keep his mouth shut.” You huffed. Their eyes widened, since when did you have a potty mouth?
“How long have you been a commentator?” Suna asked, “This was my first pro match. I used to be a ref for highschool, middle school and elementary teams.” You said and he nodded. You heard little footsteps at a fast pace and children’s laughter.
Holy shit.
This is not good.
Oh my god.
“I told you kids to stop running!” You heard Jamie and the two men turned to see Jamie chasing after those two brats from earlier. “Jamie?” Osamu said in disbelief. “Where’s mommy? She said she’ll be here. I wanna tell her that Rubens asked me to marry him.” Akira said and your eyes widened. Your daughter looked up and she screamed. “ITS MIYA ATSUMU!” She yelled, “I get to see you again!” She said as she ran. “Akira don’t run without me!” Rini yelled. Before your daughter could come tackle Osamu you quickly made your way between the two men and you scooped them both up in one swift motion. “How many times have I told you guys to not run in the halls?” You said with your back facing the two men.
The secret was out. You’re screwed. There is nothing you can do now. “A lot.” They said deafeated in unison. “And how many times have I told you to stop bulldozing people?” You asked. “A lot.” They replied robotically.
“Then why do you both keep misbehaving? When I’ve told you many times not to.” You said and set them down.
“Sorry, mommy.”
“Mommy?” Suna asked, your twins finally turned a bit to see who that mystery man was and they gasped.
“Yeah, I’m their mom.” You cleared your throat and you turned and straighten your posture.
“The cats out of the bag.” Atsumu said as he leaned against the wall. Since when has he been there?
“Oh—ok..” he said quietly. Now he knows he doesn’t have a chance anymore. Whoever you’re with is lucky to have you as a wife and the mother of their children. But he should have known, you’re a catch. Who wouldn’t want you as their wife?
“Mommy, is he our dad.” Rini spoke and you almost choked. Atsumu actually spit his water and Jamie and Osamu almost fainted.
Wait what?!
“The what?” Suna asked. “Rini no—“ you said quickly. “He’s not? But we look the same. And you have a photo of him in your box under your—“ “That’s enough.” You cut him off. You didn’t like using that tone with him or Akira but you don’t know how Suna is going to react.
“T-they’re mine?” Suna spoke up. “No—I mean yes—I mean. It’s complicated. Why don’t you give me your phone number and we can meet up privately and talk about it.” You said quickly. This was so embarrassing, and just awkward. Especially in front of everyone.
“It’s a simple question, Y/N. It’s either a yes or a no. Which is it so I can leave or I can get on the phone with my lawyer.” His whole demeanor changed and your kids hid behind your legs. His eyes narrowed at their actions. “Lawyer for what?” You asked. “Yes or no.” He ignored your question. Jamie took a step forward but Atsumu grabbed her shoulder to stop her and she quickly smacked it away.
“Yes, you’re their father.” You said and he sighed and rubbed his face. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He immediately asked. “I tried to.” You told him. “When?” He asked. “A week before I was due.” You replied. “Which was what..? In September? I got a new number. How could you act so stupid.” He said and you gasped. “Excuse me?” You immediately got defensive. “You’re calling me stupid?” You asked. “Yeah well you could have found other ways if you really tried!” He said, “The twins didn’t change their numbers, you knew my address. There was no excuse for you to not tell me.” He said and you scoffed. “Sorry for being depressed that my first boyfriend started dating me over a stupid bet and I was traumatized from dealing with a pregnancy all on my own. Sorry for caring more about you—“
“How were you caring about me? Huh? Tell me!” He said with a raised voice. In all honesty you raised your voice first. “Rintarou, were you willing to give up everything? Volleyball, college, happiness, to raise two children? Were you willing to sleep on the cold floor in a cramped studio apartment, wishing you had enough money to buy yourself a bed. But you needed to feed your kids and buy them clothes. Tell me rin, would you have done that?” You screamed. “Would you be willing to suffer and deal with strangers and family members telling you how stupid and how much of a whore you were for having children so young. I didn’t tell you so that I save you from that. So you could do this.” You motioned. “So you could go pro and live your dream. Believe me Suna I was going to tell you eventually. When I had a feeling you were ready.” You said.
“I did this for you.” Your voice cracked.
“Mommy we’re sorry. We don’t need a dad, let’s go home.” Rini spoke up and he pulled your pants leg. “When you cry it makes me cry mommy, please stop.” Akira’s voice shook. You reached down to rub their heads.
“Well, Rin. There you have it. There you all have it.” You said and glanced at the twins and at Tobio and Hinata who were peering over the wall. You pressed under your eyes to stop the tears. “If you want to be in their life, let me know. If not then don’t waste my time and ask me stupid questions. I did what I did for a reason, not because I was being petty.” You spoke up.
So what should he do?
He just stood there in complete shock. So you took that as your answer. “Well if you excuse me, it’s late and I need to get my kids in bed. They have school tomorrow.” You said and held their hands as you passed by Suna and Osamu, you didn’t dare look at Atsumu and Hinata and Kageyama’s heart broke when they saw the single tear fall down your face.
You didn’t look back, but your kids did. And they looked at their father with so much hurt and betrayal. They’re homeschooled, you as their mother and teacher get to decide what they learn. Normal kindergartners learn how to spell their names and read. But they’re already advanced, I mean you were the top student in your class. Made sense you’d turn your children into kid geniuses. They were already fluent in English as well, and they read a lot. Not because they have to but they genuinely like it. Akira can sit for hours and Rini did too but after a few pages he starts rambling and giving a book report about all the interesting things he read.
They’ve read books and seen shows and movies of a perfect family. A son, a daughter, a mother, a father, and a dog or cat.
That’s all they wanted.
They wanted a complete family. They want to see their father reach up to the highest shelf to help you grab some plates, and they wanted him to read them books, they even wanted to know if their father liked listening to old rock bands and watching anime like you and them.
They wanted to know if there was anything similar between their father and them other than appearance. But they would never know that. They finally saw Rin turn and he looked at those two kids, it’s honestly scary how similar they look to him. He took a step towards you, but before they could tell you, you turned the corner and they decided it was best to just drop it.
They didn’t need a dad anyways, right?
They’re doing just fine with a single mom.
They’re just feeling selfish, right?
But they don’t understand, they’re only five.
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A/N: childhood trauma at its finest smh I’m in tears why tf do u still read this shit 😫😭
🏷: @therealwalmartjesus @differentballooncollection @aaesuki @atsunflower @dope-squish @prettysetterboiss @june-phantom @tomo-uwu @austriasmariazelle @xrnia @katsulia @aprettyfruit @shut-your-eyes-kiss-me-goodbye @tvbiio @sun-daddy-yoriichi @kamenoyaki @ppangiiroo @loeyprivvv @kmskj92 @lovinnoya @sarahvvictoria @tris-does-stuff @mokkeguts @sunaluvr6969 @bara-rose-would @sempiternal-amour @volleybloop @leykyuu @bokutoichigo @stfucanunot @tpwkatsumu @ohshirabu @shoutosimp @mqrinqcele @bokutosdivineass @anngelllla @toworuu @hidden-otaku-stuff @seijohiselite @caxsthetic @aquariarose @hhwanggu @bakuhoetoedoroki @yoozuku @osamus-onigiri @akaashi-todorki @donica95 @kakaokenma @airheadpillar @sredamancy
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dameronology · 4 years
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the story of us {poe dameron}
for @unstoppableforcce​ for the v.day fix exchange (organised by the lovely @sergeantkane​!) i hope you enjoy❤️
warnings: probably a few swear words, but other than that, it’s all g 
- jamie 
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The galaxy didn’t stop for anything. Not even Valentine’s Day
And it sucked. It really sucked. Not because you and Poe ever went all out (who had the time?) but because it was one day that you should have spent together and you were both busy. It wasn’t his fault, nor was it yours. The Resistance was more demanding than ever and you both had to prioritise fighting the good fight. If you didn’t, neither of you would have had much of a galaxy to live in, let alone be together in. Despite that, Poe always made a point of reminding you how much he loved you on every regular day - it was more so in the things he did for you, like bringing you your favourite coffee every morning and leaving you little notes on the mirror in the refresher. 
Unbeknownst to you, however, he had a few things up his sleeve (in typical Dameron fashion). It had started in the morning when you’d woken up to find a picture of the two of you stuck to the mirror. It was one that Finn had taken not long before you’d begun dating; you’d both been tired from a mission, and he’d come to the mess hall to find you and Poe passed out on another. You were slumped against him, his arm strewn across your shoulder and both your mouths hanging open. Even though you hadn’t quite woken up properly, you couldn’t help but grin at the picture - even more so when you saw what was written on the back. 
Four years ago: the day I realised I liked you a lot more than I should have. 
You tucked the photo into the pocket of your jeans, barely able to hide your smile as you headed to work. 
The base itself had been decorated for the day - Leia’s doing, probably - with love heart banners strewn across the walls and colourful glitter poured in random places. You’d learnt about the latter apart when Rey had activated her lightsaber, only to get blasted in the face with a mouthful of pink and red hearts. Your joy, however, had been short lived when you’d realised that it was all over your shared office. How much did you want to bet that you’d still be finding it in the crevices of your desk next year? 
‘A wonderful start to the day.’ Rey muttered, dumping the laser sword onto the table. 
‘I am not cleaning that up.’ You teased. 
When you took a seat at your desk, you noticed another photo stuck to the monitor of your holopad. It was from a trip you and Poe had taken to Yavin-4 as friends. Everyone at the time had called bullshit on that part, and you both knew it too. It was at the end of said trip that he’d confessed his feelings for you, and you’d had your first kiss under the moonlight in the backyard of his childhood home. It sounded very romantic, but not moments later, there had been a clap of thunder and the heavens had opened on you. The picture was of you and him wrapped in a blanket by the fire, both drenched to the bone as you shivered together. Kes had taken the picture when neither of you were looking, and he’d managed to catch Poe peering down at you, brown eyes filled with adoration. It was definitely one of your favourite photos together. 
Peeling it off the monitor, you flipped it around to look at the message on the back. 
Three years and eight months ago: the day I realised I loved you (even though I didn’t say it for like...another six months. Thanks for being patient). 
‘Everything okay?’ Rey asked.
‘Yeah.’ You glanced up at her, forcing a smile. ‘Just kinda bummed that Poe’s been called out all day.’ 
‘I’m sorry.’ She placed a hand on your shoulder. ‘If it’s any comfort, I saw him sneaking around the base with armfuls of photos of you earlier.’ 
‘Sneaking?’ You snorted.
‘Okay, trying to sneak.’ 
‘Poe Dameron is a lot of things, but subtle is not one of them.’ You grinned.
The statement rung completely true: his inability to not get excited about everything and tell everyone about whatever his plans were meant that the entire base knew about his surprises before you did. When he’d proposed to you, he’d sworn to himself that he was only going to tell Finn in advance. Then, Poe had told Rey too in a moment of joy, and then Kare, and then Snap, and then Leia and before he knew it, he’d had to spend the entire day running around the place, making them promise to keep schtum. By some miracle, the message didn’t get back to you, and the whole thing did end up being a surprise. 
