#which would be a HELL of a project cause that song is SEVEN MINUTES and o do have ideas for the instrumentals
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planet4546b · 3 months ago
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playing some sort of game 😁
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a-night-like--this · 3 years ago
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Boys Do Cry remake of The Cure classic launches campaign to arrest male suicide rate
Rapper Dallas Woods has lost loved ones to suicide. Now, he’s joined a remake of a famous song from The Cure to show men they can get help before it’s too late.
First Nations rapper Dallas Woods is “sick of going to funerals”. He’s lost too many family members and friends to suicide, boys and young men who couldn’t ask for help when they needed it because they felt it was a “burden”.
He is on a mission to break down the taboo of putting up a brave front instead of seeking help with the Boys Do Cry campaign, launched this week with a remake of The Cure’s famous song featuring a choir of 30 men from different walks of life.
“Real men get help and real men do cry, I wish I had that convo with my brothers in the sky,” he raps in the emotional piano-driven remake.
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Dallas Woods on the set of Boys Do Cry, the new Australian mental health campaign. Picture: David Collins.
In that verse, Woods, who grew up in the Kimberley in Western Australia, which he said has one of the highest rates of suicide per capita in the world, speaks directly to the loved ones he has lost, the cousin who took his life when the rapper was just 11 through to the best mate he was texting on the day he died.
“I’d lost a lot of mates around that time but that was the one that blew my mind because I was texting him that day, I was meant to see him. One minute he’s there, happy as, there was no indication … sometimes you know people are going through some stuff but he was literally the life of the party, the glow in the room,” Woods said.
“It really was the first time I questioned ‘What the actual hell … why?’”
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The choir with the team behind the rework of The Cure’s Boys Don't Cry. Picture: David Collins.
The Boys Do Cry campaign was created by advertising executive Simon Lee, who took 30 years to confront his chronic anxiety, and in conjunction with The University of Melbourne’s Centre for Mental Health and Gus Worland’s mental fitness foundation Gotcha4Life.
In the last 12 months in Australia 2384 men have taken their own lives. That’s an average of seven men every day, making suicide the leading cause of death in Australian males aged 15-49.
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British-born Lee said the “stiff upper lip” mantra he grew up with also permeates Australian culture” and does not “produce emotionally balanced men who are comfortable to emote.”
“Before I had therapy, my fear was if I went deep inside myself to examine what was going on, the sense I had was this fear of murky darkness, this writhing kraken of the deep waiting down there,” he said.
“When you start peeling back the layers, it wasn’t as scary or dark as I thought it was and the knot in my stomach loosened and the ongoing negative dialogue in my head relaxed a little bit.”
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The choir circle at the Boys Do Cry shoot. Picture: David Collins
The music video has already been tested by the The University of Melbourne Centre for Mental Health as part of the Buoy Project to identify effective suicide prevention interventions for boys and men.
Preliminary findings from their random controlled trial of the Boys Do Cry clip found “men were more likely to say they would seek help if they were struggling.”
Woods has spent the past 14 years, alongside his music career, working on social and emotional wellbeing health campaigns in more than 300 remote and urban indigenous communities and sees Boys Do Cry as a pivotal moment in the mission to arrest male suicide rates.
“Out of the Kimberley, I’ve been able to get to the resources and the people to help me through my own journey of healing and now we have to normalise that, not let it keep being normal to not do anything about it,” he said.
IF YOU NEED HELP PLEASE CALL:
Lifeline Australia – 13 11 14 (available 24/7)
Text 0477 13 11 14
Chat online: lifelife.org.au (7pm-midnight)
Kids Helpline – 1800 55 1800
Kidshelpline.com.au
Beyond Blue – 1300 224 636 (available 24/7)
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multi-fandom-freak0221 · 4 years ago
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You Killed Me, but I Survived and Now I'm Coming Alive
Hey guys. It's been a minute. My job have been kicking my ass. I quit one of them a few months back cause 16-18 hour days were kicking my ass. But my dad died of Covid 1/20/21, on my older sisters birthday and month before my 20th birthday. I am half a country away from him and I won't be going to see the rest of them, but I do have 3 paid days bereavement and while I'm trying to distract myself I decided to try and finish this part. Your feedback motivates me so much. This part was the part I've been waiting for. The whole reason I created this fic. Like for real I had like maybe one sentence summaries planned for the other two parts in my head but this part played out like a full movie in my head down to the last details. This one will probably be the longest. It also has like 3 songs in it because it's the concert/gala scene hopefully I'll be able to cut it down some because i won't need descriptions between every lyrics but who knows. C'est la Vie. Anyways this will be the official last part, but I do already have one for sure bonus planned and a possible bonus that I might do if enough people want it.
This part's title is from "Miss Moving On" by Fifth Harmony. And this part includes the songs "Sorry (I'm not Sorry)" by Demi Lovato, "Home" by Philip Phillips, and "Symphony" by Clean Bandit ft . (Which for me is like a fucking poly anthem. I'm mean a symphony is a perfect metaphor for a healthy poly relationship! I mean it is a lovely way of asking to join into a poly group! Anywho I'm ranting and projecting. Ignore me.)
This is Part 3 of my fic based on @maiisdaddy 's Love of Three.
Tagging list:
@thestressmademedoit @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @lizziejay @indecisive-mess-named-me @captainmac6 @luveverything12 @kris-pines04 @brokenwordsarehard2 @roselynfey @mewwitch @stainedglassm
Part 1 Part 2
Marinette was ecstatic. She was extremely proud of all that she had accomplished in the 6 or 7 seven months since she left Damian. She became a singing sensation and recorded a whole album that would be releasing soon. She spent time healing and hanging out with her friends and pseudo family. Hell she even created outfits for herself and all her friends for the album release/identity reveal gala her Uncle Tony decided to throw for. Not that other guest knew that what this gala was for. Uncle Tony had picked the next closest international holiday and claimed it was a charity gala in honor of said holiday. While he may mot have been being entirely truthful there is never a bad reason to give to charity so she wasn't going to dwell on it.
She could truly say she totally over Damian. She even had Adrien take the ring back to her old apartment for her. She was not worried about him anymore. She had more important matters to attend to. Like the 3 boys who stole her heart while helping her piece it back together. Which she would say was great timing because she was sure Bruce Wayne would be at this gala. She guesses it was some kind of billionaire/millionaire code to never miss a charity event hosted by a fellow billionaires/millionaires.
Either way it was for the best because as soon as Uncle Tony had suggested a gala to reveal at, she had Uncle Jagged help her with two songs that she kept secret from everyone. One to show her appreciate for all her family and friend's support for her and one to confess to the 3 boys who loved her when she felt unlovable. She was going to preform these song for her friends in front of a lot of influential people but she wasn't even nervous. Not even when Alix told her that the gala was to be live streamed. No she was just excited and happy to let her friends know how she was feeling.
The gala was in full swing. All the guests who were coming were already there by the time Marinette and everyone else she came with arrived. She was talking with Chloe, Kagami, and Alix when she decided to grab herself a drink. She was walking to the refreshments table when accidentally bumped in someone's back slightly. "Oh! I'm sorry, sir."
The man then turned around to reveal to be Bruce Wayne himself. "Marinette! I'm surprised to see you. Damian said you were feeling too sick to attend."
Marinette wanted to scowl, but she managed keep her face neutral. She knew there were reporters swarming here and she did not want to make a spectacle. "I'm sure he did. Now if you'll excuse me, Mr. Wayne I was on my way to get a drink." She didn't even get a chance to leave Bruce in confusion from her statement. No sooner than she took a step to leave did Dick walk up to her.
Dick smiled at her as he greeted her kindly. "Sunshine! It's been a while. I thought Damian said you were under the weather?" As he moved in to hug her she sidestepped out of his reach.
Once upon a time she loved Dick's hugs, but now it would just feel fake. "I'm sure your brother has said many thing about my lack of attendance to many social gatherings. Unfortunately those claims were false as Damian has not been privy to my whereabouts in months. Now if you please excuse me."
She went to walk away again, but she guesses Dick's interference was enough time for Bruce get over his shock because he blocked her path again. "What are you talking about Marinette?" Marinette resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
"Mr. Wayne it has been nice talking with you but this really is a conversation for another time." Marinette sighs. She was trying to be civil. She was sure there were reporters everywhere waiting for the big scoop. She wanted that to be her reveal not her past relationship with an asshole. "Besides this is probably something you'd need to talk to Damian about."
"Talk to me, about what?" There is no God, she was convinced. The sigh that left her mouth was long and full of suffering as she turned around with a clearly fake smile. Facing her now was Damian himself with Tim and Jason behind him. Damian was clearly extremely shocked to she her, but he played it off quickly. "Angel I thought you weren't feeling well. Why didn't you tell me you changed your mind? You could have came with us."
Marinette ducked out of Damian's reach, barely restraining from stomping on his foot with her heels, as he tried to kiss her. "Do not call me Angel. And don't you dare even try to kiss me, Wayne."
Before Marinette could lose her temper anymore Luka came and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Everything okay, Melody?" Marinette took some calming breaths as she attempted to regain her composure.
While she was trying to calm down, it seemed the Wayne family was getting worked up. "And who is this, Marinette?" Bruce asked accusingly.
Marinette looked at the family in front of her in disbelief. "You all met Luka. He's my best friend. Signed under Jagged. In a committed relationship with two of my other best friends, Kagami and Adrien." She shook her head as the all held sheepish expression for assuming the worst. "Not that who I'm with is any of your business anyways."
Before any of them could question to her statement, Felix comes to her other side and whispers into her ear. "Do you want me to call security?" She didn't even get a chance to respond before she heard Dick gasp, scandalized.
"Marinette!! Are you cheating on Damian?" Dick exclaimed. At this point Marinette knew they were drawing a crowd she was trying to keep everyone's dignity intact, even though her reputation wasn't the one at stake.
"Mr. Wayne I once again implore you that we have this conversation in a more private setting." Marinette spoke calmly, but through gritted teeth. She was on her nerve.
Bruce crossed his arm and spoke loudly drawing more attention to them. "No. I demand you explain to me at once why you are here with another man when you are supposed to be marrying my son. Was this all some kind of ruse to go after the Wayne Fortune?" Her jaw dropped. She knew it did but she couldn't stop herself from the shock. The sheer audacity of this family before her. She quickly shut her mouth as her eyes narrowed into a deadly glare. Her Ladybug glare. The Wayne family would never admit it but an involuntary shiver went down their spines at the sight of it.
She knew her friends had gathered behind her at this point and see could see the reporters pushing past each other to get the scoop. Vicki Vale was the closest one. In the corner of her eye she saw the camera that was set up for the livestream as well.
Marinette face finally settled on a look mixed with anger and mischief. "Oh? So want to cause a scene, Mr. Wayne? Well how about I put on a show?" She continued to stare Bruce in the eye as she spoke to one of her, "Chloe, can you tell Jagged that I'll be opening with Sorry. The rest of the show will go as planned." Chloe smiled wickedly before going to do asked.
The Wayne family began to smirk when they heard her say sorry, but whatever they began to feel was quickly shut down as she spoke to them again. "Let's get this straight, Mr. Wayne. I am not cheating on Damian and I never once desired to a part of your family's fortune. It was foolish of me to even once want to be a part of your family but I quickly learned better. I would not want to even look at the money that is connected to your family's name if the requirement was to be even cordial with Damian, let alone married to him."
She then towards the crowd the surrounding them. "If everyone would please take their seats facing the stage the show is about to to begin." Without a second thought Marinette headed towards the stage while the rest of her friends took their seats. Some one who was in the staff working tonight led the Wayne family to seats right in front of the stage. Soon everyone was seated and Marinette was standing center stage with a microphone.
Marinette smiled brightly at the crowd. "Thank you all for coming. I'm sure you all know me as Marinette Dupain-Cheng, pseudo niece of Tony Stark and Jagged Stone, and for some of you ex-fiance of Damian, but for others you still current fiance of Damian Wayne. Well I hate to inform that some of you are wrong. Anyways I'm sure your wondering why I'm up here. Well Uncle Tony promised a surprise musical guest so I'd like to reintroduce myself to all of as Neon Titanium! I'm going to be preforming a few songs for you tonight from my new album about to release but before that I decided I should clear the air. Let me start by saying it has been about 7 months since I broke off my engagement to Damian Wanye. While most of you know I chose to kept the reason of said break up private, someone here tonight decided that they were entitled to the reason to being told to them, very publicly. And who am I to deny such a request?" There was a false sincerity to her final sentence that seemed almost menacing.
In the front you can see the paling faces of many of the Wayne men as Tim is on his phone. He finally pulls up Marinette interview that was released prior to Damian announcement. "Damian, what the hell did you do?" Tim voice was barely above a whisper but they all heard it.
Marinette continued on quite content to the situation before her. "Well here's the truth. Damian did the unforgivable. He repeatedly cheated on me while emotionally abusing me and gaslighting me.
"He kept me from seeing everyone I cared about and his own family, claiming it was for my own safety and called me selfish for wanting to leave the apartment he kept me locked in. And while at first he seemed to actually be concerned my wellbeing, over time he stopped caring.
"He became distant, turning back into the Ice Prince you all knew him to be. He would lie about why I wouldn't leave the apartment constantly while still leaving me alone in the apartment constantly. Then he started getting late night calls from "work" to the point I would barely see him. I overheard one of these calls once. I heard him telling who ever was on the other side of the phone that I had no clue and to be waiting for him naked. But I stayed hopeful. I thought I could fix things. But he got worse.
"He was slept with the one person who made it their life goal to take everything from me. Even before I moved to Gotham, this girl hated me and she took all of the people who I thought were my friends and turned them against me. My true friends stayed and knew the truth but it still hurt. And Damien knew this. I told him all about this girl abd how she hurt me. Yet he still slept with her.
"The girl knew I was Damien's fiance. Somehow she got my number and sent me a picture of her in bed with Damian, both of them naked. I'm not going to lie I broke down when I saw that. Before her I could play ignorant and act like I didn't know what he was doing. But this? This was impossible for me to ignore. He cared so little about me that he slept with the one person who do whatever it takes to hurt me. I left that same night with only the things that were mine. Everything I bought came with and everything he bought me stayed. Including the cell phone he bought me when I moved in with him. The only thing that wasn't mine that came with was the engagement ring because I couldn't bring myself to truly accept the truth that it was over yet. I later on had it returned because I remember Mr. Wayne saying it belonged to his mother, though I'm guessing Damian didn't notice."
Marinette saw Bruce whip his head towards Damian who shrunk in on himself.
"Oops. Guess it wasn't noticed indeed. Anyways. For the last 7 months I have been living in Stark Towers with my Uncle Tony, healing with some of my closest friends helping me. And after some convincing working on an album with Luka and my Uncle Jagged. I will preforming a few of those songs for the gala tonight and they will also be live streamed for those who paid for virtual tickets. My album will be released in the next following week." Marinette took a deep breath as she prepared for her first song.
"Originally I planned to open with a different song tonight but after this impromptu info dump, I thought only fair to follow it with the song I wrote dedicated to Damian. I like to call this one Sorry" As Marinette finished the music started playing over the speakers. Soon she was singing passionately.
Now I'm out here looking like revenge
Feelin' like a ten, the best I ever been
And yeah, I know how bad it must hurt to see me like this,
But it gets worse (wait a minute)
She pointed to Damian while rolling her eyes.
Now you're out here looking like regret
Ain't too proud to beg, second chance you'll never get
And yeah, I know how bad it must hurt to see me like this
But it gets worse (wait a minute)
She took the mic off it's stand as she walked along the front of the stage.
Now payback is a bad bitch
And baby, I'm the baddest
You fuckin' with a savage
Can't have this, can't have this (ah)
And it'd be nice of me to take it easy on ya, but nah
Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)
Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)
Being so bad got me feelin' so good
Showing you up like I knew that I would
Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)
Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)
Feeling inspired 'cause the tables have turned
Yeah, I'm on fire and I know that it burns
Baby, fineness is the way to kill
Marinette gestured to herself from head to toe.
Tell me how it feel, bet it's such a bitter pill
And yeah, I know you thought you had bigger, better things
Bet right now this stings (wait a minute)
'Cause the grass is greener under me
Bright as Technicolor, I can tell that you can see
And yeah, I know how bad it must hurt to see me like this
But it gets worse (wait a minute)
By this point Chloe, Kagami, and Adrien had got up and started dancing along to the song.
Now payback is a bad bitch
And baby, I'm the baddest
You fuckin' with a savage
Can't have this, can't have this (ah)
And it'd be nice of me to take it easy on ya, but nah
Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)
Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)
Being so bad got me feelin' so good
Showing you up like I knew that I would
Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)
Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)
Feeling inspired 'cause the tables have turned
Yeah, I'm on fire and I know that it burns
Marinette waved to her 3 friends to join on stage for the next part.
Talk that talk, baby
Better walk, better walk that walk, baby
If you talk, if you talk that talk, baby
Everyone was clapping to the beat while Marinette pranced across the stage, except for the Wayne family.
Better walk, better walk that walk, baby
Oh yeah Talk that talk, baby
Better walk, better walk that walk, baby
If you talk, if you talk that talk, baby
Better walk, better walk that walk, baby (oh yeah)
Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)
Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)
Being so bad got me feelin' so good
Showing you up like I knew that I would
Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)
Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)
Feeling inspired 'cause the tables have turned
Yeah, I'm on fire and I know that it burns
As the song came to a close, there was a roar of applause as her friends went back to her table.
Marinette did a little half bow. "Thank you. Thank you."
She wait till it was quiet again as she returned the mic to the stand. "Now as you can all see I'm doing much better now and I'm happy without him, but if it wasn't for the support system I have I never would have made it to where I am. My parents are in France so in my time of need I turned to my family who was close. My uncles Jagged and Tony, and my aunts Penny and Pepper. They're wonderful and they have always been there for me when I need them. And also my friends, both old and new have stood by me through all of this and helped me come out stronger. So this next song was a surprise gift for them."
Jagged had grabbed an acoustic guitar and was playing her in sitting in the background of her as a projection shined on the wall behind her, showing pictures of her with her friends and her uncles and aunts.
Hold on, to me as we go
As we roll down this unfamiliar road
And although this wave is stringing us along
Just know you're not alone
'Cause I'm going to make this place your home
Settle down, it'll all be clear
Don't pay no mind to the demons
They fill you with fear
The trouble it might drag you down
If you get lost, you can always be found
Just know you're not alone
'Cause I'm going to make this place your home
She took the mic off the stand again as she walk off the stage to her friends and family in the crowd giving the hugs as vocalized along with music.
On the screen was several pictures she found. She put together the slideshow herself. There was a picture of herself crying in the midst of group hug while the people around her comforted. Another was her and all her friends playing in the pool. There was one where they had an impromptu free-for-all dodgeball game and she had won. She was laughing as the guys lifted her into and the girls were all cheering around her.
She made her way back to the stage after the final hug.
Settle down, it'll all be clear
Don't pay no mind to the demons
They fill you with fear
The trouble it might drag you down
If you get lost, you can always be found
Just know you're not alone
'Cause I'm going to make this place your home
She smiled as projector turned off and the crowd applauded again. "Thank you all. But truly thank you to my friends and family for helping and supporting me."
She waited till it was quiet once more before speaking again. "All those who love me have done so much for me, but right now I wanna talk about 3 very special people."
She smiled softly as she looked over to where Peter, Felix, and Jon were sitting. "These 3 boys did so much for me even though they were the ones who knew me the shortest. They've been kind and patient and understanding with me. They all started to love me when I felt my most unlovable. And soon they found a love in each other as well. The best part is even after loving each other they offered to include me in their love as well, whenever I was ready. They gave me their friendship unconditionally no matter what my answer came to be and never rushed me for an answer ever. So Jon, Felix, and Peter this song is for you."
She saw the Wayne family's eyes widen, but she paid them no mind as she started singing.
I've been hearing symphonies
Before all I heard was silence
A rhapsody for you and me
And every melody is timeless
Life was stringing me along
Then you came and you cut me loose
Was solo singing on my own
Now I can't find the key without you
And now your song is on repeat
And I'm dancin' on to your heartbeat
And when you're gone, I feel incomplete
So if you want the truth
I just wanna be part of your symphony
Will you hold me tight and not let go?
Symphony
Like a love song on the radio
Will you hold me tight and not let go?
I'm sorry if it's all too much
Every day you're here, I'm healing
And I was runnin' out of luck
I never thought I'd find this feeling
At this point Marinette had walked down the stage grabbed Jon's hand and led him back to the stage dancing.
'Cause I've been hearing symphonies
Before all I heard was silence
A rhapsody for you and me
(A rhapsody for you and me)
And every melody is timeless
She repeated the process with Felix as Jon danced nervously danced on stage.
And now your song is on repeat
And I'm dancin' on to your heartbeat
And when you're gone, I feel incomplete
So if you want the truth
She left Felix and Jon dancing together as she brought Peter back to the stage with her. She continued to dance with him as she sang.
I just wanna be part of your symphony
Will you hold me tight and not let go?
Symphony
Like a love song on the radio
Will you hold me tight and not let go?
Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah
Ah ah, ah
She smiled as Peter dipped her before bring her back up and handing her off to Felix.
Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah
Ah ah, ah
Felix twirled her, letting her dress flare, as she spun right in to join awaiting arms where he lifted her into the air.
And now your song is on repeat
And I'm dancin' on to your heartbeat
He slowly set her down and she turned until her back is against his chest. His hand are on hips as they sway gently.
And when you're gone, I feel incomplete
So if you want the truth
Peter and Felix were mimicking her position with Jon in front of her and she put an arm around Peter's neck while the other still held the microphone.
(Oh, oh, oh)
I just wanna be part of your symphony
Will you hold me tight and not let go?
Symphony
Like a love song on the radio
Symphony
Will you hold me tight and not let go?
Symphony
Like a love song on the radio
Will you hold me tight and not let go?
This time as she finished singing the crowd was silent as she looked at the 3 boys who held her heart. "Jon. Felix. Peter. You guys are some of the best people to ever walk into my life. I want nothing more than to be with you 3. So if you are still willing, will you do me the honor of calling me your girlfriend?"
She looked hopeful as the silence filled her ears. It felt like hours, even though it was definitely seconds, before she heard them all say yes.
Cheers erupted as Peter kissed her and Jon and Felix kissed each other over the former two's heads. She then turned kissed Jon as Peter kissed Felix, before kissing Felix as Jon kissed Peter. She grinning wildly when the all finally pulled away from each other.
She raised the mic to her lips as she closed out. "Thank you all for being here for my reveal/debut! I got one more song that I'll be preforming at the end of the gala, so y'all have fun and mingle. Once again, this is Marinette Dupain-Cheng aka Neon Titanium, I'm glad you enjoyed the show!"
She winked at Bruce on her last word as she walked off the stage with the loves of her life to where her family and friends were waiting for her.
Her and her boys (and Kwami does she love that -Her boys) were in the midst of getting congratulations when she heard someone clear their throat behind her. Bruce Wayne stood as tall as ever though he refused to meet any of her group's eyes.
"Ms. Dupain-Cheng, I apologize for my early behavior tonight, I was missing the whole story." He voice was steady but some shame shone through. His boys were behind him all of them also looking sheepish except Damian who was glaring at her new loves Jon in particular.
Marinette rolled her eyes. "You know as well as I do that the media are sharks, and events like these are a feeding frenzy for them. I tried my hardest to keep all of our reputations intact tonight, a lot harder than I should have since I had nothing to hide since I was the victim here. Yet, you in no regards of the truth, attempted to smear me with no hesitation. Personally the rest of you did nothing to me so I had no ill will towards you, but you forced my hand. The results of today are direct consequences of your own actions."
