#I’m happy July is finally here and I’m going on vacation next weekend

[wigglebox]

Summer fun 🏝️

[kjmsupremacist]

something sweet, a peach tree (mark/jaehyun)

Mark begins the summer after his junior year with an unpaid internship and no other plans. But when he agrees to go pick his baby niece up from her music lessons, her teacher, Jeong Jaehyun, catches his eye. Too bad he’s off limits, and not just because Mark’s niece is involved. Jaehyun is 41 to Mark’s 20.

To sate his curiosity about older men, Mark decides to look into becoming a sugar baby. He could use the money, after all. And he seems to find a willing patron right away. But for the first time in Mark’s like, he finds he might be in over his head.

Chapter 6   |  prev   next   mlist

Characters: Mark, Jaehyun, other members of nct throughout

Genre: romance, angst, smut, age gap, sugar daddy!au

Pairing: Mark/Jaehyun

Warnings: AGE GAP (older jaehyun, younger mark), alcohol and vomit mentions

Rating: Explicit/Mature we're toeing the line here

Length: 6.4k

July passes quickly and without consequence. Mark’s life is pretty much the same—weekdays spent in the office, weekends with Jaehyun. His birthday falls on a Friday, so he’s going to James and Annie’s for dinner, and then out for drinks with Johnny and Yuta and Ten. Jaehyun was the first out of everybody he knows to wish him a happy birthday, the text coming in right at midnight. Mark is trying not to think about it, because it’s making him kind of giddy, and he doesn’t want to have to explain himself.

James picks him up from work, AC blasting in his Prius. “Mom made me promise we’d call,” he warns as he pulls out into traffic. “So I’m gonna get us together for that as soon as we get home, before Lucy gets too tired.”

“Sounds good,” Mark says, amused. 

“Speaking of Lucy,” James continues, “I was hoping to take Annie on a little vacation next weekend. Just one night, we’d leave Saturday morning and be back Sunday afternoon. Think you could watch her for us?”

“If you pay for our food,” Mark agrees. “And pick me up and drop me off.”

“Fair enough,” James says, shaking his head. “You’re hired.”

Mark laments the lost time with Jaehyun in his head, but he can’t really put his heart in it. It’ll be fun to hang out with Lucy, and she goes to bed early so he can stay up playing video games or something. Besides, Mark likes Annie, so he has to help his brother do something nice for her. 

Deals struck, they spend the rest of the car ride chatting about Mark’s birthday plans. Johnny said he had an itinerary for them but wouldn’t tell Mark what it was, and Yuta and Ten both seemed pretty excited, so Mark’s a little nervous.

“I’m kind of scared they’re taking me to some crazy strip club or something,” Mark says. 

“If they are, don’t call me to come pick you up because I’m just gonna laugh my ass off,” James says, grinning, as he pulls into his driveway.

Lucy is at the door with her mother, telling Mark happy birthday as soon as she lays eyes on him. “Eomma said you’re—twenty-one,” she says. “You’re way bigger than me.”

“I think that’s the nicest way to be called old,” James says with a laugh. “Believe it or not, Luce, you’re gonna be twenty-one someday, too!”

Mark takes her hand. “I’d rather be three than twenty-one,” he says. “Three’s a good age.”

“Three’s the best age,” Lucy agrees firmly. “‘Til I’m four, and then four’s the best, and then five…” 

Annie brings dinner to the table while James tries to figure out where he wants to put his iPad for the call. Finally, he settles on leaning it up against the napkin holder on the far side of the table and calls their parents.

“Happy birthday!” his parents burst out in unison as soon as the FaceTime connects. 

“Thank you,” Mark says with a grin.

They chatter about his life, how work’s going, if he’s ready for school in the fall. His dad tells him they’ve sent him a little care package that should arrive in a couple days.

“What are your plans for tonight, Mark?” his mother asks. “Oh, do you have someone special to take you on a date?”

“No, I’m just going out with some friends,” Mark says over Lucy’s giggling. 

“Aw, that’s good, but I hope you can find someone soon!” his mom presses. “James and Annie were already together at your age. Our Mark is so smart and handsome, I’m sure plenty of boys are interested!”

“Ugh, Eomma, I’m busy with school, I’m not like James. He had himself figured out.” Mark makes a face at James across the table, trying to ignore the strange stinging in his chest. “I can barely manage myself, how am I supposed to manage somebody else?”

“But you’re all alone,” his mother protests. “We worry about you!”

Mark knows she means well, and normally this kind of questioning honestly wouldn’t bother him. He’s fine not having a partner. Except… he thinks of Jaehyun. It’s not exactly true now, that he’s alone. And Jaehyun is going to be the reason he’ll remain publicly single for the foreseeable future, at least. But he’s not the same as a real boyfriend. He never will be. Because even if Mark and Jaehyun could work something out, how on earth would he tell his parents? They’d never accept it. Would they? “I have my friends,” Mark says instead, but it sounds a little flat to his own ears. “I’m fine, really.”

“Mark’s independent,” his father chimes in, saving him. “He’ll settle down when he’s ready.”

They exchange a few more pleasantries, the parents asking after Lucy. Mark lets her steal the spotlight, mind darkening with thoughts of the future and not quite able to focus on the bright conversation at hand. He does tune back in to finally say goodbye with a promise to call soon, and they’re left to dig into their cooling dinner.

Once they eat, Mark helps James clear the table while Annie runs to “get a surprise” from upstairs. James pulls Mark’s cake out of the fridge, along with numbered candles, a two and a one. The cake is a red velvet from Mark’s favorite bakery with pale blue frosting—James said he realized only after it was going to look like the American flag, but that he was more focused on getting a flavor Mark liked and his favorite color.

“It’s fine, man,” Mark says, grinning. “Thank you anyway.”

“Here, open this first,” Annie says. “Your friends will be here any minute, and I think they’ll want to participate in singing Happy Birthday.”

“This” turns out to be a very pretty hardcover anthology of Edgar Allen Poe’s poetry and short stories. Mark flips through it, genuinely touched. “Thank you,” he says, looking up at them. “This is going in a place of honor on my bookshelf. Can I leave it here tonight?”

“Of course,” Annie says, laughing, accepting it back. 

“We were originally looking at some nice first-edition books,” James says. “You know, like those rare ones. But they require special care and storage, which I don’t think you have access to quite yet.”

“Yeah, I appreciate the thought but I’m glad you didn’t,” Mark says fervently. “I think the responsibility would’ve given me a heart attack.”

Just then the doorbell rings, and when Mark answers it, Johnny, Yuta, and Ten are waiting. “Just in time for cake,” he says with a grin, leading them inside.

The candles are still lying haphazardly on the table next to the cake. “You’re turning twelve?” Johnny asks sarcastically.

 “Dude,” Mark says, rolling his eyes over Yuta’s shoulder as he’s squeezed into a hug.

James puts the candles on the cake (in the correct order) and then lights them while Annie flicks off the lights. They all sing Happy Birthday, with Ten egging Lucy into doing some silly additions at the end, and then Mark blows out the candles and the lights come back on so they can slice out the cake.

“So where are you guys off to tonight?” Annie asks.

“Top secret,” Johnny replies. “But we promise we’ll get him home safe.”

Mark kinda feels like a little kid all of a sudden. He forgets sometimes that Johnny and Yuta and Ten are all around James’ and Annie’s age despite the fact that they’re Mark’s friends. He takes a bite of cake. He thinks maybe he’s always going to be in a hurry to grow up.

The cake is eaten, and Lucy’s getting tired, and the bus is coming soon anyway, so they head out without too much more fanfare. The sun is working on setting, so the air is cooling but still hot. Yuta slings an arm over Mark’s shoulders as they make their way down the sidewalk. “Ready for your big night?”

“I’m getting more and more terrified by the minute,” Mark replies, which makes the other three laugh. 

“We’re just taking you out to our favorite bars,” Johnny reassures him, though his grin still seems a little too wild. “We’ve just never really seen you out and about! It’s different from those little college parties we go to.”

“I’ve been out drinking before,” Mark grumbles, but he knows going to the bar for a drink with James on his nineteenth birthday in Vancouver is not the same as going out clubbing here, now.

“You have your passport, right?” Ten asks.

“Yep,” Mark says, patting his pocket. “Which I’m sure isn’t going to score me any points.”

“Maybe it’ll make you look exotic,” Johnny says.

“Or just like a fuckin’ loser,” Mark grumbles. “You all have your licenses.”

“Well, you can fix that anytime, honey,” Ten points out, and Mark just gives a groan of defeat.

They pile onto the bus, collapsing into the four-across sideways seats that are elevated over the center of the first section, Mark on one end with Johnny next to him. While those two chat, Johnny ducks his head and asks, real quiet, “How are things with the DILF?”

Mark jabs him with his elbow; Johnny doesn’t react. “They’re fine,” he hisses. “He hasn’t tried to murder me yet.”

Johnny wiggles his eyebrows. “You seeing him this weekend?”

“I told him maybe tomorrow, if I don’t feel like shit,” Mark replies. “So don’t try to get me wasted. Now shut up, if those two find out, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Johnny actually listens to him for once, and the rest of the bus ride is peaceful. Ten pulls the stop wire, and they get off on a busy street. Mark doesn’t see their destination at first, but finally zones in on an unassuming bar down the street.

Yuta notices the look on his face. “We’re starting you off easy,” he explains. “Can’t expect you not to bolt if we just threw you right into one of those gay clubs where everyone is naked.”

“We’re going to a gay club where everyone is naked?” Mark asks, looking down at his shorts and t-shirt combo.

“They have a coat check,” Ten says cheerfully. “And I brought something for you.” He points at the fanny pack that Johnny has clipped across his chest.

Mark doesn’t know if he likes the sound of that, especially not if it can fit in there, but he has to admit a small part of him is excited, too. Maybe with a few drinks running through his system, the excitement will win out. 

This bar, though, is busy but not crowded, well-lit enough that Mark can see where he’s going, and casual. They order a round—beer for Johnny, mixed drinks for the rest—and sip on them. Mark looks around the bar, seeing couples, groups of friends, the occasional loner. He wonders if Jaehyun has been to this bar. It’s a little under his general lifestyle now, but when he first came to Seattle, he was poor, and could’ve easily ended up here. The bar definitely looks old enough, far more than that. He’s not sure those sprinklers are up to code.

Mark gives himself a shake. However ominous his friends’ plans seem, he’s here to have fun with them. He can’t do that if he’s letting the ghost of Jaehyun’s younger self haunt him up and down the streets. He takes a long pull of his drink, earning himself a cheer from Ten. 

The next bar they go to is a little more upbeat, but there’s not a dance floor, so Mark guesses their plan is to get him pretty drunk before entering an actual club. That’s fine. He slams back another mixed drink and finishes Johnny’s beer when he decides he doesn’t like that one and goes to get another. By the time they leave their third bar, Mark’s definitely solidly buzzed, whatever padding he had from dinner gone. 

Good timing, too—the next place is a club, and they get carded at the door, pay a cover fee, and get their hands stamped before being allowed in. Ten drags him to the bar, where he is apparently recognized. Over the pounding music, he points at Mark and shouts something about it being his twenty-first birthday. 

In an instant, tequila shots are poured for all of them and a lime wedge is shoved into one of Mark’s hands while a small pile of salt is collecting on the back of his other one. Mark screws his eyes shut, licks up the salt, and takes the shot, chasing it quickly with the lime so he can convince his taste buds that everything is fine. 

“An extra one for the birthday boy,” the bartender says with an easy smile, passing Mark something else, which he balks at.

“Don’t be a baby, it’s a green tea shot, it’s yummy,” Ten goads, and, fuck, Mark’s being offered free drinks, and he’s always been a sucker for peer pressure, so he throws that one back, too. As soon as the glass is back on the counter, Ten is chirping a thank-you to the bartender, saying something about getting Mark laid tonight, and dragging him out to the dance floor.

“Ten, I’m not going home with anybody. Or bringing anybody home,” he shouts as they push through the crowd. 

“Oh-kay,” Ten singsongs, turning when he finds an open spot at pulling Mark close to dance. Johnny and Yuta appear on either side, so Mark is trapped. “But you can at least have a little fun. Dance with someone. Kiss someone! It’s your birthday!”

The only person Mark really wants to be kissing is Jaehyun. Jaehyun. It’s not like they’re exclusive. They’ve never even tried to discuss what they are. Jaehyun’s never made any indication that he’d mind, but… as far as Mark knows, he’s the only person in Jaehyun’s life right now. So it feels a little unfair.