In fact, the third photo - one you’d found in your desk drawer - was from that day. Poe had tried to take a selfie with you, only for you to kiss him just as the camera went off. Your hand was resting on the side of his cheek, Shara’s ring glinting under the flash of the camera. The picture had been his holopad background ever since, and the message on the back was almost enough to made you cry. 
Two years ago: the day you promised to be with me forever, even though I’m a pain in the ass 
You found the fourth photo in one of your files, not long after your lunch break. It was paperwork from a mission that you’d been filing the night before, so he must have snuck it in whilst you were still asleep. It lead you to wonder how long he’d been planning the whole thing for - knowing him, it was probably months. He managed to pull something so sweet and so personal off each year, and this was probably your favourite one so far. The fact he’d managed to do something so thoughtful and so kind without even being there was a testament to Poe Dameron himself. 
The photo that fell out of your paperwork was from just over a year ago. It was one of you, Rey, Finn and Poe in one of your favourite cantinas. It had been after a successful mission, and the drinks were flowing all night, smiles hardly faltering until you all fell asleep. You were sat on Poe’s lap, his arms looped around your front and his head resting on your shoulder. The night was a little blurry - too much beer, perhaps - and you couldn’t even remember who had taken it. Either way, it was still one of your favourites, because it was your entire world contained to one single photo. The message on the back was just as Poe as the last three. 
Thirteen months ago: the day I realised I was with the greatest people in the galaxy (you take top spot, but Finn and Rey are pretty cool too) 
The rest of the ones that you found through out the day were all throwbacks to other important moments in your relationship. There was one of you in his hoodie, titled the day I realised you looked better in my clothes than I do and another of the two of you fixing his X-Wing, labelled the day I realised you know nothing about X-Wings. Both of your faces were smeared with grease, and you were in fits of giggles together about something. You hadn’t realised how lucky you were to have friends that enjoyed taking pictures. 
By the time dinner rolled around, you’d collected about twenty photos. The fact that you hadn’t seen Poe yet completely sucked, but his little stunt had kept you smiling all day. Even if he wasn’t with you physically, you knew he was thinking about you. Hell, he was always thinking about you, not just exclusively today. His ability to bring you up in every conversation and namedrop you to anyone who would listen was testament to that. 
As the day passed and the sky dimmed, you retired to your desk with some caff from the mess-hall and a pile of papers. Rey had long disappeared to do...Jedi stuff? Whatever the hell that deemed, you weren’t sure. It meant that you were left alone in the office, glancing between your files and the pile of photos you’d accumulated throughout the day with a soft smile. Your holopad occasionally beeped with messages, but it wasn’t until you heard Poe’s specified notification sound that you finally pushes aside your work to check them. 
Meet me in the hangar - bring the photos.
You grinned at the message - finally. 
Grabbing your jacket - actually, it was Poe’s - and tossing it over your shoulders, you flicked the lights in your office off and headed for the hangar. The hallways were pretty much empty by then; everybody else was either having dinner or spending the evening with their respective significant other.  It meant that you could easily sprint to where you needed to be, without having to worry about crashing into anyone or being reprimanded by a stingy commander. 
You met Poe halfway across the room, bodies colliding together as he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you in the air. He spun you around for a moment, before placing you firmly on the ground and crashing his lips onto yours. They were warm and soft and so familiar, a welcome contrast from the pain you’d been feeling all day from missing him. The little collection of photos had only reminded you of how much he meant to you (everything) and made the yearning even stronger. His grip on you barely faltered as he pulled away, pausing to admire you for a moment.
‘Happy Valentine’s day, baby.’ Poe grinned. 
‘Right back at you.’ You pressed a kiss to his jaw. ‘Is there a particular reason that we’re in the hangar?’
‘We’re going somewhere.’ His smile only grew wider. 
‘Aaaand where might that be?’ You quirked an eyebrow. 
‘It’s a surprise.’ He flung an arm around your shoulders, leading you towards the ships. ‘I know it’s a little late, but I spent most the afternoon begging the General to let me use the Falcon.’ 
‘How’d that go?’
‘Dreadfully.’ Poe snorted, pulling you closer into his side. ‘But she said yes.’
‘You’re kidding?’ 
You’d only been on the Millenium Falcon a few times, but it was hands down your favourite ship. There was so much history behind it - not just between you and Poe, but for the Resistance the Rebellion in general. You dreaded to think how much grovelling your husband had done on your behalf to make Leia agree to let the two of you borrow it, but it wasn’t something you were going to complain about. It was far better than being cramped into the one-person cockpit of his X-Wing; that was something you’d done many, many times and you always ended up with a back-ache. 
‘Am I allowed even a clue?’ You asked, following him up the ramp and into the ship.
‘You do know what a surprise is, right?’ Poe teased, leading you through the galley. 
You rolled your eyes, shaking your head with a smile. ‘You’re normally terrible at them.’
‘I think I pulled off today’s pretty well.’ He grinned at you. 
You both took a seat in the cockpit. Your eyes lingered on the dice hanging up by the window for a moment -- even though Leia had originally kept them on her person, she ended up returning them to the ship for safe-keeping and good luck. Your heart always stung a little when you looked at them, just because you knew the history behind them. They held the same sort of sentiment of the ring on your finger and all the photos you’d collected today: memories. Years and years of memories, some filled with love, and some bittersweet ones. You knew, however, that your story was going to have a happier ending. 
---
Poe didn’t fly for too long -- maybe forty five, fifty minutes. 
You’d spent most of the journey chatting about everything and nothing, as you often did. You gelled so well together that you could easily spend hours talking, and completely forget about the world around you. It was one of the things you loved about Poe, especially when there were times that you needed to forget your surroundings. He was always an escape, and in the best way possible. A reminder that, even though the galaxy could be dark, there was always good. He went out of his way to remind you to be hopeful, and to fight for the best. And, more often that not, he would reference the two of you finding each other in the Resistance as an example of it. 
‘Are you gonna tell me where we are now?’ You asked. 
‘Nope.’ Poe replied. ‘C’mon. It’s not too far of a walk.’
His arm returned to your shoulders as you exited the jet, boots met with wet ground - sand. 
Not just the sand, but the beach. 
The smell of sea salt hung in the air, clearing your senses of the stuffy, recycled air that surrounded the base. It was clear and crisp, hitting your skin with a welcomed iciness. You could hear the sound of the ocean in the distance, slowly to-and-froing, crashing against the land with a gentle whoosh, almost as if it were greeting you. 
‘C’mon.’ 
Poe suddenly grabbed you from behind, lifting you up in the air and catching your legs before they could hit the ground. He had one arm tucked under yours and the other under your knees, carrying with ease through the jungle and towards the sound of the sea. He held you close to his chest, brown eyes concentrating on the ground ahead of you so that he didn’t trip. He was always beautiful, but even more so under the moon-light of the evening, casting a silver glow over the two of you as he broke through the trees and out onto the plains of the sand, 
‘D’you know where we are now?’ He gently asked, placing you on the ground. His arm returned to your side, snaking around your waist and pulling you back towards him. 
‘Yeah.’ You smiled. ‘Four years ago, you crashed your X-Wing just over there.'
‘And you pulled me out the wreckage before the whole thing went up in flames.’ He continued the story. 
‘It was my first day and I had no idea what to do.’ You remembered it with a soft laugh. 
‘You saved my ass.’ He pressed a kiss to your temple. ‘And frankly, you’ve done it every day since.’
He turned so that he was facing you, one hand resting on your hip and the other on the back of your neck. For all his funny moments and grandeur, Poe Dameron could be soft as fuck. It was something that very few people every got to see, and mostly something that he saved for you, and only you. It was something you often witnessed under the covers of the dark, when it was just the two of you laying in bed together, softly murmuring about your day. 
‘I love you, Poe.’ You murmured. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t - ah fuck. 
‘I love you more.’ He gave you a watery grin. ‘I did give you those photos for a reason, though.’
‘Yeah?’
He fumbled around the backpack he’d brought, producing a book. It had a picture of you, him and BB-8 on the front, with The Story of Us scribbled across the front in his mildly terrible hand writing. He flipped it open, to show several empty pages. 
‘It’s dumb and cheesy as fuck, but I wanted somewhere to keep all those photos.’ He explained. ‘I know that we know our story, but it’s nice to look back at them, right?’
‘It is.’ You smiled. ‘Those photos made my whole day.’
‘I’m glad.’ He beamed back at you. ‘And we can keep adding to it. I’d like to think that this is only just the beginning.’ 
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freewayshark · 2 years
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No one else has ever heard of H-E Double Hockey Sticks when I mention it, but you’re writing an au? Please share something!
Hiiiiiiiii that’s because it’s criminally underrated 😭😭😭 but here, have the opening which is still very rough and since it’s a little long for the dash I’ll put it below the cut
Taylor wants to see him.
Buck’s been avoiding her since his last gig went horns up, which, side note, wasn’t his fault! Ali was simply too smart to fall for his scheme! It happens, but it happens to Buck… a lot.
He just, y’know, doesn’t feel good about scamming people out of their souls when he can tell those souls are actually good. Give him a scumbag any day of the week and it’s ready set go.
Taylor loves snatching a good person’s soul though, and she is head demon in charge, so what she says goes.
Hence: she wants to see him, and he doesn’t want to see her.
He goes though, because he knows it’s inevitable, and better he goes willingly than wait until she sends the hellhounds after him.
“Well, look who’s finally showing his face,” Taylor says when he slumps into her office. She arches a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “About damn time, Bucklekin.”
Buck winces at the use of his utterly ridiculous full name. “It’s Buck,” he says wearily, even though he knows she’ll keep calling him the full thing just to torment him.
She smiles what is meant to be sweetly, but there’s just too many teeth involved. “Bucklekin, we need to have a discussion about your performance as of late,” she says, gesturing at the chairs in front of her desk. Buck sits, finding himself immediately uncomfortable. He wiggles around, trying to find a comfortable position before he remembers where he is. Taylor’s probably found a way to make sure there is no possible way to sit comfortably in these chairs.
It’s also just this side of too cold, the kind where if he put on a jacket he would immediately be too hot, so he sits uncomfortably and tries not to shiver.
“Look, I know it’s been a while since I nabbed a soul—”
“It’s been three years.”
Buck’s mouth goes dry. “Oh, Ah. That long?” He squeaks.
“Yes, that long. Bucklekin, I lined you up nicely with that last job. Ali Martin was primed to take the deal! We had an agent on the inside fucking with her at work, making her feel like she’s never going to be able to climb the ladder through skill and hard work alone, all you had to do was seal the deal! But the next thing I know, not only has she not taken the deal, but she quit her job and got a better one at a different company, all after you were whispering in her ear. That’s unacceptable.”