Before anyone else could speak up Damian did. "Kent," He nearly growled. "Why didn't you inform me as soon as you knew she was gone. As my best friend you should have informed me immediately!"
Jon answered lowly in a dark tone no had ever heard him use before. "My father tried to warn you father, Wayne, but when questioned you just dug your own grave deeper. Besides as my father explained to me it is not our job to make sure you two are aware of the going ons of your own household. Also you lost the right to be my best friend when you decided to be so cruel to the person you were supposed to love and then lie when confronted about it."
Marinette scoffed. "I figured when you finally noticed I was gone you'd assume I was off throwing a temper tantrum in hiding somewhere and that I'd come back. The fact that you weren't even worried about me in all that time I was missing is really telling."
Bruce glared Damian down from respond as his brothers held him back. "I just have one more question before we rightfully leave you alone. You said you had the ring return? Where could it possibly be?"
Marinette shrugged. "I had Adrien return it a couple months ago. Damian was fucking some girl in his apartment when Adrien walked in and he didn't even notice him set it on the dresser. I believe heard on the grapevine someone named Lila is claim she's Damian's true love and he had to keep up our engagement for appearances. She also claimed he proposed to her with a Wayne family heirloom until he get away from me. I guess maybe next time Damian should pay better attention to his house guests." She giggled sarcastically afterwards.
Bruce frowned as he nodded. "I see. I'll leave you all alone now. Have a wonderful evening, and congratulations." As he led his family away Marinette could hear whispered yelling but could make out a few phrases like "PR Nightmare", "priceless heirloom", "huge mistake", and even "major fuck up".
As soon as they were out of hearing range Marinette started laughing, causing everyone around her to laugh too. She finally calmed down eventually but her large smile never went away. This is the happiest and the most free she's felt in the long time.
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ms-rampage · 4 years ago
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Eden’s Gate: The Mother Chapter 1 - Hope County
Warnings: Some swearing
Word count: 1.8k
Where it all began. 
Summary: Mandy Winchester, a single mother who lost custody of her 2 teenage daughters 4 months earlier passes through Hope County, Montana that has been liberated by a doomsday Cult. Upon arrival in Hope County she catches the attention of a certain Leader.
Guest OCs: None
Guest Characters: Archangel Raphael (Supernatural), Chuck/God [mentioned]
Note: This takes place in 2012. Supernatural & Far Cry 5 crossover. 
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*********
*Ace of Spades by Motorhead plays over the radio*
If you like to gamble, I tell you I’m you man
You win some, you lose some, all the same to me
41 year old Mandy Winchester drives down the road entering Hope County, Montana.
Passing through to get some gas, food, maybe some beer and rest.
Drumming her fingers along with the song on the wheel, singing along with the song.
The pleasure is to play, makes no difference what you say
I don’t share your greed, the only card I need is the Ace of Spades
The Ace of Spades .
Playing for the high one, dancing with the devil.
Going with the flow, it’s all a game to me.
Driving down the countryside road.
Seven or eleven, snake eyes watching you
Double up, or quit, double stake, or split- 
Not even halfway through the song, the radio cuts out with static. Changing it to some depressing Christian music.
“What the hell?!?” she says, trying to fix the radio.
When none of that helps, she shuts it off. Driving in silence. 
She was told she had to go to Hope County by Archangel Raphael. He didn’t say much on why she had to go. 
All that she had to protect a certain man.
Because “God was gonna speak with him, or that God spoke with him about the end”. Something like that. 
She doesn’t even know this man’s name, or what he looks like. But he did say that she’ll know when she sees him. Her gut will tell her, that still didn’t help. She thought she was wasting her time, she could’ve been looking for her husband’s killer, but Raphael said that this will “help her with what she needed” whatever that meant.
She drives down the road in the Henbane River. 
Nothing unusual, seems like a normal country town. She pulls into the Misty River Gas station. Getting out, putting gas into her truck. 
A quiet town. She knows her daughters would’ve loved it here. As gas is being pumped into her truck, she looks around.
“Passing through?!” a man’s voice asks from behind her.
She turns around to face him, “Yeah, I’m here on business”.
He nods, “Well be careful. There’s a lot of crazies here”.
She chuckles, “Don’t worry”, she pulls out her .45 pistol, “I got that covered”.
He nods his head, smiling, “Well that’s a good start”.
She takes the pump of her truck putting back in the gauge.
“Where can I find a place to eat?!” she asks him. 
“Well you can go to the Spread Eagle bar that's over in Holland Valley, 8 Bit Pizza, Aubrey’s Diner or Whistling Beaver Brewery they’re here in Henbane, or you can go to the Grill Steak that’s over in the Whitetail Mountains”.
Mandy nods her head, “Which one do you prefer?!?”.
He takes a moment, “I would say Spread Eagle”.
She nods her head again, “Alright I’ll check it out. Thanks”.
“No problem. Have a nice day ma’am” he says, going back inside the gas station. 
Mandy takes off down the road. Crossing over a bridge leading to Holland Valley.
“Okay where is this place?!” she asks herself.
Driving through Falls End, she spots the bar. Parking her truck outside. She walks in to it with the smell of chicken wings, and whiskey. Looking around the bar, its not too busy, not too slow, she takes a seat at the bar.
A blonde young woman behind the bar approaches her.
“What can I get you hon?”
Mandy looks down at the menu attached to the bar counter.
“Uhh, I’ll have Guinness, and some chicken wings. Buffalo sauce on the side please. Thank you”.
She gives her order to the cook, and gives her a bottle of Guinness.
“You’re not from around here are you?!” she asks.
Shaking her head, “No, I’m just here on business” she answers.
“What kind of business? If you don’t mind me asking” she asks.
“FBI” she replies. 
She raises her eyebrows, “Really?”.
 She laughs, “No, I’m joking. I’m just passing through”.
“I see you got a sense of humor. We need that around here” she says, cleaning glasses. 
“What’s it like around here?!’ Mandy asks, before taking a sip of her beer.
“It’s quiet. But beware there’s a Cult growing here” she says.
“A Cult?!” she questions.
“Yep, they’ve been growing, kidnapping people to join, stealing property.”
“What about the police?! What are they doing about it?!?” she asks.
Mary May scoffs, “They ain’t doing fucking shit. We have to fend for ourselves”.
“I’m Mary May by the way"
“Mandy” she says. 
“Nice to meet you Mandy” she greets.
She gives Mandy her food, and she eats them, while chatting with Mary.
“So what’s this Cult?!” she asks.
“They’re called the Project at Eden’s Gate”
“A religious cult. They’re the worst” she jokes.
“This Cult ain’t no joke. They’ve kidnapped people, forcing them out of their homes, taking over businesses, killing innocent people if they refuse to join them” Mary tells her, while cleaning the counter, “They’ve tried taking my bar. My father’s bar. I did everything I could to protect this place”.
They talk for another hour, and a few beers later, Mandy leaves for a motel in the Henbane River that Mary May had recommended, King’s Hot Springs Hotel, to get some shut eye. 
She planned on leaving the next day, but unfortunately due to the Cult, she’s trapped in Hope County. Now she has a reason to “protect” this man who is living in Hope County. Doesn’t know his name, what he looks like, none of that shit.
While driving back to the Henbane, on her way to the hotel, she slams on the brakes to her truck. When three bald people run in front of her truck. Looking like they escaped a mental asylum.
“Oh shit!!!” she yells, slamming on the brake pedal. That scared the living shit out of her.
“What the fuck?!?” she says under her breath.
She continues her drive to the hotel. Arriving at the hotel, she walks in, goes up to the front desk
She’s able to get a room, despite all the Cultists running around and stealing properties.
Mandy’s showers, and goes to sleep.
Figuring out who this person Raphael told her about in the morning. In the middle of the night around 1:30am, a loud crash sound of glass breaking from downstairs in the lobby wakes her up. 
Gun shots, and the sound of bodies dropping. Making her room windows vibrate. Heavy footsteps, moving up the stairs. She reaches over to her nightstand, and grabs her pistol.
Waiting for whoever that broke in, to break into her room. 
After a few minutes, her bedroom door bursts open, and before they could even take a step in, and see her.
She fires two bullets at them, one in each of their skulls. Killing them both.
“What the fuck?!?” she mutters.
She checks them both, and one of them as an usual symbol on their forehead. 
“What the fuck is that?!?” she asks herself, examining the symbol. She has never seen anything like it before.
She moves the bodies out of her room, and into the hallway away from her door.
She tries to go back to sleep, but fails to do so. Staying up, listening to every little sound. The sun finally comes up, Mandy gets dressed, and goes downstairs.
The clerk that checked her in is dead, the bellhop is dead.
A few people that were staying there are dead.
She quickly leaves the hotel, and drives towards Aubrey’s Diner for something to eat. On the drive there she sees that same exact symbol on a billboard.
“What the hell is that damn symbol?!?” she asks out loud to herself.
She pulls up to the diner, and it’s been taken over by Cultists.
“Are you fucking serious?!?” she says.
She drives away, and pulls over to the side of the road, near a huge field with cattle.  She sighs, closes her eyes and prays to Archangel Raphael.
“Hey Raphael, it's me Mandy Winchester. You told me to come to Hope County, Montana to protect some man. You didn’t even tell me his name, or tell me what he looks like. So get your feather ass down here, and give me that information!!”.
After a few minutes of silence, she’s about to start her truck and drive away when the fluttering of feathers, and the Archangel appears in her passenger seat.
“Well it’s about time!” she says.
“You prayed for me?!” he asks.
She nods, “Yeah, you told me to come here to protect some man. I don’t know from who, or from what. But you told me I needed to protect him because of Chuck”.
Raphael sighs, “His name is Joseph Seed. You can’t miss him, he wears yellow sunglasses, and is often shirtless. A very distinguished character”.
Mandy shrugs, “Okay where would I find Joseph Seed?!”.
“His compound. The middle island between the Whitetails, and Henbane. The one that's all fenced up” he says.
“Okay, so what do I do?!” she asks.
“You’ll have to wait” he says.
“For what?!”.
“For him to approach, or ask for you. God has mentioned you to him” he tells her.
“Why would Chuck say that to him?!” she asks, concerned. 
“He didn’t say. All he said to Joseph was that “A woman will make herself clear to you, and will be your guide”. That’s all he said to me, but I’m sure he said more to Joseph”.
Mandy sighs in frustration, “Great, so what do I do?!. Just sit around, and wait for him to notice me?!”.
“God will tell him of your arrival” he tells her.
“So when I do meet him, what do I say to him?!?. “I’m here to protect you?!”, or “God sent me?!”, what do I tell him?!”.
“Whatever Joseph says to you. Go with it. It is important that you protect him. From death, being arrested, anything that’ll cause him to be gone, or in danger”.
***********************************************
Joseph’s compound
The Church of Eden’s Gate just finished having their sermon, spoken by The Father Joseph Seed.
God has been speaking to him, about the arrival of a particular woman that will guide the Project to the gates of Eden.  After the sermon, Joseph gets lost in a trance, lost in his visions, he closes his eyes, the voice speaking to him.
Telling him, “She has arrived, she is here. She will show herself. The Mother will guide you, and your flock to the New World”.
Mandy’s face shows in Joseph’s mind. Her smile, driving in her truck, filling it up, eating at the Spread Eagle, checking into the King’s Hot Springs Hotel, and killing one of his followers. 
“Father?, Father Joseph? Are you okay?” one of his followers asks.
He opens his eyes. “Yes my child. It was just a vision" he responds.
“A vision?” they ask.
“Yes, she has arrived. The Mother has arrived” he answers, turning to face them.
11 notes · View notes
nickelkeep · 4 years ago
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What Mattered Most
Pairing: Dean/Cas Rating: Teen, for some profanity. Word Count: 6.1K Warnings: Pining, Internalized Homophobia Written For: Nickel’s Storytime On Ao3
Dean stormed into Crowley’s office, despite the warnings from the overworked and underpaid assistant. He threw the copy of Rolling Stone he carried onto Crowley’s desk and waited for his demon of an agent to get off his phone call.
“Seems I forgot about a meeting. A client just showed up at my office.” Crowley shot a smile in warning at Dean. “We’ll catch up soon. I want you to tell me all about this new talent of yours, Kipling. Until next time.” Crowley hung up the phone and picked up the magazine. “Ah, yes. Thursday James. Apparently Country’s brightest new star.” He tossed it back on his desk. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?”
“I want to come out,” Dean replied simply and plainly. “I have hidden for the past 15 years because you said my music wouldn’t sell. I’m done not being me, I’m done hiding.” He pointed at the magazine. “He’s been on the scene for six months, and he booked a Stones cover? It took me seven years, Crowley. Seven! They never put country artists on the front.”
Crowley sighed and picked up the magazine and stared at it for a few silent moments before dropping it back on his desk. “No.”
“What the fucking hell!?” Dean’s arms shot out to the sides in exasperation before he pulled them back in, gripping his fingers on the chairback in front of him. “I have done everything you have ever asked of me, Crowley. I am just sick of living a damn lie.”
“So, you want to be ridiculed and laughed out of the country music scene?” Crowley pushed himself to his feet and leaned forward. While Dean had several inches on him, Crowley’s presence alone could cause most to back off. “You have succeeded in this world because you pushed that life away. You have sold out arenas because you are what women want and what men aspire to be. Until you retire, you are the straight, all-American boy. Do you understand?”
“No. I don’t.” Dean stormed back to the doors and swung them open, exposing Sam and Charlie, his lawyer and PR person. “So, I quit.”
“You really want to throw away your, as you acknowledged, 15-year career because you can’t hold hands with a man in public?” Crowley rolled his eyes as Sam and Charlie sat in the chairs across from him. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Dean. I have not led you wrong. I have not given you any bad advice.”
“You did, 17 years ago, when you first found Dean,” Charlie spoke up.
“He wasn’t out then, and he’s not out now.” Crowley tilted his head and looked at Dean. “Are you?”
“Not yet.” Dean shook his head.
Sam sighed exasperatedly. “For what it’s worth, Fergus, I did advise him to ask you differently. That being said, I don’t disagree with my brother. He’s done everything you asked. It’s been 15 years, and clearly, the world has changed.” Sam pointed at the magazine on the desk. “The world is in love with Thursday James. He’s proven that being queer isn’t a crime. And we’re not changing who Dean is. We’re not asking for chaps and songs about rainbows. We’re just asking you to let him be the person he’s hidden for 15 years. For you.”
“He doesn’t need a big coming-out party.” Crowley gestured at Dean. “Is there a person you’re interested in dating, Dean? Is that what this is? Go on a date. You’re not restricted to going out solo or having beards anymore.”
“Not good enough.” Charlie tapped Sam on the shoulder and pointed down to his briefcase. “As Dean’s lawyer and PR, we’re submitting an amendment to his contract, advising of it’s instant and final termination in regards to Article 2, Section 13.”
“A conflict of interest?” Crowley shook his head. “This is not a conflict of interest. This is me trying to protect my client, which is my job as his manager.”
Sam pulled out the stack of paper and set it on top of the magazine. “It’s a clean cut. We pay you a lump sum that equals 13% of his projected income for the next five years, which is a current 5% more than you take right now. Dean comes off your roster instantly.”
Crowley picked up the papers and quickly flipped through. “I also give up my rights to royalty and merchandising profits. Why?”
“Didn’t think you wanted to be associated with a gay country singer, Crowley.” Dean stood between Charlie and Sam, hands shoved in his pockets as he rocked back and forth from heel to toe. “Figured that 5% would make up for it.”
“Dean. Listen to yourself. You really want to throw our partnership away?” Crowley was practically pleading with Dean. “Why do you want to do this to your career?”
“Crowley, if my fans truly love me, I won’t lose them. And if anything, I’m openly welcoming a whole group of potential fans who think they’re not wanted. This is what’s best for not only me but also for the future of Country.”
Crowley stood up straight and rubbed at his temples. “Fine.” He handed the contract amendment back to Sam. “Believe it or not, I do want you happy, Dean.” He turned to the petite redhead sitting with a giant smirk on her face. “I’m assuming you’ve already started a plan?”
“Yes, but there’s one more thing.” Charlie pointed at Sam. “It was your idea.”
“In order to stay on as Dean’s manager, you will sign a different amendment. I’m going to start the official paperwork. Once you and Charlie come to a full and equal agreement for Dean’s coming out, it will be added to the contract, and both you and Dean will sign it.” Sam opened his suitcase back up and slid the defunct amendment into it. “We have an understanding, Fergus?”
“Yes.” Crowley nodded as he sat in his chair. “I think this is the first time I’ve been outwitted by a client.” He leaned back, resting his hands on his stomach. “Shall we begin, then?”
Thursday James took a deep breath as he took a final bow for the crowd that had come out to see him. While he was excited that his career was taking off, he had never expected how exhausting it would be. He stepped off the stage and into the wings, where he was greeted by his manager and best friend, Balthazar.
“Cassie! That was fantastic, as always!” Balthazar clapped his hand on Thursday’s - Cas’ - shoulder and led him back towards the dressing room. “You simply wowed the hall.”
“If you say so.” Cas slid off his mask, mindlessly playing with the fringe as Balthazar opened the door for him. He crossed over to his seat in front of the mirror and ran his hand down his face. “So. To what do I owe this pleasure? I wasn’t expecting you until St. Louis.”
“I am so very glad that you asked.” Balthazar crossed over to the sofa as Cas started his aftershow routine, beginning with the removal of his eye make-up. “Word of a fascinating tour came through the grapevine, and only a select handful of artists were invited.”
Cas perked up an eyebrow. “So, either I was invited, or you’re trying to get them to bring me along.”
“You were personally invited. By a Charlene Bradbury.” Cas’ head whipped up, and he stared at Balth’s reflection in the mirror. “I see you remember that name.”
“Charlie?” Cas frowned and turned around and stared at Balthazar, mouth agape. “Does she know?”
“Doubtful. Sia could learn a few lessons from you in hiding identity.” Balthazar leaned forward and clasped his hands together. His face turned serious. “Look, I understand the surprise, and I know I’m going to be fighting to get a yes out of you...”
“Damn right, you are! I’m not going on tour with Dean Winchester!”
“Let me finish, Cassie.” Balthazar tugged at his sleeves and fixed them before continuing. “Dean’s been a leader in the industry for 15 years. He’d be exposing you to fellow musicians, new venues, and possibly new members for your staff. Maybe you could steal Charlie out from under him?”
Cas shook his head. “Not happening, Balth. I can’t do it. He headlines arenas, he’s a damn star. I’m...” Cas choked on his own words, unable to finish the sentence. “You knew I would say no, why did you bring it up?”
“Well, for starters, it was 15 years ago. So why dwell on it? If you want him to know it’s you, you can show him that you outshone him in a matter of months.” Balthazar appeared to preen himself at those words. “But there’s an even bigger rumor involving the tour. Dean’s announcing something big.”
“He’s going to be the first country artist in space?” Cas deadpanned.
Balthazar let himself laugh at that. “I honestly don’t know. Charlie wouldn’t spill any beans. But, the rumor is that he’s going to retire.”
“Dean’s 36. Not happening.” Cas shook his head. “He’s got a lifetime ahead of him.”
“Okay, well the people who tour with him, get to find out first, and I am a nosy bastard, okay?”
“You’re a bastard, alright.” Cas picked up the mask he had worn for the evening and started fidgeting with the fringe. “And you’re not winning me over for this tour.”
“Fine. Rumor aside, here are the facts, from the devil herself. It’s a short 10 stop tour. All of the venues are 4000 people or less, either on college campuses or at smaller theaters.”
“That’s a huge step back for Dean.” Cas ran a hand through his hair and squinted at Balthazar. “I can see why retirement is a rumor associated with the tour.”
“That’s not all. The first stop?” Balthazar paused and bit his bottom lip. “Lied Center at KU.”
“Home?”
Dean looked up from his notepad as Charlie entered the studio in the home he shared with her and Sam. “What’s up, Red?”
“I got the final tour line up.” She held up a notepad of her own before crossing over to sit next to Dean. “Still writing?”
“He is.” Sam looked up from his desk. “And driving me crazy. Please get him to stop.”
“I changed my mind, Sam. I’m not writing a brand new song. I’m fixing an old one.” Dean turned to Charlie. “Hit me.”
“We’re going to go with four acts in total. First, a 20-minute set for your opener, a band coming out of hiatus, Tina & Her Pony. Second, We got Thursday James, which there’s a big caveat, but I got him.” She stole a glance at Sam, who was glaring at her.
“Sam’s going to kill you now, I’m okay with this. Continue.” Dean half-joked before gesturing for her to continue.
“Thursday is on for a 30-minute set. And, and, and! Brandi Carlile is on board, also for a 30-minute set assuming that yours is only 45. She’s got a hell of a negotiator on her team. Wonder if she’s single.”
“Brandi, or her negotiator?” Sam leaned forward on his desk, chin resting on his knuckles.
“Her negotiator. That wit. That charm. Ugh. So unfair.” Charlie let out a little sigh before shaking it off and looking at Dean. “So, did I do good?”
“You did fantastic.” Dean set down his pen and paper before pulling Charlie into a hug. “So, what’s the caveat with Thursday James?”
Charlie winced. “Shit, I was hoping you’d forget about that.” She flipped through her pad and pulled out two sheets of paper, handing one to Dean before getting up and taking the other to Sam. “It’s well known that Mr. James is private. I took the time to look up his previous riders. NDAs, no pictures unless he’s in a mask, pretty simple stuff. His agent - who’s name sounds so familiar - sent over his ‘standard rider’ and an amendment specific to this tour.”
“No guest appearances during his set, no requesting him to come on during another person’s set, and no requesting to hang out after shows.” Sam started to rattle off what he was reading. “What the hell?”
“I asked Meg, Brandi’s negotiator, to let me know if she got the amendment as well. I know that Tina & Her Pony didn’t get it as of yet, but Mr. James’ manager may not have sent it to them yet.” Charlie shrugged. “It is strange, but it’s not unheard of.”
“Well,” Dean shrugged, “if it gets him on tour with us, then I’m happy to do it.”
Sam nodded. “I mean, it’s not a bad request. I’ve heard Sia’s rider is insane. Like, you can’t even talk to her between sets.”
“Agoraphobia’s a thing, Sam. Lighten up.” Dean swallowed hard, a brief memory from his past flashing through his mind. “Charles, they okay being on a tour that’s literally called ‘The Thanks for Coming Out Tour,’ or do we have to change that?”
“I may not have mentioned that.” Charlie rubbed the back of her neck.
“WHAT!?” Dean and Sam cried out in unison.
Charlie held up her hands in defense. “Look, we don’t want Dean’s announcement blown before he gets to make it himself, right?” She waited until Dean nodded. “I’m going to get Sam to write up an NDA for the name, then Dean’s going to announce it with the tour dates on his website in a video.”
“So they don’t get to know the name of the tour until they sign the NDA, and if they don’t sign the NDA?” Sam questioned.
“Then, they can be replaced.” Charlie brushed it off. “But after speaking with Meg and Mr. James’ representative - why the fuck can’t I remember his name? - It sounds like they’re okay with it. I think they like knowing that they’ll be in on a rumor before the rest of the world.”
Dean stole a glance at his younger brother, who let out an exhausted sigh before speaking. “I’ll leave you to your magic, Charlie. You’ve never led us astray before. Just tell me what I need to write up and get out for you.”
“Cassie!” Balthazar closed the door shut behind him and held up a folder. “They accepted the terms of your rider with the NDAs and sent them over, signed. Charlie’s getting the rest of their crew to fill them out, and we should have them within 48 hours.” He flipped the folder open. “They responded with a note: ‘We fully honor the requests of Mr. James’ privacy rider. However, if he finds himself in need of someone to speak to, Dean and his crew will be available.’ How charming.”