He extricates himself from Ten’s hands. “Promise I’m not running away,” he says when he gets some concerned looks. “I just have to piss.”

He weaves his way out of the crowd and finds the bathroom. It’s dinky and gross, but whatever. He locks himself in a stall in case one of his friends follows him in, and then opens his text thread with Jaehyun.

hey, this is bad timing but I’m out with my friends like I said and I guess I never thought to ask if you’re cool with me like dancing with other guys and stuff? <;<<

I know it’s not like we’re actually dating or whatever but I thought I should ask <;<<

Jaehyun’s response comes pretty quick.

>>> Don’t worry about me baby

>>> It’s your birthday. Have some fun!

Mark chews his lip, looking over the message. Somehow, it’s not what he wanted to hear. He wanted… he wanted Jaehyun to say no. He wanted Jaehyun to say he was his, and no one else’s. But, he reminds himself with a pang in his chest, they don’t belong to each other. 

okay, if you say so! <;<<

I’m not sleeping with anybody else though. Promise. <;<<

He can practically hear Jaehyun’s soft laughter in the next reply.

>>> You don’t have to promise that

>>> But okay :) have a good night and stay safe! call me if you need anything

Thanks <;<<

It makes Mark feel worse, honestly. He pockets his phone and goes to wash his hand so he doesn’t look like a weirdo, and then heads back out to the dance floor to find his friends. What did you expect, dumbass? he berates himself as he excuse me, sorrys his way through the crowd. Of course he doesn’t mind. You’re just fucking. There’s no reason for him to be possessive or emotional about it. So neither should you.

By the time he spots Johnny’s head over the sea of people, he’s resolved to forget all about Jaehyun tonight. Fine, if Jaehyun doesn’t care who he kisses or who he fucks, then Mark won’t turn anyone down tonight. He’ll prove to Jaehyun (and himself) that there are other people out there for him, and that he’s just feeling a little attached because Jaehyun’s the only person he’s fucked in the last year or so. Not because it’s real. 

“Thought you really had run out on us,” Yuta shouts with a grin when Mark joins them. 

“Nah, I just couldn’t figure out the drawstring on these!” Mark shouts back. “My fingers don’t work when I’m drunk!”

Not too long after, some pretty boy comes up and asks Mark to dance with him. Mark accepts, peeling away from his group a little so they can have some privacy. Mark doesn’t catch his name but pretends he hears him after he repeats himself for the second time.

“I saw you guys chatting with the bartender!” The guy shouts. “I’ve never seen you here before.”

“No, it’s my friend that knows him,” Mark replies. “I haven’t been before.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“It’s my twenty-first birthday,” Mark explains.

“Oh,” the guy says with a smile. He leans in closer. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” Mark says, leaning in, too, and kisses him. 

And it’s fine. Good, even. But he’s still thinking of Jaehyun when they pull away, and with that comes a sort of sobering disappointment. Mark tries to brush it aside. One kiss isn’t going to fix you, he thinks. You have to keep going.

“What?” The guy looks a little confused, and Mark realizes he’s kind of just been looking at him.

“Nothing,” Mark says. “D’you wanna go get another drink?”

The night kind of blurs from there. Mark doesn’t black out, per se, but he definitely loses track of time and becomes quite malleable. He lets his friends whisk him on to the next club, and the next, dancing with strangers and making out with a fair number, too. It gets a little better, but nothing sparks in his stomach the way he’s kind of hoping it does.

They reach the club Ten was talking about. He strips to booty shorts and a fucking hot pink bikini top, because of course he does, and shoves a black crop top and matching shorts into Mark’s hands. It’s not atrocious, so Mark changes, since he doesn’t fit in here in his own clothes. Yuta’s literally wearing a jockstrap and a tiny leather vest, which Mark is honestly kind of impressed by. Johnny, on the other hand, simply takes off his shirt to reveal a harness across his chest and back.

“What the fuck?” Mark asks, and Johnny just grins and saunters off to coat check.

The lighting is dark blue-purple and sexy, and everyone is just as naked as Mark and his friends, so he quickly loses his self-consciousness. Besides, Mark knows he’s hot, and this is confirmed by the number of people that put their hands on him in the span of the next half an hour or so, offering to buy him more drinks. He lets himself get lost in it, giving out kisses freely, even guiding the hands lower when he likes the person they’re attached to.

But even through the weird lust-haze and alcohol, Mark still feels kind of empty. Not in a bad, hollow way, necessarily, just a little lonely. This is fun, and these guys are hot. But they’re not Jaehyun. 

Finally, when Mark nearly trips over himself on the way to the bathroom, Johnny calls it a night. He retrieves their clothes and they gather in the bathroom to get changed before figuring out how they’re getting home. 

Mark is a short bus ride away, so Johnny offers to come with him to make sure he makes it home while Ten and Yuta try to figure out Ubers. 

“It wasn’t too much, was it?” Ten asks, slurring a little. “You had fun?”

Mark can honestly say that he did, despite his inner turmoil, so he nods. “Yeah, Tennie,” he says, trying and failing to get Ten’s face to focus. “I had fun.”

Ten gives him a happy kiss on the forehead before they head outside. Yuta takes Mark by the elbow so he doesn’t trip on the stairs, and then they’re out in the cool night air. Johnny and Mark wave goodbye to the other two and hurry down to the nearest bus stop.

“You weren’t lying to Ten?” Johnny asks. “You really had fun?”

“Yeah,” Mark says earnestly, or at least as earnestly he can when he’s not really sure what his own voice sounds like. “I think ‘m the right amount of drunk. Wouldn’t do it every weekend, but I get the appeal.”

Johnny grins, ushering him onto the bus and into a seat. “Think your DILF will mind?”

This sobers Mark somewhat. “I know he doesn’t,” he says.

Johnny blinks, surprised. “You okay?”

“I texted him to ask,” Mark explains. “If he would mind. And he just… told me to have fun.”

“That’s good, right?” Johnny asks, now thoroughly perplexed.

“I guess,” Mark mumbles. “I just—I dunno. Thought maybe he would care more.”

“Don’t tell me you’re catching feelings,” Johnny says.

“No,” Mark refutes quickly, then shakes his head. “I dunno. Maybe.”

“It’s not gonna end well, man.” Johnny’s voice has gentled, and Mark thinks that might break him. “Hey. Look at me.” Mark peeks up miserably. “You, Mark Lee, are young and hot and cool, and you can do way better than some random middle-aged guy. No matter how good of a fuck he is. Or how much money he has. Okay?”

Mark sighs and nods. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Johnny reaches up for the stop wire. “Want me to stay the night? Keep an eye on you?”

Mark shakes his head. “Nah, it’s okay. I’m not that drunk. Mostly just tired. I don’t think I’m even gonna puke.”

“Good.” Johnny leads him outside and walks him down the street to his building, all the way up to the front door. “Then have a good night.” He opens his arms for a hug and Mark accepts. “And happy birthday, man.”

“Not my birthday anymore, it’s like three a.m.,” Mark argues into Johnny’s chest. Johnny laughs.

When Mark gets up to his room, he immediately just strips and heads into the shower to get the layer of everyone else’s sweat off his skin. As the water’s heating, he unlocks his phone and finds it still open to his texts with Jaehyun.

I miss you <;<<

wish it was you tonight instead <;<<

He’ll probably regret it in the morning, but right now he’s too drunk and tired to care. He sets his phone on the counter and steps into the steaming shower. 

When he gets out, a single text is waiting for him.

>>> Go to bed, baby. I’ll see you tomorrow

Mark leaves his phone there, the text unanswered, flicks off the lights, and collapses naked into bed. Despite the spins that threaten to overtake him, he’s asleep within minutes.

///

Mark wakes with a dry mouth, a pounding headache, and the dull but insistent push of nausea in the back of his throat. He rolls out of bed with a groan and shuffled into the bathroom to gag into his toilet. Most of what comes up is burning liquid, and once he’s done, he does feel better, though the headache persists. 

He lets himself rest on the floor by the toilet for a few minutes before getting up to swish with mouthwash, since brushing his teeth is going to require hand-eye coordination that he currently does not possess. He checks his phone, which is cheerily displaying the ungodly time of 7:13 a.m., and doesn’t see any new texts.

Mouth sufficiently washed, Mark slaps around the medicine cabinet for some Advil and takes two of those with a handful of water right out of the tap, then drags himself back to bed. He crawls under the covers and knocks right back out. 

The next time he wakes up, it’s to a significantly weaker headache, no nausea, and full body aches. He lies there, weighing the merits of just dying right here and decomposing, but ultimately decides against it because Chenle’s parents don’t deserve to clean up that kind of mess. He scoots out of bed, uses the bathroom, and checks his phone while he actually brushes his teeth. 

He reads over his texts with Jaehyun last night and groans. Stupid, stupid, stupid, he thinks, rinsing out his mouth and cleaning his toothbrush. He takes a couple more Advil and then decides he should probably get some food in his stomach while he considers what to say. 

sorry about that ^ haha 😅 <;<<

about all of it really <;<<

It takes Jaehyun the time it takes for Mark’s bread to toast to reply. 

>>> All good! How’s the hangover?

>>> Think you could meet me for brunch?

Mark munches on his plain toast, contemplating. 

hangover was worse this morning, I’m better now <;<<

but yeah give me like an hour or two <;<<

>>> Okay, see you at noon!

Mark gets himself a glass of water and then flops down on his couch, taking sips of the water and small, tentative bites of his bread. It settles his stomach even more. Maybe he’ll actually get to enjoy brunch.

After letting his body adjust to being awake for a bit, he finally gets up and gets himself ready. Takes a quick shower to get the vomit-sweat off. Brushes his teeth again. Tries to style his hair. Gets dressed in something he hopes is brunch appropriate. By the time Jaehyun texts to say he’s outside, Mark almost feels like a person again.

“Hey, baby,” Jaehyun says with a sympathetic grin. “How’re you feeling?”

“Like I got run over by a semi and also poisoned,” Mark replies, dropping into the passenger seat. “Mostly fine, though.”

Jaehyun laughs. “Good twenty-first?”

“Could say that,” Mark replies, thinking of all the boys he kissed. He wants to tell Jaehyun about it. He wants to say I met so many people last night and they were all great but they weren’t you. He wants to say why didn’t you care who I was kissing? Why don’t I matter to you? He wants to say is it allowed that I let you matter to me? “Where are we going?” he asks instead. 

“One of my favorite brunch spots,” Jaehyun says. “I made a reservation last week, figured it might be around this time. It’s casual but popular.”

Maybe Jaehyun cares more than Mark gives him credit for. He made a reservation last week. Clearly, he’s been thinking about it. “Sounds good,” he says genuinely. 

The restaurant is, in fact, crowded, with a long line of people waiting to put their names down. They’re taken to a small table near the back and left alone. Mark’s not sure he should go for anything partially cooked, or anything overly sweet, so he settles on a small plate of scrambled eggs and bacon with potatoes, and stresses to their server that the eggs be well-cooked. Jaehyun laughs at him over the rim of his water glass.

“I remember my twenty-first birthday,” Jaehyun says, grinning. “I was in much worse shape than you the next day, so good job.”

“What did you do?” Mark asks, intrigued.

“Well, like you, I was from a place where I could legally drink earlier, so it wasn’t my first time having unrestricted access to alcohol,” Jaehyun says. “But unlike you, I suffered delusions of grandeur and thought I could take on that stupid twenty-one bar challenge.”

“Like, go to twenty-one bars and have a drink at each?” Mark asks, wrinkling his nose when Jaehyun nods sheepishly. “I had maybe like seven or eight drinks last night, and I think that was one or two too many. So did you make it to twenty-one?”

“God, no,” Jaehyun says. “I blacked out at like maybe twelve, and my boyfriend at the time later told me I had a few more after that before promptly vomiting them back up onto the sidewalk. At least we were outside.” 

Mark is struck with the sudden and sharp reminder that Jaehyun has lived a whole life before him. He had boyfriends when he was younger, boyfriends he loved. He’s probably had his heart broken more than once. There’s a clawing hunger in Mark’s chest to know more, to know it all, to peel back all of Jaehyun’s layers until he’s seen every last one, to lave over his most secret parts with his own tongue—and there’s fear, too; fear that he might not like what he finds, and worse, fear that he will like it, fear of his own hunger and what it might mean.

“What were you like?” he asks quietly. “When you were my age? Did you go out with your friends like that often?”

Jaehyun laughs, shaking his head. “No, I was always sort of shy and soft-spoken. I liked going out, but only if people I knew were there and only if I could get home quickly.”