Buck gulps. “Look, Taylor, she saw through me in an instant, she was just too smart—”
“They’re always too something. Ali was too smart, Jamie was too happy with his life, Sasha was too pretty, you always have some sort of excuse for why your deals fall through. You know what I think? I think your gig with Abby—”
“Don’t bring her into this,” Buck growls before he can think better of taking a tone with the boss lady.
Taylor cocks her head to the side, studying him. “I think,” she says, and Buck braces himself for her to keep going with that last train of thought, but instead she veers left. “I think you’ve gone soft. And a soft demon is no use to me.”
“So what, are you going to fire me?”
Her smile turns downright vicious. “Do you think being a failure here means you just get let go so you can go sling electronics at Best Buy for minimum wage? Oh, Bucklekin, you sweet little idiot.” She leans over the desk towards him, literal fire in her eyes. “Where do you think the hellhounds come from?”
Buck feels struck dumb. “I—Are they not…born?”
She makes a mock sympathetic face. “Oh, sweetie, no. They’re made. When one of you little underlings stops being useful walking around out there on two legs it’s time for you to try on four. But you’re lucky, Bucklekin, because you’re pretty. I like looking at you, all human shaped, and won’t get nearly the satisfaction if I turn you into a hound. So I’m giving you one more chance.” She slides a file across her desk with one long, pointy red fingernail. “Get me this man’s soul and that’ll get me off your back for a few years.”
Buck takes the file, but he doesn’t look at it. “Just like that, this one soul and you’ll leave me alone for a while?” He asks, suspicious, because it can’t be that easy.
“There’s a lot can be said about me, but I always hold up my end of a bargain. So yes, get me that soul, and you’re golden.”
He wets his lips. Weighs the folder in his hands. He can do this. “Deal.”
She smirks. “Good. Now get the fuck out of my office.”
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scapegrace74-blog · 4 years
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Ginger Snap, Chapter 3
A/N  And just like that, here’s another chapter of Ginger Snap.  This one has no Chef!Jamie (at least not in person, but he is the invisible third presence in the room) but read it anyway!  He’ll be back in the next chapter, I promise.
Previous chapters are best enjoyed on my Ao3 page, because I have a bad habit of going back and editing them after they’ve been posted.
I appraised my reflection in a plate glass window.  Today was my thirtieth birthday.  I’d spent most of the day at a fancy salon having assorted hairs waxed, plucked and uncoiled.   Twenty minutes in the capricious October wind, and my sleek hairstyle was on the verge mutiny.  I smoothed it down as best I could with my palms, mentally shrugged my shoulders, then entered the upscale restaurant.
“Happy birthday, darling.”  Frank left a dry kiss on my cheek, careful to not mar my make-up, as he greeted me.  “You look very beautiful with your hair straight like that.”
It was clear why Frank had chosen the Witchery for my birthday celebration.  Nestled against Edinburgh Castle, it radiated history with its dark woods, tapestry-covered walls, burgundy banquettes and faux Tudor painted ceiling.  Everywhere crystal and silverware reflected the bountiful candlelight.  I pictured Jamie’s thick-soled work boots striding across the antique Persian carpets towards the kitchen and had to suppress a giggle.
Frank stood respectfully while the maître d’ pulled out my chair.  He played the part of the genteel academic to a tee.  Ten years’ my senior, he sported thick-framed glasses, a full head of dark hair and a trim figure that spoke more to abstemious habits than vigorous exercise.  Still, he was wearing his best tailored suit and the tie I’d bought him for Christmas.  I reminded myself that I was lucky to be in a relationship with a decent, courteous and dependable man who offered me the stability my tumultuous childhood had been sadly lacking.
We conversed quietly as we each perused the leather-bound menus, the noise of other diners a discrete background hum.  Frank told me all about the history of the sixteenth century oak panels that lined the room, and I listened politely.
“It’s so refreshing to see an establishment buck the trend of those horrendous open-style kitchens,” he pronounced with a dramatic shudder.
“Oh, I don’t know.  I rather enjoy watching the orchestrated chaos that goes into making my meal.  It’s like dinner theatre,” I contradicted.
“Some things are better appreciated unseen, darling.  It’s like that gaudy museum we visited in Paris.  Ductwork and elevator shafts on display along with the art.  It’s tremendously distracting, and not at all the point.”
He was referring to our visit to the Pompidou Centre the previous summer.  I had found the juxtaposition of modern art and naked architecture fascinating.   Frank much preferred the Louvre.
I was saved from having to defend my opinion by the arrival of our waiter.  Using a well-manicured fingernail to indicate his choices, Frank ordered for us both.
“The lady will have your Grand Cru Mambourg.  I’ll start with a Lagavullin 16, and proceed to the Chambolle-Musigny with my main course,” he said with conviction.
“Very good, sir.”  The waiter collected the enormous wine menu and decamped, having failed to even look me in the eye.  A little ember of resentment glowed in my belly.
“How did you know what wine to order when I haven’t told you what I’ve chosen as my main course?” I challenged once the waiter was out of earshot.
Frank looked perplexed, as though we were acting in a play and I’d suddenly said the wrong lines after countless perfect dress rehearsals.
“It’s your birthday, darling.  You always get lobster for your birthday.”
I thought about this.  He wasn’t wrong.   I liked lobster.  The first time we celebrated together in Boston, on my twenty-fifth birthday, it had felt like a sophisticated, grown-up choice.  But I never intended for it to become my only option.
The rest of the meal passed without event.  Frank was more animated than usual, reaching across the table to caress my hand twice and joking that his Angus steak tartare appetizer made him feel like a veritable red-blooded carnivore.
Once our plates were cleared Frank cleared his throat and squared his shoulders in a way that reminded me of the day he announced that we would be moving to Edinburgh.  Now what? I wondered.
“Claire.  Darling.  I think you know how happy you make me, and how delighted I am that we’re building this new life together back in the UK.  Your thirtieth birthday is such a special occasion, and I think it’s fitting that we mark it with something momentous.”
He reached across the table and took my left hand in his right.  His skin was cool and dry against my oddly numb palm.  I considered whether I might be going into cardiac arrest.  My heart felt untethered in my chest, leaping towards my throat and then plunging into my gut.  I concentrated on taking short, sipping breaths so that I didn’t regurgitate lobster all over the pristine white table linens.
Frank continued, unaware of my turmoil.  “I’d like us to be married within the year.  That way, our children will be born before you enter the high-risk years.  A late-spring wedding sounds lovely, don’t you think?”
He looked at me expectantly, so it must be my turn to speak.  The problem was I couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
“I’m sorry, are you asking me to marry you?” I managed to ask around my stomach, which had joined my heart in my throat.
Frank chuckled.  “Of course I am, darling.  Isn’t this what we always planned?”
Strictly speaking, it was what Frank had always planned.  He’d certainly never made any secret of the fact that matrimony and a family were what he saw in our future.  So why was I blind-sided?  It felt as though I had been driving a practical four-door sedan with an excellent crash test rating at highway speed, only to suddenly realize that nothing happened when I pumped the brakes.
I said the next thing that came into my malfunctioning brain.
“What about my licensing exams?”
“There really won’t be time, darling.  Planning a wedding is a full-time job in itself, from what I hear.   We need to get moving if we’re to have two children.  You aren’t getting any younger, you know.”
I nodded weakly as though this made some kind of sense.  Frank took the gesture as silent acceptance of his hyper-practical proposal, clapping his hands together in delight in a way that made me jump.
“Marvelous.  Now, I know that you’re very particular about jewelry, so I thought it best that we shop for a ring together.  But I wouldn’t dream of celebrating your special day without giving you something tangible.  Happy birthday, Claire.”
He pulled an envelope from his inside jacket pocket and slid it across the table.  My fingers trembled and twitched as I tried to open the seal.  Inside was a certificate printed with a familiar logo.   I looked at Frank in shock.  How did he know?
“I know how much you want to learn to cook.  This place has an excellent reputation, despite their ridiculous name.  They offer group lessons, but only at their location in Leith.  I suppose the rent is cheaper there, but clearly that was out of the question.  Fortunately, I was able to arrange something more suitable with the owner, so you’ll be learning at home from a private chef!”
At that moment our waiter reappeared carrying a bowl of dark, rich-looking pudding.  As he placed it on the table in front of me, the spicy vapours of whisky assaulted my nose.  With a flourish, the waiter extracted a long-handled lighter and ignited the liquor.  Through the ensuing burst of purple flame, Frank’s familiar features transformed into something far more sinister.
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And Then There Were Three
Part I
Summary: Jamie wants to help Serena unwind.
(spoiler alert: it’s smut)
Posted by popular demand of @wine-drunk-on-elizabeth 😉
you showed me yours, so I’ll show you mine
“Alright J.C. I know you didn’t come all of this way for girl talk. What’s up?”
Jamie took a nervous sip of her coffee, unsure of how her best friend would react to what she was about to propose. “What? I can’t just come say hi?”
Blake arched her brow incredulously, green eyes sparkling in the low light of the café. “You drove an hour to say ‘hi’?”
Jamie shrugged, finishing off her coffee. “People have done crazier things.” ‘Like what I’m about to suggest, for example.’
“How’s Serena doing?” Blake asked with a small smile and Jamie chuckled and shook her head. Blake had always been the more intuitive one of all of her friends and could read her like a book.
“Ser is great, she’s- she’s actually what I came up here to talk to you about,” Jamie replied, her leg shaking slightly as she spoke.
“Talk away, you know she’s my favorite subject,” Blake said with a flirty grin, her easy manner helping Jamie relax.
“Don’t I know it,” Jamie laughed, thinking that maybe this was her opening. “We were talking about you the other day, you know. Serena was really happy you could make it out to the party.”
“It was my pleasure, especially since I got to watch her work the room all evening,” Blake said with a wink. “I don’t know how you did it J.C. but you’re one lucky SOB.”
Jamie smiled, because it was true, she was insanely lucky. But before she could get lost in thoughts of her wife and what she could be up to, she turned back to Blake. “I think we should do it again.”
“What? Dinner?” Blake asked, brow furrowing slightly, confusion etched across her features.
Jamie nodded. “Just the three of us.” She paused, studying Blake’s expression as she spoke. “You know, Ser has been really stressed lately, and I was thinking that since she enjoyed your company so much the other night, you could come over again, we could have dinner and…”
“J.C., this feels oddly like you’re asking me out,” Blake said with a laugh. “We tried that… it didn’t work, remember?”
“We didn’t ‘try’ anything,” Jamie argued, laughing right along with her friend. “We drank too much, ended up in bed together a couple times and then never talked about it again.”
“I’m wounded Jamie, I can’t believe that’s all I am to you.”
Jamie laughed again, the final bit of her nervousness melting away. This was Blake. She would either say “hell yes” or “fuck off” and they would deal with it afterwards. “So? Dinner? You going to accept my invitation or what?” she asked.
“Of course, it’s your cooking and a night with Serena,” Blake replied with a grin. “I’d never say no to that.”
“What if I told you… it was a little more than that?” Jamie asked, tapping into some confidence she didn’t even know she had and allowing a little smirk to curl her lips when Blake’s eyebrows flew up towards her hairline.