“Shut up, Balth.” Cas kicked his feet up. “I’m assuming they sent the dates over?”
“Yes, and the rest of the lineup. Tina & Her Pony, you, Brandi Carlile, and Dean.” Balthazar pulled out a paper and handed it to Cas. “There’s also an NDA for you and I to sign. They don’t want the tour’s name to go public until Dean announces it, but they want to make sure we’re okay touring under it.”
Cas looked up from the paper. “I’m assuming you already signed for me?”
“Of course, Cassie.” Balthazar sat down and rested his ankle on his knee. “It adds weight to the retiring theory. ‘The Thanks for Coming Out Tour.’”
Cas chuckled. “One can only hope. I realized that the longer we’re in the industry together, the harder it will be to hide my identity from him.”
“There is that, yes.”
“You still think I should just tell him.” Cas crossed his arms over his chest and slouched down in his chair. “I can’t do that, Balth. I didn’t work my ass off for my career to spite him.”
“You can tell that to the people who don’t know you better, Cassie.”
“If I wanted to spite him, I’d be going by Castiel Novak, not Thursday James. I would show my face and not hide behind a mask. This has always been for me, Balth. I did this. For me.” Cas hung his head. “He wouldn’t care how hard I worked anyway.”
Balthazar pushed himself out of his seat and crossed to Cas before crouching down in front of him. “I can’t pretend to know what happened, Cassie. But when you two went your separate ways? I still believe a little piece of him died.”
“You’re right. You don’t know what happened. And as much as I love you? As much as I’m thankful every day that you’re my manager, my cousin, and my best friend? You do not and will not ever know.” Cas wiped a tear away. “I’m starting to think this was a mistake.”
“It’s not too late for us to back out. I’ve been informed that there are acts dying to fill the spots for this tour.” Balthazar rested a hand on Cas’ knee and squeezed gently. “If you want me to go cancel, I’ll do it in a heartbeat.”
Cas shook his head. “We’ve already signed a million and two pieces of paper, and put in the request to have the riders printed. I got through most of the autographed merch pile...” Cas looked at Balthazar. “As long as he honors the NDAs and riders, I can get through this. It’s ten stops. And if we’re lucky, he’s retiring.”
“Are you taking off the mask the day of or the day after he announces his retirement?” Balthazar smiled, clearly trying to get Cas to laugh. “We can throw a huge party announcing your real identity.”
“Well, if he announces it at KU like you think he is, then I have to wait for an additional nine more tour stops.” Cas attempted to return his cousin’s mirth. “But, I will say that I’ve gotten attached to the name Thursday James.”
“Then, we do an interview with the highest bidder to get an inside look at your life.” Balthazar stood up, his knees cracking. “Oh, bloody hell. When did I get so old?”
“Shut up, you’re only three years older.”
“Don’t waste those three precious years, my darling Cassie.” Balthazar gently patted Cas’ cheek. “Looking forward to losing the mask?”
Cas paused, thinking before nodding. “Once this tour is over, and Dean’s retired? I’ll lose the mask.”
Dean stared out the window as his tour bus pulled up behind the Lied Center. Two other buses were there, as was a small caravan of vans, and Dean made a mental note to offer to charter a bus for the tour’s opening act.
“Nervous?” Sam walked up next to him and looked out the window.
“I mean, when’s the last time we were home, Sammy?” Dean looked to his brother and tried to fight the nervous frown on his face. “The closest before was Topeka, and those Will-Call tickets were never picked up.”
Sam let out a sigh. “I meant about coming out tonight, but I guess that works too. You want Cas here, don’t you?” Dean nodded, and Sam continued. “It’s been almost twenty years, Dean. I know you’re still in love with him, but you need–”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Sam. Don’t you fucking dare.”
“I’m going to, but only because you need to hear this. You need to move on. I found out about your... something, with Cas because of that god damned song. You think you could have hidden that you’re gay from Charlie and me?”
“It’s my decision if I move on or not. And I don’t want to. I never have. And, to be honest, Charlie knew.” Dean turned in his seat. “And I wanted to tell you sooner, but...”
“But I was a loud-mouthed kid, and Dad would have killed you. I get it.” Sam sat across from Dean. “You gotta know, Dean. I have only ever wanted to see you happy.”
“Thank you, Sammy.” Dean looked over to the bus door, Sam’s head turned to look as well, as it opened.
Charlie walked up the stairs, her fingers in a peace sign. “What’s up, bitches?” She hip-checked Sam and sat down next to him as he slid over. “Dean?”
“It’s just weird being home.” He swallowed. “You get everything set up?”
“Of course I did, and before you ask, yes, I checked to make sure that a pair of tickets were held for a Castiel Novak at Will-Call.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a notebook and started going over it. “Benny and the boys want to know if you have the setlist finished.”
“Yeah.” He flipped up a piece of paper and slid it over to Charlie as he prepared for their pre-venue checklist.
“I know you can see it, Cassie.” Balthazar took a sip from a water bottle before handing one to Cas. “How are you holding up?”
“We’re back in Lawrence. I’m on tour with Dean, but it’s as a solo act.” Cas set the bottle down and looked up at Balthazar. “Balth, did I make the right choice, or was I too lenient in letting you twist my arm?”
“Well, that’s not fair. I’ve never made you do anything you don’t want to do.”
Cas ran his fingers through his hair. “I know. Even when it could have made us - how did you say it? - filthy fucking rich, you never forced me to do it.” He picked up the mask in front of him, an emerald green one with gold embroidery and fringe, and gently traced his fingers over the ornate pattern. “I’m making a huge fucking mistake.”
“Cassie. You have been having this fight with yourself for the past month while the tour dates got finalized. We are here.” Balthazar picked the bottle up and cracked it open before handing it back to Cas. “If you need alcohol, I’ll give you a couple of shots after your set, per your rider.”
“Can we break my rider for once?” Cas pinched the bridge of his nose before picking up the bottle and taking a sip. “So, what do you need?”
“Since we’re borrowing Dean’s band for the tour, their leader - a handsome, hopefully single, drummer named Benny - is asking for a finalized setlist. He also wants to do a test run of a song or two with you for the sound crew.”
Cas pushed himself out of his seat and went back to his bedroom. He grabbed a notebook off of the bed. He stole a quick look at the picture on his nightstand - a reminder from his life 17 years ago - before rejoining Balthazar. He handed the paper over and sat back down. “Small change from the usual list.”
“Cassie...” Balthazar looked up from the setlist.
“I don’t need your criticism right now. I made sure that the song was on the possible choice list for the tour.” Cas put on his mask.
Balthazar shook his head. “Not criticizing. Just worried about you.”
Dean was on edge as the concert started. He had paced his dressing room until Tina & Her Pony started the first song of their set. Per his request, Charlie had gotten their music on his phone, so he could listen to it, but hearing them live was much better. He calmed down and finally sat on the sofa, drinking the water Sam forced on him.
“You look like you’re going to faint.” Sam took the seat in front of the mirror and checked himself before turning around to face Dean. “You do your grounding technique?”
“Yes, Samantha.” Dean rested his forehead in his palms and stared at the ground. “They’re probably not going to answer at the box office, are they?”
“You’re not going to find out, Dean.” Charlie looked up from her phone. “I will unplug that phone if necessary.”
Dean harrumphed and slunk down further into his seat.
“Seriously, Dean. What’s finding out if he’s here going to do? If he didn’t come, you’re going to be mopey. If he did come, you’re going to be so nervous you can’t perform.” Sam pointed at him. “Go through your grounding again.”
“I’m fine.” Dean closed his eyes and focused on the current set piping through the speakers. He gave himself a silent reminder to provide Charlie with a raise for picking the duo for the tour’s opening act.
A few songs later, one of the members thanked the audience and told them to enjoy the rest of the show. Dean opened his eyes and looked up to the monitor, and watched as they waved and stepped offstage. The stage crew stepped in quickly and prepped for the next set. Dean sat up in surprise as he watched them roll a baby grand onto the stage, not remembering which of Thursday James’ songs required it.
“Charlie?” Dean smacked her shoulder and pointed to the monitor. “I don’t remember that on his list.”
“I have no idea.” Charlie sat up in her seat and leaned forward, aptly paying attention alongside Dean.
Cas was incredibly impressed and surprised by how easily his set had gone so far. He was humbled and honored by the sheer number of people who were cheering for him, and he used their energy to wash away his dread and apprehension.
“Ladies, Men, and Gentlethem.” He pulled the mic out of the stand and spoke into it as he walked over to the piano. “There’s a little something special I wanted to do for you all tonight.”
The crowd cheered, and Cas took the opportunity to inhale deeply as he put the mic into the stand clipped on the piano.
“I’m sorry to disappoint, but it’s not a new song, but a song that you all are familiar with. When I first wrote it, I had intended it as a piano ballad.” Cas sat down and adjusted the mic. “A few of you may have already noted it missing from the lineup, but it’s one that I’ll always sing until I can’t anymore.”
Cas ran his fingers over the keys in a brief allegro, stirring the crowd up even more. He took in another deep breath and closed his eyes before hitting the first chord of the song.
Catch ’em by surprise and Chasin’ the horizon Nothing holds me down Askin’, “Where the time’s gone?” Dreamin’ with the lights on Tryna keep your eyes on Something along the rise
You and I Bide our time And I miss summertime
Cas found himself surprised by the number of cheers as he played. While he was there to perform for the concert-goers, this was for him. This was to get him through the remainder of the tour.
Catch him on the run, they Punish those who love young Never right on time Watch each other fallin’ Always catch the call and Whistle while we’re walkin’ Something inside me dies
You and I Why, oh, why? And I miss summertime
Cas swayed in his seat, letting the piano run through him. He fought back the tears that threatened to spill.
Keep on rockin’, baby Keep on risin’ on the tide Son of a gun and maybe We’ll be ridin’ all night Something inside me dies You and I, You and I Bide our time. And I, I miss summertime
You and I Why, oh, why? And I miss summertime
Cas hit the final chord of the song, and the venue exploded. He stared at the keys for a few moments, letting the tears fall softly before nodding. “Thank you, everyone. Enjoy the rest of the concert. Up in just a few minutes will be the amazing Brandi Carlile!”
He stood up and waved before quickly walking offstage. Balthazar led him to his dressing room. Once the door was shut, Balthazar pulled Cas into his arms and hugged him tightly. “I am so sorry, Cassie. I never realized it.”
“Realized what?” Cas sniffled.
“You two. You and Dean? You were together.”
Cas swallowed and looked up at Balthazar. At a loss for words, there was only one thing he could do. He broke down and sobbed into his cousin’s arms.
��
Dean was still shaking from Thursday’s set when he was given his five-minute warning. Brandi was terrific, and he looked forward to hanging out with her after the show, but the way that Thursday sang, the smooth whiskey sound, the profound heartbreak... Dean knew there was more there. Something was entirely familiar to him, and it was driving him crazy that he couldn’t put his finger on it.
Dean walked out to the stage, waiting in the wings for Benny to start their opening number with the rest of the band. He tried to shake himself loose, rolling his neck and stretching out when Charlie walked up to him.
“You’re working yourself up, Dean.”
“Yeah, and I’m about to come out to a sold-out auditorium, which is probably going to go viral. Forgive me if I’m nervous that I’m going to kill my career tonight.” Dean pulled his arm in front of his chest, stretching out his shoulder, before switching to the other.
“And you’re so full of shit.” Charlie looked out to the stage as Benny counted the band out. “Break a leg, Dean.” She stood up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek before stepping back further into the wing.
Dean shook himself out one more time, putting on a great big smile and ran out on stage, waving to the crowd. “Good Evening, Lawrence!”
The crowd roared, and Dean broke into his first song. Their energy was contagious, and it took all of Dean’s power to not come out right then and there. He wanted to ride the high and get it over with. But people came out on an excellent show, and he was going to give it to them. And it was all he could hope that they would still be fans when all was said and done.
After the eighth song in his set, yes, he’d been counting, Dean smiled at the crowd and winked. “I think it’s that time, huh?” He took his guitar that he had acquired during the second song off, and walked it to a stand. He picked up his acoustic guitar and grabbed a stool before setting back up in front of the mic.
“First and foremost, I want to thank y’all for coming out tonight.” Dean sat on the stool and pulled the guitar strap over his head. “I’m not sure if y’all know, but Lawrence is actually my hometown.” Cheers and whistles rifled through the crowd. “I was born and raised here, stayed until I was 19 years old. Ran off to Nashville, found a manager who thought I was decent, and here I am. Blessed by fans like y’all.
“And I mean it when I say I’m truly honored to have so many wonderful fans. But there’s something that’s been eating me up inside for a long time, and I need to be honest with y’all.” Dean strummed absentmindedly on his guitar, his fingers starting the beginning notes from memory. “Eleven years ago, my second album came out, and on it is a song that means so much to me.
But my manager, even though I’m not which one more, was concerned for my career and my safety. He refused to let me include it on the album unless I changed the pronouns.” Dean bristled at the hushed whispers going through the crowd. “While that song turned out to be one of my most significant hits, I’ve never forgiven myself for letting that change be forced onto it.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m gay. And Cas, if you’re out there. Anywhere. This has always been your song, sunshine.”
Cas fell off of the sofa.
The room spun around, and Balthazar joined him in a heartbeat as he stared up at the screen. His mind was racing a mile a minute as he thought through Dean’s discography.
I thought I knew the boy so well If he was sad, I couldn’t tell I missed the point I missed the signs So if he’s gone the fault is mine I know, I know a whole lot little things And even though I could list them one by one Oh, he would still be gone
Cas sucked in sharply. He knew this song. He knew it better than he would ever care to admit. He had often dreamt about it being for him.
His eyes are blue His hair was long In ’84 he was born In Baton Rouge His favorite song is “In My Life” I memorized his every move I knew his books, his car, his clothes But I paid no attention to what mattered most
Cas pushed himself up to his feet, relying on Balthazar’s shoulder for support. His eyes were locked on the screen, feet unable to move.
I never asked he never said And when he cried, I turned my head He dreamed his dreams behind closed doors That made them easy to ignore I know, I know I missed the forest for the trees All I have to show Oh, when he walked out the door The cold facts and nothing more
His eyes are blue His hair was long In ’84 he was born In Baton Rouge His favorite song is “In My Life” I memorized his every move I knew his books, his car, his clothes But I paid no attention to what mattered most
Cas started to the door, ignoring Balthazar calling after him. He ran out the door, making it to the stage as Dean began the final refrain.
His eyes are blue His hair was long In ’84 he was born In Baton Rouge His father’s tall His mother’s gone He moved out west when he was two The way he laughed The way he loved Oh my god, what did I do?
He dreamed his dreams behind closed doors I never asked he never said
Cas looked out to the crowd as Dean got a standing ovation. He wanted Dean to have this moment, to know that the audience would still love him, regardless of orientation. But Cas also wanted to know if Dean still loved him. He needed to know.
He started to walk out on stage when a hand wrapped around his arm and pulled him back. “Holy shit. Cas? You? You’re here?” Charlie looked him up and down. “Oh my god. Thursday James. Castiel James Novak.”
“Please, Charlie. Can I?”
“You have a lot of explaining to do, but you both do.” She turned him around and pushed him gently. “Go get him, and make him whole again. Please.”
Dean gave a final wave to the crowd before turning to walk off of the stage. He looked up from his boots, and his eyes met the bluest eyes he’d ever seen, and he’d never forget. Dean’s knees went weak and out from under him, and he grabbed the stool he’d just been sitting on. “Cas?”
An electric buzz shot through the crowd as the realization settled over the venue. Cas looked out to the audience, then took a few steps closer. Dean pushed himself to his knees, staring in awe.
“Hello, Dean.”
Dean looked Cas up and down when everything clicked. “Thursday... Castiel. Fuck. How did I...?”
Cas finished closing the distance between them and held his hand down. Dean took it and allowed Cas to help pull him to his feet. Once standing, Dean hesitantly reached forward, his hand faintly touching Cas’ cheek. Cas took Dean’s hand and pressed it against his cheek, and Dean felt the first sob wreck through his body.
“That song has always been for me?” Cas whispered, and Dean nodded, unable to find his words out of shock. “You never stopped?”
“Loving you?” Dean shook his head. “Never. It has always been you, Cas. I knew what I lost, and I couldn’t move on. I won’t ever move on from you.”
Cas leaned in and pressed his lips softly against Dean’s, and Dean felt Cas’ mouth break into a smile as cheers erupted from the crowd. “Am I dreaming, Dean?”
“God, I hope not, Cas.” Dean brought his other hand up, holding Cas’ face as he rested their foreheads together. “I have missed you, so much, Cas.”
“You don’t have to anymore, Dean.” Cas kissed Dean again, reclaiming his lost love for himself and no longer dreaming behind closed doors.
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keishins-ukai · 4 years ago
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I’m At Ease When I’m With You
A Bruabba slowdancing in the kitchen fic because I finished part five and I’m sad. here’s a link if you prefer ao3
Not that he had many hobbies, but dancing was one that Leone was sure he’d never understand the appeal of. It was exercise, sure, but it serves no purpose outside of that and Leone liked to use his time efficiently. Running, hurdling, hell even archery made more sense to him than dancing. At least archery made your aim more precise while also improving your arm strength. Not to mention that none of the music he listens to really has a ‘catchy beat’ that you can dance to, and he doesn’t want to listen to music that’s at the top of the charts.
But all of this goes out of the window when he’s asked to dance by Bruno Bucciarati. Bruno didn’t ask to dance often, finding that he simply didn’t have the time for it or that if he tried to ask his vocal cords would seize up and refuse to work. The latter would happen anytime he knew the rest of his crew was around, especially Narancia. It’s not that he didn’t trust his crew, or that they would think any different of the two, but it was that as the aspiring boss of the literal mafia, he couldn’t really been seen to be soft in any way.
He especially wanted to keep Abbacchio away from unnecessary harm, hiding their relationship from everyone but the crew, though that still concerned him. He loved his friends more than he loved himself, but he couldn’t help but worry his boisterous and intense teammates would say something in the wrong place, say something too loud.
However, the aspiring capo found that he wanted to think about literally anything else when he rested his head on the elder’s shoulder, left hand entwined in his right and an arm around his waist. Bruno enjoyed feeling this close to someone, feeling safe and loved unconditionally in someone’s embrace, especially when the warmth he felt was from Leone Abbacchio. Bruno had fallen for him the first day he’d joined the team. The dry, snarky tone with which he would deliver most of his lines, the way his lit up when he spoke about his interests, the way Bruno could tell his heart was still golden.
There was never a specific song that played when they would dance, but Bruno would always put on classical music, knowing that it calmed Leone. Despite his goth aesthetic, dark fashion choices and standoffish personality, the music that played through Leone’s headphones constantly was Mozart, it was Beethoven, it was anything with a beautiful meandering melody on top of a steady beat. He had always found that having background noise increased his concentration, especially in his studies.
Now he didn’t have anything to revise for, he found that it was a good reminder of why he was here, why he agreed to join this gang, it wasn’t because he enjoyed gratuitous violence or confrontation even though that’s what he saw in other branches of the organisation. He’d joined because he saw Bruno, he’d understood what he wanted to do, how they’d still be able to make Rome safer. If Bruno had approached even a single month earlier, Leone was sure he’d have laughed him off, maybe even try to arrest him, but he could see the institution for what it was now.
Even though he’d done everything right, he’d come at the top of his class before joining the police force, he’d cared for the people he’d tried to protect, but because of one impossible situation that had all been lost in an instant. Even if he’d convicted them, the woman would have likely returned to the streets once she was let out, because people with jobs like hers aren’t born from want they’re born from necessity, and being fined or even imprisoned would only put her in a worse position.
How is that protection?
At least while working with the organisation he can be sure that the people they harm deserve it, and the people that need help will be being risen up. He knows that all of this is being done for a fee, but that doesn’t detract from the feeling that he was doing more good here than he could ever do on the force.
It was a bonus when he’d fallen in love with Bucciarati, love always being a second thought to himself, but when he’d realised what Bruno had intended to do with the gang, what he had hoped to achieve if he ever became the boss… well Leone was helpless, he had no choice but to fall for him. In the couple of months they had worked as a duo they had grown close, discussing anything and everything, from the existence of aliens to the best 80’s punk band. They hadn’t officially started their relationship until Narancia had joined the team, joking to each other that they were the dads of the group and these two were their unruly children.
All that being said, there was one place that they could be together, away from everyone and their responsibilities if only for a night. Bruno had bought the rights to his childhood home a year ago when the house had been put on the market, the current owners having believed it was haunted when they’d learned the truth about why the old owners.
The ex-cop had been making them both a when the younger had come up to him and taken his hand, wrapping an arm around his waist and started to sway. Leone had only been gone from the bedroom for two minutes and Bruno had already managed to change from his work clothes into one of his partners oversized band shirts and a pair of shorts. It was impressive how quickly Bruno could go from trauma hardened mafioso to a touch starved twenty-year-old
Using the hand around his waist to stroke his lower back, Leone asks “what’s wrong, Zip?” the nickname had started as a joke, something that was supposed to annoy Bruno, but instead he had laughed and moved on, causing the nickname to stick. Later Bruno would explain that it sent his heart crazy to hear a nickname based on a very intimate and often hidden part of himself come from the man person he adored.
“I know you don’t like being here” the younger explains, hand bunching up in the back of Abbacchio’s shirt ��thank you think of my childhood and want to make things different for me…”
Knowing that at least some of that was projection but also knowing that calling him out on it would upset his boyfriend Leone simply says “The only time I’m ever at ease is when I’m with you, Bucciarati”. Leone looks down to the top of his head, his face still buried into the elder’s neck. In spite of the smile on his face, Abbacchio asks “Are you satisfied?”
Even though the goth couldn’t see what he was doing Bruno rolled his eyes and said “Just five more minutes”, enjoying the groan that came from his partner
It was entirely fake, of course. Leone enjoyed the closeness he got to feel with his boyfriend in these moments “This is killing me”. As though trying to prove his contradictory thoughts, his hand moves into Bruno’s hair
This actually made the younger laugh, unconsciously pressing back into his touch “You, Leone Abbacchio, are a terrible liar and for that make it seven minutes”
The small smile that Leone had been wearing almost tripled in size from Bruno’s laugh alone “It makes me feel emasculated?” he tries, more out of stubbornness than from a real desire to stop dancing.
Bruno moves his head from its resting place to look to Leone, the hums as he pretends to think “You’re wearing purple lipstick”
There was a slight blush on the elder’s cheeks, not that either was ready to admit that “Yeah, cause it looks fucking good on me”
“I know, mi amore” Bruno agrees, leaning up to press his lips against the love of his life’s. Once he pulled back he rubs his lips together to spread the lipstick more evenly “how does it look on me?”