Mark can imagine it. Jaehyun’s face, bright and fresh with youth, skin smooth and free of smile lines. The flush of his cheeks. The same silly laugh. He imagines him in the corner of some bar, arms crossed over his chest with a beer in one hand, tucked against his bicep. Watching his friends quietly. He imagines a red-faced and drunk Jaehyun knocking back shots amid cheering. Stumbling out onto the street and vomiting unceremoniously at his own feet. The pinch of his eyebrows. The sweat on his hairline. Mark’s heart feels like it’s been beat flat with a meat tenderizer. He gives Jaehyun an unsteady smile. “I can’t imagine you any other way,” he says.

“So, anyway, obviously the next morning I was in the worst pain I’d ever been in in my life. I spent well into the afternoon alternating between sipping a little water and going to throw it back up again,” Jaehyun continues as their food arrives. “Thank you. At one point, my friends were considering just taking me to the hospital because I was so dehydrated. I told them to wait until the evening, and I’d go if I wasn’t better by then, because I was so embarrassed and I didn’t want my parents to find out I’d been so stupid.” Jaehyun shakes his head ruefully. “Lucky for me, by around three or four, I was able to keep a cup of water down. I swore up and down I’d never drink again, but… you know how that goes.”

Mark nods, popping a potato in his mouth and making a noise of appreciation. As usual, Jaehyun’s found a great spot. “That’s kind of hilarious,” he says. “I’m glad you didn’t die.”

“Yeah, me too,” Jaehyun giggles. “I am proud to say that’s the last time I’ve blacked out from drinking, and one of the last times I ever threw up from drinking, so at least I learned my lesson kind of.”

“That is impressive,” Mark says. “I know logically my limit is about six drinks, but somewhere around drink five I get convinced I can do like five more, and it all just goes downhill from there.”

“Did you blackout last night?” Jaehyun asks curiously.

“I don’t think so,” Mark says, and then remembers his texts to him and cringes. “I am sorry about those texts from like three a.m. I literally remember thinking, like, I’ll probably hate myself in the morning, and then sending them anyway. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

Jaehyun shakes his head, laughing. “No, I was up late doing some work,” he says. “Don’t worry about it. They definitely could’ve been worse. All you said was that you missed me, which is fair. I’m pretty great.”

Mark groans. “Still, it was kind of pathetic of me,” he mumbles, stabbing at the last of his potatoes.

“Well,” Jaehyun says, chasing a blueberry around his plate with his fork. “You’re young. You’re allowed to be a little stupid. It’s okay, really. I think I’m flattered that I’m the one you’re drunk-texting.”

“Who else would it be?” Mark asks without thinking. 

Jaehyun blinks at him. “I don’t know,” he says evenly. “I don’t know what you do when you’re not with me.”

And you don’t care, Mark thinks bitterly, and then mentally smacks himself for being childish. “Please, I don’t have time for anybody else,” he says, keeping his tone light. “My god, I almost forgot. Me and James called our parents last night so they could wish me a happy birthday, and my mom started interrogating me about who I was dating since James and Annie were, like, already engaged at my age. Most unserious conversation I’ve had in a while.”

Jaehyun gives him a weary smile. “I hope I’m not keeping you from people your age,” he says.

Mark waves him off. “I’m telling you what I told my mom. I can barely deal with my own shit. Dealing with someone else is off the table.” Jaehyun gives him a weird look. “You don’t count, I don’t have to deal with you. You take care of me.”

Jaehyun’s expression morphs back into a smile, this one markedly less weary. “I certainly try,” he says. He nods at Mark’s nearly empty plate. “Ready to head out?” 

Mark nods. Jaehyun pays, and they gather their things and pick their way through the maze of tables towards the door. Mark slips into the passenger seat and Jaehyun starts the car. There’s a natural ease to it that, even though Mark’s weird tumultuous feelings, he finds comforting. 

“I think we would’ve gotten along,” Mark says. “If we were the same age and met in college.”

Jaehyun turns to smile at him, like really smile, dimples popping handsomely. “I think so, too,” he agrees. 

When they get home, shoes kicked off at the entrance and dogs tended to, Jaehyun turns to Mark. “How are you feeling?” he asks. “Wanna nap?”

Mark gives him a look. “If you’re asking if I’m feeling well enough to fuck you, I think you know the answer.”

Jaehyun laughs and kisses him. Mark melts under his touch. It feels perfect. Everything feels so perfect. He doesn’t know exactly what it is except that it’s Jaehyun. He wraps his arms around Jaehyun’s waist and kisses him, their teeth knocking in his eagerness. 

“You okay?” Jaehyun whispers when they separate.

“Just,” Mark says, but doesn’t know how to continue. How’s he supposed to explain without revealing himself? When it’s clear Jaehyun doesn’t, and won’t, feel the same way? “I know those texts last night were, like, cringey and dumb, but I really did miss you.”

“Well, I’m here now,” Jaehyun says. “C’mon.”

They head up to Jaehyun’s room, where the early afternoon sun is lighting up the space. His sheets are white today, and practically blinding. Jaehyun shuts the door behind them and heads over to the window to lower the blinds a little so they don’t get sun directly in their eyes. Mark watches him, that same terrible tenderness still holding onto his heart. All he can do is keep imagining Jaehyun younger, next to a faceless boyfriend, someone who had Jaehyun, really had him, and lost him anyway. There’s some bitter jealousy there, but also a strange kinship. Mark will join the ranks of Jaehyun’s unknowable past lovers, the way Jaehyun will join Mark’s. One day he’ll be a memory, a ghost that Mark’s future partner might never even find out about. He thinks again of a life he’ll have in that future, one that might look something like this. Lazy Saturday afternoon sex, post-brunch, in a sun-warmed bed.

Except this time in his vision, Mark’s potential future partner has a face. It doesn’t happen on purpose. He doesn’t mean to imagine it this way. But in his head, it’s the younger version of Jaehyun, smiling at him with those dimpled cheeks from across the mattress. His is the body waking up beside Mark’s, working beside him, building a life, slow but sure. One pancake at a time. 

Tears sting behind Mark’s eyes before he realizes what’s happening. Because that can never come true. As much as Mark might want it, Jaehyun’s not going to be able to wait around for him to grow up and finally be ready to settle down. By then, Jaehyun might already be well on his way to his fifties. And that’s if Jaehyun even wants him in the first place, which he doesn’t.

“What’s wrong?” Jaehyun’s suddenly in front of him, tilting Mark’s face up and searching his eyes.

“Nothing,” Mark manages, blinking rapidly and willing the tears away. “It’s just super bright in here. Hurts my eyes.”

“I can put the blind down all the way,” Jaehyun says, accepting this easily.

Mark shakes his head, leaning into Jaehyun, hooking his chin over Jaehyun’s shoulder and wrapping his arms around his middle. “No, this is perfect,” he says. 

“Okay,” Jaehyun agrees.

They pull each other’s clothes off slow and gentle, pausing to kiss over the freshly exposed skin before continuing. Jaehyun guides them to his bed, and they settle atop the soft duvet. Mark preps him blindly, not wanting to pull away from his mouth. When he finally fucks him, it’s quiet, sweet, sensual. None of their usual roughness and quick, panting breaths. There’s something different underneath, too. Mark’s put it to the test, and he’s still choosing Jaehyun. And Jaehyun, despite all the warning signs, seems to be letting him. Something blooms in Mark’s chest, but something withers, too. He pets Jaehyun’s baby-soft hair and kisses him and tries not to imagine what his life would be if this was every day. 

But even though he knows it’s impossible, some small part of him insists. Why not Jaehyun? If things were different, couldn’t it be him?

But they’re not different, he reminds himself firmly, swallowing one of Jaehyun’s soft moans when he rolls his hips up just right. This is what you have. This is it. It will have to be enough.

“Where’d you go, baby?” Jaehyun whispers. “You seem far away.”

Mark shakes his head, both to refute Jaehyun’s statement and to clear his mind. “I’m right here,” he insists. And he forces it to be true. He focuses on the feeling of Jaehyun’s skin on his, the unsteady pattern of Jaehyun’s breath, the tightening of Jaehyun around him. The sun on his back, warm and comforting.

He comes first, but he can hardly feel it. 

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

[theundergroundstories]

Climbing The Ladder

This is a special story dedicated to the big man of the day, the one and only @thegreatstoryteller! Happy Birthday bro. I hope you have an amazing birthday and upcoming year.

July 8 2022  9:30pm:

TheGreatStoryTeller:

Hey there man, can we talk? Just had the worst week at work today and could use a friend to talk to.

TheUndergroundStories:

Oh damn. I’m sorry to hear that. Yeah we can talk. What happened that you need to vent about buddy?

TheGreatStoryTeller:  

Well it all started on Tuesday July 5th, I was driving to work like normal when this obnoxious speeding car cut me off. Now I’m normally calm and don’t get road rage   but this guy pissed me off a lot. He was blasting loud Bollywood music and cutting people left and right and when I caught up to him, cause of a red light, the guy obnoxiously revved his engine like a jerk to taunt people!        

TheUndergroundStories:      

Wow that guy does sound like a jerk..........Was he hot?    

TheGreatStoryTeller:

Dude! I’m trying to vent here. His dreamy sexy brown looks have nothing to do with this!But anyways here comes the worst part. I try to ignore him but he’s taking the same turns as I am but he’s just further ahead. I’m relieved that he’s gone and soon arrive at work, only for there to be an announcement that, that arrogant bastard is our new boss!

TheUndergroundStories:

Oh damn. That’s not too bad is it? I mean do you have to interact with your boss that often? And his looks are important, makes for good eye candy and keeps the blood pumping to your........ well you know what I’m talking about.    

TheGreatStoryTeller:

Yeah I thought so too since our last boss never came out of his office that much and only talked to us when it’s a really urgent or important situation but this guy comes out all the time and just chats with all of my jock co-workers and even encourages them to dump their work on to me and the other smaller nerdier workers! He’s like a total alpha douchebag and picks on me the most. Calling me names, taunting and flaunting his huge tall muscular body and not to mention he does kind of smell sexy. His rich Indian musk is mixed in with a manly cologne for the perfect masculine smell. You would absolutely love having his smell.                                              

TheUndergroundStories:

Damn he sounds like the perfect alpha. Well beside his rude douchebag attitude but even that is a bit hot. I’m sorry work has been rough for you but you have your birthday vacation this weekend right? I’m sure you’ll have a great trip and your next week of work will be better. Call it an intuition. 😉

TheGreatStoryTeller:

Yeah I do! I’m heading to Disney World this weekend. I’ll let you know how it goes. Maybe I’ll even get a picture and meet Nick Pulos! Anyways thanks for listening to my rant and hopefully you’re right and work will be better next week.

TheUndergroundStories:

Anytime buddy. Have a great and safe trip!

July 10 2022 10:00am:

TheUndergroundStories:

Happy Birthday my buddy!!! I hope you have a great birthday.

TheGreatStoryTeller:

Thanks man! I’m about to actually head back to Disney World again before I catch my flight back. Still haven’t seen Nick Pulos but wish me luck. I might not be able to talk much today though.

TheUndergroundStories:

No worries man just enjoy your birthday. Good luck on finding Nick. I’m actually finishing up the final touches on your birthday gift actually. Not to sound cocky but I know you’ll love my gift and will use it well with good intentions.

TheGreatStoryTeller:

Hahaha you’re always cocky my friend but I’m sure I’ll love  the gift no matter what. You didn’t even need to get me anything. Anyways got to go. Bye

TheUndergroundStories:

Okay bye. Talk to you tomorrow.

July 11 2022 7:00am:

TheUndergroundStories:

Rise and shine sleepy head. You got a big day today Mr. Boss sir. 😉

TheGreatStoryTeller:

Huh what do you mean man? I’m not the boss? Wait why do I feel weird? Heavier? Fuck what’s that smell and fuck my voice is deeper and I have an accent?

TheUndergroundStories:

Hahaha yeah you should stand up and head to the washroom my friend.

TheGreatStoryTeller:

Ummm okay. Fuck I....I....I look like my Indian jock boss!!!

TheUndergroundStories:

Yeah YOU are. Surprise this is my gift. I swapped your body with his. Now go get ready and enjoy your new body. You still have to get to work on time despite being the boss................................Ummmm buddy? You still there?

TheGreatStoryTeller:

Oh umm yeah. I...I’ve just been flexing my muscles. Fuck they’re huge! Gosh this is the best present ever. Are you sure that I should keep this body? I mean what about my boss? Shouldn’t I return his body to him?

TheUndergroundStories:

Don’t worry about that. Besides he was such an arrogant douchebag. Why does he deserve that body. I know you’ll enjoy showing off but treat everyone, young, old, fat, skinny, buff, with respect! Now go to work and enjoy your new life friend.