“Jamie Castillo. Are you propositioning me?”
Jamie laughed. “Not a proposition. An invitation to… help Serena unwind a little. She’s been stressed out and I think she’ll really enjoy… your company.”
“And you’re going to be ok with this?” Blake asked, leaning forward on her elbows. “The other night Serena kissed my cheek and I swear I saw you go green at the temples.”
Jamie shrugged, grinning when she thought back to what happened directly after that infamous kiss on the cheek. “Yes, well, apparently you bring something out in me that Serena seems to enjoy.”
“Get it J.C.,” Blake teased, pausing for a moment as she studied Jamie’s face. “You’re being completely serious right now aren’t you. You really are suggesting a threesome, right here, in front of the cappuccinos.”
“Yeah, I am, and you’ve yet to give me your answer,” Jamie said. “I’m kinda hurt Blake, I thought you’d be jumping for joy at this point. Or at least asking for safe words and hard limits.”
Blake’s grin turned suggestive. “You think she’ll be able to handle both of us?”
Jamie chuckled. “She’d be offended if she knew you doubted her.” Leaning back in her chair, she met Blake’s gaze, noting the heat that had collected in her eyes. “So? How’s next Friday sound?”
Blake grinned, raising her coffee cup and toasting Jamie playfully with it. “It sounds... like I have a date with Serena Benson.”
TBC
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beauvibaby · 4 years
Text
4 Times He Thought You Were Beautiful + 1 Time He Told You How He Felt
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1.
You and Tyler were close, great friends, that’s what you told people, when they asked, and you always brushed off how they would look at you like you sprouted another head. “Y/N?” Tyler spoke, startling you as you focused on the movie, your head snapped towards him, along with Gerry’s who had his resting on your lap. “What?” You asked, blushing when your voice cracked. You had totally gotten sucked into the universe of the movie you were watching and hadn't even realized you started crying along with the main characters. "You alright?" He asked, softly nudging you with his shoulder. You nodded enthusiastically, "it was sad." You pouted, not noticing how his eyes lingered on your lips a little longer than a friends should. "Yeah, I guess." He teased, smiling down at the mop of your hair that was tied up, and now as you leaned into his side it hit him in the face. Tyler dramatically pushed it away, laughing when you whined at the action. "Ouch!" You gasped as he went to move his hand back but his finger was stuck in a small knot. "Oh shit, sorry!" He laughed, quickly figuring out how to get his finger out. He watched as you broke into a fit of giggles, trying to figure out how to fix your hair without it looking too messy. He wished he could tell you that no matter what you did you'd be the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen.
2.
"Y/N, would you stop, you look great." Tyler sighed as you kept adjusting the fabric hanging off your body, "you have to say that, you're the one forcing me to go to this stupid event!" You groaned, turnign to see him watching you. "I don't have to, friends don't lie, remember?" He pointed out, rolling his eyes when you adjusted his tie. "If you don't hurry, we're going to be late!" Jamie shouted down the hall, you jumped away from Tyler as if you were doing something wrong. You hid your blush with you lightly curled hair, scurrying out the door, "you look nice." Jamie complimented as you passed him in the doorway. "Not too bad yourself, Benn." You retorted, smiling as you approached Katie who was doing just like you had been, constantly smoothing out her dress.
"Man, when are you going to tell her?" Jamie quizzed his friend as they slowly walked down the hall towards the two talking ladies. "Soon." Tyler mumbled, "you've been saying that for months." Jamie responded, rolling his eyes, "listen, all I'm saying is if I was in your position with Katie, I'd be damned to let her go out like that and not tell her I was in love with her." "I'm not in love!" "Whatever you say."
3.
The knock on the door made you shoot up, practically running over there as you recognized it as Tyler's knock, you knew he'd ring the doorbell in a second and you didn't want to risk it waking up your finally sleeping 8 week old niece. You were babysitting, and not expecting company, it was only Tyler, he's seen you in worse than this oversized t-shirt and sleeping shorts. But still you hesitated, pushing your minor insecurities aside. "Don't you fucking touch that doorbell." You whisper shouted as you swung the door open, Tyler's hand froze, barely an inch away from the bell. "Uh, hello to you too." He mumbled, he took in your appearance, and his eyes landed a little low on your chest, surprising you. "You got a little something?" He pointed and you looked down turning bright pink as you noticed the spit up on your shirt. "I'm watching Laila tonight, remember, the wedding?" You whispered, stepping aside to let him in. He nodded, mouthing an "ohhh", "I finally get to meet her!" He cheered quietly, you laughed under your breath as he followed you aimlessly into the kitchen, you grabbed a paper towel, wetting it slightly and rubbing at the spit up, Tyler laughed watching you struggle to get it off. "You can go change, she'll be fine, if not I can handle her for a couple of minutes." He assured you, softly padding his way along to the living room where Laila slept soundly on the couch, her soft minky blanket draped over her little body, her arms up over her head. You stopped on your way to your bedroom, watching in awe as he looked down at the baby. She started to whine and your instincts came over you as you rushed over, picking her up before Tyler had time to react. “You didn't even change!” He groaned, arms crossed over his chest, “I can hold her, go.” He demanded, holding his arms out for the small girl. She stopped fussing the second you picked her up, you trusted him of course, but still looked at him with wide worried eyes when you handed her over. He eased your nerves, cradling her with both arms even though he really only needed one. “Go.” Tyler spoke again, sitting on the couch, the baby safely nestled in his chest. You took a mental picture before rushing off to your room to change into a clean shirt. 
“Your aunt is something else, isn't she?” Tyler whispered to the small girl, she simply stared up at him, “she really is, you’re gonna love her so much.” He spoke again, glancing over when he heard you coming down the hall. “Our secret.” He winked at the baby, who only gurgled in response. He couldn’t help but think you looked stunning even as you walked back in, basically the same outfit just a clean shirt, your hair a mess, no makeup, and your cheeks just the littlest bit flushed. 
4. 
Tyler would probably never tell you how he accidentally saw you in your bra and panties, he was impatiently waiting for you to finish getting ready to go out, you had just had another failed date. His treat was always taking you out, whatever you wanted, it was like a tradition, he always wished he’d just tell you how he felt, and then these could be your actual dates. But he wouldn't do it, especially not tonight as he froze in the hardly cracked door, hearing you sniffle, he felt like someone stabbed him straight in the heart, he closed one eye, being able to spot you through the door, you stood in front of your mirror. He watched you turn to the side, sucking your stomach in a little, running your hand over your side. He felt wrong watching you, but he couldn't bring himself to look away, and not because of how little you were wearing, but because he was hoping, praying, that you’d see something positive in yourself. He held his breath as you turned the other way, now facing the door, but you were too absorbed in nit picking your body to notice him. You stood on your tippy toes, adjusting your underwear as if it would make your butt just a little rounder, your hands toying with the straps of your bra, wishing everything sat a little tighter, but it didn't. Thats what you always told yourself, normally you were confident, Tyler had never seen you so unsure of yourself. In his defense he had met you when you were dancing drunkenly on a table in a bar, so you were full of confidence then, and it really set the tone for your friendship. Tyler wanted so badly to bust in there, and tell you how beautiful you were, to him, to anyone with eyes. He couldn't, he didn't, he slowly backed away, making his way to the living room, trying to push his sadness away. 
+ 1.
You were rushing down the halls, the sound of your heeled ankle boots sounding like you were slamming them. The words kept playing through your ears, “Number 91 Tyler Seguin, will not be returning to play tonight.” You knew your way around the arena like the back of your hand. The second you heard the words, Katie pushed you to your feet, Jamie meeting your eyes through the glass as you hauled ass, you knew it was a nasty check, head first into the boards, he didn't hop right up and you knew, something really had to be wrong. The security guard knew you so he didn't hesitate to step aside as you went rushing in, “Tyler?” You called softly, not wanting to startle him, he hummed in response, laid on the PT table, an arm over his eyes. “What’s the news?” You whispered, approaching him, lightly running your hand over his arm, he moved to uncover his eyes, blinking to adjust to the lights. “Concussion.” He sighed, you leaned over him slightly, tucking your loose hair behind your ears. “You scared me, Ty.” You admitted, biting the corner of your lip, looking away for a second as he looked up at you with a slightly dazed look. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled, sitting up, you moved out of the way, grabbing his arm to steady him when he swayed a little. “Nice jersey, who got it for you?” He quipped, lightening the mood slowly. He toyed with the loose fabric hanging over your wrists. “Great guy, I think you’d like him.” You teased in return, he gave you a lopsided smile. “Y/N?” He grabbed your hands, and you looked down at them before up at him, “I need to tell you something, before the game is over and the boys ruin our moment.” He got your attention with his words, you frowned when you saw the hesitation in his eyes. You cupped his face for a moment, his hands went to your waist out of instinct. “Tyler, you can tell me anything, I promise.” You assured him, not being able to resist running your thumbs across his cheeks. 
He closed his eyes for a moment, “I love you, Y/N.” He whispered, you were happy his eyes were closed as you let a wide grin cover your face. He peaked one eye open to see your reaction, you didn't even have to ask for clarification. You knew what he meant. “I love you too, Tyler.” You laughed softly, easing his nerves. “Can I finally kiss you now?” He smirked, already knowing the answer. He pulled you in by the waist, the fabric of your Seguin jersey getting bunched together. Finally, you thought, finally you were kissing him, it was soft and slow, nothing was rushed it was a simple yet passionate kiss. That of course was interrupted by the boys whistling, “fuck off.” Tyler grumbled, hiding his face in your neck, you laughed softly, kissing the side of his head, you could get used to this. “You’re gorgeous, I’m so lucky.” He whispered, only you being able to hear it as the boys started talking all at once. “Tyler.” You sighed in return, your heart skipping a beat at his words. He shook his head, gripping you a little tighter, wishing he didn't have a concussion, and wishing the guys weren't in here. “I promise, you’re never going to feel like you’re not good enough again.” He leaned back, pressing a quick kiss to your cheeks before the guys could chirp him. Now you hid in his neck, careful not to bump his head with yours. “I know you saw me, a couple weeks ago, I heard you walking away from the door.” You whispered to him, he tensed slightly, “I’m sorry.” He admitted, you chastely kissed the skin of his neck. “It’s alright.” You assured him, “you just had to get a damn concussion tonight.” You added teasingly, “believe me, I’m angrier about it than you are.” He sighed, “you’ll just have to make it up to me, Seguin. The second you get cleared.” You smirked, getting a confidence boost when he gripped you a little tighter. “You can count on that, baby.”
taglist: @literarycharleton​ @thathockeygirl​
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Text
Here it is friends. Part one of my Taylor-Swift-nostalgia induced carraville fic. I will be writing a short part two but I figured I’d get this up now and it could be read on its own at this point. I haven’t proof read it so please excuse any mistakes but I hope you enjoy!