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goshwrites · 5 years ago
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business (yandere x reader) 1
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warnings: swearing, ageplaying, obsession, unhealthy relationships
word count: 2.9 
A/N: still not completely my best writing oof but here we go
taglist: (none as of yet since i’m keeping the taglist for the ben solo blurb separate from this one)
  You know how like in some novels things happen right away one after another? Like the very next day or something?  Well that didn't happen with you.  The day after the whole fiasco with Romeo and Juliette... things were pretty chill. Boss of course seemed just a little agitated, but that was normal in your opinion since well... she always had a resting bitch face. Always. And then it was two days after it.  Still nothing. You somehow got hit in the head with a paper ball that was thrown so badly it flew over the small wall that separated the cubicles instead of the trashcan. Yeah. That person's aim was horrible, but eh. They offered you chocolate once so you were cool.  Three days after everything still was kind of cool. Someone's phone kept buzzing the Backstreet Boy's song I Want It That Way and of course any reasonable person would sing along with it which of course was you.  Then four- well that was Saturday. And that was your glorious dayoff of going to the store and getting facial masks.  And fifth was Sunday and with that you mostly chilled while working on editing your paper.  Six was... Monday to say the least.  No comment.  And then what do you know? A whole week went by the incident and it seemed that no one even remembered or cared or just... were even awake to see it.    Tuesday started out kind of nice. You didn't do that annoying thing of where you wake up like ten minutes before your alarm and then you try to go back to sleep because hey it's way too early but then you can't because anxiety and you spent like seven minutes inwardly arguing with your anxiety and before you know it- it's time to get up.  But that didn't happen. That happened on Monday, yes, but Tuesday? Nah you woke up to the beautiful bliss of birds using their vocal cords and like some violins playing in the background. Over all it was nice.  And you got a cheese bagel at your nearby bagel shop because they're everywhere.    You greeted the security man that stood by the door with a 'good morning' on your way into the large building that also housed other companies like some kind of shoe company and like maybe one of Jojo's bowties? You really didn't know and didn't really wanna know. You walked out of the elevator of the floor you were on and proceeded to make your way to your cubicle. You sat down with the rolling chair moving backwards a tad before you reached out and got out your laptop from the beach bag. You were just typing in the password and going to your documents when you heard a soft, "Good morning," from your left and you look over to the opening to see Ben standing there. A small grin came onto your face at seeing the dark skinned male.  "It is this time." You mused while thinking back on your grumpy mood yesterday. He chuckled while flashing that pearly white grin of his.  "And am I not glad for that?"  "Oh shut up." You said playfully towards the male as you brought up your latest project on your computer.  He just chuckled and shook his head as if he just knew that you wouldn't pull through on your threat. And well he was right.  "Uh huh. Anyways since you're in a better mood, I was thinking we could like go out for lunch?" He suggested with a shrug as you looked back up at him. He always liked to wear bright colors since he could always pull them off so well, so today he was wearing a neon yellow t-shirt and washed-out jeans. You weren't really wearing anything special. Just blue jeans, (f/c) shirt, and some converse so eh. Nothing special or extraordinary. Just the way you liked it.  But somehow Ben always looked nice in everything he wore.  You decided to just shove your writing abilities to the back of your mind as you pretended to think about it.  "Hmmmm. I don't know. I don't really know if I like you or not." You said while stroking your chin as if there was a beard there. He chuckled and shook his head.  "Awww. Come on, (N/n). I know you do and you know you love me." He practically whined to you with a childish pout making you giggle.  "Of course I love you. You're one of the few people that are tolerable here." You told him with a grin and a shake of my head.  'You know you love me' was that one inside joke between the two of you. Whenever one just wasn't budging on something for whatever reason the other would always play that card. And usually it worked.  He was probably about to say something about being offended by that statement, but your little bicker was irrupted.  "(L/n)! My office!" You heard your last name being called out causing you to sit up right in your chair. And there standing at her office was Boss. Now Boss... was an interesting woman. One, she was born and raised in Liberia until her family moved here causing her to have a very strong accent. Two, she was very... well... blunt. She was like the Simon Cowell or Gordon Ramsey of writing. And three, even though her natural hair was black, she had dyed it a sort of burgundy red that stuck out like on a traffic light.  But you've never been called to her office before. Not unless it was for another project. But... you were working on a project. So why did she call you?    You forced yourself to rise from the rolling chair before you took in a deep breath. Just... don't jump around conclusions. You and Ben shared a look of mutual look of worry and confusion before you forced yourself to walk out and into the hallway. Others had already stopped typing to give you the look of 'uh oh' as you walked. Honestly you felt like you were going to your own funeral at these somber looks. But alas you reached the glass down of Boss's office. It was that type of office from Superman of where the walls were glass. You had to admit, you liked it.  But at the moment you kinda wished the walls were concrete so no one could see you get fired. Wait.  Fired? Now that started the anxiety ball rolling.  But before you could turn away and maybe act like you were too sick to come to her office, she saw you and simply waved you in. Those glass walls. Traitors.   You took in a deep breath and entered into the carpeted office room. Besides being all fancy with her name on the door in a sort of Instagram font, Boss had a reddish, dark brown wooden desk with four small drawers on each side at the top, and two large drawers at the bottom. The desk was definitely an expensive one since the handles for the drawers had designs on them. Overall Boss just causally flexed with the desk.  And the carpet was like really comfy too as you shifted on it sort of nervously. Boss just looked at you before she picked up a Rubik Cube and just twirled it in her hand. She looked down at the multiple colors as she mixed the cube up.  And finally easing the growing of your anxiety- she spoke.  "Sit down, (L/n)." Obediently you sat down in the brown, leather chair that actually fit very well with the desk. She waited a few moments as if she was waiting to see if you were comfortable before she spoke again. "Do you remember what happened last week?" What? What happened? What week? Last week?  What happened last week?  You had no fucking idea.  But were you gonna admit that? Hell no.  "Yes, I do." You told her with a nod to make it seem like you weren't an idiot.  "Well, today... I got the phone call from Stevie saying that she and Issac have gone back to his home town to get married."  Wait... who? Then... ohhh yeeaaaah.  Last week... those two. Right.  "Wow. They didn't waste any time, huh?" You said while acting like you had an excellent memory of all things at all time. Yup.  No dummy here.  But that kinda brought up a question... why was she telling you this?  "No, they did not." She said with a shake of her head before she leaned forward in her seat. "But.. I'm sure you're wondering why I am telling you this." You nodded at her words and she took this as a cue to continue. "Well... I assigned Stevie to an assignment that I thought that she was ready for, but now that she's getting married... well... I will need someone else for it."  Huh. Why was she telling you this?  Then... wait... oh. Oh.  "You... want me for the assignment?" You asked as you couldn't hide the surprise that leaked into your voice.  Huh. So obviously you weren't the first choice, but at least you were the second. Better than none, right?  "If you will take it." Boss responded with a shrug as she looked down at the Rubik Cube while simultaneously solving it and speaking. Woah.  "Well I mean uh- I would love too, Boss. But..." You briefly trailed off as you shifted in the leather seat.  "Just what is the assignment?"  "It's actually an interview." An interview? Now... that is something you did not have that much experience on. Who would you be interviewing? Harry Styles?  Oh now that would be great. (But sadly this isn't a 1D fanfic) "Well uh... I don't really have that much experience with like journalism and like interviews." You awkwardly confessed as you scratched your head. "But... who is it?"  Boss paused as she stopped almost... completing the Rubik Cube. What. How did she that so fast? But your confessed and amazed eyes moved back up to Boss whenever she answered your question with, "Edward Gimmens." Then... wait.  Edward Gimmens… as in... that really rich guy?  That Edward Gimmens? You just stared at your Boss in amazement as she finished the Rubik Cube. But you weren't amazed by her skill- okay yes you were actually- but more with the fact as... "How... did you get an interview slot with him?"  As far as you knew the philanthropist, billionaire, and whatever he had on his resume didn't do interviews for magazines that centered around Millenniums and Gen-Zs. He did it for those really big and out there magazines, you know?  "Well, believe it or not, he came to us. But that is not important. You'll have to come up with your questions and such, but you can use Stevie's notes." She said as she set the cube down and pulled out a folder out from her desk.  You blinked a few times at her rapid explanation as just.. woah. "But of course that's if you are taking the job."  That... was the million dollar question, wasn't it? Or the billion in this case. Ha, ha, ha.  "I... well... I... what makes you think I can do this?" You found the words coming out of your mouth before you could stop them. Uh- uh- uh- "Of course I am grateful you offered it to me, but umm... why?" You quickly added as to not seem rude.  "Well... Stevie was my first choice since she's done work like this before." Boss began with a shrug as she leaned back against the chair. "But when she had to go... well... you just popped into my head as the next capable person to do this."  You? Capable? You still got anxiety with ordering your own meal. "You... think I can do this?" You asked hesitantly and in an unsure way as your (e/c) eyes met Boss's. She smiled just a tad before she leaned forward.  "(L/n)… I see potential in you. You're a good writer and you know how to set a pace right in whatever you write. You're just... how do I put this? Not confident in your abilities. So... I'm giving you the old... shove-you-out-of-the-airplane thing."  That... did not sound ideal. Not at all. But still you slowly nodded your head.  "All right. Thanks, Boss, I'm honored you think so highly of me, but umm... can I have some time to think about it?"  "Ah yes. Of course, of course. Take as much time as you need." She said while waving her hand in the air and with her accent sort of slurring her words together making the 'course' sound like 'close.'  "But just not too much time. This does need to be written, you know."  You nodded before you stood up from the comfy chair.  "I'll... let you know by Friday." You decided on that day while your anxiety told you in one ear that you won't be able to decide by then and your self worth was whispering how she would find someone else in that time period. Fun times.  "That is good, (L/n). I'll be awaiting for your answer." She said with a nod as she stood up as well. You couldn't help, but slightly smile at the way she worded things. "And ah! Just in case you do decide to take the job, here is the notes Stevie had." She said while picking up the folder she had brought onto her desk previously. She handed it to you and you took it from her dark and freckled hands.  "Just read it over and see what you think."  "I will Boss. Thanks." 
  With one final goodbye and wave to Boss, you exited out of the office and back down the hall to your cubicle.
So... you weren't getting fired? You actually kind of got promoted in a way? I mean, if you did this interview right... others would be put on your desk. 
But this was Edward Gimmens, the CEO of Gimmens Incorporated. This was a man who's spent nearly three decades in making his name known in whatever way.
He was a well known and looked up to man in whatever he did. Whether it be taking mankind steps closer to having flying cars or what he was most known for, and you found it a little humorous, cosmetics. 
Yes that's right.
The philanthropist, inventor, and very rich guy was famous for his makeup. Somehow he had figured out a way to have any foundation or concealer or blush fit exactly to your skin tone. Instead of having to make a formula for each different skin tone, he was somehow able to make one for all. Needless to say, the product instantly became a favorite around the world. Even you had tried it once, and contrary to what you expected, it somehow blended perfectly. 
He was like the Willy Wonka of makeup. And you were suppose to interview him. 
  You sat back down on your rolling chair with a huff. But should you take it? It was a great- like really great- opportunity for you and the magazine. Of course Boss can always get somebody else, but still. 
It was great and big and perfect, but... also stressing. You were going to have to come up with questions... but Stevie did leave behind notes for you. And thinking of the notes- you had the folder. 
You set it on your desk before you opened it up to see the Instagram font that was Stevie's handwriting. 
Man. You'd probably kill someone for being able to write that elegantly.
You read over what she had so far in her notes and you had to admit that she had some pretty good ideas of what she wants to ask. You bit your lip and decided to close the folder for now. 
Hmm. Maybe... just maybe, this won't be so bad.
But of course- you needed another person's opinion on this. 
"Hey, Ben?" You decided to speak up over the clicking keyboards to your cubicle mate. 
"Yeah?" Came his one worded reply.
"I would love to go to lunch with you."
And even though you couldn't see it, you knew he was smiling.
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queensdivas · 5 years ago
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Hidden Blade Chap 4
(I know it’s not good. Like I wanted to do a few things but I’m working on group projects, papers, a temino, For God's Sake, trying to bring a certain Fic back to life. As you can tell I’m on the struggle bus at the moment. I promise the next chapter will be better because it’s the big heist! JUST KEEP THE FAITH MY FRIENDS KEEP THE FAITH!!!)
Next chapter
Previous Chapter 
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For starters I did take Anya to a big cat sanctuary which since I brought her back, I might have persuaded them to let me come visit her every once in a while for some play time. They’re keeping her name which makes me even more happy and hopefully she’ll be absolutely okay there. 
But today we’re heading for Hong Kong! I’ve yet to make it over to China or that far east so I’m a little excited. Plus I’ve been working on a little something that should help four and I when we’re being monkeys across the tower. If I can get it done about the time we make it to Hong Kong. If not I get to be my own guinea pig for the experiment. 
I swung my bag over my shoulder along with my small duffle bag that had all my equipment for this long flight. The other bag is clothing, personal weapons, and some snacks for the flight. Four and I stocked up on some snacks from seven eleven when we left the hotel so we’re set on chips, a bag of sunflower seeds, and a bunch of Palmer Iced Tea and Lemonade cans. 
“Aye. You got my cheez-its?” Four asked as I stepped out of the trailer then reaching over on the desk to grab the box. 
“Yes! It’s about a 13 hour flight and I know they don’t have anything like this.” He told me as I scratched the top of Wallys head for a few seconds till he laid down in the doorway. 
“You’ve been to Hong Kong?” I asked him as we began walking towards the parked jet. 
“Oh yeah. You know their food is already good. Except the cat, I find it way too thin.” I nodded as we joined the rest of the group. One was ahead of everyone as seven was yelling out to him or something. 
“Hey one! You ever plan on calling me six?” Seven yelled as everyone just kind of chuckled. 
“No!” He yelled back as seven shrugged. 
“Okay.” We continued to walk as Seven kept looking around at us expecting like us to do something. Like I know I’m new to the fucked up A-Team, but I get the feeling that we just don’t speak about identities or anything dealing with One's depressing boo hoo past. 
“Hey look I know we don’t get to ask..?” Why the hell is he so damn nosy? 
“Then don’t.” Three told him but I could tell he still wanted to pester about one. 
“But uh...who is one?” He’s so damn nosy! Like oh my god he just won’t stop pushing buttons for answers. 
“A rich guy who snapped. That’s all I got.” Five told him as I slightly nodded. The man has a fucking Chopard. Y’all have any idea how expensive their stuff is cause I sure don’t! Just imagine having that option to buy whatever the hell you want because you did something with magnets or something sciency. 
“Yeah but how did you meet him?” Seven knows how I met him so I’m assuming he’s waiting for the rest of them. 
“We didn’t. He met us. In really weird ways.” After hearing Fours story of how they met. I will say I am kind of curious on how everyone else met him. Sounds like mine and sevens we’re the only normal interactions. 
“Oh yeah. Very very weird. Like basically perfect timing kind of weird.” When you kind of look at it, yes in very weird ways. Not as weird as what Four told me on how they met. Four began telling his story again as three began walking along side me.
“So being an assassin. Do you have any cool gadgets you keep on you? Like a pen that turns into some type of dart?” He asked as I raised my eyebrow at him. 
“Do I look like James Bond or some sort of cheap spy?” We continued to walk as I showed him a piece of paper that had my project. 
“Working on a mini zipline for short distance kind sort of thing. It would be wrapped around my right arm. Just something experimental.” He was ecstatic as he kept looking at it. 
“So you’d turn into like batman.” Batman has money and Fox to build his things. I have online links and How to Do anything for dummies.
“If that makes sense to you then yes.” Four finished his story as Seven was chuckling. 
“Ooh. I never thought I’d meet a family more screwed up than mine.” Seven shook his head along with three. 
“Hey, no. Don’t say that. He hates the word “family”. I don’t know.” I’m really hoping that I win my money and some back on this bet. 
“And if you’re ever left behind in a mission, he’s not coming back for you.” Hold the fuck up what? Wait what? I’m technically dead to the internet? What am I supposed to do if for some reason I get left behind? Eh. Do what I did before but not care as much if anything. 
“What?” Seven was just having a field day with all this new information oh my god. Just gonna let this roll. 
“We Deltas don’t operate like that. Things are gonna have to change I promise you that.” Okay. That’s what happens when you bring a military man into any form of combat I guess. Let’s all gather around the campfire and sing our Girl Scout songs while talking about our feelings. Genius seven! 
One opened the plane door as seven caught up with them since apparently they’re flying the plane. Definitely going to say a quick prayer so that we don’t die! I climbed in after three to see there was a table for my work. I tossed my bags into the empty set next to me as I climbed over to the window seat. Four sat directly across from me as I put on my seatbelt.  
“Can you pass me a Palmer?” I pulled it out of the bag then slid it across the table. 
“Thank you.” He opened it as the plane engine turned on. I think a few hours of crossword puzzle should hopefully kill sometime. I don’t feel like working on my project and watching some sort of movie would just make the ride longer. I reached into my bag for one of my books and pen to get started. Four raised his eyebrow as I looked up from my book. 
“What?” I asked as he took a drink of his palmer. 
“You have any extra ones by chance?” Is that even a question! Of course I have extra ones! I reached into my bag to slide one of my books across the table along with an extra pen. 
Alright alright! I began skimming through then finding the one I was working on before. A four letter word for short smokes? Hmmmm. Cigs! C-I-G-S AHA! Alright so that covers the first letters for 54, 55, 56! 
“Is that a crossword puzzle?” Two looked over me as I looked straight up to her. 
“Would you like one?” I asked as she looked over to my bag as I reached for a spare pen and book. Then I grabbed one for three and five. Guess we’re all doing crossword puzzles for thirteen hours. I’m down. 
About three hours into the flight and we’ve all been asking each other for help on our own puzzles. Four and I were sitting next to each other because he is stuck on a three letter work for Peace, to Putin. I’m still trying to figure out what on earth it even means. I wasn’t alive during Putin so I have absolutely no idea. 
“What does that mean?” We had our online dictionaries out trying to skim through three letter words that started with the letter M. 
“What’s the phrase?” Two’s head popped up again from behind the seat. 
“Peace, to Putin.” Four told her as she thought for a moment. 
“Mir.” She sat back down in her seat as it fit perfectly. 
“Thanks Two!” We said at the same time as I went back to my puzzle. 
“What the hell are you guys doing?” One’s head popped out of the cockpit as all five of us stared him down.
“Crossword puzzle. Want one?” I held up a puzzle and a pen up to him. He grabbed two books and two pens then back into the cockpit. Knew he couldn’t resist a great time of crossword puzzles. 
I finished one and I’m about halfway done with this one. Next one. Blood letters? What’s a three letter word for Blood letters? I began tapping my pen on my forehead trying to figure out what on earth that means. Blood Letters? 
“Blood letters.” I said it out loud as he looked over to see that it was only three letters. 
“ABO.” ABO? OOOHHH! BLOOD TYPES! A! B! O! Oh my gosh I’m an idiot! 
“Who knows geography well?” Three asked as we all turned our heads towards his seat. 
“What is it?” Five asked as he read the question. 
“Loch on the border of the Highlands?” I’ve only been to the UK once and I partied very hard in Southampton in all honesty. 
“Four. You’re from England right?” Three asked as Four was trying to remember his geography. 
“Is it Guillemot?” He asked as I shrugged my shoulders. 
“LOMOND!” Four yelled as three wrote it down. We high fived each other 
“Thanks Four.” Three thanked as I took a sip of my palmer. A very big yawn came out of me as I put my book down. Maybe a quick nap should hopefully make my brain starts working again. I tucked my head into the corner of the seat as I began to fall asleep. 
“OW!” I snapped awake as Three was yelling from his seat. That was two minutes of a nap that I thought would last till we landed. I looked over my seat to see him patching up his finger. I slid back down into my seat trying to get comfy again with my head resting against the left of the head rest.  
JUST LET ME SLEEP!
“Hey guys.” Seven’s voice appeared on the com. 
“What’s an eight letter word for unlaces?” Seven asked as everyone stopped working on their puzzles. 
“Unbuckle?” Five told him as he was silent for a minute. 
“Thank you.” The com turned off as I shut the blind for the window then tried to fall asleep again. 
*Fours P.O.V.* 
Her head slid down and onto the edge of my shoulder as I finished one of the words. Her mouth was slightly opened as she was adjusting herself on my shoulder. A nap does sound nice I’ll admit. Not sure on what the rules are for napping with a teammate but I’m just gonna take the heat from it. 
I rested my head on top of hers as the plane went silent because I’m assuming everyone else was beginning to take their naps. She wrapped her thin jacket around her a little tighter trying to get a little warmer. Guess it is a little chilly in here for us in here. I’d give her my coat but I don’t wanna wake her up. Body heat is a thing right?
The only sound being heard on the entire plane was the sound of the engine since everyone was dead asleep. Her hair smelled like fresh mint which was a little different then what I expected her hair to smell like. Not to mention her hair was actually really pretty, it’s like a red chestnut color and definitely smells nice like I said before. 
“PST Four!” Five asked across the seat as I looked over. 
“Yes?” She leaned over to point at her puzzle.
“Dr. Seuss’ yertle, for one.” She told me as I counted the six letter word. Never had Dr. Seuss growing up so I’ve got no idea. Two has basically been our dictionary throughout this entire thing. 
“Ask Two. I’ve got no idea.” She nodded as she got up from her seat as I noticed Eight was leaning on the other side, with her head resting on the window. Oh well. Probably for the best anyhow. 
I got up from her side of the table to slide back into mine as I took another sip of my palmer then made my jacket into a pillow. We’ve got about ten more hours to hopefully I can just sleep right through this. 
~~
“Hey team were below the radar. So buckle up cause it’s about to get bumpy.” Seven announced as I began waking up a little bit. Five more minutes please! 
“You know, I usually look at the stewardess to see if I should be scared.” Does he realize that a plane being brought down by turbulence is super rare? 
“Flight attendant. You can look at me.” Two told him as I tried to get myself to fall back asleep. Did they hook up in Vegas? 
“Oh darling, you could be on fire, and you would still have that same creepy, blank expression on your face. No offense.” Oh they so hooked up in Vegas, the sexual tension between them is so thick that a warm butter knife could cut it. Wait I’m trying to sleep! Ah screw it three’s gonna run his mouth till we land so what’s the point of trying to sleep. 
My left eye opened just a tiny bit to see her still working on her zipline thingy and looked really cute. Like I mean really cute. She looked up for a second then her cheeks began blushing a little bit for her to start trying to get back to her work.
“Morning sleeping beauty.” She smiled as she looked up at me again. I noticed she had a box of cheez-its out and on her second can of Palmer. Didn’t realize I slept that long holy shit. 
“Where are we?” I rubbed my eyes as I looked out the window. 
“We’re about to land.” She told me as I the bumpy ride began happening. I was now fully awake as I put my jacket back into my bag as she began shoving everything back into one of hers. 
“Did you finish it?” I asked her as she nodded with a mouthful of cheez-its. 
“Should be ready for tonight hopefully. Or I fall to my death.” She swallowed as I grabbed the box for a couple of cheez-its.
We landed at the private airfield as we began getting off the plane. I was the last off the plane as everyone else was making sure they had all their things for tonight, since it’s technically 8 am here if I did the math right. 
“Anyone else like super hungry?” Three asked as we finished double checking our bags. 
“I heard there’s a really good noodle shop that’s a few blocks away.” Five told us as we loaded ourselves up with everything. 
“Some noodles sound absolutely delicious.” Eight commented as we started walking towards the big moving truck that One had bought for us that would let us sneak in and out of Hong Kong. 
Please don’t let tonight be an absolute shit show! I enjoy working with Eight because I get the feeling she won’t leave me behind. Just loves pushing me into situations, yet stay’s with me. It’s better than my old group of thieves were in Kiev. 
Just let tonight go somewhat smoothly! 
Taglist: @filmslutt​ @bonafiderocketqueen​ @leah-halliwell92​ @soy-guey​ @lazykittenstudent​ @radiob-l-a-hblah​ @itsmeaudrieee​ @intoanothermind​ @imjustboredso​ @4lendow-norris​ @wickedholland​ @takemetoneverlandbabe​ @raylan-c​ @johndeaconshands​ 
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petrichoravellichor · 5 years ago
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Can I please have a (platonic) Balthazar and Castiel in the prompt “-some dude with a megaphone is spewing homophopic crap outside the cafeteria and we’re both protesting him because the college is adamnant about his freedom of speech rights, make out with me to piss him off?”