TheGreatStoryTeller:

Yeah you’re right! He didn’t deserve this body I do! It’s his karma and I’ll use this body for good and better than he did. Thanks friend for everything.

TheUndergroundStories:

No problem friend. Have a good day

July 11 2022 8:00am:

TheGreatStoryTeller:

TheUndergroundStories:

Looking good my friend...... or should I say sir.

TheGreatStoryTeller:

Being this tall, muscular and in charge just feels right man! I can’t say  thanks enough. I’m 6′10 and my feet are size 16 now! Fuck I’m such a sexy brown stud. Maybe next time you visit me it’ll be in MY office.

[polizwrites]

WIP Update - 18 May 2022

I was on vacation last week, so this is a combo update.  Over the past 2 weeks, I touched 4 fics (2 WIPs & 2 new works) for a total of  3277 words, most of which were on a single fic!   @psychiccatpanda   posted the first chapter of our WinterIronHawk ‘accidental demon summoning’ collab fic and I posted a Stucky-by-proxy Incubus AU ficlet  (updated from here)  over on Ao3.  Friday before last, I posted a  ‘gradually moving in together’ WinterHawk ficlet for Flash Fiction Friday.  

I’m sitting at 12 active WIPs  (with a couple of maybe TBCs)  with my current   deadlines being the WinterHawk Bingo  and Stucky Bingo which wrap up the end of May.   I did sign up for the @steverogersbingo, which will send out cards starting 1 June.

On the crafting side, I have one Stuffed With Character commission slot open for June and 4 for July at the moment - am pretty busy with requests & prepping for a show!

See below cut for the WIPs  (arranged more or less by bingos/challenges/etc) I am working on  -   feel free to send me prompts or plot bunnies as well as asks regarding any of these projects   (or any other WIPs I’ve got out there) – they really help feed the Muse and keep me motivated!

The Devil Is in the Details (Sign on the Dotted Line) 

This is the  WinterIronHawk ‘accidental demon summoning’ fic  @psychiccatpanda and I have been having So Much Fun with!  We’re up to Chapter 6  of  Tony  and Clint and Bucky shenanigans (1914 words at the moment) - kicking off with Ty as an Awful Boyfriend  before bringing in a couple more members of the gang! I plan to use Chapter 2  (possibly posting this Friday) for  my BBB  K5 - Tony Stark | Iron Man,  and possibly Chapter 3 (posting 5/27)  for my WHB FREE square.

WinterHawk Bingo - Round 3 [WHB_R3] (Runs thru 31 May 2022)

Fourteen fills posted - one WIP at the moment - I got my Row 1 bingo and am one square away from B column and I column bingoes -  my goal is to get at least one of those completed by the end of next month.

* B5 - Huddling for Warmth -  thinking about combining this with one of the Meet Ugly Writing Prompts I reblogged: 02.  I bought a house three months ago but I’m finally moving in and discover you’ve been squatting because you’re homeless.  

* I3 - Happy Bucky Barnes  - seems a good match with my BBB   Happily Ever After  square - this may be a moodboard/ficlet Wedding Day combo  

* N3 - FREE -  Probably filling this with Chapter 3 of You Can’t Stop it with a Gun -  Young Clint is given the choice between going to jail or joining a shadowy organization - but this time it’s not SHIELD.   It’s in progress and up to 503 words.   Current Last Line: Kostya listened intently, but couldn’t hear a thing that sounded like choppers. If I get stuck on this fic - then I’ll probably use Chapter 3 of  The Devil Is in the Details (Sign on the Dotted Line)

Stucky Bingo - Round 3 [SB R3] (Runs thru 31 May 2022)

23 fills with 2 WIPs, and one Vague Idea.   I’ve got Column B and I, and Row 1 bingos and am hoping to score a blackout, as I have one adopted fill done and another drafted.  

* N3 - FREE -  I was inspired by the May challenge to combine this with my BBB  Merpeople square  and work on a a continuation of Something’s Starting Right Now   that adds Steve to the WinterHawk mix.   I’m already 526 words in and have just introduced Steve into the story.  I should have enough words to be able to pull a WinterHawk Bingo prompt in as well - maybe  Huddling for Warmth or the FREE square, if nothing else. Current Last Line:   Recalling the storm of a few days prior, Clint suspected the human was the survivor of a sunken ship ... and that he wouldn’t survive much longer.

* N5 - KINK: Sugar Daddy  -  Filled this with Chapter 4 of  Takin’ What They’re Givin’ (‘Cause I’m Workin’ for a Livin’) - Mission Four: Pour Some Sugar: Part 1 - Steve invites Bucky to meet him in New York for a weekend. This posted on the 6th and also filled my STB Bingo ID Porn square.

* G4 - KINK: End of the world sex - got some help brainstorming during March’s Discord server party - I may be writing a porn parody of (some part of) Infinity War 😁   including Thanos wielding something other than a glove for the Infinity (of Sex) Stones.  

* O2 - AU: A/B/O  - planning to use this on the next chapter of   Flawed Hypothesis, which is Steve POV and currently sitting at  69 words.  Faustess might be helping out on this as well? Current Last Line: But now they were living in a new century,  where men could love and marry other men.  

* ADOPTED2 : Incubi/succubi AU -  Using a poem I wrote years & years ago as lead-in for a Stucky-by-proxy/established relationship fic - A Stolen Moment  posted this morning and came in at 424 words.

A Warm Light Zine - Due 20 Jun

I got accepted as a writer for  A Warm Light Zine - dedicated to 2012 Avenger era Stony and coming hopefully sometime this autumn!  I was assigned the 2012 canon-compliant category for a 2-5k fic.  While I can’t share much about it here, I do want to at least keep track of my word count: up to 467  

Steve | Tony | Bucky Bingo Round 2 [STBB R2]  (Runs thru 30 Jun 2022)

Ten fills, and two WIPs.  Taking advantage of the One Fill, One Bingo opportunity, and might get a Column G  bingo as well.  Will have to lean hard into this once May is over! 

* B4 - Working Out -  this came from a Bucky Barnes Bingo server party:   Binging Avengers Exercises -   the team posts their workouts online and modern!Bucky spends entirely too much time watching the channel - especially Captain America and Iron Man.

*  N2 - AU: Western  - possible crossover with MWAPB  Next Door Neighbors  – I have a decent idea for this one  (semi-inspired by a recent re-read of  Laura Ingalls Wilder A Long Winter)   and jotted down about 225 words’ worth of notes/VERY rough draft. Holding on to this to see if I can crossflll with an upcoming TSB square.  

* G4 - ID Porn -  see  Stucky Bingo - KINK: Sugar Daddy above

* O4 - Lazy Sunday Morning  -  have a smutty WinterIron idea for this one; need to get it jotted   down - will most likely cross over with my BBB  KINK: Edging square.

Started something to combining the following squares for the One Fill, One Bingo badge:    B5 - “Aliens, again?”, I5 - Lifeguard,  N5 - Barbeque,  G5 - River Rafting, O5 - Wakanda.    Avengers + Guardians in a partying mood = a huge headache for T’Challa.   It’s currently sitting at 339 words. Current Last Line:   I’m Sam, Sam Wilson – another friend of Steve’s.

Avengers Bingo [AvB] (Runs thru 24 Dec)

Two  fills posted and 0 WIPs - I decided to further challenge myself by pairing up each square with a unique combo of 2 original MCU Avengers! With the help of the STB Enthusiasts Discord folks - I’ve got all 16 squares   planned out, at least in terms of who to write about, and half of them have some sort of idea or crossover square to go along with them. Feel free to toss other plot  bunnies my way…  

* A2 - On the Run  - Natasha & Steve - crossover with  MWAPB - Farmer’s Market?   post CA:CW Wakanda ?

*  A4 - Mutual Pining  - Steve/Thor - crossover with  MWAPB - Thor.

* A3 - Reunited  -   Clint & Natasha  -  Endgame Ronin scene?

* B1 - Death - possible crossover with  MWAP Crying square – post Snap Bruce & Steve  mourning?

*  B3 - Road Trip  -  Bruce & Thor  - Post Grandmaster, pre-Thanos  space shenanigans

*  C1 - Opposites Attract - Clint/Thor  - there was a fun Tumblr  headcanon going around about a Bumbling Foreigner whose ignorance of  local customs  results in him flirting with/proposing to the prince -  this seems like a perfect matchup!  

* C3 - Reincarnation AU  -  Natasha & Tony  - post-Endgame

* C4 - Bodyguard AU  -  Thor/Tony  -  young!Tony - crush on Cap plays into attraction  (obvious title - Thunderstruck)  - holding on this til next round of TSB.  

* D1 - Friends w/ Benefits  - Clint/Steve - crossover with MWAPB Hawkeye/Clint Barton.

D2 - Romeo & Juliet AU  -  basic idea:  Steve (jock) & Tony  (geek) trying out for title roles in R&J - despite their respective  friend groups thinking it’s a terrible idea.  Both cliques end up  becoming friends.  

*  D3 - Bed Sharing  -  Bruce/Natasha - AoU compliant.

Man With a Plan (Steve Rogers) Bingo [MWAPB] (Runs thru 31 Dec)

Four fills, 1 WIPs and several Vague Ideas/potential cross fills with other bingos.  Prompts cheerfully accepted!  

* B2 - Next Door Neighbors  - see  STBB   AU: Western  above

* B3 - Farmer’s Market  - see  AvB On the Run above

* B4 - Powerless AU  - if Sunqueen and I decide to continue  Wrong Number, Right Call,  this would be a good fit.  

* B5 - “I don’t really want to wake up just yet.”  - this would probably be a good fit with Chapter 5 of   Takin’ What They’re Givin’ (‘Cause I’m Workin’ for a Livin’)

* I1 - Steve is here for TFAtWS  - this might go well with my BBB  “Oh, hell no"  square - Steve trolling  Bucky & Sam by sending the old man in with his shield?  (moodboard & ficlet?)

* I2 - Found Family  - see STBB One Fill, One Bingo above.

* I3 - Thor  - see AvB Mutual Pining above

* I5 - Dogsitting - possible crossover with  BBB “Run”  square - Steve & Bucky dogsitting for Lucky?  (moodboard + ficlet)

* N1 - School AU/Teacher AU  - if I decide to continue on with Technicalities (see Stucky Bingo  College AU above)  - I could fill this square  :: ponders::

* N3 - Online shopping - this might be fun as a crossover with BBB Thighs …?  (even tho lingerie is a “nah” for me) Steve and Tony buying a new wardrobe for Bucky  that show off his ass-ets?

* G4 - Canon Divergence post CA:TWS - possible  crossover with BBB  Kill List Bucky wreaking havoc on Hydra bases and  Steve & Sam catch up with him

* O1 - Crying - see AvB Death square above

*  O2 - Sex Pollen  -  Teenage Groot pollen =  aphrodisiac  hi-jinks. Quill & Gamora  warn the  couple (stucky)/throuple (Stuckony)  ahead of time, so no  dub-con.

* O3 - Hawkeye/Clint Barton  -  see AvB - Friends w/ Benefits  above.

Bucky Barnes Bingo - Round 4 [BBB_R4] (Runs thru 7 Jan 2023)

Four fills and  three WIPs -  looks like I’m already in good shape to start with  a Row 4 and/or Column K bingo!

* B3 - Sam Wilson|Falcon - this would be a good candidate for a continuation of After One Or Two False Starts

* U2 - AU: Roommate  - see WHB Huddling for Warmth above

* U3 - Steve Rogers - slating for  Chapter 5 of  Never More to Go Astray (Stuckony Star Wars AU) Looks like this will be at least 6 chapters to get through two rounds of POVs.  Huge thanks to RudeArrow, who  is doing an AMAZING job of brainstorming and beta’ing with me!!  Chapter 5 (Bucky POV)  is currently sitting at 400 words. Current Last Line:   “How come I’m the errand boy?”  

* U4 - AU: Arranged Marriage - will probably pick Lady Natasha’s Consort and Lord Steve’s Companion  back up for this one.  

* U5 - Kill List -  see MWAP  - G4 - Canon Divergence.  Post CA:TWS above

* C1 - Merpeople  - see  Stucky Bingo  FREE square

* C2 - "Oh, hell no” - possible crossover with MWAP I1 - Steve is here for TFaWS

* C4 - KINK: Aftercare -  probably holding onto this until the TSB bingo 😁

* C5 - “This might as well happen”  -  possible crossover with WHB Huddling for Warmth?