Jamie undid his tie. It was a plaid tie, blue instead of red to suggest his neutrality. It was a good day or at least it should’ve been. Liverpool beat Everton two to one, he’d had a good show (no one was harassing him on Twitter yet and Gary had made a few mistakes, Jamie thought that qualified a pretty good show), and he had a date at eleven. He should be fucking buzzing but Jamie just feels the idle hum of numbness. Even the five-goal thriller that was their first game of the night hadn’t got his heart pumping like it used to. 
Gary walked in silently, startling Jamie who quickly pulled on a jumper. Not that his state of dress mattered, Gary’s eyes stayed glued to the floor. He walked to the far corner of the dressing room to change out of his suit, as far away from Jamie as possible.  He hadn’t said a word to Jamie all night when the cameras weren’t rolling. It hurt. Especially when Gary was so good at acting like everything was fine when the commercial break ended. He even fooled Jamie a few times.
Kelly knocked on the door, making sure they were both decent, before walking in to say goodnight. Jamie watched as Gary smiled at Kelly, as he laughed with her about something. Jamie used to do that: make Gary laugh. Kelly turns her attentions to Jamie. She compliments him on his interview tonight and asks him where he and Tom are going for their date. 
“It’s quite late,” she comments, “you can’t really be going to dinner.” Jamie give her a fake laugh. 
“I’ve got a reservation and everything Kells. We’re going to that new vegan place. He’s picking me up.” You heard that right: vegan. Because on top of everything, Tom fucking cared about animals and the environment. Jamie wasn’t complaining too much, though. He could suffer through some tofu if it meant not having to go to Gary and his old haunts. 
“Ooh!” Kelly said, “do I get to meet him? Redknapp keeps talking about how lovely he is, I figure I could judge for myself.” Ah, yes, Redders. Running into Redders had been an accident. They managed to bump into him at the golf course the week before. Tom was good at golf, unlike Redders, as much as he tried to be. Tom gave him a few pointers, helping Redders fix his posture for his swings. They ended up playing a whole round together while Jamie played ping-pong with an eight-year-old girl in the clubhouse. Redders hadn’t shut up about how Tom’s wonderfulness and his perfect swing since. Jamie nodded at Kelly. He figured he couldn’t do any more damage. 
The three of them stood in the parking lot waiting for Tom’s car to pull in. He wasn’t late of course, he never is, they just got out earlier than anticipated. Gary had tried to skitter off to his car but Kelly practically dragged him back up on the curb. Gary, despite trying to put on an agreeable face, looked about as miserable as Jamie felt. Jamie thought he was slightly better at hiding it though. 
At 10:59 Tom’s blue Volkswagen pulled in. One minute early. He wore a nice checked shirt with the first few buttons undone. His hair and shirt were miraculously crisp and clean after a full day of work. He looked like a fucking god with his symmetrical face, sharp bone structure, and straight nose. Kelly certainly took note of that. “Our Carra is a lucky man!” She whispered before going over to Tom to introduce herself. Tom shook her hand and complimented her dress which, to be fair, was a very nice floral pattern. 
Tom stuck his hand out for Gary to shake. “Hello Gary, my name’s Tom. It’s nice to meet you.” Gary takes a minute to collect himself and takes Tom’s outstretched hand giving it a firm shake. 
“It’s nice to meet you as well.” It sounds remarkably fake, of course it does, but Tom doesn’t seem to notice. He just turns towards Jamie with a perfect smile. 
“You have such lovely friends, Jamie. It was nice to meet you both.” Jamie wasn’t so sure about that but played along and let Tom walk him to the car. Tom opened Jamie’s door for him before walking around to get in himself. He saw Kelly sling an arm around Gary’s shoulders as they drove away. Jamie took a deep breath and remembered it was all for the best. He reminded himself that this was what he wanted: stability. He didn’t want to fight anymore. The words Gary had said that night still rung in his ears. He was sure his own snarls were not forgotten either. 
It started to rain as they parked but Tom had an umbrella. Gary never had an umbrella. You’d think that living in Manchester he’d learn to at least keep one in his car. Instead, he resorted to sprinting away from the rain as fast as he could trying to avoid the rain, he wasn’t as fast as he used to be. But Tom was prepared, he always was. He held the umbrella for the both of them as they walked around to the front of the restaurant. 
“James, try the torte it’s quite delicious.” Jamie hated being called James. Absolutely hated it. Not when Gary said it though. His stupid manc accent stretched the vowels into velvet. When Gary said it he felt special. Tom’s polished London accent made him feel posh, pretentious, and twatty. James. Ugh. It was like the word torte. It’s a fucking cake, just call it what it is. Jamie took a bite of the torte. It was good if you ignored the aftertaste of soya in the frosting, a little dry, but Jamie nodded his head like it was an orange mcflurry. He let Tom finish the dessert. 
They’re in the car. Tom’s dropping Jamie off at his apartment. Tom must have noticed that Jamie had been quiet and switched the topic to something a little more in his wheelhouse: football. They were talking about England and possible squads for the upcoming international break. Tom started talking about moving Kyle Walker into midfield and Jamie couldn’t take it. 
“That’s bollocks. Where is the one place on the field where we actually have players? Fucking midfield. Gareth’s drowning in defenders but not experienced ones. Playing Walker in midfield fucking undermines Henderson and leaves the young centrebacks overexposed.” Tom laughs for some reason. Jamie doesn’t find it funny.
“Well, you would certainly know.” This is what you want, he reminds himself again. Peace, calm, stability. This is happiness. But, fuck, Jamie missed Gary. He missed the challenge. He missed the little crease between Gary’s eyes. He missed Gary’s squeaky voice when he gets worked up. He missed fighting and bickering with Gary over things that didn’t matter. He missed screaming at Gary and Gary screaming back. He missed the really hot sex they’d have after such screaming matches, making Gary scream in a different, more satisfying way. He missed Gary’s laugh, his smile. It seemed to Jamie that neither of them have smiled much since that day. Jamie thought that smiling didn’t seem worth it if Gary wasn’t smiling back. 
Jamie checked his phone. It was nearing 1 am. He had a handful of messages from Kelly. Jamie didn’t want to read about how great she thought Tom was, he fucking knew that Tom was great. On paper, he was fucking perfect. The perfect boyfriend. The dream guy. Not for Jamie though. He dreamed of an angry, passionate, crazy, wonderful manc. He opened his messages anyways though, figuring Tom would want to hear what Kelly thought about him. 
Jamie. I know you’re on your date but we need to talk. Can you call me? It’s about Gaz. The first one read.
He’s at mine. Really upset. He said not to talk to you so I figure you know what’s going on. That sounded about right. Kelly caring more about Gary’s well being than Gary himself. Gary was too stubborn to care. 
Call me please. The last one read. Fuck. They’d made a mess of things. Not only had they made a mess of themselves, but they’d also dragged the others into it. 
“Can you pull into that park up there?” Jamie asked Tom. He nodded and turned down the radio, waiting for Jamie to say something more. He didn’t though. Not until he got out of the car and puked some partially digested salad in the grass. Tom came over to him and rested his palm on Jamie’s mid back. Gary used to pet his hair, carding his fingers through it, on those mornings after he’d had a little too much to drink. 
Jamie laid on his back in the middle of the parking lot. The rain soaked through his thin shirt in seconds. Tom looked down at him concerned. “I can’t do this, Tom. You’re so lovely. I mean you’re so fucking lovely but I just can’t—”
“I get it, James. You’re still in love with him.” The bastard still looked perfect even drenched with rain. Jamie guessed that he probably looked like a drowned rat. Jamie must have been giving him a confused look because he laughed and explained further. “I saw the way you used to look at him on the tele like he’s the fucking sun. I saw the way you looked at him tonight like being around him was tearing you apart. Besides, I’m pretty sure half the nation knew there was something going on there.” Jamie laughed at that. They had been pretty obvious. And not just Gary, apparently. Apparently, he was just as open of a book. He needed to call Kelly. 
She picked up after three rings. “Hi Carra,” she whispered, “needed to get out of the living room, Gaz’s sleeping on my couch.”
“Is he okay?” Jamie asked, not really wanting to hear the answer. 
“He’s a wreck, Jamie. He misses you.” I miss him too, Jamie didn’t say, so much. 
“Can I come round?” Jamie asked. Kelly said yes so long as Jamie can get Gary the hell out of her living room and gave Carra her address. 
Thankfully, Kelly’s place was nearby, about a mile away. Jamie didn’t know where he got the energy considering he was dead on his feet a few minutes before, but he ran there as fast as he possibly could. His water-filled shoes squished loudly with every step. He got there in seven minutes and was panting heavily when he knocked on the door. Kelly let him in wordlessly. 
Gary was still sleeping on the couch when he walked into the living room. Kelly gave him a nod and walked into the kitchen. Jamie kneeled next to Gary and cupped his cheek with his palm. Jamie hadn’t realized how much he’d missed that simple feeling. Gary’s forehead was still crinkled in his sleep. His eyes were dark like he hadn’t slept much. Jamie hadn’t either. It was hard to sleep alone, without Gary’s comforting weight on his chest. Jamie took Gary’s hand from where it was tucked under his chin and intertwined their fingers. The weight of Gary’s hand in his set relief running through Jamie’s body. Gary started to stir at that. 
“James?” Jamie smiles at that. His stupid name sounds beautiful coming from Gary’s mouth. His eyes weren’t even open yet and Gary already knows it’s him. “What are you doing here?” He opened his eyes slightly but upon seeing Jamie they were wide open. Gary’s eyes were red and bloodshot. Jamie just wanted to yank him into his arms and hug him forever. 
“What are you doing here, you muppet? Bothering Kelly at 2 am?” Jamie said playfully. Gary flushed slightly. “Come on, Gaz. Let’s get you home.” He grabbed Gary’s hand to pull him up. Gary stumbled when he tried to take a step. Carra looked down at the empty beer bottles and figured that was why. He grabbed Gary’s arm and slung it over his shoulder. Gary’s head rested in the crook of Jamie’s neck, his soft breathing tickling at the skin there. 
“Kelly,” Jamie called softly into the kitchen, “we’re leaving.” She came out to stand in the doorway in her fluffy, pink bunny slippers that Jamie had somehow not noticed before. Jamie thought he should get Gary a pair. 
“Set an alarm,” she said, “he wakes up early. Don’t let him bolt.” Jamie figured Gary wouldn’t be racing out of his apartment at 5 am with the hangover he was sure to have but it was still a good idea. Gary was an unpredictable, stubborn bastard at times. Jamie thanked her and helped Gary down to his car. 
It was still pouring when they got out of the building because clearly the gods wanted Gary to either sober up or catch his death. Thankfully, in his upset Gary had forgotten to lock the car meaning Carra didn’t have to fumble around for his keys in the current weather. Except, that Gary wouldn’t get into the car. He sprawled his limbs over the door so Jamie couldn’t push him inside. 
“Gary, if you don’t get your arse in that car, I’m going to leave you out here to drown.” Obviously, he wasn’t serious but he figured that Gary might be drunk enough not to know that. Gary just smiled up fondly at him and stayed put. 