Can I Get an Amen
Relationship: Balthazar & Cas (platonic)
Other Characters: Sam Winchester, Naomi (unnamed, but it’s her)
Rating: T
Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Balthazar POV, Bi-/Pansexual Balthazar, Slightly Hippie!Cas (like, a mixture of Endverse!Cas + Crazy!Cas), Bees, Homophobic Language (which gets shut the fuck down), Very Exaggerated Make-Out Session Between Friends (to piss off a homophobe, so it’s for a good cause)
(Ao3)
*****
When Sam’s alarm went off at seven a.m., Balthazar’s first thought upon jarring awake was that he was going to throw the bloody phone out the window. (He didn’t, because doing so would have required him to get up, but it was a near thing.) Balthazar had no idea what sort of cosmic fuck-up he’d committed in a previous life to get landed with a roommate for whom going for an early morning run beat out having a lie-in, but as he grumbled under his breath while Sam rose and dressed, he felt fairly certain that fate was having a laugh at his expense.
Sam, the bastard, found this all very amusing.
“You know,” Sam said mildly as he sat on the edge of his bed and did up his shoelaces, seemingly impervious to the death-glare Balthazar was giving him, “it wouldn’t kill you to get up a few hours before your first class. You don’t even have to exercise: you could just, like, read or get some extra studying in or something.”
Balthazar snorted. “I could, yes, but why on earth would I,” he said, stretching luxuriously beneath his sheets, “when I could just as easily stay in bed and dream of having a ménage à-whatever-French-for-twelve is?”
“Okay, one, it’s douze, and two, ew. Also, don’t even pretend like you could keep up with that many women.”
“Mm, bold of you to assume they were all women.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Anyway,” he said, standing, “I’m gonna go. Have fun dreaming about naked people.”
He left, and Balthazar promptly buried his head under his pillow, determined to fall back asleep. He gave up after half an hour of angry tossing and turning, rising in a huff and stomping over to his dresser. If he was doomed to be awake this early, then he might as well go down to the quad and fetch himself something caffeinated to drink.
Ten minutes later, he was trudging down the steps outside the dorm building and mulling over various forms of revenge—his current favorite consisted of tossing out one of Sam’s beloved running shoes, then watching with glee as Sam searched for it in vain—when he heard a voice from the lawn to his left:
“You’re up early.”
Balthazar turned and spotted his friend Cas, who was currently dressed in a loose-fitting shirt and sweats; he was barefoot, balancing on one leg with the other tucked up under him, palms pressed together, and was peering at Balthazar with a mixture of surprise and amusement. “I didn’t know you even existed before noon.”
Balthazar sighed. “Yes, well, annoying roommates with early alarms are annoying.”
“Ah.” Cas shifted into a different pose, placing both feet flat on the grass and raising his arms above his head. “And here I thought I’d finally convinced you to try yoga with me.”
“Cassie, the day I willingly twist myself into a pretzel while both clothed and sober is the day I forgive you for making me sit through three hours of that god-awful Titanic movie.”
“You’re just mad because you hate Celine Dion.”
“It’s not her I hate, it’s that bloody song! And furthermore,” Balthazar added, pointedly ignoring Cas’s snicker, “our dear Rose’s heart wouldn’t have had to go on if she’d just done a better job of making room for Jack on that piece of fucking debris.”
“It was a door.”
“It was a travesty, is what it was, and I’ll thank you to quit bringing it up. Now then,” he said, jerking his thumb in the direction of the quad, “I’m going for a latte. Care to join me? Or have you still got to do your downward doggy-style or what have you?”
Cas rolled his eyes and reached for his sandals. “It’s downward dog, and no, I’m done.”
“Brilliant, you’re buying.”
They headed toward the quad, Cas talking animatedly about some new Save the Bees project he and a few others in the Environmental Club were hoping to kick off soon. Balthazar, who was busy trying to decide if he wanted a muffin or a scone with his latte, was only half listening, a decision he regretted when he heard Cas say, with a hint of smugness, “I knew I could count on you,” and, after a quick mental replay, realized that he’d just agreed to attend an all-day event that coming weekend. Fuck. He opened his mouth to give an excuse when a commotion ahead caught his attention.
A small crowd had gathered at the edge of the quad; as Balthazar and Cas neared, Balthazar saw that at its center was a middle-aged brunette woman dressed in formal clothing who was speaking into a megaphone:
“…TIME HAS COME TO RENOUNCE YOUR SINFUL LIFESTYLE AND REMEMBER THAT ONLY THROUGH GOD’S GRACE CAN YOU ENTER THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN, FOR THE BIBLE TELLS US THAT MAN SHALL NOT LIE WITH MEN AS HE DOES WITH WOMEN, THAT IT IS AN AB—”
“—SOLUTELY DELIGHTFUL WAY TO SPEND A FRIDAY NIGHT!” interjected Balthazar, causing the woman to pause and several heads to turn in their direction.
The woman lowered her megaphone. She looked from Balthazar to Cas and back again. “I am here to spread the Lord’s teachings to you and others like you, those who have been led astray by immoral temptations of the flesh. You should thank me.”
Balthazar let out a bitter laugh. “Thank you? What on earth for?”
The woman frowned. “I told you, I’m here to spread the Lord’s teachings—”
Balthazar cut her off. “You did, twice. Good for you.” He crossed his arms. “But, you see, we’re a litter-free campus, so it’d be lovely if you took your rubbish elsewhere.”
Several of the surrounding students cheered. The woman glanced around, seemingly unsure. “I have a permit. I’m allowed to be here.”
“We’re students,” said Cas. “We pay money to be here.” Even more people cheered. “And incidentally, the line you’re referring to, Leviticus 18:22, condemns pedophilia, not homosexuality.”
Balthazar turned to Cas. “What, really?”
“Yes. The original wording translates to ‘man shall not lie with young boys’.” Cas regarded the woman coolly. “Also, since you claim to concern yourself with the word of God, I’d check the tag on that suit. Leviticus 19:19 prohibits wearing garments that mix linen and wool.”
The woman pressed her lips together in a thin line. “I will not be lectured on my faith by a young man who has clearly lost his way.”
“I’m not lecturing you,” responded Cas. “I’m simply telling you what the Bible says.”
“You mock me.”
“You do that to yourself.”
The woman scowled, eyes boring into Cas. “There are places that can help you, programs that can teach you to make more Godly choices.”
“You’re referring to so-called conversion therapy,” said Cas, and though he was still speaking calmly, there was an edge to his voice that Balthazar rarely heard, “a practice that has been discredited by every leading expert on human sexuality for over two decades.”
“Despite what you think, it can be effective if you’re willing, if you want to be fixed—”
“We’re not broken,” said Cas. “Your beliefs are.”
“Now wait just a minute—”
“Oh, piss off!” snapped Balthazar. Cas might have had the patience to deal with this sort of thing uncaffeinated, but he most certainly did not. “Aren’t there more important things you could spend your energy bitching about? Take bees, for example: they’re dropping dead at an alarming rate, which could have frankly catastrophic effects on our food supply, but no, you’re right, let’s get all dressed up and tell gay people they’re going to hell because they have the audacity to be themselves, that’s clearly the bigger priority.”
Cas gave him a surprised smile. “You were listening about the bees.”
“Of course I was listening, I’m a wonderful friend like that. Speaking of,” said Balthazar, turning to Cas with a raised eyebrow, “fancy a friendly snog to piss off this hag?”
Cas thought a moment, then shrugged. “Why not?”
“That’s the spirit,” said Balthazar bracingly, grabbing a fistful of Cas’s shirt and pulling him in for a kiss.
There was no real heat to it—at the end of the day, Balthazar knew Cas was about as romantically interested in him as he was in Cas; that is to say, not at all—but in for a penny, in for a pound. Balthazar closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Cas’s shoulders, letting out an exaggerated moan; he could feel Cas practically shaking with suppressed laughter and gave him a very subtle pinch. Cas let out a muffled snort before gasping, “Oh, Balthazar!” in mock passion and pressing their lips more firmly together; he even groaned a bit, which at which point it was Balthazar’s turn to bite back a chuckle.
Thankfully, their tactic worked: the students around them erupted into applause, and scarcely five seconds had passed before the woman let out an affronted huff and stormed off. Once the sound of her heels had sufficiently faded, Balthazar cracked an eye open and, with the visual confirmation that she was gone, gave Cas a tap on the shoulder, stepping back with a grin. “Well, that went swimmingly, wouldn’t you say?”
Cas looked off in the direction the woman had gone. “It did seem to have the desired effect, although,” he added, lips twitching in a poorly concealed smirk as he reached into his pocket and produced a tube of organic lip balm, “you probably need this more than I do.”
Balthazar rolled his eyes. “Oh, we’re giving post-snogging critiques, are we? Here, then.” He took the lip balm and, in exchange, held out a small tin of mints. “You absolutely need this more than I do.”
Cas snorted, accepting the mints and making a show of popping one into his mouth; Balthazar, for his part, applied a liberal amount of lip balm. “Right, then,” he said, smacking his lips together and pocketing the tube, “coffee?”
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adrenaline-roulette · 5 years ago
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Hallow-Queen (Joe)
I wrote three Hallow themed one shots back in October for the Boh Rhap cast (There was supposed to be a fourth, but unfortunately some things came up, and I was unable to write it. Maybe this Halloween I’ll finally get it done!?)
Anyways, there is a fic for Joe, Ben and Gwil
First up will be everyone’s favourite Dino boi! Pairing: Joe Mazzello x Reader
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The monster mash filled the bathroom as you got ready for the evening, your poor spotify algorithm will be so confused after tonight. You go for months listening only to the hits of the 80’s, and then suddenly, monster mash, and the Addams family theme are on loop! That however did not stop you from grooving along to the song, moving your hips to the beat and bobbing your head. You could hear Joe downstairs, setting everything up for the party he had organised at the last minute. Joe had sent a group text to the BohRhap cast, demanding everyone be free for Halloween. This, of course had been met with a rather loud outcry. Rami and Lucy had already made plans, Gwil was travelling to Wales to see his brother, and Ben well, Ben was free and had accepted immediately. Up until two days ago, it had been planned for just you, Joe and Ben to have a quite night together, watching scary movies, and pigging out on pizza. That is, until Joe had received a message from Gwil, his brother had come down with the flu, and didn’t want to pass it on to him. Your party now consisted of four. Next came a message from Lucy, “Okay, this is crazy, I haven’t seen you in months! Tell Joe that Rami and I will be there this weekend! (Don’t mention anything to Rami please, I’ve still got to figure out how to tell him…)”
With six confirmed people, you had taken it upon yourself to invite a few extra people, work mates, old school friends, and the castmates of Joe’s current project. As far as Joe knew, there were only going to be four of you in attendance tonight, yet somehow the extra bags of crisps, candy, and drinks hadn’t clued him in on the fact that there would be a lot more people in your house tonight. The doorbell rang downstairs, and you pause your music listening out for Joe as he shuffles around the floor below.  There’s the faint mumbling of voices, though they’re too quiet for you to pick up on who had arrived. Your phone ‘dings’ on the bathroom counter, and you turn your attention to it, a message from Ben illuminating the lock screen. “How long am I keeping Joe occupied for?”
You had a rather special surprise instore for Joe tonight, but to execute it properly, you needed Joe to give you some space for a little while. Ben had been more than willing to help out, offering to keep Joe away from you and the bathroom for as long as you required. “Just need 20 mins.” You send back just as the doorbell rings again. If you had planned everything correctly, everyone would arrive at roughly the same time, which meant Joe would be busy greeting all his unexpected guests. Turning back to face the mirror, you grin at your reflection, time for the piece de resistance! Carefully, you step into the legs of the suit you had chosen to wear, shimmying the material up to your hips. The suit is incredibly baggy on you, and it only becomes more noticeable as you shrug the outfit over your shoulders, but that was all about to change.
                                                                  *****************
“What the hell is that noise?” Joe asks, turning his attention to Ben beside him, who paused as he went to open a beer. A loud ‘whirring’ noise seemed to echo around the entire apartment, Ben had a suspicion as to who the cause of the noise was, but had promised not to say a word.
Instead, Ben simply shrugs, popping the cap off his beer and taking a swig. “No idea sorry.” Joe squints at the blonde, but says nothing more on the topic, his eyes traveling over the costume his best mate had opted to wear. “Ben, mate, I’ve gotta ask. What are you wearing?” He waves his hand in the general direction of Ben’s costume, which consisted of a lime green skirt with purple flowers, salmon coloured tank top, and black boots.
Ben looks rather outraged at Joe’s obliviousness to his costume. “I’m sexy Patrick Star you uncultured swine!” He cries out, folding his arms across his chest, glaring at Joe. “What about you? You’ve barely put any effort in at all!”
Joe looks down at himself pouting at the blonde. “What do you mean? I’m in costume too!”
“It doesn’t count if you dress as your own character!”
Now that was something Joe hadn’t considered, he hadn’t even run his costume by with you, he just assumed that what he had decided to wear would be fine! He had on his baseball outfit from undrafted, lucky number 15 for Pat Murray. Looking at the slightly faded red shirt now however, Joe realised it was perhaps a somewhat lazy costume choice, he had just been so excited to still be able to fit into it! He never stopped to think, should he wear it? “At least my ass looks good in these pants.”
Ben can’t help but chuckle, shaking his head slowly. “Well, you’re not wrong.” A grin is plastered to Joe’s lips, as he gazes around the kitchen. Clearly you had been up to something, as there were currently at least fifteen people milling around the apartment, none of which he had invited, not that they were any less welcome though.
“No fucking way!” Joe screeches, as he looks over to the front door. It had been left open, allowing the warm night air flow into the apartment, also to stop people from constantly ringing the doorbell, allowing the guests to just walk right on in. Ben casts his glance towards the door also, an identical look of glee on his face also. “RAMI! LUCY!”
The sheer volume of Joe’s voice carries over the small crowd of guests, and the two people of his calling turn to look at him, only to find the man in question jumping up and down like a child on Christmas, waving his hands in the air. Ben looks almost embarrassed to be stood beside him, though he would never leave his side, especially seeing as the only other people who he knew at the party, were headed straight for him now. The ever impeccably dressed couple, now stood with them, dressed as Jack and Sally from the nightmare before Christmas. It was a classic costume, but they both pulled the look off so well! “What the hell are you two doing here?” Joe grins, as he wraps his arms around Lucy, then Rami in a tight, welcoming hug.
“You know, I would love to know the answer to that also Joe. Lucy, perhaps you could shed some light on the situation?” Rami smirks, wrapping an arm around the blonde bombshell.
Ben raises a quizzical eyebrow at Lucy, while she shies away from the interrogation she was currently facing. “Maybe, I accidentally typed in the wrong address when booking our uber?” She offers in explanation, though it’s obvious that even she doesn’t believe her own lie.
“Did Y/N have something to do with it?” Joe laughs, swiping a beer off the table for himself.
“I’m pretty sure Y/N had something to do with this entire party. You just weren’t told.” Ben offers quietly. Joe nods in agreement, there was no denying you had created this party, even if Joe had thought he was the one planning the whole thing.
The front door continues to swing open and closed, allowing more and more people inside, the dull mumble of conversation rising to one of a low roar. A tall shadow looms over the small group, who had migrated into the sitting room, Rami was scrolling through Joe’s phone, creating a playlist for the night, while Lucy, Ben and Joe discussed their latest projects. “Looks like our mission from God was a success. We’ve gotten the band back together.” The deep voice of Gwilym is one that cannot go unrecognised, and the small group all turn to face him. The Brit was dressed as Indiana Jones, complete with a whip from a children’s costume of the adventurer, and a brown sable fedora.
                                                                  *****************
You switch the air pump off, turning to face the mirror once more, a broad grin covering your concealed face. “Joe is going to love this!” You chuckle to yourself, moving to exit the bathroom. Your walk is a slow, lumbering one, your oversized costume causing you to take short steps, as apposed to the long strides you usually took. You left your phone on the bathroom counter, having realised you had no way of picking it up and storing it on your person, now you had your costume fully applied. As you exit the bathroom, the soft notes of the time warp, melt into those of the much louder all star, the smash mouth hit blaring through the speakers on the floor below. “Stairs, okay, we can do stairs. This is fine, I am fine...”
At no point during the costume planning process had you considered the need to travel downstairs, and now here you stood, trying to gauge what the best way to tackle your descend. To say it was a slow process down would be an understatement, as you neared the bottom, a few guests stopped to look at your larger than life costume, attempting to peer in and see who had donned such an outrageous outfit. However they soon gave up, when you took too long to reach them. You could hardly blame them for walking away, by the time you got off the stairs, it had taken you close to seven minutes! You wouldn’t wait for you either.
You scan over the crowd, costumed people milling around your apartment drinking and eating, a few dancing along to the music that filled every crevice of the small home. Finally, you spot the people you had been looking for, your small band of misfits who had taken up one of the sofa’s in the sitting room. Somehow Ben, Lucy, Gwil and Rami had managed to sit themselves of the two-seater, leaving Joe sat cross legged on the carpet beside them. Moving closer, Ben is the first to spot you, not that you had expected anything else, he was the only one who knew what your costume was, in all honesty, he had been keeping an eye out for you all evening. Your shadow looms over Joe, who frowns slightly at what he would deem, as a rude intrusion into his personal space. “Hey mate, I think one of your guests needs a hand.” Ben smirks, raising an eyebrow in your general direction.
                                                                  *****************
Joe looks up at Ben, his neck straining from having to continuously tilt his head back at an awkward angle to see his friends. He pushes himself up from the floor, adjusting his now lopsided baseball cap, before pivoting on the spot, only to come face to face with an inflatable T-Rex. The grin which takes over his face, is one you had been praying you would see tonight, and it only cements the fact, that you had worn the perfect costume. Sure it would likely never be worn again, you couldn’t think of a time where you would require a T-Rex costume, and you could almost guarantee that after tonight, it would be folded back into the amazon box it had arrived in, then shoved under your bed, never to see the light of day again. But just for this moment, the look on Joe’s face, made it all entirely worth it!
“Y/N that had better be you under there. Or I’m about to profess my love for a complete stranger.” He chuckles, the grin never wavering from his cheeks, as he looks past the mesh below the dinosaur’s head, searching for a face he could recognise.
You shake your head from side to side, the dinosaur’s head moving erratically as you do so. “Of course it’s me! Honestly, who else would do something like this?” You laugh, as Joe wraps his arms around you, hugging as best he can through the thick layer of inflated costume.
“Bugger me I love you.” He breaths out softly before he whirls around on the spot, one arm remaining wrapped around you, causing you to stumble forward with him. “Benjamin! Did you know about this?” Joe cries, mock hurt flashing through his hazel eyes.
Ben simply shrugs, downing the last of his beer, before leaning forwards and placing the empty bottle on the coffee table. “Don’t yell at Ben! If it hadn’t of been for him, this whole thing would’ve been ruined with your snooping!” You laugh in your friend’s defence.
Joe turns to look at you, mouth agape at your outcry. “What do you mean, my snooping?”
You roll your eyes, though quickly speak up, having forgotten no one can see your face terribly well. “Oh come off it Joe, you know as well as I do that if you get a hunch something is going on, then you do everything in your power to get to the bottom of it!”
“I do not!”
This time, there is a chorus of people agreeing with you, and Joe now turns to the group who he had only moments ago been sitting with. “Ben, I expected this from you. But the rest of you? I expected better!”
“Oh Joe, we love you, But Y/N is right. You remember Christmas last year, when you thought Gwil had you for secret Santa? You wouldn’t let it go for weeks! Not until you finally got you present, only to find out Rami had had you!” Lucy grins, shaking her head softly. Joe has the decency to look somewhat embarrassed.
“You followed me home one night after filming! It was bloody terrifying!” Gwil chuckles, crossing one leg over the other. “I nearly called the police, I thought someone was about to rob me, until I realised it was you lurking by the front door!”
You can’t help but laugh at this, as Rami turns to look at Gwil in shock. “I’m sorry, Joseph did what now?” Joe fumbles with his words as he attempts to explain himself, as Gwil simply laughs loudly, unable to form words to explain the situation to Rami. You remember that discussion quite well with Joe.
                                                                  *****************
It was close the four in the morning when you heard the front door creak open, you had been napping on the sofa, the show you had been binge watching on Netflix long since finished. But Joe had promised he would be home at a reasonable hour tonight, so you had decided to stay up and wait for him. This, however, was not what you considered a reasonable time! And from the way he had been talking when you spoke on the phone earlier in the day, he was expecting to be home just after midnight.
 “Hey babe.” He smiled, toeing off his shoes at the front door, and hanging his coat up on the hook by the door. You frown over at him, peering over the back of the sofa, sleep clouding you vision momentarily.
 “Where have you been?” You sigh, on any other night, you would likely get into an argument over his late arrival. But you were too tired for that right now, and quietly you were just glad that he was home now.
Joe has the decency to look somewhat guilty, as he moves around the apartment, settling down on the sofa beside you. He lifts your legs for a few moments, before lowering them back down, now resting over his lap. “I’m sorry Y/N. I had a few errands to run. I guess I lost track of time.”
“Errands at three in the morning?” Joe goes still, and you can see the cogs turning in his mind as he tries to think up an excuse. “Out with is Mazzello.”
Joe pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index fingers, his eyes squeezing shut tightly. “I, um, followed Gwil home.” He mumbles.
You’re at a loss for words, and blink steadily at the ginger beside you. You had met Gwilym only a handful of times, he was such a gentleman! And for the life of you, you couldn’t understand why Joe had felt the need to follow the man home. “Expand and explain.”
“You know how the cast and I are all doing secret Santa this year?” Joe pauses, and looks over to you, watching as you nod in understanding before he continued. “Well, Rami kept asking me about things that I liked, and what I would perhaps want for Christmas. At first I thought nothing of it, but then I saw him and Gwil whispering to each other, and they kept looking over at me when I was grabbing a coffeein between takes. I put two and two together, and figured Rami was collecting information for Gwil! I asked around, tried to find out if anyone knew who had me, but either no one knew, or they refused to tell me. So I decided to take things into my own hands! We finished up for the night, and I decided to follow Gwil, to try and confirm my suspicions. He went to a department store, and I followed him as best I could, but I couldn’t see what he purchased, there were too many people around. So I realised I just had to follow him home, and see if I could catch what I was wrapping. And well, that’s kinda what I did. Problem is, he caught me lurking around the place, swung the door open, demanded I come inside, and proceeded to give me the lecture of a lifetime.” Joe finishes looking like a kicked puppy.
You can barely contain your laughter, and if it were to be told by anyone else, you would say they were lying. But you knew Joe, and this was exactly the kind of thing he would do! “You’re a fucking idiot, you know that right? The whole point of secret Santa is right there in the name, it’s supposed to be a secret!”
“Yes, I know that! But I just had to know if he did have me!”
“And, the verdict was?”
“I still don’t god damned know! I couldn’t see what the gift was when he wrapped it, and he refused to tell me!”
You shake your head, sighing deeply, it was a good thing you lived this man, otherwise you would be on the verge of sending him to a psychiatric ward. “Bloody hell Joe, I’m going to bed before you tell me anymore.”
                                                                  *****************
As you stand with your rag-tag group of friends, you make a note of the one flaw in your costume, you have no way of eating or drinking whilst wearing it. A pout forms on your lips, as you join in with a conversation Lucy had sprung up with Ben. After a while, you excuse yourself “I’d best go play hostess to the rest of the guests.” You say with a grin, stepping away from the group.
“We all know we are the best guests here!” Rami calls, giving you a double thumbs up as you walk away.