* K1 - Thighs - possible crossover with MWAP: N3 - Online Shopping.  

* K2 - Comics - sew the  Stuffed Marvel Classic Comics Bucky Barnes I drew up last month.  

* K3 - KINK: Edging  - see STB Lazy Sunday Morning above.

* K5 - Tony Stark | Iron Man -  see The Devil is in the Details above

* Y1 - “Do you trust me?” -  Using this for Chapter 5 of Takin’ What They’re Givin’ (‘Cause I’m Workin’ for a Livin’) - Mission Four: Pour Some Sugar: Part 2.   Chapter 5 picks up mid-sexytimes with Steve and Bucky and is currently sitting at 705 words. Current Last Line:  “Breathe for me, sweetheart.”      

* Y2 - Never the fall that kills you -  this might be the title for the remix I want to do of   Seeds of Love  (by the super-talented @hddnone) Holding off on this til I get my TSB card, as I wanted to carry over my Secret Admirer  square for this as well.  

* Y3 - “Run”  -  see MWAP I5 - Dogsitting above.

* Y5 - Happily Ever After - see WHB  Happy Bucky Barnes above

————

On other creative fronts:  I have a Bub the Zombie in progress with Gritty and Argoman  in the works.  I currently have 1 June slot available and 3 for July. 

if  you’re looking for one of a kind gifts (for a friend or something for yourself!)  you can plan ahead for  the next holiday season and check   out Stuffed With Character    over on Facebook for a full list of my designs (now over 80!).   They’re  mostly Marvel and monsters, but I have some Star Wars, Star   Trek, DC   and Disney figures as well. Plus I love to take custom design  requests  for any fandom!

[incidentreport31]

Episode Three: Gather raw meat of any kind, red preferred, human is fine TRANSCRIPT

(You can listen to the show wherever you get your podcasts.)

Recorder clicks on.

SFX: papers shuffling as Val decides on an account to focus on for the day.

ARCHIVIST:

(humming Under My Skin by Jukebox the Ghost for a few moments as they decide) Which one for today, then? Christ, this place is a mess.

[they stop as they pick up one covered in grime]

ARCHIVIST CONT.:

What in god’s name? What’s all over this one… (they scoff) Great, Val. You’re asking the damn recorder questions now.

[beat, then to the recorder]

Although I suppose you’re good enough company even if you can’t answer… (fondly) aren’t you?

[an awkward beat, a little too long]

(they clear their throat) I suppose I’ll be getting this one over with…

[SFX: shuffle of paper as they pick it up]

Certainly seems the most interesting given the…

[SFX: another shuffle as they flip it back and forth and take it in]

-residue… on it. (they sniff) God, the smell of it. Almost like rotten meat.

(they shudder)

(sighing) Right. Best get right into it… (muttering) it’ll be over sooner.

For the consideration of their parents: Bryn Fischer’s retelling of their time traveling alongside their road bike expedition through Massachusetts and- Dear Lord- a - what does this mean- a… a meat rain? (they sigh, exasperated) Yes, a “meat rain” that they came upon while driving.It seems Mx. Fischer is requesting their parents to pay fully for their next vacation… I’ve said it before, but (sighs) Rich People. Surprisingly, though, this account does seem to have a date written in: July 21, 2001. Regardless of my disbelief in the fact that the previous Archivist finally did something competent, their account begins as such:

[ACCOUNT STARTS]

I used to drive support for my parents’ long distance bike rides. They used to go out for anywhere from 90 to 200 miles a day with only a few stops in small towns where they could meet me at the car and grab new waters before heading right back out. They’re big bike geeks and I was the one person they’d always had at their disposal for the longer trips. Once I turned sixteen and properly had a driver’s license, it seemed to occur to them that they didn’t really have to ask their other long-distance riding friends to drive alongside them. Instead, they turned to me to make sure they were safe and sound on their excursions. Which was honestly fine for a while! I mean, when I’d first gotten the freedom of driving, it felt like such a treat to go on these trips and be able to just drive for hours and hours with someone else paying for my gas. And beyond that, it was nice to see everything out on the roads. I always found something good on those days where my parents were tirelessly trekking across the state highways. I loved seeing things I’d never seen before, whether it was the weird trinkets at rest stops or patches of snow hiding under dense forests I’d never seen before. I loved the exploring of it, but if I’m being honest, the thing that really amazed me was my parents. The dedication it took to willingly submit yourself to that much physical exertion with nothing but the few waters they could carry on their bikes between our meeting spots… Well it wasn’t something they’d passed down to me, that’s for sure.

[beat]

But, that’s all to say that after a while of driving for them, it eventually lost its charm. They eventually found a route they loved above all others and decided that they were going to make it their annual ride. As I’m sure you can tell, the whole “seeing new places and exploring” thing went away pretty quickly a few trips in. I was a stupid teenager, you know, and started griping about it to them two years in when they decided the perfect time for their next ride was over the weekend that my eighteenth birthday fell on.

ARCHIVIST:

Sometimes, Bryn, parents don’t have an ounce of self-awareness, I’ll give you that much, but this is getting past the point of exposition and I’d suggest you get to the point lest you sound like a writer who got to write in more background details than usual because this is a two-part episode.

[ACCOUNT]

After that, well I decided they could get their friends who actually gave a damn to go along with them. And even then, I was going away to college in Boston soon, so they’d have to stop relying on me eventually, so it was as good a time as any.

[beat]

Well, that’s my rambling exposition for you, I suppose.

ARCHIVIST:

Thank God.

[ACCOUNT]

But of course, by my sophomore year in university I was growing away from my parents and our calls had become less frequent. As much as I hated to admit it, I missed them. So when they called me and briefly mentioned they’d tired of their old route and would be taking on a new ride that summer, namely one that would loop right by me in Boston, I jumped at the chance, telling them to please not bother any of their friends with the trouble of driving and to let me come along. They were thrilled, of course. It had been a while since I’d willingly gone with them on their trips and they agreed without a second thought, inviting me to stay at their hotel with them like old times. I’ll spare you the details of the trip as a whole, I suppose. It was 119 miles along Wachusett mountain and there was a lot to look at. I mean I could go on and on about the sights I saw and the nostalgia that bloomed in my chest when I remembered the first few drives I’d taken with them.

ARCHIVIST:

(mocking) Heaven forbid you go on a tangent.

[ACCOUNT]

The important thing is the fact that, although I was so sure I’d checked all the maintenance lights off beforehand, by some twisted turn of fate, the lights on my dashboard flicked off, and stopped functioning altogether. It would have been fine, I mean it was in broad daylight still, but without a working speedometer, I was screwed. Now, my first thought was rage, of course, quickly followed by worry about my parents. I was lucky enough to have broken down where there was still cell service and to have my father pick up when I called, the two of them having momentarily paused to sight see. He assured me that it was okay. They’d be riding through where my car had stopped in about an hour and would be able to refuel their waters and snacks, but that they were going strong and should be fine to continue the ride. He told me just to call Triple A and make sure to get myself back to the hotel we were staying at safely and to leave the waters and things by a tree if by some miracle my car was fixed before they got to me. I tried to stay calm and called for the repair guy, who informed me he wouldn’t be there for about an hour and a half which was… just perfect.

ARCHIVIST:

Now I genuinely cannot tell if this is sarcasm or not as it’s written down so it’s anyone’s guess really.

[ACCOUNT]

I thought for a while and decided it would be fine if I walked around the nearby woods for a little while. Like I said, I really did love the exploring aspects of these trips and I figured that if I would be stuck here for a while, I might as well make the most of it as long as I kept my phone on me and kept track of the time. And honestly? It was some of the best fun I’d had in a while. Staying in the city for college had put my love of nature on hold indefinitely and I was happy to have it, even if for a short time. After a little while of walking around, I found this nice secluded area right on the edge of an open field and took a seat within a bush where the branches grew haphazardly enough that there was a decent sized hollow space for me to rest. I closed my eyes, just enjoying the moment in spite of my circumstances.

[beat]

SFX: Eerie music begins playing.

And… that’s when I heard it. There was this slight whooshing noise followed up by a few wet squelching sounds as whatever seemed to have fallen bounced once or twice along the damp earth.

My eyes snapped open, but as I scanned the forest floor, nothing immediately caught my attention. Everything seemed normal. And then as I was staring open-eyed at the field in front of me, it seemed as though the sky opened up. But… not with rain. Instead of water, there were fleshy colored chunks of all sizes just plummeting down from the sky into the field. They flopped as they hit the ground in a way that was both comical and simultaneously made me afraid I was going to lose the continental breakfast I’d had at the hotel just a few hours earlier. And that’s before I even noticed the smell. In the end, that’s what really made me realize what I was looking at. The smell that permeated the air as the shower continued suddenly clicked in my brain: rotten meat. There was nothing else that could smell so repulsive and sickly as the mass of meat chunks that had begun to collect on the field before me.

[RECORD SCRATCH]

ARCHIVIST:

What.

[beat]

[ANOTHER BEAT]

(they clear their throat) Right.(somewhat shakily) Moving on then.

[ACCOUNT]

By now, I was holding my hands clasped to my mouth, trying not to panic and furthermore hoping that the meat shower would stay central to that one area. Honestly I didn’t know if I would be able to handle any of it coming near me and I was thankful for every second it didn’t. It went on like that for several minutes through which I finally resolved to keep my eyes firmly shut.

[beat]

And then all of a sudden, the wet flopping sound ceased. For a moment, I could almost believe I imagined it, with my eyelids still pressed together. And yet, the smell still hung in the air. I slowly opened my eyes, hoping not to see what I deep down knew I would. What had once been a gorgeous fertile field full of lush grass and the types of wildflowers that would have been classified as weeds by those without any sense-

ARCHIVIST:

You mean botanists who likely have PHD’s? Hmm. I see.

[ACCOUNT]

Well, it had been turned into a literal hellscape. Not only was the meat layered on itself in clumps of already rotting material slowly heating up in the mid-day sun- which yes is as nasty as it sounds- but even the areas where the meat hadn’t settled were covered in that kind of slimy residue that comes off when you pat pre-packaged meats dry before you cook them. Pretty awful in every sense of the word.

[beat]

I sat on the ground for a few more minutes hidden safely within my bush before I realized that it had probably been about forty-five minutes since I called the Triple A man and figured now was a good a time as any to try getting back to my car, especially since I wasn’t keen to get caught up in any second round of meat rain.

SFX: Eerie music starts playing.

Unfortunately for me, the moment I decided this was exactly the moment the man and little girl walked out into the field. They came in from exactly the opposite side from where I was attempting to stand up, so of course they saw the bush shudder even with the cover it gave me. I hoped against everything that they would pass it off as an animal, perhaps drawn towards the display looking for dinner, and it seemed that, even standing up as I was, I was lucky enough to scrape by on that front.

I guess you’ll be wanting a description of them, yeah? The man was a little older, maybe in his late thirties and seemed positively pleased to be walking through the field of gristle and gore. At the very least, his smile beamed as he passed his eyes back and forth across the field. The girl next to him seemed to be so young, a toddler: maybe five at the oldest? I don’t know, I’ve never been good at discerning children’s ages. But young as she was, she didn’t seem put off by the scene around her in the slightest, skipping along next to the man with her hand swinging along in his.

I wish I knew what happened next. You ever have one of those moments where you suddenly realize you’ve been holding your breath? That’s the only thing I can chalk it up to I guess. Maybe it was the terrifying notion of them noticing me any further, a freeze fear response, or just subconsciously trying to keep the smell out of my nostrils, but no matter the reason, I realized I hadn’t taken a breath in far too long a few moments too late and I fell forward into the bush.

[beat]

Loudly. Loud enough that when I came to my senses a second or two later, halfway fallen out of the bush where they could see me clear as day, I could see both of them staring at me with their heads cocked to the side. As frightened as I was, though, I remember clearly that the two of them shared the same calm, kind face, the pleasant demeanor dimmed only by their surroundings. And then, with my head still cloudy, I heard him call out to me.

“Are you alright over there?” And that was the moment I knew that-

[SFX: paper being turned over frantically and then a beat]

ARCHIVIST:

(frustrated) Hm. It seems that the account ends there if I’m not mistaken. Though it seems the story does not. I suppose maybe there’s another sheet around here with the rest of the story, although how I’m going to find it in this mess I can only guess. (muttering) Guess I’ll just have to keep a look out for another paper coated in this grime, which I am now unfortunately being led to believe is meat… juice.