“I love you,” he said, looking like the most radiant, beautiful thing Jamie had ever seen in his life. His hair was a mess, stuck down to his forehead. His cheeks were bright red from a mix of alcohol and the cold. His eyes were still red but god they held all the love in the world. Jamie could see that somehow, after everything, Gary still loved him, truly loved him. After all the things he said, screamed, did, this man--this beautiful man--still loved Jamie every ounce as much as Jamie loved him. It didn’t matter what he should want, he wanted Gary and all of his adorable, infuriating flaws. His recipe to happiness was just that: his own. He didn’t need stability, calm, peace. He needed to feel something. 
Jamie cupped his face for the second time that night. He ran his thumb over Gary’s wet, stubbly cheeks. Jamie couldn’t help himself. He kissed Gary with all of the kisses they’d missed in the past two months. The two months of pain, loneliness, desolation. He kissed Gary with all of the love he had in his cold, wet body and Gary did the same. Gary moved slower than Jamie, less frantically but no less enthusiastically. Gary clutched at his jacket like a vice, unwilling to let go. Jamie moved his hands around Gary’s body. He wanted to make sure that everything was still as he remembered it. And it was. Of course, it was. He had Gary in his arms, it didn’t matter that the rain had picked up. Though, he was sure he’d hear about the soggy interior of Gary’s car in the morning. He pulled away reluctantly for breath and rested his forehead against Gary’s.
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andawaywego · 4 years
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Your fics are my favorite! Could you write one where some guy hitting on Dani too aggressively and won’t leave so Jamie has to step in? Maybe punches him, Dani takes care of her hand after and has a lot of feelings
okay! so i also got a more recent prompt for someone asking for Jamie to defend Dani, so this is for both of you guys. i hope you like it!
(check it out in my prompt collection for a bonus ending written by my hilarious bud, Julia)
..
Growing up, the storybooks always made Dani think that heroes come in suits of armor. Broad-shouldered, tall, handsome strangers who wait for you at the bottom of the tower asking you to let down your hair, give them your heart, just let them save you and they’ll love you forever, promise. And there was something about that she never wanted—she’s never seen herself in that throne room or glass coffin or anywhere else where a princess might need saving.
Because, no. She doesn’t need any saving that she can’t provide for herself. And she knows that. Really, she does.
But then again, she’s never had anyone knock a guy on his ass for her. At least, not until—
_____________________
Rewind.
The last night of Owen’s visit, they go to a bar in Burlington for drinks. It’s not a place they frequent, no, but it’s nearby and always seems busy. Certainly that can’t mean it’s unliked.
And it is nice enough. Clean booths, even if the benches are cracked vinyl, nice enough waitresses, good lighting and, importantly, not too loud. It’s a Friday, so it is fairly packed and it’s late, too, what with them having decided to come last minute after letting Owen cook them one more meal (“You’ll have plenty of leftovers,” he’d said, “so you won’t have to do take-out for a bit”; always trying to take care of them, even when he lives on the other side of the ocean).
He and Jamie are trying to outdrink one another, though neither of them had said this aloud. Dani sits beside her girlfriend, arm around her waist, and watches them fondly as some of Jamie’s beer dribbles down her chin. Somehow, she manages to finish before Owen does, and then she’s slamming her glass back down on the table in front of her, liquid spilling into her lap and Dani laughs.
“Oh my god,” she says, reaching across the table for the napkin holder. “You’re a mess.” She grabs a handful of them and turns Jamie’s head her way, mopping her face up while Jamie smiles and laughs at her own ridiculousness.
Owen stops drinking with just a splash left and sets his own mug down, shaking his head as he makes himself swallow. “I refuse to look like that,” he says, gesturing to her beer-stained flannel. “You win.”
“You refuse to look like what? A winner?” Jamie counters, a triumphant gleam in her eye that makes Dani sort of feel like swooning, even though that’s silly.
“A wet winner,” Dani amends and Jamie must be buzzed because her smirk only gets wider and she wiggles her eyebrows at Dani. “Stop.” Dani pretends to push her away as Jamie darts in quickly to plant a kiss on her cheek. 
“God, stop being so bloody happy,” Owen complains, not an ounce of animosity in his voice or his expression. “You’re making me ill.”
“That’s probably because of the beer you just guzzled down,” Dani tells him and Jamie cackles.
“She’s got your number,” she says. She lifts her hand up then, burping into her fist and then apologizing and Dani rolls her eyes.
Sometimes, it’s a wonder that this is the same woman who could make her weak-kneed with just a look. More than anyone Dani has ever known in her life, Jamie contains multitudes.
“I’m gonna get you two some water,” Dani says, getting up. 
Jamie throws her a happy grin and Owen gives a sincere, “Thank you,” that Dani waves off. She’s only a foot away from the two of them resume their childish bickering. 
Slowly, Dani weaves her way through the other patrons and makes her way to the bar, keeping to herself as much as possible. It isn’t as if she’s been in many, but it seems strange, almost, how the atmosphere of the place can change with the types of people who choose to inhabit it. When they first arrived, the place seemed warm and friendly—lots of clean lines and light greys. A modern-looking chandelier strung above the main tables past the bar. An exposed brick wall beside the booths. Without too many people in it, the space had seemed almost bonhomous. Welcoming.
Now, as the evening grows later and people are getting more and more into their cups, it’s begun to lose some of what made it convivial. 
So she tightens up her posture, holds her shoulders and head higher, and finds an empty space beside the bar to wait while the bartender assists someone else. There’s a song playing from the jukebox in the corner, but she can’t make out any of the words or even tell what key the melody is in. All she can hear is the distant, seemingly random scatter of an asynchronous beat.
“What have I done to deserve this?”
It takes Dani a moment to realize that, despite the phrasing, the question is being asked in relation to her presence. There’s a man sitting on a stool beside where she’s standing and he’s looking at her with dark eyes that make her feel even more on display. He’s smartly dressed, like he’d come to the bar directly from his office, and his tie is loosened around his neck, the top buttons undone in a blatant show of after-hours leisure. 
There’s something to the way he’s looking at her—the parting of his chapped lips—that makes her feel trapped. Makes her heart speed up in her chest.
“Excuse me?” she asks. Wanting to ignore him. Knowing in her heart of hearts that he will likely only persist even if she does.
“What brings a girl like you to a place like this?” he asks, eyes dancing with slight intoxication. Leering at her. 
Dani taps her fingers against the bartop, a quiet prayer of, “Come on, come one, come on,” escaping her lips as she stares down the busy bartender. Wanting a rescue. Wanting a way out.
“Did you hear me?” the man asks, and there’s a quality to his voice now that makes her feel even more on edge than before. 
Dani decides that the best course of action is to simply play dumb. “Sorry?” she asks, turning his way again with a stiff smile. 
He smirks. “I asked what a girl like you is doing in a place like this.”
“Um…” She clears her throat. “Waiting for the bartender.”
“Why don’t you sit down and stay a while.” He gestures at the empty stool beside him. “Let me buy you the next one.”
Dani presses her lips together. Takes a deep breath. “Thank you, but I’m uh...here with people.”
His expression darkens even further somehow. “Boyfriend?” he asks.
Her immediate reaction is to deny it because no. There is no boyfriend. Just her beautiful, silly, and very, very far away girlfriend. But then she thinks of Owen, also with them. Not necessarily intimidating, no, but another man at least. 
She grits her teeth. “Yes, actually. Right over there.” She points to the booth where Owen and Jamie are still talking amongst themselves. The man follows her gaze and stares them down. As he does, Jamie perks up, frowning at the sight of him and catching Dani’s eyes.
If there were a way to send for an SOS, Dani would have done it already. Instead, she has to settle for hoping that, after three years together, Jamie might be able to simply read her mind.
“Him?” the man asks. He turns back around and fixes Dani with a hard look that makes her skin crawl. 
“Yes,” Dani says. “Him.”
“He looks a little busy with your friend, wouldn’t you say?” He leans a little closer, and Dani jumps when she feels his hand touch her waist, trying to pull her in. “Come on, baby. One drink.”
“No, thank you.” Dani pulls away from him, anger flushing up her neck and chest. “And don’t call me that.”
He grips her arm next, a little too tightly, and Dani’s certain her heart is going to pound directly out of her chest. “What?” he asks, showing his teeth in a way that is so, so different than a smile. “Baby?”
Dani wrenches herself out of his grasp and pulls away. “Yes,” she says, a note of slight hysteria tinting the word. “Now—”
“Somethin’ the matter, Poppins?” 
It’s as if her lungs can finally expand when Dani hears Jamie’s voice, feels her warm, gentle hand on her waist. Immediately, she leans into the touch and turns to meet the worried, heated gaze of her girlfriend. She opens her mouth to say something, to ask for Jamie to please, please get her out of here, but she’s cut off by an irritated, “Oh,” coming from the man on the stool.
When she turns, he’s looking between them knowingly, eyes tracing the way Dani has turned herself into Jamie’s touch. 
“I didn’t realize you were one of them,” he spits.
Something hot and panicked shoots through Dani’s chest at his words, like lightning, like a bullet. She feels rather than sees Jamie stiffen beside her, pull herself up to make herself seem taller.
“What’s that?” Jamie asks, teeth bared and feral, already pushing herself in front of Dani to stand between him and the man.
He scoffs, and rolls his eyes. “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have wasted my time on a d—” 
Thankfully, he doesn’t even have time to finish the thought. Instead, there’s a sickening, fleshy thump as Jamie’s fist collides with his cheekbone. 
Hard.
Caught off guard, the man falls off his stool and lands on the floor with an even louder noise. As he does, his arms flail out and knock his glass off the table, and it lands beside him, crashing as it breaks apart upon impact. 
Immediately, the entire bar goes quiet as everyone turns to stare at what’s just happened. Owen is standing by the booth, mouth agape and wide-eyed as he looks between a seething Jamie, fist still cocked, and the man on the floor clutching his face.
Dani is clutching Jamie’s other arm, pulling at her and trying to let her mind catch up with the quickly-unfolding events that have just taken place. 
“You bitch!” the man yells. He turns to look at the shell-shocked audience around him. “She hit me! You crazy bitch!”
“You’re lucky that’s all I did you fucking dickhead!” Jamie shouts back. “When a girl tells ya’ no thank you, keep your greasy fucking hands off her or I’ll—”
“Jamie,” Dani says softly, tugging at Jamie’s sleeve. “Come on. Let’s just—”
Jamie is wild-eyed when she turns to look at her, as unhinged as Dani’s ever seen her and she looks so angry and beautiful that it’s a wonder Dani keeps standing at all. “He fucking—” she begins, but Dani shakes her head.
“I know, I know.” She throws a look at Owen who is already making his way towards them. “We need to leave, okay? Please.”
It’s the final word, perhaps, that finally brings Jamie back into herself. Her expression softens and she lowers her fist, nodding and letting herself be pulled toward the exit before anyone wises up enough to call the police. As they go, whispered conversations start trickling through the crowd again, muffled shock cupped behind hands as the man begins to pull himself to his feet, deflated and looking very much like a child.