You grin, shaking your head softly as you move around the large number of guests. It seemed like most people had taken the option of bringing a plus one, not that you could blame them. You often did the exact same thing, dragging Joe along to most social gatherings you were invited to. Slowly, you made your way around to everyone, making polite conversation with the guests you didn’t know well, and speaking enthusiastically about your costume with those you did know. By the time you had made the rounds a few times, you were hungry, and honestly really frustrated about not being able to eat. You made your way over to Joe, attempting to be subtle as you slide into the conversation he was engrossed in, Gwil talking animatedly with him about his latest project. “Hey babe, could I borrow you for a few minutes?” You ask softly.
Joe turns away to look at you, smiling at you, leaning down to hear you over the loud noise of the party. “Sure love, let’s go somewhere quiet so I can actually hear you?” He grins, before leading you away, towards the laundry. It was a rather small room, and was barely more quiet than where you had just been, but you were thankful for not having to manoeuvre the stairs once again. It was one thing to go down, and you wouldn’t know where to begin with how to go up. “What’s up?” Joe grin, leaning back against the washing machine, arms folded loosely over his chest.
“Can you give me a hand getting out of this?” You laugh, gesturing as best you can with you tiny T-Rex arms, at the costume you were surrounded by. “It was a bitch of a thing to get on, and I don’t even know where to start with taking it off.”
Joe grins, though moves to you quickly, helping you out of the outfit with ease. Perhaps you should’ve asked for some help getting it on also? That probably would’ve been a good idea… Joe places the sad looking T-Rex in the corner of the laundry, grinning across at you. “Now who are you supposed to be?” He chuckles, taking in your now lack of costume.
You look down at your yoga pants and shirt combo. “I’m a Jurassic Park fan still, can’t you tell?” You smirk, pointing to the faded Jurassic Park logo shirt, which you had long ago stolen from Joe. “I’ve got a soft spot for ‘lil Tim Murphy. He was my first movie crush.” You giggle.
Joe sighs, rolling his eyes at you, though a smirk tugs the corner of his lips. “How about a soft spot for Pat Murray too?” He suggests wriggling his eyebrows at you suggestively. You walk over to him slowly, rolling your hips as you do so, watching as his eyes travel from yours, and down to your hips. You stand up tall, taking the dusty cap off his head, planting it firmly on your own. His hair is an absolute mess underneath, his auburn locks pointing in all directions.
“Perhaps I just have a soft spot for that actor in general?” You tease, before making your way out of the laundry, and back to the party. You don’t wait for Joe, making your way over to your group once more, throwing yourself onto the sofa with an “Ooof.” Ben barely had a chance to get out of the way before you land partially on him, and Lucy grins at you from where she sits on the arm of the sofa.
“Someone pass me something alcoholic in nature please.” You grin, as you make yourself comfortable, sinking into the cushions. You don’t have to as twice, a glass of what you assume is rum and coke, thrust into your hands from Rami. “Cheers!” You grin, raising your glass in the air, before tipping the contents back.
You quickly fall into conversation with Ben, thanking him over and over again for keeping Joe distracted earlier in the evening, to which he brushes you off, telling you to not worry about it. Completely unaware, that when he brings up the promotion you recently got at work, that perhaps he was now keeping you distracted. Joe had reappeared recently, sitting on the opposite side of you, with a bowl of hula hoops in his lap. Carefully, he takes your left hand, and places one of the snacks on your ring finger, a soft blush covering his cheeks. “Thank you Joe, I am starving!” You grin, eating the food off your finger.
You’re oblivious to what he’s getting at, paying no mind to which finger he continues placing the crisp on, and instead, eating it off each time a new one appears. Joe looks at Ben over you shoulder, who simply shrugs in response, unsure what either could do about it. “Babe, could I maybe have more than one at a time?” You ask sweetly, and Joe looks physically pained.
Lucy, who had been watching the events unfold before her, had cottoned on to what was going on early in the piece, and decided to jump to Joe’s aid. “Y/N darling, just take a second and look at your hand yeah?”
You frown slightly at her, before turning away from Joe, looking down at your hand. “What’s so special about? Oh….” Perhaps it shouldn’t have taken you this long to figure out what was going on. The hula hoop sat just above your first knuckle on your ring finger.
“Um, I know this isn’t how one normally does the whole, proposal thing. But we haven’t gone out looking at rings before, and I don’t know was your ring size is… So I’m kinda hoping this will do for the time being? As a place holder kind of thing?” Joe rambles, the blush creeping steadily up to the tips of his ears.
“Joseph, I’ll marry you with or without a ring.” You grin, throwing your arms around his neck, as his snake around your waist, your lips pressing together in a fierce kiss. A kiss full of promises of the future.
“Jeez, I don’t know how we’ll upstage Halloween next year.” Gwil smirks, as he and the other guests who were aware of the happenings clapped for the newly engaged couple.
My Masterlist
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pseudonymsobriquet · 4 years ago
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Tag Meme!
Rules: Pick 5 shows, then answer the following questions. Don’t cheat. Tag some people.
Thanks for tagging me, @boostthatgold and @ninja-crybaby~! Sorry it took me so long to finally do... (>~<)
Carole and Tuesday
One Punch Man
Parasyte: The Maxim
Fullmetal Alchemist
Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Who is your favourite character in 2? Its very close between Genos and Saitama, but I think Genos wins by a hair (no pun intended). The borg is so emotional and loving and I just wanna give him a hug.
Who is your least favourite character in 1? Oh Cybelle, definitely. She’s a horrible person. Which is a damn shame since her song “La Ballade” is an absolute bop.
What is your favourite episode of 4? Episode 54, “Beyond the Inferno”. [SPOILERS AHEAD] Riza seeing through Envy’s disguise with ease, Roy confronting Hughes killer, a discussion on how hatred only breeds hatred and what makes someone human. The sympathy and pity you feel for Envy... there are so many great moments in this one episode and it’s one that I always remember to this day despite not having seen the series in at least four years. 
What’s your favourite season of 5? It only has one season, so I guess it’s season one by default lol. It was one hell of a ride for sure. Lots of interesting discussions and horrifying reveals, and does a great job at a “genre sike” by being relatively family friendly until episode three where everything gets turned upside down and you realise it’s a psychological horror despite the cute art style.
Who is your favourite couple in 3? Shinji and Murano were the only official couple in the show, but I definitely didn’t ship it. Kinda felt like you could take Murano completely out of the story and everything still would have been the same. Honestly, Shinji and Kana had better chemistry, but Kana needed to work on some of her stuff before that could happen. A relationship with Shinji and Hideo could have been interesting, too.
Who is your favourite couple in 2? I’m a huge fan of Saitama and Genos as a couple! They both help each other to work on their issues and become a better person. Genos helped bring Saitama out of his depression and to be more emotive, and open up to people, eventually leading to a happier more enjoyable life and him gaining a network of friends to rely on. Saitama in turn helped Genos to overcome his uncontrollable rage and to think more before acting so he doesn’t end up hurt as much. Also he taught him to focus on things other than revenge (though that may have lead to a bit of an obsession with Saitama himself lol). Every domestic interaction between the two seems natural and effortless, and if one is hurt the other goes wild which is an A+ trope that I just love lmao. I could write a damn essay on why these two are perfect for each other honestly. 
What is your favourite episode of 1? The last episode! It’s the end of a series, but the start of something great for all the characters. Also the Miraculous Seven Minutes was absolutely phenomenal and I’m so glad I watched it in the show before I listened. I also cried like four times during that seven minutes because of what it meant to the characters, and I don’t often cry at things! So this show making me cry four times in seven minutes is a feat of its own! Watch Carole & Tuesday folks, you won’t regret it. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, and you’ll wanna bop along with the characters during every song.
What is your favourite episode of 5? Ooft, Episode 6, “This Just Can’t Be Right”. The absolute bombshell that was dropped towards the end was just horrifying in every way and I honestly didn’t see it coming. I think this was the point that both the characters and the audience realised exactly what a horrifying ordeal being a magical girl really was. Episode 8, “I was Stupid... So Stupid” is a very close second, and gives us another bombshell reveal I didn’t see coming that ramped up the horror even more. I won’t give any spoilers on these episodes tho ‘cause it’s one of those “it’s better if you experience it yourself” moments. What I will say is that Madoka Magica is a psychological horror at its heart, don’t let the cutesy art style fool you. 
What is your favourite season of 2? Season 1 by a long shot. I’ve personally seen the entirety of season 1 at least six times over, whereas I watched Season two once as it released. I enjoyed the second season and would love a third season to release, but season one was superior in every way. Maybe it’s because I feel like less happened in season two? Or that there was more focus on human interaction and relationships in the first? Or perhaps it’s because I really saw myself in season one Saitama? Whatever the reason, I could still happily watch season one like six more times.
How long have you watched 1? Carole & Tuesday only released last year, but I started watching when there were only three episodes out subbed! From there I kept watching it weekly as it released, and I’m so glad I decided to watch it because it quickly became one of my fave animes of all time. 
How did you become interested in 3? I first heard about Parasyte when I was about sixteen? I’m sure I saw it on a list of great horror manga while I was looking for something new to read. I actually read quite far in but never finished because I had to study for exams then lost my place and just never went back. Then this year, a full nine years later, I saw the anime was on Netflix and I remembered just how much I’d loved reading what I did of it, so I started and finished it in three days lol. Turns out I wasn’t far from the end when I’d lost my place all those years ago. It brought back nostalgia of something I loved as a teen and I loved how well animated it was (even though it can look a little silly at times). I’d definitely recommend Parasyte to anyone interested in horror anme and manga.
Who is your favourite actor in 4? Edward Elric’s Japanese voice actress Romi Park was my fave. She has The Range. When she voices Ed, I honestly believe every emotion, every performance she gives. From a scared child to a hero saving the world, she does an amazing job. 
Which do you prefer: 1, 2, or 5? It’s gonna be a close one between Carole & Tuesday and One Punch Man, that’s for sure. One Punch Man was an anime where I saw myself in the main character and his journey through depression and not knowing what to do in life, and Carole & Tuesday made me feel emotions I haven’t felt in a very long time and stressed the importance of music and friendship. Although, considering I have the Carole & Tuesday songs on a playlist and know every word to them all, and the impact that the series finale (and the series as a whole) had on me, I’m going to have to say Carole & Tuesday win this round because of just how much it meant to me. 
If you could be anyone from 4, who would you be? Oh man, I’d wanna be Olivier. The strength, the confidence, the pizazz... I think Olivier is everything I wanna be lmao. 
Would a crossover between 3 and 4 work? Parasyte and Fullmetal Alchemist? Hell yeah, I’d love to see that crossover. Maybe the parasites in that world could be a type of homunculous or something? They both had the same idea of infiltrating the government for their own personal gain too.
Pair two characters in 1 who would make an unlikely but strangely okay couple? Gus and Flora would make a great couple, I could definitely see them getting together after the series ends. Carole and Tuesday would be great too, though they work just as well as friends.
Overall, which show has the better storyline, 3 or 5? Tricky, but I’d have to go with Parasyte. There were a lot of interesting moments and discussions in the series that pulled me in, like “what is humanity?” and “what makes someone human?” and “at what point is someone no longer human?” and “is it possible for humans and parasites to coexist?” Madoka Magica was a great series, had some great moments and asked some equally as interesting questions, but I think Parasyte pulled it off better in the end.
Which has better theme music, 2 or 4? Oooohhhh, that’s a tough one... One Punch Man or Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood... I just listened yo all the songs from both to try make up my mind and I’m still a bit lost, so let’s go by “what’s more memorable/makes me feel some kind of emotion?” FMA: “Again” by Yui and “Shunkan Sentimental” by Scandal are the only ones that seem familiar and that I can remember when they aren’t in front of me. I know I’ve heard them all (I watched the entire series) but to say it probably has more music, I actually remember very little of it. OPM on the other hand... I know most of the words to “The Hero” by JAM Project and it makes me feel so hyped up. “Apostle of Silence” by JAM Project in the second season is just as rad and memorable. Both of the ending themes are beautiful and emotional. And the first ending theme seems to be about Genos wishing Saitama would come home safe, while the season two’s ending is sung by Saitama’s voice actor and seems to be a reply to the first season’s ending theme? Absolutely gay and iconic, 10/10. Wow, OPM hands down has the best music then I guess lmao.  I tag anyone who sees this that wants to do it~! Have fun, guys~! <3 
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hazelandglasz · 5 years ago
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Prompting 'our students think we’re dating' + 'we leave each other notes on the blackboards' AUs, cause it makes A LOT of sense. Pretty please? (I love you, chérie.)
disneyklaine asked: hmm….. the blackboard notes one :)
anonymous asked:OUR STUDENTS THINK WE’RE DATING AU omg
anonymous asked:Okay, so those hs aus were amazing! maybe you could write “our students think we’re dating au” some time? (for Klaine) :) :) :)
Alright then ^^
AKA Five times a student tried to prove his teachers are dating and the one time the teachers are undeniably dating.
On AO3
Lucas knows that there is something going on.
He knows it, with every fiber of his being. And Ishrak can tell him that he’s delusional and that it’s not sane to ship real people as much as he wants to, Lucas will not be undeterred.
Professor Hummel and Professor Anderson are undeniably in a relationship, and he will prove it to his unromantic boyfriend if it is the last thing he does.
(Hopefully, it won’t come to that.)
They are fairly obvious, when you know how to look.
1. Hiding in plain sight
The way they always, always, come rain, snow or sun, always arrive separately exactly 7 minutes apart.
“That’s not exactly a proof, Lulu, it just means that they are punctual.”
“Exactly seven minutes apart, every morning! No, no no, it proves that they are coming together, and then Mr Hummel waits what he considers a sufficient amount of time for it to be inconspicuous and make his entrance.”
“That makes … eurgh, I hate you for making sense.”
“Ah!”
2. Three is a crowd
Lucas does not stalk his two favorite teachers.
(He does not.)
However.
It just so happens that their paths often cross on campus.
And whenever Mr Hummel and Mr Anderson happen to be hanging out, there is always, always, at least one other member of staff with them.
Sometimes it’s Ms. Jones, who appears to be very happy to link her arms with them as they walk and laugh.
Sometimes it’s Ms. Berry, who leads the way with a confidence inversely proportional to her size while Mr Hummel and Mr Anderson humor her.
Sometimes they can be spotted having a very animated conversation with Mr Evans--especially Mr Anderson, while Mr Hummel shakes his head and hides his mirth behind a large travel mug.
If Lucas was not intimately convinced of Mr Anderson’s commitment to Mr Hummel, his apparent bromance with Mr Evans could be another theory, but no.
Mr Evans’s constant googly eyes toward Ms Jones are legendary across the whole school.
And while Lucas is particularly invested in the Hummel-Anderson relationship, he can see how they would make a cute couple.
3. The Travel Mug
Speaking of the travel mug.
Both teachers are known for being coffee addicts of the first order.
But.
Lucas would bet his life on the fact that he has now seen the dark travel mug on both desks, on separate occasions.
From afar, it just looks like a black cup, but on closer inspection, it does bear a pattern that Ishrak kindly identified as a Darth Vader silhouette, which fits Mr Anderson’s discrete geeky chic. But, it could be misconstructed for a skull, which would fit Mr Hummel’s seldom gothic aesthetic.
Ergo, game, set and match.
“You do know that these mugs are sold by the thousand, every day, right?”
“Why would Mr Hummel, McQueen is a genius and Gautier is the last designer who understood the dramatic possibilities for movie costumes, Hummel, would have a Star Wars mug of all things?”
“Did he actually say that?”
“Yep. Made us watch the Fifth element to make his point.”
“So he does like sci-fi.”
“... Shit, you make a point!. But still, I’m sure it’s the same than Mr Anderson.”
“So maybe they both like Star Wars.”
“Yeah they do. And they Yub Nub all night long, if you get my drift.”
Ishrak rubs his face. “I will give you that one if you never, ever repeat Yub Nub in that context, you heathen.”
4. The Post Its
That is perhaps the more damning proof Lucas has at his disposal.
Both teachers hold office hours on the same, which is not his proof.
But on the two occasions Lucas had to go and ask them for some informations--Mr Hummel for a book reference Lucas didn’t catch and could apparently save his essay, Mr Anderson to ask for an extension on a paper due the following week because his anxiety hit hard--Lucas spotted something on their respective boards.
Oh, while both teachers mostly have pictures and articles on those boards, there are little notes written on Post-Its carefully pinned to the panels.
Lucas doesn’t pry too much into them to figure out what they say--though the hearts drawn on Mr Hummel’s leave little to the imagination--but.
But.
He recognizes the handwritings.
“You can’t read what they say but you ‘know’ they’re each other’s handwriting? Babe, no more C.S.I. for you.”
“I’m telling you, Ish, they write each other little notes--I’m sure they hide them in their lunchbox, the dorks.”
“Hm. That would be cute.”
“Right?!”
“...No! Luke, you will not get me to ship two of my most esteemed professors! No! Bad Lucas.”
“Look at the notes next time you’re in their offices, and tell me I’m wrong.”
“If I do, will you stop with this obsession of yours and help me with my project?”
“What, getting Mr Evans and Ms Jones together?”
“Stop looking at me like that, it’s not shipping, it’s giving them a happy story.”
“Hm-hm.”
*Shush.”
“Hm-hm.”
“I hate you.”
“Sure you do.”
5. Too Single To Be Honest
The final point in Lucas’ case in proving that Mr Hummel and Mr Anderson are dating is the most damning, but also the most … well, convoluted, even he can see that.
Number 1: both men are handsome, if differently so, and in their prime.
Number 2: they always show up for the students shows and the balls and the mixers.
(Again, seven minutes apart, Lucas is going out of his mind with this gap.)
Number 3: they never bring a date that could be considered a date.
(“Mr Anderson’s brother does not count as a date, what the fuck?”)
Number 4: they never talk about a significant other. Never.
Number 5: But. They are both incurable romantics.
Conclusion: it is highly unlikely that both these men are still single and they are using the social events on campus to hide their relationships as a professional one instead of the romantic one that it is.
“That doesn’t make a shred of sense.”
“No, no, it does! Look: what better way to fly under the radar than making an appearance at the soirées? If they didn’t come--and I know what you’re thinking, why wouldn’t they take advantage of everybody being busy with the different events to have their own datenight on their own, right?”
“...Right.”
“Then, if they didn’t come, it would become quite obvious that both Mr Hummel and Mr Anderson are always missing on these; And then, it would be super easy to just connect the dots and figure out that the two are, um, closer than they would like us to think.”
“Shit, how do you make sense of the most convoluted and useless conspiracy theory!”
“It’s a talent.”
“Mr Anderson must love you in this creative writing class.”
“He does.”
“Why do you care so much about that? What does it matter if they are indeed dating?”
Lucas pulls Ishrak closer to him and rests his chin on top of his head. “I don’t know,” he says softly, “it would be cool to have an older couple to look up to. To see that gay relationships are not just a thing for us, but it exists for older people too.”
“They’re not that old,” Ishrak says as he snuggles up to his lanky boyfriend. “But I see what you mean.”
+1 The BlackBoard
Now, Ishrak would love to find a way to make Lucas drop the whole “Hummel Anderson” affair. 
It was endearing, at first, to see his boyfriend get all riled up, but it’s slowly becoming a Thing. Lucas even bought a corkboard to tie, literally tie with a red thread, all of his proofs.
Ishrak wishes he could find a way, really.
But what he just saw with his own two eyes is pretty damning evidence, fuck it all to the seven rings of Hell.
See, every week, Mr Anderson’s class precedes Mr Hummel’s.
Lucas and Ishrak are quite happy about that, it gives them a moment where they don’t have to rush across campus to get to their class (and some times to catch up on their making out, if they can).
Except today Lucas has a cold, so Ishrak had to leave the classroom and wait in front of it for Mr Hummel to arrive.
That’s how he witnesses it all, really.
Being the last to leave, he can see Mr Anderson scribbling something in a small corner of the blackboard. As he goes to leave, there is a small smile on his face that Ishrak can only describe as fond.
“Ah, waiting for your next class, Mr Rahman?”
“Y-yes sir.”
“Make sure to tell Mr Angos that I will send him the Powerpoint presentation later today, so he doesn’t have to worry about it.”
“That’s very kind of you, sir.”
Mr Anderson smiles at him before getting his messenger bag in place and walking down the hall.
Ishrak watches him go--he loves Lucas, but he still has eyes, okay--before looking back in the classroom.
He entirely blames his C.S.I. boyfriend on his first impulse to go back inside and read whatever Mr Anderson wrote.
He shakes his head and sits on the floor.
He tells himself that it is not his business, that for all he knows, Mr Anderson had a stroke of inspiration and wrote what went through his head to memorize it for later.
But, a voice that sounds like Lucas counters, why wouldn’t he write it down in his notebook? Or on his phone? Hell, on his hand would be more conductive to later work than the blackboard of a classroom he is not going to return to before the end of the week!
Ishrak sighs before getting to his feet.
But before he can step inside and snoop, Mr Hummel arrives, whistling.
That sounds like the Cantina song, but--
“Hello, Mr Rahman. Ah, deprived of your companion today, are you?”
“Hello, sir; Yeah, Lucas is under the weather.”
“Shame. He would have loved today’s class. Should I give you the sheet to give to him?”
“Sure, Sir.”
“Come on,” Mr Hummel says, opening the door, “I know the class starts in ten minutes, but even those wooden chairs are more comfortable than the floor.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
Ishrak approaches the desk under the pretense of getting the papers for Lucas.
And that’s how he manages to read what’s on the board.
Hi Sally. There you are. B.A.
It doesn’t make any sense, and yet.
And yet, Ishrak simply has to put the look on MR Anderson’s face when he wrote it next to the look on Mr Hummel’s face when he reads it to know, with absolute certainty, that the message bears a lot of weight for them.
Because they are, irrevocably and undeniably, a “them”.
Eurgh, Lucas is never going to let him hear the end of it, is he?
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rogmobile · 6 years ago
Text
I’ll Be Home for Christmas
Roger Taylor x fem!Reader or Ben!Roger x fem!Reader
note: i literally got this idea while listening to the song and looking at an ornament on my tree..anyway enjoy grammatical mistakes, incorrect punctuation, etc. enjoy my trash!
Word Count: 2.3k
Snow fell soundlessly on the ground outside as you slept. Your chest lifting and falling as air swelled and deflated from your lungs. Dreams coming and going, yet you wouldn’t remember the blissful thoughts when you woke up. In your peace you were oblivious to the phone that rang out in the kitchen. It rang seven separate times. Each call ringing as much as it could, begging for you to pick up, before giving up. Hours later your nose flooded with the bitterly enticing scent of coffee, but it wasn’t the same scent you had grown to love. With a blanket wrapped around your shoulders and the impostor coffee in hand you sat watching the snow fall with only one worry on your mind: Roger.
Your boyfriend was the drummer for the band Queen. He was the best of the best, extremely talented and it made you feel nothing but proud to see how far he’s come. All the way from bar gigs when the band was still Smile and Tim was still in the picture. Roger was planned to come home this evening, Christmas Eve, but you didn't hear from him with an update. They should have left JFK airport last night, but you had not idea that had not happened. Trying to keep your mind off of it you get back to the finishing touches to your elaborate decoration after your coffee.
The decently sized tree, you dragged up to you and Roger’s flat on your own, was spotted spotted with mostly decorative ornaments with a few sentimental ones here and there. Like the one you had bought for your first Christmas together. However the top of your beautiful evergreen was bare. Because you had been waiting for Roger. It was attempt to birth a tradition of placing the angel on the pine when together. Fairy lights twinkled and danced throughout the pinewood branches causing the sparkles on the tree skirt to reflect the light, sending it in different directions, making it appear as though the bottom of the tree was on fire from the divine glow.