Either way, I’m afraid that with the few details I’ve been given so far I cannot confirm anything about this case one way or another. I would love to dismiss it right off the bat and write off the… grime on this paper as a practical joke, but until further research is done or I get a hold of the rest of this story, I’m afraid I can do no such thing. (a long, drawn out sigh)

[SFX: the listeners become aware of the sound of a camcorder whirring at some point in this closing as Chris approaches]

[As Chris begins, the Archivist yelps in surprise, maybe a little desk clatter]

CHRIS:

Do you think you could do another take real quick? Maybe up the acting a bit during the meat rain, really sell the emotion?

ARCHIVIST:

Bloody hell—who are you?

CHRIS:

Oh, sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you.(then, trying to be cryptic, but she’s too over-the-top for it to be scary) Or did I?

ARCHIVIST:

(confused) You—how long have you been in here?

CHRIS:

Uh. The whole time? I thought you’d say something to me eventually, but you were really lost in the sauce there for a bit.(trying to be funny) Or, lost in the meat juice, I guess. (she giggles at her own joke.)

ARCHIVIST:

Well, my sincerest apologies, but you weren’t supposed to be in here in the first place. Who are you? Is—is that a camera?

CHRIS:

Oh, I’m Christine Lewis, one of the researchers!

[Val tries to speak, but Chris cuts them off.]

CHRIS:

Just Chris is fine. Anyways, I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to get some footage for my channel.

ARCHIVIST:

(slowly) Your...channel…

CHRIS:

(she hums.) I’m kind of going for like, a Buzzfeed Unsolved type vibe, you know?

ARCHIVIST:

I’m afraid I don’t know what that is.

CHRIS:

Damn. No culture in these archives. Maybe if you stanned Ryan Bergara, this never would have happened.

ARCHIVIST:

Look, Chris, as...flattered...as I am to be the subject of your web series, I don’t appreciate being recorded without my knowledge. At least I have control over when this girl here turns on and off.

CHRIS:

Did you just call the tape recorder a girl…?

ARCHIVIST:

(overlapping) Not the point. Could you please get back to doing your job, and save the videos for when you’re not at work?

CHRIS:

If you insist. It’s gonna be worth it, though. You’ll get a shoutout in my one million subscribers video, just you wait.(mumbles). Just gotta get to ten subscribers first. Maybe if I was more active on Twitter. Say, do you think we could make an account for the [REDACTED] Institute?

ARCHIVIST:

(they are at their limit) Chris?

CHRIS:

Yeah, boss?

ARCHIVIST:

Get back to work before I tell HR to write this up.

CHRIS:

Yeah, yeah, I’m going.

SFX: Chris begins to walk off.

ARCHIVIST:

(they huff a sigh.) End recording.

Recorder clicks off.

CREDITS:

Incident Report Number 31 is a podcast made by Three-Eyed Frog Presents. This episode, “Gather raw meat of any kind, red preferred, human is fine,” was written, directed, and produced by Val West and Luka Miller with sound design by Luka Miller. This episode featured Val West as the Archivist and Jesse Smith as Chris Lewis. Music is produced by Luka Miller. To keep up with the show and find transcripts, make sure to follow us on our Twitter at @IR31Pod and on tumblr at @IncidentReport31. To contact us with any questions or concerns, feel free to email us at incidentreport31@gmail.com. Thanks for listening.

[crowdvscritic]

round up // AUGUST 21

Happy 2nd birthday to these Round Ups! For two years I’ve been making monthly pop culture picks, and they’ve included:

More than 200 movies

32 TV shows and specials, plus 8 different Saturday Night Live Round Ups

27 albums, singles, playlists, and more music picks

13 podcasts

12 books

2 concerts

There have also been articles, events, museums, social media bits, trailers, and a service that helps you find movies across streaming platforms. (Find all of them here.) This month I’m adding a few more, like: 

2 podcasts

2 albums

5 vampire movies

A conversation between two GOATs

A very funny dead guy

A terrifying Robert Mitchum performance

Another Dumb Rom-Com I Nevertheless Enjoyed

Here’s to another year!

August Crowd-Pleasers

1. Jungle Cruise (2021)

Indiana Jones meets Pirates of the Caribbean with a dash of The African Queen. I like all those movies, so sue me, I had a nice time! Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 7/10

2. Deep Blue Sea (1999)

Genetically-enhanced sharks try to break free of their cages in an ocean research facility, chaos ensues for the characters, and it’s a delight for us. For no intelligent reason, I love movies that make me guess who’s going to get killed off next, so a big dumb shark movie starring L.L. Cool J and Samuel L. Jackson? It’s a particular brand of joy. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 5.5/10

3. Double Feature — Adam Sandler Comedies: 50 First Dates (2004) + Murder Mystery (2019)

Adam Sandler movies are little like IcyHot for the brain—that is, they’re the relaxing kind of mind-numbing. Thanks to a stressful month at work, I watched six Sandler flicks in August—which I don’t necessarily recommend but also don’t regret—and the Netflix original Murder Mystery (Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 7/10) was one of the the best of the bunch. It’s a silly spoof of Agatha Christie’s work, and it’s a scenic two-hour European vacay. I also gave 50 First Dates (Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 7/10) another try and was pleasantly surprised. Once you get past some of the gross-out humor at the beginning, you’ll find a sweet story all about how we need to keep showing up for the people we love.

4. Double Feature — SNL Comedies: Wayne’s World (1992) + Hot Rod (2007)

My love for Saturday Night Live is more than well-documented, so exactly zero mes were surprised that I loved these flicks from its alums. Wayne’s World (Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 7/10) follows up with Wayne and Garth in the basement we first saw on late night. Now they have the opportunity to make it big on TV thanks to a sleazy exec (Rob Lowe). Brian Doyle-Murray and Chris Farley show up, and so do Laverne and Shirley? Hot Rod (Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 6.5/10) follows Rod (Andy Samberg) as he tries to make it big as a stuntman and impress his stepdad (Ian McShane). Will Arnett, Bill Hader, and Chris Parnell show up, and now I can mostly forgive all those boys in high school who quoted this movie non-stop.

5. Weekend at Bernie’s (1989)

If those SNL comedies weren’t enough silliness for you, how about you add some Bernie to your lineup? Andrew McCarthy and Jonathan Silverman are wannabe-yuppies who think they’ve got their  career breaks when an exec named Bernie invites them to his vacation home for the weekend. What they don’t know is that Bernie (Terry Kiser) has been laundering money, is connected to the mob, and, is now, um, dead. The right thing would be to call the police, but then we wouldn’t have a 97-minute high-concept comedy, now would we? Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 7/10

6. Twilight series (2008-12)

I mostly skipped the Twilight phenomenon at its peak, but I’m so glad I hopped on the train years later—this series of vampire vs. werewolf showdowns are ridiculous.  But major kudos to the filmmakers who somehow turned a dump truck of nonsensical gobbledygook and unhealthy teenage relationships into something insanely watchable. Also, major kudos to Billy Burke and his understated, curmudgeonly, sarcastic performance. Bella’s dad is the MVP with the only appropriate responses to all of the nonsense he's forced to participate in and the only tether this franchise has to reality. Be sure to watch with a friend so you have someone else to process this weirdness with. Series Crowd: 8/10 // Series Critic: 5/10

7. Seven Brides for Seven Brothers at The Muny

You know what’s great? Live theater! This month I made my first trip back to the stage at America’s oldest and largest outdoor amphitheater, the Muny in St. Louis. Their productions never disappoint, and these performers reminded me of Howard Keel, Jane Powell, and Russ Tamblyn in the best ways. 

8. Wimbledon (2004)

Paul Bettany and Kirsten fall in love at Wimbledon! Frankly, that premise alone should be enough to sell you on this very winning rom-com. Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 7.5/10

9. Career Opportunities (1991)

This month’s Dumb Rom-Com I Nevertheless Enjoyed! Frank Whaley and Jennifer Connelly fall in love while stuck overnight at a Target—which honestly sounds like a dream scenario—and since it’s a John Hughes script, it’s got some heart beneath its thin premise. John Hughes directing would’ve made it better, but there’s enough Hughes in there to catch my heart. Crowd: 7/10 // Critic: 4.5/10

10. First Blood (1982)

Aka Rambo: Part I. Sylvester Stallone is a tough-as-nails Vietnam vet, and Brian Dennehy is the self-righteous sheriff who ticks him off. It digs a bit into PTSD and how we don’t take care of our veterans, but mostly, it’s just Stallone going ape with a knife and explosives. Oddly, also from the same director as Weekend at Bernie’s! Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 7/10

August Critic Picks

1. TCM’s The Plot Thickens Season 2 (2021)

You know those movies that make you ask, “How on Earth did this get made?” This season of The Plot Thickens, subtitled The Devil’s Candy, is an attempt to answer that question. Pretty much no one thinks 1990’s The Bonfire of the Vanities works as a film—including yours truly—and reporter Julie Salomon documented many of its production troubles leading to the final product. A must-listen for anyone who loves hearing behind-the-scenes stories or just gets a kick out of schadenfreude. 

2. Gene and Roger (2021)

Gene and Roger, the summer series on The Big Picture podcast, is an overview and reflection on the work of Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert, starting with the launch of their individual careers in the ‘60s through their partnership that lasted into the ‘90s. Another must-listen for movie lovers, especially those who love digging into the history and criticism.

3. Gold-Diggers Sound by Leon Bridges (2021)

Chill vibes and cool groves to transition you from Summer to Autumn.

4. The Good, the Bad and the Ugly (1966)

Come for the Clint Eastwood, stay for the Ennio Morricone. Actually you can stay for Eastwood, too, because his humor is at his driest, and for Eli Wallach, whose Tuco is an insanely charming cockroach. It’s almost three hours, but this treasure hunt breezes by like a tumbleweed in the wind. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 9/10

5. AFI’s Master Class - The Art of Collaboration: Steven Spielberg and John Williams (2011)

Two GOATS talking about making some of the GOATs. They share clips and explain their collaborative process (including on projects like Jaws and Schindler’s List), and they take questions from film students at AFI. I’m only wishing it were 10 hours instead of 1!

6. The Night of the Hunter (1955)

Robert Mitchum’s terrifying preacher elevates this classic into more than just a standard crime thriller. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 8.5/10

7. Respect (2021)

While a few scenes indulge in melodrama, Jennifer Hudson’s killer performance—both in vocals and character work—more than makes up for it. This Aretha Franklin biopic hits the familiar beats, but it makes you feel like you’re in the room listening to Franklin sing , which is really all you want from a movie like this. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 8/10

8. Solar Power by Lorde (2021)

At first listen, this minimalist pop record sounds worlds away from the angst of Pure Heroine and the melodrama of Melodrama. At second listen, you realize it’s the Lorde you know and love, just with a Laurel Canyon influence. Carole King even gets a shout!

Also in August…

This month Kyla and I checked out Loveline, a call-in radio show popular during the run of Gilmore Girls.  Should our favorite Yale students give up dating OR call into the syndicated radio show Loveline? Should Dr. Drew Pinsky and Adam Carolla give strangers advice OR make fun of them? Oh, and Germany OR Florida? Listen to ep. 107 of SO IT’S A SHOW?

The '40s are coming! Reviews of 1940s Best Picture winners are on their way, and I kicked it off with an overview of the Academy that decade focusing on how they responded to World War II and their new prestigious reputation.

Photo credits: The Muny, The Plot Thickens, Gene and Roger, Leon Bridges, AFI, Lorde. All others IMDb.com.

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

[emilialuciasantos]

Weekend Getaway || Self-Para

When: July 22, 2021

Where: San Francisco, California

Featuring: Ace Wong, Abbie Cohen (Ace’s half-sister), and Logan Miller (Abbie’s fiancé) 

Triggers: Anxiety, self-harm

Emilia needed to get away. After spending half of the month cooped up in her room-- and the entire month without her favorite person-- she was getting restless and anxious. Lola said she needed to clear her head, but what if that wasn’t the full story? What if Lola just wanted to get away from her because she did something to upset her? Emilia had been having these thoughts multiple times a week since Lola’s departure, and she needed to get away before those thoughts-- and worse intrusive thoughts-- consumed her. So she texted her other favorite person.

Emilia: hey, are you free this weekend? do you think I can come visit?

Ace: of course you can! I’ll clear my schedule! I NEED to take you to CAS and SFMOMA!!!

Emilia packed a bag and was on the road the same day. Paula wasn’t thrilled about the spur-of-the-moment decision, but she knew Ace and trusted him to keep her daughter safe. Six hours later, she was in The Golden City. As soon as Emilia entered Abbie’s house, she fell into her best friend’s arms, squeezing him tightly. 

“I missed you,” she muttered, burying her face into his shoulder. 