The front door squeaks loudly as they step out into the bitter, November air. It’s shockingly sobering, despite the fact that Dani hasn’t had a drop to drink all night. Her cheeks are flushed with the emotion of the last few minutes and she realizes that she’s trembling, even as she’s gripping Jamie’s wrist.
Fortunately, it seems to have the same effect on Jamie, who’s begun to calm herself down and breathe normally again. The normal sounds of the evening feel otherworldly now—the rush of cars and voices and regular life crashing down on each of them.
The door squeaks again and then Owen is there, coming towards them with a still-surprised gleam in his eye. But there’s something else there, too. Something that Dani thinks might be pride.
“What happened?” he asks, looking between them both.
“Bloody wanker grabbed Dani,” Jamie mutters and she’s inspecting her punching-fist now, eyebrows furrowed.
Owen’s eyebrows raise in even more surprise. “You okay, Dani?” he asks, turning his worry her way.
Dani nods. “I’m fine, I just—”
“Yep,” Jamie says. “It’s broken.”
“What?” Dani squeaks and Jamie looks up at her with a wry smile, clutching her hand to her chest.
“My knuckle. It’s broken.”
“Oh my god,” Dani breathes.
“It’s okay.”
“You broke your hand. How is that—”
“I’m fine. It’s not like I—”
“Jesus, Jamie, why did you have to—”
“What was I supposed to do, Dani?” Jamie asks. “Let him touch you like that when you were trying to get away from him? You looked so scared and he was just...I just...I’m sorry.”
Dani blinks. Tries not to cry. “You big, dumb hero,” she says softly and Jamie looks hurt for a moment until she realizes that Dani is smiling. “You broke your hand defending my honor.”
For a moment, she forgets that Owen is there at all. It’s just her and Jamie and Jamie’s battle wound, wrapped up in a bubble of their own design. Jamie smiles a little, clearly in pain as her adrenaline drains away.
“So out of character for me,” Jamie breathes, laughing a little. “I’m sorry that I—”
Dani cuts her off again, but differently now. Leaning in, she cups Jamie’s face and kisses her, hard and heart and i can’t believe you did that. Jamie lifts her good hand, resting it on Dani’s shoulder as she kisses her back. It lingers for a moment, just long enough for Dani to feel like the earth has stopped spinning beneath her feet. 
When she pulls away, Jamie breathes shakily against her lips, resting their foreheads together as they each try to settle down.
Owen clears his throat, bringing them back into the moment. “If you two are done, I really think we should get her to the hospital.”
Reality washes over Dani like an icy ocean wave. “Oh my god, Jamie, your hand.”
The last evening of Owen’s visit, they end the night in the emergency room; Owen buys them food from the vending machine, Jamie makes too many jokes about being temporarily handicapped (“Handicapped,” she says, smiling at herself. “Get it?”) and Dani holds her good hand, remembering all of those heroes she never wanted to be rescued by.
Jamie’s nothing like them. She isn’t a knight or a prince or anything like that. She’s the hard-headed, unbelievable, wonderful love of Dani’s life. And that’s better than any hero she could have ever wished for.
..
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multifandomfic20 · 3 years
Text
Feelings
It was the start of 6th year the marauders were adjusting back into their routine they have during the school year and James and Sirius obviously make sure there are pranks involved, not that the other two actually mind.
Sirius made note that that that Remus had grown enormously not that he wasn’t already tall now he was just about 6’5 which made Sirius and his 5’4 body look tiny not that Sirius minded it was one of the many reasons he was in love with Remus not that anybody knew because first off Remus is straight and it’s lucky that he even accepts him because of his homophic parents second even if he was gay he would never love Sirius.
James Potter was many things he is a quidditch captain, he is a Gryffindor, he is a son, he is a marauder, a animagus but he is not naive he knows Sirius is in love with Remus but the reason he hasn’t said anything is because he knows Sirius doesn’t want anyone to know.
Remus was feeling different this year he knew obviously he grew a lot and then the full moons which sucked but there was this new feeling he couldn’t place. His parents during the summer had been awful there had been some LGBTD+ activism in the papers all summer and they wouldn’t shut up about about how sinful it was and saying slurs and saying how they should either go to church or go to jail, so it as a long summer but he couldn’t tell Sirius about this because Sirius always shuts down because Sirius thinks he will judge him the same way his parents do so he hasn't told anyone about his summer.
Peter’s family often went over to the Potter’s during summers for dinners. Peter and James’ mom’s have been best friends since Hogwarts so they spent a lot of time together during the summer. Because Peter had known James so long he could tell when something was off about James nobody seemed to remember how good Peter is at reading James but Peter didn’t say anything all summer.
One particular morning the four boys are in their room, Remus is getting his stuff so he can take a shower, Sirius looks like he is zoned out. (Really he’s thinking about how he needs to get over Remus because Remus will never love him) Sirius gets up off his bed and leaves their room.
The other three boys are confused why Sirius left, “that was weird” Remus says James nods “yeah I don’t know what’s gotten into him but he’s been acting weird” James tells Remus “huh that’s weird” Remus says as he walks into the bathroom.
James goes to grab something in his trunk when Peter grabs his arm “why have you been acting weird?” Peter asks “what are you talking about?” James asks pretending he doesn’t know what Peter means and he knows Peter can tell when he lies.
“What am I talking about? I’m talking about the fact that you have been acting off all summer and you are still acting off so don’t even say it’s cause you missed Hogwarts and I let it slide and I didn’t say anything but you are going to tell me now” Peter says.
James sighs “look it’s just the stuff with Sirius and his parents” James tries to lie Peter sees right through the lie “bullshit” Peter says “your right petey” James says using the nickname James used when they were toddlers.
“If you think that will get you out of telling me it won’t” Peter said James huffed he really hoped that would work “fine but you have to make the pj promise that you won’t say anything” James told Peter. Peter laughed thinking about when they were little and coming up with the idea of the pj promise it was the ultimate promise and they thought as kids if you broke you died because you betrayed your friend.
“I pj promise Jamie” Peter told James using the nickname Peter used when they were toddlers “ok so I’m 100% sure Sirius is in love with Remus but I haven’t talked to Sirius about it because you know how he’s afraid that Remus won’t accept him” James explained.
“You know I can’t say I’m surprised” Peter told James and James slapped Peter on the back of the head “now be quiet we don’t want Moony to hear us” James said not knowing that it was too late Remus had heard everything.
“Um again I’m sorry” Sirius says looking at the ground Gideon laughs “look it’s fine but if you don’t mind me asking you’re single right because if you are I would love to take you out on a date” Gideon says and Sirius looks up confused “what?” Sirius asks “I’m asking you out” Gideon says.
Meanwhile Sirius was wandering the corridors trying to figure out a way to get over Remus so far he hasn’t fingered out a way Sirius isn’t watching where he’s going and he ends up running into someone. When he looks he sees a 7th year Gryffindor, Gideon Prewett. Sirius starts stuttering out words “I’m so sorry I wasn’t watching where I was going” Sirius manages to get out.
“Well that’s ok if you not watching where you're going means I get to have to in my arms I think I can manage” Gideon flirts and that’s when Sirius realizes he’s literally in Gideon’s arms, Sirius pulls back and stands up.
“Really? This isn’t just a joke because if it is that is really messed up” Sirius rambles Gideon grabs Sirius’ hand “It’s not a joke I like you and I want to take you out” Gideon tells Sirius “I wanna go out with you too” Sirius tells Gideon “come on I’ll walk you to your dorm” Gideon says and he holds out his hand as a invite for Sirius to grab onto his hand and Sirius takes the opportunity and they head towards the Gryffindor dorms holding hands.
Back in the boys dorms Remus was in the bathroom freaking out Sirius is in love with him and why does that make him happy. Remus is pacing in the bathroom trying to figure out what to do he doesn’t even know how he feels then he decides fuck it he’s gonna talk to the two people who made these feeling happen.
James and Peter are sitting on James’ bed when Remus barges out of the bathroom “this is your fault” Remus says to the two. James and Peter look up confused “Moony what’s wrong?” James asks.
“What’s wrong? What’s wrong is that I just heard you say Sirius is in love with me and I don't know how I feel now thanks to you” Remus rambles James and Peter look at each in worry “Moony do you have any idea how you feel?” Peter asks calmly.
“I know that thinking that Sirius is in love with me makes my heart happy but then I think about my parents” Remus says “Moony don’t worry about your parents this isn’t about them this is about you and Sirius” James says.
“I think I love him too, the way he smiles when he’s happy, the way he complains about hating the library but will always go with me to the library. I love cuddling with him when he’s padfoot and I love him” Remus says as he realizes he loves Sirius.
James and Peter hug Remus “that’s great Moony you have to tell him as soon as he gets back” James tells Remus and Remus smiles not even thinking about his parents. 
Gideon and Sirius are walking through the Gryffindor common room holding hands. Sirius laughs “oh are really gonna walk me all the way to my dorm?” Sirius asks playfully “oh yes I am spending as much time as possible with you especially since I get to hold your hand love” Gideon says.
They make it up to the dorm and Sirius walks in holding hands with Gideon. The other three marauders look up when the door opens thinking this is the moment, they see Sirius walk in and then they see someone else walk in and they all are confused.
“Guys this is my boyfriend Gideon” Sirius tells them.
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Note
Prompt: Luna, Dani, and Jamie celebrating their first mother’s day💕💕💕
Coming in under the buzzer for May for this one ✨ my heart is always so full when I get to play in the Luna sandbox 😭🥰
Also, thoughts on posting prompts on Ao3? I’m new to this so thoughts and ideas are welcome!
//
This day never really meant anything to you, aside from the last couple of years after opening the shop. Mother’s Day weekend was one of your busiest times of the year. This was not something you predicted in your first year open, both you and Dani simply forgetting you lived in a world where this was a big deal. That day was your first real lesson in what it means to run a business, only open for a fresh two months, and you quickly learned to have extra stock for this day. 
But before you opened the shop, you’d spend this day puzzled, wondering why it was so hard to get in anywhere for brunch, until one of you realized, or a sweet but overwhelmed hostess would kindly inform you of the day.
This day was always a strange one for you, whenever you took the time to dwell on it, your mother leaving you so young. You hadn’t heard a single thing about her since you were so small, and days like this always made you feel like there was so much on this earth that was just not made for you.
This day was always a strange one for Dani, too. Her never knowing if she should call her mother, after months of silence on both ends, her contentious relationship with obligation scratching its nails through her instincts. You would tell her it was just a day, and she didn’t have to call if she didn’t want to. She never did, but it would still weave tension into her shoulders, still sew stress into her routines. It would take her a few days to shake out, too, for her to forget that it felt like she did something wrong, the echoes of it resonating deep inside of her.