Lights were delicately strung around the windows in the living room. Their colourful glow illuminating spots of the white window sills in pockets of blue, red, green, yellow, and white around the large light bulbs. You seemed to be running out of things to keep your mind away from Roger, but that’s when you remembered you had yet to hang Roger’s favorite decoration. Mistletoe. It wasn’t truly his all time favorite, it was more of a joke between the two of you.
In the studio the boys were becoming miserable. It was drab and the sleet and streets full of graying snow seemed to be following them inside, as it was the last thing they’d see before being in the studio hours on end. Of course they loved what they were doing but the holidays were upon them and that’s enough to make everyone a little stir crazy. You took it upon yourself to bring them all coffee and tea in the afternoons during your breaks at work. It helped lift spirits for about two days. You had had enough of it because it put Roger in a mood every evening he’d come home. He hated spending long periods of time on the same part of a project the band was working on, especially when they wouldn’t get anywhere with it. He liked results. So having enough you went all out on your next drink visit. You showed up with a box of goodies and humming Christmas tunes. You handed out orders, which you had come to know by heart, to their corresponding consumers as they looked at the box with anticipation. Within a few minutes, colourful lights were draped against the top of the walls. Then you pinned mistletoe over the center of the door frame. Smiling at you with a love so pure and an overwhelming sense of gratefulness Roger stepped into the doorway next to you. His hands found your hips with great ease as he pulled you into a kiss. Pulling away from the sweet kiss, Roger’s hands cupped you face and squeezed your cheeks together, smearing a goofy smile across your lips. He smiled back at your cutely distorted smile before asking, “What did I do to deserve you?”
The routine kiss under the mistletoe quickly came into play. It became such a second nature to you both that at one point John decided to take the mistletoe down to see if either of you would even notice. You didn’t. The guys gave up trying to get you both to catch on, so they just told you. It became a joke between pretty much everyone in the studio, but it never stopped the two of you. Because not kissing in that doorway before you would leave would’ve been a crime.
The memory of Roger kissing you and being with you Christmas past wasn’t helping you temporarily forget how much you truly missed him, so you quickly busied yourself again by wrapping some more presents. An in depth book on star theories and constellation origin stories for Brian. A shirt with an eye catching animal print that was cut so low the neckline would rest below one’s sternum for Freddie. Then you folded, creased, and taped wrapping paper around a small box of bright blue, orange, and purple pecdeliums that were engraved to read “Deacy” for John. The boys had planned to all get together for a family Christmas feast and present exchange, which gave you a little bit more time to wrap presents. It gave you a little hope to think that they’d be home in time for the get together to recieve their presents as planned. You had already wrapped Roger’s gifts for the next morning. Admittedly you had gone a little overboard. When shopping you weren’t able to choose what to get him causing you to get him a few necklaces of different lengths, yet another fur coat to add to his growing collection, and a hat that was made of at least six different fabrics. Placing the last of the gifts under the douglas pine, you stepped back with the hope you would feel like everything was normal. But it wasn’t. Roger would’ve been wrapping his warm arms around your waste as he handed you a cup of hot cocoa while humming into your neck about how you had out done yourself with the beautiful decoration job yet again. But you were practically freezing. Trying to keep the tears gathering in your eyes from gliding down your cheeks you turned to the kitchen to busy your hands and keep your mind off of your missing other half. It didn’t work. Not only did you miss Roger, but you had something to tell him. Something that was going to change your lives forever.
About three months ago Queen had been on the East Coast stopping in all the big cities: New York, Philadelphia, Boston, Baltimore, D.C. and so many more. But it was a New York show you were flown out for. It was an unexpected surprise for Roger. He really showed you just how much he had already missed you, even though they were only on tour just over a month. Saying goodbye two days later was extremely difficult for the both of you. Because you both knew that between work and money not permitting it was the last time you’d see each other before their planned return for the holidays. Once home your time of the moth had rolled around, but was it was late which wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for your body. Then another month passed by initiating your call to the clinic. Time dragged by before your appointment. It seemed from that phone call on everything had been going so slow it was practically in reverse. Feeling the cold burn of the gel hint your lower abdomen you couldn’t help but feel as though you were watching a film. You stared blankly at the tech, not taking your eyes off of him for a split second, as if you were searching for the answer before anyone even told you. After informing you a doctor would be in soon to tell you your results the tech left. Time was dragging again, but within a few true minutes the doctor appeared. He sat next to you, looking you directly in the eye, and congratulated you with a smile.
Without noticing your hands had traveled down down to your stomach that didn’t show much of a swell yet. There was no holding it back anymore, and tears quietly spilled from your eyes. It was Christmas Eve you were alone, confused, a little frightened, and you missed Roger. You look back to your pine tree for some comfort and your eyes fall to the ornament you bought when you were told the news. It was a little bear propped up on the shoulders of a big bear that had a shirt reading “Best Daddy”. It got a sad smile out of you as you turned to go to sleep after admitting defeat that Roger wouldn’t be home for Christmas. You dragged your feet with every step you took in your retreat to the bedroom when there was a irritatingly urgent rapping at the door. Your lack of expectancy kept your hopes low and convinced you that there was no way in hell it was the only person you wanted to see. With sluggish steps and a few annoyed grumbles at the repeated knocking you opened the door. Before you even looked at who the visitor was your balance was knocked backwards by a large force. Your eyes came into focus but only to be obscured by a fluff of blonde hair. Roger. His arms were tightly wrapped around you as if he feared to lose you. His lips rapidly moved across your lips, cheeks, and then trailed down your neck in a rush of excitement. You tried to keep up, but your brain still had not processed that Roger was really there in front of you. He pulled away, eyes inspecting you with great importance like he had forgotten how you looked.
“God, I’ve missed you!” Roger beamed.
“Roger?” you let out in a breath like a prayer, as if to ask for him to truly be there. His hand found the small of your back and the other rose to the back of your head pulling you into his chest. You breathed him in. The harmonious blend of cigarettes, that cologne you loved, and the familiar musk and slight spice of his deodorant that had faintly worn off on his journey. It was intoxicating. Sliding his grip to your hand he leads you into the living room. He scanned the room, covered in decorations, causing his eyebrows to disappear under his bangs above his scintillating blue eyes.
“I’m sorry I’m so much later than you expected, (Y/N). I tried calling yesterday but Brian reminded me that it would’ve been one in the morning here.” Roger explained while inspecting the tree
“What happened?” You inquired following him around the tree your hand clasped in his with a loving squeeze.
“They delayed the flight because of weather, but the few flurries didn’t really cause an issue in the end. Did you lose the angel?” he prodded with a questioning tilt of his head. You had almost forgotten all about your goal of starting a tradition upon Roger’s arrival.
“No I didn’t lose it,” you glower at him jokingly. “I was waiting for you. I wanted you to be here.” a smile crept across your face with your eyes twinkling as you grabbed the angel and handed it to Roger. Turning back to the tree he stretched up and situated it atop of the pine. He began to shift his weight evenly back on to his heels when he froze. You made to ask him if he was alright when he spoke. “(Y/N)?” his voice faltered, eyes locked on the evergreen, and swallowed hard. The ornament. He let out a croak from deep in his throat as he couldn’t formulate any words. Your eyes widened and your lips parted slightly standing in partial shock. This wasn’t how he was supposed to find out. You had gone over countless versions of this conversation in your head, but now that you were actually having it you were at a loss for words.
“Roger,” you finally managed. Taking in a deep breath that seemed to hitch and get stuck in your lungs. “I’m pregnant.” you exhaled surprising yourself with the announcement. If he wasn’t already motionless before he sure as hell was now. His face held a very calm expression until his eyes slowly left yours to land on your stomach. After just a few seconds his expression melted and a smile crept across his lips as his eyes softened. In one swift motion his arms were around you once more and he let out cheers loud enough to annoy the neighbors. He spun you around and the weight that had been on your shoulders for the past few weeks disappeared in Roger’s arms. The release of pressure that had been weighing you down, pushed tears down your cheeks in steady streams. Roger placed you down gently and apologized thinking he hurt you, but you reassured him you were as happy as you could ever be.  Falling to his knees he threw his arms around your waist, pulled you in as close as he could get you, and placed his forehead against your stomach. Your fingers ran through his blonde lock making him hum a reflection of the same euphoric joy that was coursing through your veins. Tears continued down your cheeks, but you were far from sad. Anything but, exactly. The sense of excitement, bliss, and comfort of Roger finally being home is something you wouldn’t trade for the world.
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sunshinepeter · 6 years ago
Text
christmas eve car-rides
ao3
“Hey, Tony. It’s May.”
“As if I wouldn’t have my favorite aunt as a contact already.”
“Whatever. I am so sorry to call so close to the holidays, but I… Well, I kinda need a favor. And you still haven’t made up for the fact that you hid Peter’s Spider-Manning from me for such a long time, so you can’t say no unless you want to be seen as a real douche.”
“May, that was when he was fifteen. How many years ago? Four?”
“Tony.”
“Fine. What do you need?”
--
MIT and May’s apartment in Queens was an exact 3 hours and 17 minute drive.
As Tony pulled up outside the dorm building May informed him that Peter was in, Tony sighed, glancing at the clock and back at the door. Christmas Eve, and traffic was going to be a bitch. Tony was on the road from his own home at almost seven in the morning, and just arrived then, at almost noon. Which meant a stop for lunch before they even started going, and by one PM, the road was going to be awful.
But Tony couldn’t complain when he saw Peter Parker himself emerge from the dorm, inter coat wrapped tightly around him, timbs crunching snow beneath them, waving goodbye to someone else who had left the dorm. Tony was surprised to find people still at the dorms on Christmas Eve despite Peter.
Peter was supposed to get a flight out from Massachusetts the day before, but since the bad snow storm caused planes to be cancelled, couldn’t get onto another flight. And, May had to work until six that night, thus Tony Stark was picking Peter up for a mini road trip back to Queens, and back to Christmas.
“Hi!” Peter said as he opened the backseat and threw his duffel bag and backpack back there, before scurrying to get into the front seat. It had been a long time since the awkward teenager Peter Parker sat in the backseat while Happy or Tony was driving him. Now he shimmied down into the heated seat and smiled widely at Tony. “Thanks so much for driving all the way out here. I know it was probably really annoying and—”
“And completely worth it since I haven’t seen your chubby little college face since, what, October?”
“You literally saw me, like, two weeks ago, Mr. Stark.”
“But I didn’t see you, see you. Saying hi backstage for five minutes after a lecture? Not seeing you, kid.”
The kid smiled smally, buckling his seatbelt as they started driving, and instantly Tony broke the silence by saying, “I used to live there, in Next House when I was a kid here.”
They chatted aimlessly (Tony’s projects, Peter’s schoolwork, how much he misses Spider-Man patrol every night, etc.) until it was fifteen minutes later and Tony makes a sharp turn into McDonalds, which he would only allow on roadtrips.
Tony got a burger, fries, and a diet coke. Peter got an eight piece chicken nugget with a large fry and a kiddie meal cheeseburger and fries. And a vanilla milkshake.
“Look!” Peter held up the little toy that had come with it. Tony laughed openly, and Peter looked pleased with himself.
“So, besides schoolwork being a pain and missing Spider-Man, how are you adjusting to college?”
“Good. Boston is a lot slower than New York, but it’s still fun. My roommates are nice and all, but I still mostly hang out with Ned.”
“How’s Fred doing?” Tony asked, merging onto the highway.
“Ned is doing great, thanks.” Peter turned, looking out the window. From the major storm almost two days ago now, there were still piles of dirty snow piled on the side of the road. Some small snowflakes still fell softly around them, causing a gloomy grey atmosphere to surround them. Peter smiled to himself, breathing in deeply. The car smelled like Tony. He wasn’t sure what that exactly meant, it just did. It reminded him of his high school days, where he would spend days at a time with Tony, tagging along to science conferences, working in the lab, those few times he even stayed with Pepper and Tony. “How’s Morgan been?”
The three year old had a liking to Peter. Peter always babysat her when she was younger and he still lived near. She asked Tony on too many occasions if Peter was her brother.
“She’s good. Missing you a lot. Especially when you used to play with her upside down.”
Peter laughed, and nodded. “I miss her, too. Can I visit while I’m in New York?”
“I think Mor would be honestly offended if you didn’t, kid.”
Peter sipped his milkshake, still fiddling with the toy in his hand. Tony noticed his fingers had red nail polish chipping off them.
“When did you do that?” Tony reached over and grabbed his hand, examining the maroon. Peter pulled his hand back, self conscience.
“My roommates girlfriend did it one day while she waited for him to get back to the dorm. I didn’t really have a choice in the matter. Also nail polish remover smells super bad, especially someone who has intense smell.”
“It looks good.” Tony nodded.
“Thanks.”
The first hour was fine. A bit of traffic as they left the city, which was reasonable, but nevertheless okay.
Peter had, at some point in that first hour, plugged in his phone to charge and in doing so realized he could play music. So they were contentedly listening to Hamilton.
“How do you know all the words?” Tony asked, laughing as he watched Peter try to dance along (key word try) to the upbeat parts (it was him moving his head around and bouncing a little in his seat).
“Jus’ do. Listen to it too much, I guess.”
Two songs later, they were in a brief bumper to bumper traffic stop due to a crash, and Peter was furiously texting someone.
Tony suddenly felt like he couldn’t talk to the kid. It had been so long, and the kid had a new life in Massachusetts. The kid doesn’t need Tony anymore. Well, he never needed Tony in the first place, but it was nice for Tony to spoil him when he was in high school.
One hour, then two, and even after driving for almost three hours, they hadn’t even gotten halfway home. The snow was getting heavier, though not intense, and though there weren’t that many cars on the road, everyone was driving slowly, scared to spin off the road on ice or a frozen engine or brake.
“...Then, Ned completely downed the water, and made the face pretending it was really awful. It was so funny.”
“Sounds hilarious,” Tony smiled contently at the road, then glanced over at the boy, unsure. “Have you… Have you been drinking? Not water shots, but real shots?”
Peter looked to his lap, and before he responded, Tony quickly added, “It’s not a big deal if you are. I just… I want to make sure you are doing it responsibly. When I went to college, not that our experiences are in anyway the same, of course, I drank a lot. Too much. It was… I wish I had someone, an adult I mean, not just Rhodey, to tell me to hold it a little bit, and that the soft buzz from one was enough and the lifelong regret wasn’t worth the blackout.”
“I’m not drinking, Mr. Stark. I mean, at the start of the year I went to this party and decided to have one, but… it was disgusting,” Peter said, looking at Tony earnestly, then cracking a smile. “Alcohol isn’t for me.”
“Okay. That’s… alright. That’s good,” Tony smiled, glad his Peter wasn’t continuing down the same destructive blackout alcoholic path he had been on for so long. “That’s really okay. A lotta people don’t drink. I barely do anymore.”
“Do you think Morgan is going to like alcohol?”
“That girl is hyperactive enough, kid. And… Pep is most likely already preaching the badness of alcohol to her. I doubt she will, what with having to grow up with my past haunting her.”
It was a deep seeded fear of Tony’s, one that he rarely expressed to anyone other than Pepper, but also one that was no doubt going to come true at least a bit. Hell, it already had begun. When Morgan was born, it was almost instantaneously that Morgan was thrown into the spotlight, with articles and online news sites writing about the newest Stark, and how she will have to inherit the company, etcetera. Which wasn’t true in the slightest. If she went down the same path as Tony with mechanical engineering and showed an interest in wanting to run the company, then she would inherit it. If not, Tony would find someone else. He would never force her to inherit if she didn’t want to. Maybe Peter would be able to take it over. Or he could leave it to Harley. Who knows yet.
“That’s also kinda why I’m not gonna drink,” Peter said softly, suddenly looking sheepish and a bit nervous. “I mean, I get that it’s my choice and beer is honestly disgusting. But even if it wasn’t… I don’t want to let you down.”
“Peter…” Tony clapped his shoulder in a fatherly manor, then ruffled the boy’s curly hair. “You could never let me down.”
--
They finally arrived at the apartment at half past six.
“Thank you so much, Mr. Stark.” Peter had said this about four times on the road, but apparently felt the need to say it once more as they pulled up. Tony put the car in park, and smirked.
“Like I said, no issue. Lemme come up and say hi to May.”
Tony carried Peter’s backpack for him (“God, kid. How much does this weigh?”), and followed him to the stairs then to the apartment. He waved at someone outside a different apartment, who smiled back.
“Merry Christmas, Parker! Dile tu tia feliz navidad, yeah?”
“I will! Tell Alberto for me!” Peter held up a hand in respect, then knocked on his own apartment. He turned to Tony and sighed, “I think my key is buried in my bag.”
Tony just chuckled.
The door swung open, and May smiled widely, opening her arms widely. “Hello!”
Peter hugged her tightly, dropping his duffel ont he ground. Tony picked it up, and stepped inside past them.
“Hey, good you came up!”
Tony raised an eyebrow and turned to find Pepper sitting on the couch in the Parker’s living room, Morgan sitting on her lap chewing on something.
“Why are you here?”
“May’s car broke down at work. Wouldn’t start when she went on her lunch break. She called to ask if I could call a tow truck for her, and then I, sorry we…” She gestured to Morgan, who had perked up at Tony’s voice and was trying to climb off the sofa to get to him. “Picked her up. Just got here like, ten minutes ago. I decided to stay to see Peter!”
Peter had looked over at this point, and beamed.
“Hi, Pepper!” He said, jogging over quickly to give a tight hug. “And hi Morgan!”
“Petey!” Morgan screeched, now sidetracked from her quest to get to Tony and instead waddling her way over to Peter, grabby hands in his direction. “Up, up!”
Peter scooped her up, and planted a kiss on her cheek, which she giggled to. “Hi, Mor. Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas!” She yelled, but it sounded roughly like, “mewwy chrimmas”. Still adorable.
“Good to see you, Tony,” May said, also giving Tony a quick and light hug.
--
Pepper, Morgan, and Tony left two hours later, after eating dinner in the apartment and Pepper and Tony getting to watch Peter and May open the presents they had gotten them (an Apple watch for each of them, because that is a good gift even if not StarkTech goddammit).
Before they left, however, Tony made Peter come all the way downstairs to the car to get one other present he had for Peter.
Tony retrieved it from the trunk, and held it out to the boy. It was a faded red sweatshirt, with grey block letters of MIT on the front, outlined in black.
“This was a sweatshirt that Rhodey actually got for me the first Christmas I knew him. It doesn’t really fit me anymore, but… I thought you might want to have it. You know, since you go to the school and all. Plus, it could be like a sorta tradition. I got it my first Christmas at MIT, now you got it your first—”
Peter almost tackled Tony to the snow covered ground in a bone crushing hug.
“Thank you, Tony. I love it,” He said, holding it to his chest when they broke apart.
“Yeah, yeah,” Tony waved off the kid with a smile. He saw Pepper emerging from the apartment building with Morgan behind Peter. “You can wear it over your Spider-Man suit when you go patrolling in a few days. In case you get cold.”
Peter gave one last hug to Tony, then another one to Pepper and Morgan, and with one last wave darted inside.
Tony smiled softly, picking up Morgan, who was staring at the door Peter just went in.
“Where’s brother going?” She asked sadly.
“Don’t worry, Mor,” Tony said quietly, grabbing Pepper’s hand with his free one. “You will see him soon.”
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irepookie · 6 years ago
Text
Infinity Chapter 4-
Meet The Family (PT.1)
Summary: QUEEN AU where Rog (aka Rowan Queen) is a young single dad struggling to make it into music industry.
Warnings: not really. Just fluff, sappiness and swearwords here and there
Disclaimer: I don't own the pictures. The boys are based on Queen, but Piper, Gina and Callie are mine
John: Rick Lincoln (Cause he is John Richard Deacon born on August 19th 1951™™™™™)
Brian: Terry Garrett (Cause my uncle used to have a black puddle named Terry and I had no choice)
Freddie: Len Mars (Yea I couldn't help myself)
Chapter 4- Row opens up with the boys about the raisin.
“I'm a dad”........
"Okay, let's... let's get over this again: A daughter?" Terry, the band's guitarist couldn't believe his ears.
"Yes, Terry. A daughter" Row repeated for the 19th time from the other side of the phone.
"A baby." Len said, taking another sip of his tequila.
"No, a 30 year old alpaca." Row said sarcastically. "Yes, a goddamn baby. Fucking gorgeous, just so you know"
"And you're gonna keep her." Rick, who had been quietly plunking his bass' strings, added. "Are you sure?"
"It's done. I've already kept her. And it's not like I'm rescuing a shelter dog. She's mine. Period."
"Sorry, was just trying to... Wrap my head around it"
To be honest, Row still couldn't quite believe it (that he was a father). Not even now, as he tried to convince his best friends while holding his girl with the other arm.
"And is your mom okay with it?" Terry asked
He scoffed, clutching his Lil raisin close at the thought "My mom has no say in this".
"But she knows" Rick said.
He sighed "Yes, she knows. And she was a bitch about it, okay? She can disown me for all I care". It's not like there was much to inherit, anyway.
There was a general sigh from his three best friends.
"And what are you gonna do?"
" 'bout what?"
"Um, I don't know, man. About School? Maybe about your life in general?"
"School ain't something I'm worrying about".
"What a surprise" Rick rolled his eyes.
"But you're still in the band right?" Len said
"Oh, of course. Of course. You guys are gonna be the only ones keeping me sane"
They chuckled
"But we ain't gonna babysit for you, huh?"
"As if you knew anything about babies"
"Well, the same as you." Terry said
"Just what I was saying: nothing at all" Row grinned
"Her future looks bright, then" Len half teased.
"Incandescent, in fact" Row could pretty much hear Terry's arched eyebrow.
The youngest member could only roll his eyes and try not to take it as an insult. He knew this was a lot to process all of a sudden and that in the inside, beyond the sarcasm and teasing, they were happy for him.
"Whatever, guys" he replied, as Pips began to frown. He sighed, knowing that meant smelly treat was on its way "Gotta go. By the way, she just told me she thinks you guys stink" he grinned, before hanging up.
The other three men exchanged a confused glance, and stayed in silence for a minute, until Len broke it:
"I say he'll go completely nuts in seven days".
"That long? Nah, I think less than 24 hours after they leave the hospital." Terry said
Len smirked "Bet?"
"I'm a bit tight at the moment, pal"
"Then not money. If I win, you'll be my model for the midterm design project. It's 30's fashion. For ladies, of course".
"Ok. But if I win you'll do my chores for a whole weeks."
"A whole week?!"
"Seven days, if you prefer it."
They shook hands "Deal. Rick? Join us?"
"I actually rather believe that they'll be alright" Rick got up and stretched.
"Well of course they will. Eventually. Row always figures things out." T said
"The fun part is to watch him go crazy in the meantime" Len chuckled "Like when he first moved in and left a fork in the plate when first using the microwave"
They laughed, remembering how their friend had called them at 9 PM in panic, screaming the microwave had exploded.
"Let's just hope for the best. I mean he seemed quite sure of himself this time. And who knows, maybe being a dad is the best way to grow up." Rick defended
"Yea, well a bit radical, don't you think?" Len said
"Like sock therapy. If smokers quit when diagnosed with lung cancer, maybe Row settles down now he has a baby"
"I just still don't get why he didn't just put her in adoption" T said
Rick shrugged "Would you if you were in his shoes?"
"Absolutely"
"That's exactly how Row would've answered, say, a week ago. That's what we all answer. Until it really happens. I think it's one of those situations where you can't really picture until you live it."