“Missed you too,” he muttered back, petting her hair as she sobbed into his shoulder. 

Ace made his move back to San Francisco in April, and this was the first time she had seen him in person since the move. She wanted to go to his graduation ceremony, but had too much going on with finals. She felt awful for missing it, but he understood and told her that there was always next time. This was also the first time she was seeing Abbie and Logan since before their engagement. She congratulated the happy couple and asked them for all the details about their wedding planning process. Once her bags were put down, the air mattress was blown up, and Abbie and Logan left for their night shift at the hospital, she sat down in Ace’s room and shared everything that was on her mind. 

“So at the end of May, my parents went on a cruise for their wedding anniversary. To celebrate the semester ending, Blaine and I decided to throw a party. I told people they could tell their friends, which was probably the biggest mistake. Too many people showed up. I don’t even know how that many people found out about it. There were people there who were complete strangers to me! And I tried to be a good host and talk to everyone, but it was really draining. Blaine wasn’t there at the start of it because he was picking up drinks and got stuck in traffic, but when he came home and saw all the people, he flipped his shit. He screamed at me about how I didn’t respect him and that I was ruining his home, all this really mean stuff. I ended up shutting myself in my room for the rest of the party. Blaine and I ended up making up the next morning as we were cleaning up, and it hasn’t come up again, but... I really upset him, Ace. A childhood picture of him and his parents got smashed. And you know Blaine, he’s a pretty stoic guy, but things with his mom just really set him off. And then there was pride. Pride was really fun. There was the parade, and the beach concert, all this cool stuff. This whole big fight broke out at the concert, but I’ll tell you about that later... But as fun as it was, I didn’t get to spend much alone time with Lola. I did spend time with her, don’t get me wrong, but... it was never really just the two of us. Then right after the month was over, she leaves! She went to spend some time with her family in Chicago. And we’ve been texting here and there, but... but I don’t know if she still likes me. And then when I was at a rest stop, I saw some shit on Gossip God saying how I was doing just fine without her. But I’m really not! I feel myself constantly checking my phone for updates from her. I keep worrying that one day she’s just going to text me and say that she hates me and never wants to see me again.” At the end of her rambling, she flopped face-down onto Ace’s bed. 

Ace tried to follow along as well as he could by reading her lips. He didn’t fully catch every detail, but got the gist of everything. He rubbed his best friend’s back as he spoke to her, “Hey, it’s all going to be okay. Blaine just had a bad night, and if he was really still mad at you, I don’t think you would’ve been able to make up the next morning. And with Lola, I’m sure she wouldn’t just decide to hate you. From what I’ve seen, she seems to be the type to speak her mind, so if she didn’t like you, I think she would’ve said something by now. Sometimes people just get overwhelmed and need a break. I’m sure if you were living away from your mom, you’d do the same thing. Hell, I did the same thing back in January! She’ll come back, and you two will get your alone time in no time... Is there anything else bothering you?”

Emilia hesitated before looking back up at Ace and answering, “Relapse. I’m afraid I’m going to relapse. I’ve been thinking about it late at night every night for the past week or so. Every time I see scissors at work or razors in the bathroom, I just... I freak out.”

“Have you told your therapist about this?”

“No, she’s on vacation until August. Everyone’s abandoning me.” 

“Hey, hey. I’m still here, whether I’m a six minute drive or a six hour drive. And I’m here with you right now. Nothing will happen to you on my watch. We’re going to have a fun, relaxing weekend together. I got you a CityPASS and we’re going to go to the museums together, and if you packed a bathing suit, we can go to the beach too. And then you’re going to drive home on Sunday and text me when you get home. And if you get any more thoughts about it, you’re going to text me and we’ll talk through it. And once your therapist gets back from vacation, you’re going to tell her everything you’ve said to me today. Okay?”

“Okay...” She sniffled, sitting up to wrap her arms around Ace once more.   

[purplesurveys]

1062

survey by chrissylee22dc

A

Achievements: I guess I’m being asked to list some of mine...some of the ones I’m proudest of, at least, are graduating university with honors, landing a job (liking it is a big bonus), and taking up leadership positions.

Age: I am 22, but never felt quite like it.

Are you planning something right now? Kind of. I’m eyeing a long road trip to Tanay with just myself and go to one of their coffee shops, but idk when I’ll be able to do that. My wallet and bank account are still beat from Christmas lol (and until now I’m still buying gifts for friends), so it might have to wait until sometime next month.

Arizona or Alaska: I think Arizona weather is already quite like ours here, so I might enjoy Alaska a bit (if not a lot) more. There’s generally a lot more factors I find interesting with Alaska, like their food.

B

Birthdate: April 21st.

Build: I’m quite thin and underweight, but I actually recently made plans to start working out - both to make an effort to be healthy with myself, and also to feel good post-breakup. I’m hoping to see some changes in my body and build in the coming months.

Babies, do you have any? None of those, not sure if that’s still the plan for me.

Blonde or Brunette: Brunette.

C

Childhood sweetheart: Erm, does Gab count? We technically weren’t kids anymore when we first got together. I wasn’t attracted to anyone as a kid and was more concerned with growing my Pokemon pogs collection.

Current mood: I’m hungry and can go for savory breakfast foods right now, like shakshuka or huevos rancheros. Also a little anxious because I really don’t want to think about work, but tasks continue to pile up for a certain client.

Children, are there more in your future? There aren’t even any to begin with.

Coke or Pepsi: Pepsi just because it reminds me of Punk and my chaotic wrestling fangirl years.

D

Dad's name: Edgardo, but no one calls him by that full name. He has two nicknames; one of which he hates and only family and friends use, and the other is the name he has permanently introduced himself as in his workplace.

Dating anyone: Not anymore.

Do you plan on having lots of money? Don’t most people?

Dogs or cats: Dogs.

E

Elementary School: I’m not sharing that.

Eye color: Dark brown/black.

Ever going to China? Probably not right now considering the present situation. I’d love to go to the rural cities and have a peek into their country life.

Early or Late: EARLY. Lateness is a big pet peeve, unless the excuse is super reasonable like Manila traffic or a car accident.

F

First Crush: The first person I felt remotely attractive to was Andi, from 6th grade. Then she moved to New Zealand and the crush quickly faded out.

Fears: For concrete things, I hate cockroaches and fair rides. For bigger concepts, I fear getting left behind, failing, and not getting approval, and the idea of never being satisfied or happy with who I am, what I’ve done, or where I’ve gone.

Future goals: Have a place of my own, be able to sustain myself, and keep myself alive.

Funny or Serious: I think everyone has to have both sides. I wouldn’t want to hang out long with people who can’t be sat down to just shoot the shit with conversations that go a little deeper. At the same time, I’d be quickly bored with someone who talks about existential or philosophical topics 24/7 and takes everything seriously.

G

Grandparent's names: On my dad’s side, Dolores and Federico; on my mom’s side, Agnes and Jun. My maternal grandpa is the third in multiple generations of Abelardos in the family, but his nickname is simply ‘Jun,’ because Philippines.

GPA: We don’t measure our grades with that, but we do have a GWA; I’m just not sure how that can be converted to GPA. Mine was in the 1.47 range, which was good enough for cum laude honors. I barely missed out on a magna cum laude honor (which required a 1.45 GWA), so that’s something I’ve always been pressed about and I know I could have clinched it if the pandemic didn’t cancel my final semester, which would’ve given me the chance to pull up my grades.

Going anywhere this weekend? I don’t think so. I want to spend the remaining 5 days of my break completely unproductively.

Giver or Taker: Giver. I like pleasing people.

H

High School: I attended one school from kindergarten to high school.

Hair color: Black.

Hate anyone for life? I don’t think so. I dislike some people, but I can’t tell if I’ll feel that way for the rest of my life.

Hairspray or Gel: When I’m going somewhere or attending something fancy, I use hair gel to hold my hair down.

I

In 8th grade, who was your best friend? Eighth grade is freshman year of high school, right? In that case, my best friend was Gabie.

Is ignorance bliss? Sometimes it is. I like no longer being updated about Gabie’s life. Back when I still tried to push my way in, I was miserable. I stopped doing so over the holidays and I just stopped reaching out, stopped trying to communicate, everything. I’ve been a lot happier that way.

Is there anything you wanna share? That’s kinda the goal with every survey I take.

Ice Cream or Cake: Right now, maybe ice cream. I’m very picky about cake, and I don’t like the spongy ones aka most cakes I know.

J

Jumped rope for fun: That’s exactly what I use jump ropes for. I don’t think I ever used it for fitness or working out except for maybe PE.

Junk around you right now? I mean, not really. I have my embroidery stuff in a pile beside me, but I don’t consider them junk.

Joining anything anytime soon? Not planning on it. I briefly considered joining a gym as a new thing to do for 2021, but in the end I figured working out at home would be enough. Angela recommended the latter as well, so that’s how I abandoned my gym plans quickly haha.

January or July: I guess July? January always feels just a teeny bit stranger than other months, considering it’s the beginning of a new year.

K

Killed anyone: ...This serious?

Keeping a secret? I keep different secrets from different people.

Kicking someone off your top friends today? I don’t think that’s a thing anymore. Hasn’t been for a while.

Kiwi or Apple: Apple, just because I’ve never had the chance to taste kiwi.

L

Lost anyone close to you: I’ve lived 22 years, of course I have. I’d be very surprised if someone has lived that long but has never experienced losing people, whether from a fallout, from death, etc. Just this year alone I lost a great-aunt on my maternal grandpa’s side, and a ton of relatives from my maternal grandma’s side.

Last kiss, when and who: Gabie, three months ago.

List 3 people that you'll love forever: I can only think of Angela. And of course, Gab.

Lover or Fighter: Fighter, I suppose. I can be relentless. Right now with my breakup has been the only time I allowed myself to take a step back and not forcibly take things under my control for once.

M

Middle School: We don’t follow the concept of middle school here. The levels in middle school fall under elementary school as well.

Marital Status: Single.

Mom's name: Abigail.

Music or TV: TV.

N

Northernmost state you've been to: Batanes, which is as northernmost as northernmost gets in the Philippines.

Nickname: A lot of family members call me Byn, but for the most part Robyn has always been my main nickname.

Name your future boy and girl: I have yet to make up my mind about this.

Naughty or Nice: Nice. I never particularly feel ~naughty, and since the breakup I especially haven’t felt the need to be sexual.

O

Opened a piece of mail that wasn't yours? Sometimes I’ll open the electricity or water bill addressed to my parents out of curiosity just to find out how much we consumed in the last month. But nothing more than that.

Occupation: I’m an associate at a PR agency.

Owe anyone money: Nope.

Outgoing or Shy: Shy at first but I can get outgoing once I’ve warmed up to a person/situation.

P

Place you most want to be? Right now? I’d love to be at a coffee shop or bar at a higher altitude, with a view of the city. I used to go to a lot of these before the pandemic hit, but now I’m thinking of doing it again.

Purposely destroyed someone’s life? No.

Planning a major trip? Not really. Most tourist spots require swab tests and I am not having anything go up my nose.

Pink or Black? Love both, but I like pink ever so slightly more.

Q

Quit a class: I’ve never dropped a class. I’ve wanted to, but there was so much paperwork to fill out to do so and I also didn’t want to be behind on my overall schedule.

Quickly...the first word to come to mind: Whistle, because the pink/black question reminded me of Blackpink.

Quitting your job soon? No lol I’m barely two months in.

Quiet or Loud: I can be both, but these days I’ve been quieter.

R

Riding in an airplane: I have no idea what this is asking.

Ride, tell me about yours: ^ Same.

Running for any political office in the future? No plans to.

Rain or Snow: I guess rain, since it’s the only one I’ve experienced.

S

Siblings names and ages: Nina is 20, my brother is 17.

Shoe size: I fit anywhere between a size 6 to 7.

Shave daily? It used to be daily, but I haven’t had the need to since the quarantine began.

Shower or Bath: Shower.

T

Turning 21 was (will be): It’s been a year since then.

Texas, ever been? No but I have relatives who live there, so it’s one of my choice states to visit and stay at if I ever plan to go to the US.

Think you'll live to be 100? I doubt it. I don’t have any relatives who lived until that age.

Tame or Wild: Idk, tame I guess?? I don’t know what this is asking.

U

Unique quality about you: I feel like this is a question best answered by other people who see and interact with me more than I do myself.

Underwear on? Yeah.

Under your bed lies: Large containers with all the magazines I collected from childhood that I can’t bring myself to throw out.

Under or Over: Idk, you have to be more specific.

V

Virgin? No.

Vacation time left? I have five days left, including today :( I plan to be the most unproductive or bum-y I’ve ever been, because I have no clue when I’ll have a break this long again.