Last year, this day came and went with a new sort of curiosity, though, a strange apprehension for joy. Stuck in a limbo of not quite one, but not really the other yet either, with Dani fit to burst at any second; ‘10 months pregnant,’ as she described it with a groan any time she had to stand up. Last year, Dani was home resting and waiting, and you were at work, always within a one meter radius of the phone just in case Dani called, and let your trusted associate, Sue, run the show. She would be in charge of the business while you and Dani got settled when the baby came, and you knew she would be great, but that day showed you that you made a great decision when you put your trust in her.
It was still two weeks until Luna came last year after this day, late in May, a strange mix of joy and terrible fear all at once until Dani woke up and you truly, for the first time, felt like Luna was yours, when you saw her safe and snug in Dani’s arms.
But this year, with your baby almost one year old, with her running around your apartment with a new ecstatic knowledge of what her legs are for, with her few intentional sounds starting to sound like words, with her little chunky fingers pointing to things she wants, you start to feel like this day could mean something else. This day could be something better.
You didn’t make plans. The shop would be bursting with spring and with brightness already, and Dani was actually so much better at making Mother’s Day arrangements than Sue was, and you decided you didn’t need anything different. Luna was still so young, and you normally would bring her to daycare or have a sitter stay with her at home on a day as busy as this, but you decided you still wanted to be with her, because you were still figuring out what this days means for you, but you know that it has to include the three of you, together. So you bring her to the shop, and have your full staff in to help with the morning rush.
She cries a lot. She’s fussy, and she runs away from Dani’s grip and pricks her hand on a little cactus, and she’s wiggly in your arms when you’re holding her, and she knocks down a pot that is sent shattering to the ground, dirt and terracotta getting everywhere. And she’s hungry, but doesn’t want to eat anything you packed for her, and she refuses to keep her shoes on.
Dani sees you losing patience when Luna is whining in your arms and trying to escape your grip and get to the floor, and she sweeps over to you and pulls her out of your arms and she disappears with her into the back room.
The rush calms down around an hour after that, but Dani doesn't come back out. When the shop finally clears out for the first time all morning, you let out a deep breath and you feel your bones and your muscles creak with it.
You push into the back room, and you don’t see Dani in her favorite spot, or Luna in her playpen, or either of them in this space, but you see the door to the yard cracked open and you hear Luna’s sweet little laugh drifting through the air. It's only a small space out there, mostly just for your extra outdoor stock and bags of soil, not really enough to open as an area for customers to shop, but it’s nice, and Dani organized it to make it pleasant to be in.
And you peak your head through the door and see Dani sitting in the center of it, cross-legged on the ground with Luna standing in front of her, holding onto Dani’s outstretched hand to keep her balance, and Dani has the sweetest, happiest smile on her face as she watches your daughter’s head swivel in wonderment as she follows the flight of a monarch butterfly.
It’s so simple, when Dani turns her head slightly and sees you leaning against the doorframe, and you just smile back and watch them.
You’re reminded, then, of a day early in Dani’s pregnancy. She had just come back into your room, fresh from the shower and just in her underwear and her favorite red sleep shirt, and she was only just starting to show. It was what Dani had called the ‘burrito baby’ stage, only showing just enough that no one asked if she was pregnant, because they might have just thought she had a really big lunch.
But she had stood in front of your full length mirror in the corner of your room, something that you’ve noticed she’d been doing more and more often, running her hands along her belly, looking at her reflection and assessing how her body was forming around this little thing inside of her. She had looked over to you, where you sat on your bed watching her over your book, and smiled so sweetly, just like she’s smiling at you now. And it wasn’t much different than all the times before when she had done this, when she walked back over to bed and kissed you and settled in beside you, turned the TV on and laughed along to the low hum of a sitcom while you read beside her. But for whatever reason, that particular time, you were struck with an intense, all consuming fear. 
And you had talked to Dani in great length about your worries before she even got pregnant, but it was sudden right then, when all of the joy and all of the happiness that you have been feeling about this baby turned into dread, turned into the inevitability that you will fail at this, turned ice cold like you were being plunged into the sins of your past, and all you could think about was how unprepared you were, how completely idiotic you were to even consider this, how stupid you were to think you could handle it.
Dani stayed up with you until one in the morning that night, even though you told her around shaky breaths that she should rest, she just shook her head, so calmly, and said she wouldn’t be able to sleep until you felt safe. You talked through it, and what it came down to really, was how much love you didn’t expect to contain, more than you’ve ever held at once, how much fear came along with it, and how it all bottlenecked at once trying to escape you. And Dani assured you she felt it all too, how it scared her every day just how much you were going to get wrong. But she also talked about how much you would get right. How excited, how honored she felt, to give someone what neither of you were lucky enough to get. 
You fell asleep that night with her head in the crook of your neck, with her belly pressing into yours, and the warmth of Dani’s body against yours, of the small gentle press of your baby into your own body was more grounding than anything else.
But Luna is here now, laughing and stretching her arms toward you, and she is so much beyond what you ever could have imagined that night curled up around your growing little family. She is so much more than you ever thought something so small could contain. Dani is so much more, too, and you think, maybe, so are you.
And it’s Mother’s Day, and you never really felt like this day was made for you, you still felt strange accepting warm wishes from your customers all day. You never bought into the sentiment of it, the commercialism of it, feeling like it was tacky sometimes, especially when you had to bulk order plastic “Happy Mother’s Day” stakes to stick into your otherwise beautiful bouquets. 
But right here, when you pick your daughter up from the ground and swing her up over your head, and you hear her delighted shriek, when Dani stands up and reaches her hands out, instinctually worried that you might fling her into the air by accident, you think it might not be all bad. 
It’s not all bad, when Luna is strapped into her car seat on your way home and you hear her blabbing nonsense that makes you laugh, and you see Dani with her eyes closed and a faint smile on her face as she listens to it too, her head against the headrest, another busy day behind you. 
It’s not all bad, when you get home that night and Luna is the cuddliest and softest she’s been all week, snuggled up against you where you sit with her on the couch while Dani makes dinner, so warm and so safe, as her eyelids grow heavy with sleep against the vibrations in your chest as you talk to Dani from across the room.
And you didn’t need anything special, but you couldn’t have asked for a better day.
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the--highlanders · 3 years
Text
tagged by @penny-anna, thank you!!
How many works do you have on AO3?
142!
What’s your total AO3 word count?
473,453... hopefully I’m on track to hit 500,000 by the end of the year! like obvs it’s not really about the word count & when I’m writing I’m not thinking that I have to make things longer (tho I think my fics have been getting naturally longer lately? I think I’m spending more time on descriptions and scene-setting. which I like but which def hasn’t been a conscious choice) BUT I am using word count goals to stave off the temptation to count kudos and notes & then get anxious about that. sir that is my emotional support ao3 word count.
How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?
the only fandom I’ve properly posted stuff for is dr who... if you go back far enough in my main blog there might be like, 2 sh*rlock fics on my main blog. wouldn’t recommend it tho I was still in high school when I wrote them GFDJHS
I did write for both sh*rlock and torchwood tho. also warrior cats when I was quite a bit younger. & teeechnically my first fanfic was for the saddle club. but I was like, 3. so I didn’t know what a fanfic was. I was just writing a ‘book’ about the horses.
What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
(excluding timetracks because it’s not a fic to me, it’s a collection, I only put it in one ‘fic’ so I wouldn’t have to come up with individual titles for everything in it gjdhfks)
- stones
- tenth time lucky
- coincidences
- lucky guess
- amber
which is. an interesting selection gdfjkg
Do you respond to comments, why or why not?
I try to! I don’t get that many so it’s doable. I do need to get better at answering them quickly though jkdf I am very small and a little bit shy and people are very nice
What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?
oo idk maybe longing for a time that never came? (no idea why I called it that ghdfk. it’s kind of pretentious for something that never had any rhyme or reason to it). because like. are they going to survive? idk!!!
(would also like to plug this art @ettelwenailinon made for that fic because I love it and also can’t believe it’s four years old??? hello????)
more recently I think it’s the kirkyard (which is a title I actually like!! I really like this fic actually) because two can’t do any more than get jamie out of the church but jamie doesn’t KNOW and he doesn’t understand why two doesn’t even stop to talk to him & it’s painful imo
Do you write crossovers? If so what’s the craziest one you’ve written?
not really! I’ve nothing against them, I just don’t tend to write them.
I wouldn’t really class my daemon au as a crossover because like. it’s not really set in the hdm universe, just uses the concept of daemons.
on the other hand I feel like the only crossover I have /is/ pretty niche and a bit wild. lifeboat is a crossover with ark: survival evolved which is very dear to my heart & in my head sits quite nicely with the dr who universe. that fic was SO self-indulgent to write but I loved it. plus the idea of victoria’s dad having THREE scientist friends who went mad in pursuit of godhood is so incredibly funny to me that I forget it isn’t canon
(also the character being referenced in that fic is now voiced by david tennant in-game/will be in the animated series so. gift of prophecy. dfjkhsglfk)
Have you ever received hate on a fic?
nope! like I said everyone has been very nice. the only hate has been from myself gdfhlk
Do you write smut? If so what kind?
don’t read it & don’t write it. just not my thing!
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
not as far as I know o:
Have you ever had a fic translated?
yes!
What’s your all time favorite ship?
I mean it’s two/jamie. I’ve been here for like 6 years. still digging my hole.
What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?
talked about it in more detail in this ask but in terms of two-era stuff I’ve only got one that’s definitely never being finished and another that’s not got a great chance of being finished. & stuff I’ve written for other fandoms is just. look it’s gone gdjksdfdg. I don’t care about my dead sh*rlock wips it isn’t 2014 anymore
What are your writing strengths?
I honestly have no idea??? like I’m not being modest or anything, I genuinely don’t know. I think I can write some funny dialogue sometimes.
What are your writing weaknesses?
I’d really like to be better at plotting out longer fics tbh. having coherent plots and carrying through themes and details. people who can introduce an apparently inconsequential detail early in a fic and have it become relevant later in a way that makes you gasp are like, gods to me
What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?
I’m too nervous about getting stuff wrong so I wouldn’t do it unless I felt like I had enough of a grasp of the language to know what I was doing. but I am at a stage where I feel confident having some simple gàidhlig in my fics!! which is nice. I’d really like to be able to write more, and also to be able to write jamie’s dialogue with like. a sense of english as his second language/gàidhlig as his first? like in the occasional turn of phrase or way of putting something. outside of fic I’m super interested in what someone from that period who had gàidhlig as their first language and english as their second language would have sounded like and how they would have spoken.
my absolute dream would be to be able to translate all my fics completely into gàidhlig, but I’m probably years off from that, if I’ll ever be able to do it. I would really love to be able to write fiction in it, that would be a mark of proficiency in the language for me.
What was the first fandom you wrote for?
kind of answered above!
What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written?
oougkj idk!! I have so many now and honestly I forget about a lot of them.
the selkie au always has a special place in my heart, and I do love doing more historical-based ones, so I’ll say the kirkyard because I was already talking about it. if I can be a know-it-all while writing something I’m usually happy gjhklkh.
tagging @galacticlamps and anyone else who wants to do it!!
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