"But this is Rowan Queen we're talking about. Rowan <<Made out with both Jones Twins at the same party Cause I didn't remember which was which>> Queen. I mean, he does know that a kid is gonna freeze his sex life for indefinite time, right? What the hell was going through his head?" Terry said
"I can't believe you think that." Len interjected "I mean, I'm the one who's never gonna be a dad here, and the one who failed biology, but even I get it. He met her right? Before any decision was made, he met her. Once you meet your kid, you're tangled up forever. And you might think you're not but if you give them away you'll never get rid of a feeling of remorse."
"Wow, Lenny, that was deep"
"Yea, where'd you get that from?"
"Just common sense."
"Funny, considering you're the one who's started the bet" Rick grinned
"One thing doesn't prevent the other. And out of the two of us, I'm the optimistic! He gave him one day, I gave him seven! I trust him"
"Well I'm not sure if I do. I mean, I love him, he's a great guy, a great musician, and everything else, but he's not reliable. Remember his first job as a waiter? I'm still waiting for the fish and chips I ordered last April"
The other two chuckled "I once lent him a t-shirt, and I swear I saw Liz Michael's wearing it" Len said
"See what I mean?"
"Yes, well, we can't do anything about it, T. It's his life"
"But this affects us too, one way or another. This affects the band. And he didn't even consult us"
"Well what did you expect him to do? Call and go <<Hey guys, are you fine with me having a daughter? No? Okay, just checking. Bye>>?" Rick imitated a phone with his hand, doing a decent impression of their friend's high voice.
"A head's up would have been nice"
"Terry, just chill for fucks shake. I mean, this is unexpected, but Row's our best friend, our brother, and we have to support him. Because, if he's a dad, that's makes us her uncle's. And it'll be fun having a little niece we can spoil" Len smiled at the idea.
"Spoil? With what money?" Terry, always realistic, put his hands on his hips
"With the upcoming tour's, of course darlings" he twirled majestically around the room
"First, that's in four months" Rick reminded
"If it does happen at all"
They still had one last song to arrange And record. Plus, they didn't know how Row was gonna make it work now he had a baby. But nobody addressed that concern out loud.
"Oh don't be so goddamn negative, fellas! C'mon! We're uncle's! Row's made a very important, life-changing, mature decision, and we should be proud of him. So" he went to the fridge and returned with three beers "I say we toast for him and the lil Queenie"
The other two grinned and accepted the cans, opening them.
"Oh, I say we Split a fourth beer in his behalf, cause parents shouldn't drink while breastfeeding" Terry mocked, earning a laugh
"To the Queens" Rick raised his can "For our little bro to take this seriously and not fuck this kid up"
"To the Queens" Terry and Len crashed theirs as well.
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Meanwhile, in the hospital...
"Goddamn it, raisin! How can someone so small produce so many colors of something so stinky?" Row exclaimed, holding his breath as he clipped the fresh nappy on his daughter "We only feed you milk! Like... Like white milk! How can you turn a white liquid into rainbow pudding? Holy shit" he held the dirty one at arms length and threw it in the bin "It's a damn good thing I love you, cause I won't do this for anyone else" he told her, lifting her up to his chest again before walking around the room
"You gonna be a good girl for me for the next eighteen years? Huh?" He kissed her chubby cheek "What am I saying? You're my daughter, of course you're gonna be a trouble maker. But we'll get along, you'll see. I ain't gonna be like my parents. Don't worry. I won't be a bloody pain in the ass like mom, and I will never ever do anything my old man did. That I can promise. But I gotta admit I do want you to be like Gina. Yea, she's a control freak sometimes, but let's face it: she's gotta be the strongest person I've ever met. You should've seen her kicking the bastard out the house. She took no shit."
He smiled somewhat proudly at the memory, and for a second forgot how mad he was at her for turning her back on them.
"You wanna be a badass gurl like her? Huh? Yes you do. Yes you do" he cooed, craning his neck so he could brush his nose with her little button one. Her fist chose to close around the nearest strands of blond hair on reach, which he found secretly adorable.
But a part of him did wish he had mom's support. After all, despite the rough patches through his teens, they had always had each other's back; through thick and thin. She had have to raise him all alone, and although he hadn't even begun with Pips, he already knew it hadn't been easy. She may be stern, and a bit inflexible when it came to negotiating allowance. She could come across as rude if you caught her in the wrong mood (which many neighbors had) but above all she was a good person and a good mother.
And looking back, he hadn't been such a great son. He could have been more responsible, less handful and more obedient. Less rebellious, too. He could have thanked her more often for the thousand things she did everyday. For the meals. For all the jobs she had taken to provide for the two of them. For the surprise birthday gift she had got him with the money she had been saving: a real drum kit. For helping him move out her house into that one room crappy appartement which would be Pip's home.
But still she had rejected Piper without a second thought, regardless of her anger towards him; Pips was her granddaughter, she had done nothing wrong and as her father, Row doubted he would ever forgive Gina.
He sighed, untangling the hand of his hair and bringing it to his lips "But you don't have to worry about all that. Just concentrate on staying strong and growing up. And I promise I'll focus all of me on being the best dad. That you'll never miss a mom cause you don't need one. You've got me and I swear I'll be enough. Even if I'm still young: I'll have it all more fresh won't I?" He grinned "You're the one person who's never judged me yet, and I don't wanna let you down"
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That a was vow. And he was determined to keep it.
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This one goes to my mega-paragraphist @definitely-darcy who's got my engine going through the usual inspiration blocks, and who's reviews help me improve. She's made me believe in this fic, and encouraged me to keep going despite the one digit notes.
Xx- Pookie
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let-it-raines · 6 years ago
Note
So a follow up to the baseball kiss cam prompt??? 😘⚾️🏟🎥
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And the great prompt-a-thon (that seems like an appropriate name for it or maybe the prompt project…that doesn’t have the same ring to it...prompt and circumstances?) continues! It’s Thanksgiving week here, and I’m currently sitting in my parents’ house looking out at the place where I grew up while other people watch my kid because they think running around with a toddler for hours is still a novel idea. lol. Anyways, the Kiss Cam prompt from last week strikes again thanks to several people but mostly @kmomof4 and this anon. Hope you guys think this one is a home run too :D 
“So can I hear the story of you getting a drink thrown on you? I feel like I know you well enough now to get that privilege of hearing of this bad date of yours.”
Killian’s drawing lazy patterns against her back, his nails leaving temporary marks as he moves across her skin. It’s got to be somewhere near four in the morning, the sun setting so long ago that it’s almost time for it to rise. After the game was over yesterday, Killian had offered to take her out to diner, but her sweater was absolutely soaked from the water Walsh had thrown on her, the damp material seeping into her skin and causing her to shiver as the temperature outside continued to cool. So he’d bashfully, scratching his ear the entire time while his cheeks reddened below his slight sunburn, offered to have her over to his place to change clothes and eat takeout since he lives near Fenway. Well, he’d actually phrased it as “So, Swan, my dugout or yours?” and she’d chosen his.
And him offering her a dry shirt pretty much got the ball rolling off the mound for them to fall into bed together.
And while they were there, there were no strikes. Only home runs, and at the end of each inning, a damn grand slam.
She’s going to talk and think in baseball innuendos for the rest of her life.
Or maybe just until she gets some sleep. She’s been up for almost twenty-four hours and has taken part in some rigorous activities in the past few of those. Totally worth it, but she’s starting to get delusional.
She hums when Killian moves his fingertips over her shoulders and up to the base of her neck, drawing lines right at her hairline that send vibrations through her boneless, sated body. “You tell me yours, and I’ll tell you mine.”
“Is this the getting to know you equivalent of you show me yours and I’ll show you mine?”
“Considering I’ve already shown you all of mine,” she turns her head to look at him, tracing her eyes up and down his still bare body, “and you’ve shown me all of yours, I think we can do the same for bad dates. Plus, you were a real live witness to an actual, historical bad date.”
“Me and a couple other thousand people. And a few million if they showed it on the television…which Liam tells me they did.”
Well, she was not expecting that. And she’d also totally blocked out the fact that her kiss with Killian had been seen by everyone in the stadium. J.D. Martinez probably saw her make out with Killian, and she’s just not sure how she feels about that…not that she personally knows Martinez. And who is she kidding? He’s trying to win the World Series. He doesn’t care about who she’s swapping spit with.
Strike that (strike out).
Swapping spit is a horrible way to describe a kiss. Martinez is trying to win the World Series, and he doesn’t care who she’s kissing…or stealing bases with. Okay, that’s a slightly better thought.
“Holy shit. Are you serious?”
“As the plague. You’re a bit of an internet sensation, Swan. Though no one knows who you are.”
“When did you even find time to talk to Liam?”
“While you were in the bathroom after round,” he counts his fingers, exaggerating his movements, and she rolls her eyes, “two. He’d texted me several, well, several different versions of ‘what the hell, brother’ and then links to a bunch of articles online. His job is more PR management for the team than anything else. So when we trended on Twitter, he was all over that.”
Holy shit. Did he just say they trended on Twitter? That is something she never thought would happen to her. Ever. That doesn’t even feel real. This entire day doesn’t feel real.
She doesn’t even have a Twitter.
Does that make this a…no hitter?
“Is he…is he going to release our names?”
She doesn’t think it would be the end of the world, but her friends are never going to let her live this down.
“No, though there’s no guarantee the masses of the internet won’t find us out. I’m a public servant related to someone who works for the team, and you’re supposedly a nutritionist. We’re online.”
“What do you mean I’m supposedly a nutritionist? I am one!”
He pokes her in the side, causing her to jump a bit, her stomach convulsing at the surprising warmth of his touch. “You ate half of a pizza tonight. That’s the exact opposite of what a nutritionist would suggest.”
“Yeah, but I don’t always eat like that, and I’ve gotten quite the workout today. And it’s like that hypocritical thing parents used to say. Do as I say, not as I do.”
“Fair point.”
He leans over to kiss her, and just as his lips touch hers, she remembers how this conversation started. “Hey, what was your worst date?”
“This one.”
She rolls her eyes, and she’s got to be dreaming. This isn’t her life. She’s never connected with someone this easily, and it has to be a dream. A really good dream. “Shut up. What was it really?”
“It was really this one, love. Because nothing is ever going to compare to it.”
What a smooth talker, and she’s totally falling for it…well, almost.
“That’s sweet and super cheesy, but I still want to know your actual worst date.”
He sighs before flopping down on to his back, the mattress bouncing under his weight while she lays down next to him, propping herself up on her fisted hand and pulling the comforter over the two of them to keep the fan from causing her skin to break out in gooseflesh.
“I was twenty seven and – ”
“Wait. How old are you now?”
“Thirty-two. You?”
“Twenty-eight. It was my birthday a few days ago. Go on.”
“Happy birthday, love.” He kisses her brow before settling back down in his spot, a soft smile gracing his face that causes butterflies to rise up in her stomach. “So I was twenty-seven, and my last serious girlfriend and I had just broken up. I wasn’t really ready to date again, but my mates were on my arse about it. So I asked a lass I knew through Liam out, and it was just…horrible. It’s not like anything dramatic happened where my date was an arsehole and ignored me, but I was still so upset and heartbroken that everything was doom and gloom. And she and I just had no connection. Like, none. We sat at a restaurant forever and didn’t talk for thirty seven minutes. I timed it because words were not forming in my mind. It was like torture. And then she asked me out again when we were leaving, and I had to turn her down.”
“Why would she ask you out again if it was so awkward?”
“No bloody clue. A glutton for punishment obviously. So do I get to hear the drink story now?”
“I was at a football game.”
“You obviously shouldn’t go to sporting events for dates, lass. Take me out to the ball game should not be a part of your song catalog.”’
He waggles his eyebrows before smirking at her, and she can’t help but reach over and playfully hit his shoulder. Their batting average with each other is not the best. Or maybe it is. She’s not sure how that works in this particular situation.
“Yeah, but then you wouldn’t have me in your bed right now.”
“Too true.”
“So I was at a game in college, and I, too, was starting to date again after a relationship. The guy I was with apparently had an ex who was pissed at him, so she dumped her drink on us. It was definitely an interesting experience.”
“Maybe one day I can take you on a date where you don’t get a drink spilled on you.”
She smiles, and her stomach does that thing with butterflies again. Maybe it’s fly balls if she’s sticking with the baseball theme, but that seems like it might be painful. She hopes that this isn’t painful.
“I’d like that.”
She leaves around seven in the morning after getting approximately an hour and a half of sleep, and while the night was a whole new ballgame to what she’s used to, she’s really feeling it now as she walks into the office in her jeans and her sweater from yesterday. She’s going to need all of the coffee in the building as well as the Boston area for how her body is dragging, and she just has to make it until four before she can go home. She can do that, can’t she? She’s survived worse, and she doesn’t have any appointments today, so she can avoid people.
Or at least she thought she could until her office phone starts ringing before she even manages to sit down.
“Emma Swan’s office. How may I help you?”
“Whoisthemanwhoyouwerekissingonthejumbotronyesterday?”
The words come out of Mary Margaret’s mouth so quickly that Emma almost can’t make them out, but she’s been interpreting her friend for years. Plus, she figured that before the world discovered who the girl was who made out with a stranger on television, Mary Margaret would see the video and call her. Crap, she didn’t even call to tell Mary Margaret about her date. She’s going to be so confused. And probably a little pissed.
“His name is Killian. Also, breathe, Marg.”
“What happened to Walsh?”
“He was an asshole. Why did you think I would like him?”
“He’s been nothing but nice to me.”
“Well, he was lying.”
Mary Margaret is silent for a few seconds, and Emma knows that she’s debating whether or not to follow up on the Walsh situation or to just drop it.
“So who’s Killian?”
So she tells Mary Margaret the story of how she met Killian, leaving out the part about going back to his apartment because as much as she loves her friend, she can be a little judgmental. She can’t talk long, as Mary Margaret did call her why she was at work (I knew you wouldn’t pick up if you could see the caller ID on your cell), so she gets out of having to share too much. The day passes like a game with extra innings. At one point, you just want it to be over. You don’t care how.
Okay, maybe she cares a little bit.
Ruby: So I hear you slept with the hottie you made out with on national TV. You want to tell me about his wood? His baseballs? There are two, right? 
Emma: How do you know that? And no.
Emma: I mean no to telling you about his baseball bat. There are definitely two balls, just to clarify.
Ruby: Mary Margaret read between the lines. Or the chalk or whatever. So did you round all of the bases?
Emma: I’m never talking to you again.
Ruby: Let me know before you get married in Fenway.
The next few days are pretty busy, her life getting back to normal, but she does text back and forth with Killian. They’re in that weird state of “hey we slept together and kind of talked about going on a date but we’re not really doing that.” So they just kind of text randomly throughout the days, making sure to update each other any time they hear or see something about the kiss cam make out and, of course, talking about the World Series. It’s after Boston wins game four that she gets her first call from Killian.
“Swan.”
“Jones?”
“Can you get Monday off of work?”
“Maybe. Why?”
“How would you feel about going to game five free of charge?”
“What?”
“My brother can hook us up with tickets. Says all we have to do is do a promo thing.”
“A promo?”
“Yeah, apparently they’re using us in promos and stuff, and he wants us to record a video. And then maybe you can see the Sox win the world series in person. And, you know, go to LA.”
Well knock her sox off. She doesn’t care if she’s used that pun before. It’s a good one.
“Killian, I’m not sure I can do that. I don’t really know you or Liam. This feels weird.”
“I’m not going to murder you, Swan. If I was, I’d have done it in my apartment where no one knew where you were.”
“Creepy.”
“I’m trying to make a point.”
“So it would cost no money? I’d just have to lose a bit more of my dignity?”
“Exactly.”
And that’s how she’s ended up sitting in the visitors’ locker room in the Dodgers stadium in LA decked out in Red Sox-provided team gear with Killian sitting right next to her as his brother interviews them, a camera with a bright light flashing in her face. She’s never been one to do spontaneous things like fly across the country to go to a baseball game with someone she barely knows, but really, how could she pass this up? It was a free plane ride, a free hotel room (she does plan on staying in her own room tonight, but things could change now that she’s with Killian again if she’s honest with herself), and a free ticket to what could be the Sox winning the World Series. So while it may not have been the most sensible decision in terms of, you know, safety, she doesn’t think she’s going to be murdered or something.
She at least hopes not.
The only murdering that’s going to be done is on the baseball field.
Okay, so maybe that’s a little violent, but she’s new at this trash talk thing.
The interview they do is, in one word, embarrassing. For one, she has to talk about how she met Killian and how she really did make out with him after knowing him for a few hours (obviously she leaves out what they did afterwards because…logic). There’s also a game played where she and Killian wear those headbands with little notecards on them and have to describe to each other which MLB team they are without saying the mascot, the city, or any of the words in the team’s name. But the real kicker is that Killian flirts with her the entire time while his brother interviews them. She’s meeting the guy’s brother, and while it’s not like he’s introducing her to his family because they’re seriously dating, it kind of feels that way. You know, if they weren’t in a locker room with a bunch of professional baseball players and their managers.
But it’s kind of fun once she gets over herself. Killian Jones is still the same man she met less than a week ago, and he puts little puns into their interview every time that he can. Whenever he messes up or curses, he says “strike that,” a giant grin on his face that cause her to giggle under her breath. At a point in the interview, Liam asks Killian if he has anything he’d like to say to Emma, and without any emotion in his face he said, “Are you in the outfield? Because you’re an angel.” Liam muttered “fuck you, Killian” under his breath, and they had to redo the entire scene from how hard they were all laughing. Okay, maybe not Liam. Apparently, Killian has annoyed Liam with baseball puns ever since he got this job.
She can respect that. She doesn’t have any siblings, but from what she can tell, they are incredibly close. Like their own little team.
Eventually she is allowed to be released from the torment of their little promo video, and she and Killian make their way to the box their seats are in. She’d rather be near the field, but is she really going to complain about watching game five or the World Series from a team suite?
Hell no.
She is going to complain, though, when the kiss cam finds she and Killian after the top of the second inning after showing the video they made earlier today on the jumbotron, and she already knows this was all Liam Jones’s doing. Maybe there will be a murder that’s not on the field.
“You don’t have to kiss me, love.”
She smiles before leaning over and pecking him on the lips as chastely as possible. She has a feeling this won’t be the last time the kiss cam finds them, so they might as well start off slow.
She doesn’t really want to start off slow.
“I mean, this is kind of like our second date, right? I obviously like you, even if my feelings on your brother are wavering.”
He laughs before nodding, and when his fingers intertwine with hers later, she doesn’t mind at all.
The kiss cam continues to find them throughout the rest of the game. No one has scored in three innings, so when she and Killian aren’t watching the game, they’re getting to know each other a little more. If you’re going to travel across the country with someone, you might as well get to know them. And she’s glad that the man she’s getting to know is Killian because he seems like a good man, nice and funny and like he won’t throw her screwball after screwball when she’s expecting a simple pitch straight down the line.
When the Sox win, she and Killian both go ballistic, jumping up and down and hugging everyone around them until Killian cups her face and kisses her like it was the two of them who actually played the game. If she’s on the jumbotron again, she doesn’t care. His lips are soft against hers, and her heart is so loud in her chest that she can’t hear anything else except for the groan that emanates from the back of Killian’s throat that she thinks she’ll remember for the rest of her life. Probably more than she’ll remember witnessing the Sox winning the Series, and that’s a pretty big deal.
This kiss seems like a pretty big deal, too.
“I hope you’re good at catching because I’m starting to fall for you.”
“How long have you had that one prepared?”
“About a day and a half, love.”
So Emma thought she’d always be someone who had bad dates, someone who never got to have that really good one that she remembered for the rest of her life. And then she had another horrible one which transformed into a great one that she and the internet will remember forever. And that great date turned into a year and three months of even better dates. Nothing ever topped getting to see the Sox win the series in terms of excitement, but when you love someone like she loves Killian, things like grand gestures don’t always matter. Every dinner date, whether that be out at a restaurant or in one of their apartments, is wonderful because they get to be together. She enjoys doing simple things like going to the movies, walking around the commons, exploring Boston and the surrounding areas, a yes, going to a few baseball games here and there. It’s not that things are perfect and that she and Killian don’t fight. They do. But they work through those things so that they can be better.
She’s happy, and Killian’s happy. That’s all that really matters to her.
Okay, so why Killian has her blindfolded and is walking her somewhere matters to her, too.
“Babe, where are we?”
“It’s a surprise, darling. We’ve been over this.”
“I know, but I don’t like being in the dark. Literally.”
He laughs, and she can feel him kiss her hair before moving to kiss her temple, his lips soft against her skin.
“Just a few more steps, okay?”
She’s got no clue where they are, but she knows the moment they go from being inside to walking out into the bitter chill of a Boston winter, the air nipping at her uncovered nose as Killian leads her to wherever they’re going. The ground stays solid until the feeling of grass is underneath her boots, but that doesn’t help her know where they are. Then, all of the sudden, Killian stops moving them and moves to stand behind her, his body heat invading her as his right hand finds purchase on her hip while his left hand takes off her blindfold while he rests his chin on her shoulder.
She’s in…they’re in Fenway park. A very empty Fenway park to be specific, standing on the pitcher’s mound, and Killian’s grabbing onto her left hand and pointing her arm just over one of the dugouts…where they met.
Oh. Ohhhh. Oh wow. This is…this is about to be a big moment, isn’t it? Her heartbeat starts pounding in her chest, the pace so rapid that she thinks Killian must be able to hear it, let alone feel it, and can she say yes right now? That’s what’s happening, right? Killian is about to propose. Why else would he get them alone on the field in the evening in the middle of January?
“So you see those seats right there, love?”
“I do. They look oddly familiar.”
“They do. You see, I met a girl in those seats, a girl who was on a horrible date. Not with me, of course.”
She chuckles under her breath, and she’s surprised she can even speak right now. “Of course not.”
“And this lovely lass spent an entire game with me, and near the end of it, she gave me the best bloody kiss of my life.”
“The best, huh?”
“Well, we’ve had some better ones since then, but I’ll remember that one forever.”
“Forever?”
“Aye, it’s on the internet, you see, and the internet is forever.” He kisses her cheek, his lips soft and warm in comparison to the hardness of the bristles of his scruff and the iciness of the air. “You know what else is forever?”
“Tattoos that you get when in college and are too scared to remove?”
“Not what I was going for, but that’s true in case of you and your buttercup.”
“What were you going for then?”
She knows, but he’s obviously planned this thing out. Who is she to do anything but play along? Killian releases her waist and her arm before turning her and getting down on one knee, a bright smile on his face even if his hand shakes a bit when he reaches into his jacket, a small black box emerging with his hand.
“I was going for marriage, specifically between you and me. So what do you say, Emma Swan? Will you marry me?”
She doesn’t even hesitate. “Yes.”
He doesn’t get a chance to slide the ring onto her finger before she’s pulling him off the ground and slamming her lips into his and wrapping her arms around his neck. Killian almost immediately moves to pick her up, allowing her to jump into his arms and wraps her legs around his waist, the ring box digging into her ass. It’s so much like their first kiss, but this is better. So much better.
“I love you so damn much, Killian.”
“I love you even more, Emma.”
“You just have to one up me, don’t you?”
He almost drops her then, a small scream emanating from her lips until he gently places her on the ground, letting go of her so that he can finally slide the ring on her finger…sliding it home.
That’s a baseball pun she’s okay with.  
“Well, I’ve got to make sure I’m never one of your bad date stories.”
“You won’t be.”
It’s only later that she realizes that Killian proposed to her with a diamond inside of a baseball diamond.
She’s okay with that, too.
And that’s a ball game.
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