Voting in the next Presidential election? Of course.

Volleyball or Swimming: I like swimming more, but I like watching volleyball.

W

Went white water rafting? I don’t think so, but I would give it a shot.

Wearing right now: A hoodie that’s around two sizes bigger for me.

Write a sentence about you: About anything? I’m a little upset with myself for having been a bit lousy with survey-taking during the holiday break. I planned on taking a lot to catch up on the ones I’ve missed out on, but so far I mostly take just one a day lol.

West Coast or East Coast: East.

X

X-Rays in the past month: 0.

X-Mas plans: Had a get-together with my mom’s side of the family on the 24th; we hosted our own Christmas party on the 25th; and we visited my dad’s side of the family on the 26th.

X, does it mark the spot? Idk.

X-Tina or Britney? Britney.

Y

You lost "it" when? I mean, I’ve had more than one moment where I freaked out...

Your favorite song:  I’m really in love with Saw You In A Dream by The Japanese House. My favorite songs come and go, but this one has been a constant.

Your favorite place on Earth: Sagada.

Yes or No: Idk. I’m not enjoying these vague ass questions.

Z

Zodiac Sign: Taurus.

Zodiac Sign: Idk, I’m still a Taurus.

Zippos are neat, agree? I don’t have an opinion.

Zoo or Circus: Neither.

[let-it-raines]

Emma’s never cared about holidays or cliched traditions like kissing someone at midnight on New Year’s Eve. What she would like, however, is for her boyfriend to at least be in the same city so she could have the option. 

found on ao3 | here | ; word count: ~ 2,700 

-/-

“Twenty.” “That’s what you’re going with? An even twenty?”

“Aye.”

“When has it ever been an even number? That’s too neat.”

“I’m a neat man.”

“You’re a stupid man is what you are.”

“Now, Swan, you’re supposed to kill people with kindness, not insults.”

Emma huffs and grabs her beanie off of her desk and tugs it down over her ears, adjusting her bun so that it doesn’t tug at her head. “You don’t get to say that when you were an asshole to me last night.” “I was not an asshole.”

“You were.” 

“Love, you call me asshole more than you call me by my own name.”

“That’s because I’m a romantic.”

Killian chuckles, and Emma doesn’t fight the urge to roll of her eyes. Of course he would laugh at that. Of course. But she doesn’t blame him. She’s not a romantic. It’s not that she’s never tried or doesn’t want to be one – though some days she really doesn’t – but she doesn’t know how to do it. It’s not in her DNA, and her version of romantic is nothing more than eating the meal Killian wants and then cuddling on the couch or listening to him tell her some story she’s already heard at least two times. It never feels like enough, but he always tells her that it is.

He’s much better at things like planning date nights and picking out perfect gifts and romantic gestures, both grand and small, and her being good at those things is probably never going to be in the cards.

“So twenty calls asking you to come check out the illegal fireworks because people can’t seem to wait for the city-approved show over the harbor?”

“I’m going to go with thirty-three,” Emma finally says, grabbing her gloves and tugging them onto her hands. “It was twenty-nine last year.”

“Ah, yes, and people have become crazier this year then?”

“Exactly.”

There’s a moment of silence and then another, and Emma drops down into her desk chair, flopping on the leather. She should really go and meet David and get ready to do patrol, but she doesn’t want to, not yet.

“Swan?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you,” Killian says, his voice soft and quiet as it comes over her phone’s speaker. “Please be safe out there tonight.”

“Always, KJ,” she promises just like she does before every shift. “I love you, too. Happy New Year. I hope you have fun at Robin’s party while you guys stay inside to watch the ball drop when you’re twenty minutes away from Time’s Square.”

He breathes out through his nose with his laugh. “I’m sure I’ll be home and in bed before the clock strikes midnight. It’s too cold to be out like that.”

“That’s because you’re the oldest twenty-eight-year-old in the world.”

“No, it’s because I have to be up in the morning for my rounds. I’m starting in a new department, remember?”

“I know, I know.” “Emma,” David calls out, and she snaps her head up to look at David across the bullpen, “it’s time to go.”

“I’ll be right there,” she says to David before standing from her seat. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year, love.”

“That your big, fancy New York boyfriend?”

“Shut it, Scarlet,” Emma mumbles, ignoring Will and his teasing smirk to walk toward David.

“So it was him?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Tell him to bring some more of those bagels next time he comes to visit. That was a real thoughtful gesture.”

Emma huffs and keeps ignoring Will to walk toward David, pushing past him to go out the front doors of the station so she can start her patrol shift and get this night over with.

Happy New Year and all that.

-/-

“What number call is that?”

“Nine.”

“That’s pretty low for the night.”

“Yeah, well, it is only eight. We’ve still got hours to go and several people who don’t care to follow the fireworks law.”

David hums and turns the wheel of the SUV so they can get out of downtown Boston and move toward North End. Holidays are always the craziest nights of the years for them. It’s triple the regular crazy, especially with the amount of drunk drivers they pull over, but all in all, holidays are some of Emma’s favorite nights of the year, even if she has to work through them. And she’s worked pretty much every holiday for the past five years. She’s not married, doesn’t have kids, doesn’t have parents, and there’s no reason for her to not offer to take a shift so that someone who wants to spend time with their family can have the day off.

(She can take her days off on other days where stores are actually open and she can get delivery without feeling guilty that the delivery guy is working.)

Emma’s never had a reason to want to spend holidays with people or to want to have the day off, but then she met Killian last year at the Nolan’s fourth of July barbecue (which actually happened on the sixth, but whatever), and she wants to have a day off to spend time with him.

But that doesn’t work anyways. She’s in Boston, he’s in New York, and their schedules don’t match up for holidays. Random weekends and Emma using her vacation days in the middle of the week, sure, but holidays, not so much.

God, she misses him.

“Why are you staring out the window?”

“Hmmm?”

“Why are you staring out the window?” David repeats. “You’re looking all starry eyed and such.”

Emma snaps out of her thoughts and adjusts her position in her seat until she’s turning the sound of David’s podcast down. He’s listening to one on how to keep your rooftop garden intact, and of all of his podcasts, this is the one she’s least interested in.

“Nothing. I think I’m just tired. Can we stop for a coffee next time we pass a shop?”

“Sure. No problem.”

David doesn’t question her more or bother her for the rest of her shift. Either he knows she doesn’t want to talk about it or is so damn oblivious that he doesn’t realize there’s something she might want to talk about, but Emma isn’t going to complain, not when the shift keeps going by as quickly as humanly possible.

They make traffic stops and deal with phone calls about loud music and illegal fireworks (they’re at twenty-one now) and drink copious amounts of coffee as Emma keeps yawning.

(She also eats two giant bear claws, but she doesn’t really like falling into the stereotype of cops simply sitting around drinking coffee and eating donuts.)

At two minutes until midnight, the world quiets for a bit, everyone captivated by watching the ball drop on television or settling around the harbor for city-approved fireworks that knock your socks off with the view. Or maybe they’re all too busy drinking or finding someone to kiss. That’s what David is doing. The kiss part. Not the drinking on the job. That’d get him fired.

Mary Margaret meets them in the parking lot of a gas station, and she and David stand close together in the cold, flakes of snow falling down around them as they talk and laugh until fireworks go off at midnight so they can kiss like the cheesy, sentimental fools that they are.

The sentimental fools who are in love enough that Mary Margaret would come out in the cold just to kiss her husband at midnight when she could kiss him when he got home.

Emma’s cheeks heat with blush when she realizes that she’s watching them, and she quickly turns away and looks down at her phone to open up her texts. Killian hasn’t texted her back for an hour or so now, and she knows that he’s asleep. He’s always falling asleep early in order to wake up early, whether he has work or not, and it kind of drives her crazy.

“I like to watch the sun rise, love. It’s a beautiful beginning to my day every time, but not as beautiful as you.”

“I can’t tell if that was cheesy or romantic.”

“Both. Definitely both.”

He may not see it, but she texts him anyways.

Emma: Happy New Year! 😘

“Happy New Year, Emma,” Mary Margaret says, popping up next to Emma’s window and scaring the absolute shit out of her. “I brought you guys some grilled cheese sandwiches to keep you warm.”

“You’re an actual saint.”

“That’s the goal.”

Emma laughs, and it’s not a fake one despite the heavy pit in her stomach, and accepts the foil wrapped sandwiches from Mary Margaret. “Thank you, Marg. Now go home and be safe, okay?”

“The same to you guys. Enjoy the sandwiches.”

-/-

It’s a quarter until five when she walks in the front door of her apartment. The lights are dimmed, her black-out curtains pulled in preparation for the sun rising, and after a night that never seemed to end toward the last few hours of her shift, she’s finally home and ready to go to sleep.

She didn’t wear makeup today, so that means she can go to sleep without washing her face and brushing her teeth, right? (Emma knows that it’s gross, but she doesn’t care.

She’ll brush her teeth three times tomorrow.)

Toeing her shoes off and dropping her keys and her wallet onto the entryway table, Emma starts moving in her apartment only to hear the creaking of footsteps on the other side of her place.

Shit.

Quickly, she turns on her heels and moves to find something, anything to use as a weapon. Her police-issued gun is in her locker at the precinct and the one she keeps at home is in her bedside drawer. All she can see that would be of any use is a knife she left on the counter, so she grabs that and walks toward the sound, praying and hoping it was her imagination but knowing it wasn’t.

Then the lights in the hallway flicker on.

“Swan.”

And suddenly Killian is standing in front of her in nothing other than a pair of low-slung gray sweatpants, his hipbones showing and the little trail of hair she knows so well disappearing beneath the material. He blinks, and so does she. This can’t be real. It can’t. He should be in his shitty apartment in Queens with his obnoxious roommate, and he should be fast asleep so he can be up early for his first day in his new rotation for his residency.

He shouldn’t be here.

He can’t be here.

But he is.

After placing the knife down, Emma practically catapults herself forward until she’s running into him and slamming her lips into his. Her hands quickly move from his shoulders up into his hair, and while Killian still seems to still be in shock from her jumping on him.

He’s in her apartment when he’s not supposed to be. What did he expect? 

But then his mouth is warmly moving over hers, minty toothpaste she was going to avoid invading her senses, and his arm is wrapping over her entire back until his hand is in her hair, tugging her closer and pulling her body flush against his. Everything about him is warm, from his hips to his chest to his lips, and she doesn’t want to leave him. She can’t. It’s been five weeks since she last saw him, five weeks since she last got to feel the softness of his lips and the scratchy roughness of his beard, and she’s consumed by him.

All she wants is him, always.

(And he’s a damn good kisser, so that’s a definite plus.)

“How are you here?” she giggles out, pressing her lips into his cheek.

“I traded shifts around, worked a million graveyards and doubles and worked my ass off until I could get a few days off.”

“I mean,” she laughs, brushing her lips against his left cheek now while her hands trail down over his back, scratching into his skin. He smells so much like him and the body wash that he left a bottle of in her apartment. “What?”

“I lied about my schedule to surprise you. I – ”

She kisses him again. Her entire body is alight with happiness, all of the tiredness fading away and being replaced by the energy of a two-year-old on a sugar high, and she absolutely cannot believe this.

“I don’t care how. Just that you are.”

Killian chuckles and pulls back from the kiss to press his forehead against hers, his nose squishing into her cheek while his prosthetic rubs over her back. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you a kiss at midnight. My plan couldn’t quite figure that out.”

“Please, they’re overrated. Five in the morning is much better.”

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely. I love you, you know?”

“I do know, Swan. I’m absolutely in love with you too.” His lips move over hers, slow and thorough until a heat is curling deep in her belly and until her skin is covered in goosebumps. “Hey, how many calls did you get about illegal fireworks tonight?”

“Thirty-seven.” “Ah, so we were both wrong.” “Yeah, but I was a hell of a lot closer.”

Killian leans his head back with laughter, and Emma moves to nuzzle herself there, running her lips across his skin in hot, open-mouthed kisses. She might not feel tired, but she probably needs to go to sleep. Killian likely does too, but right now, she can’t think of anything other than stripping him out of his clothes and straddling his lap.

It’s exactly what she does, what they both do. Neither of them can stop laughing, joy and excitement still overflowing, but they do manage to strip each other out of their clothes until there’s a pile at her bedroom down. Killian’s lips leave warm marks against her jaw, her collarbone, her breasts, and her nails scratch down his back until they’re stumbling onto the bed and Emma is crawling over Killian.

He stretches her when he enters hers, and she sighs at the fullness of having him inside of her again. This isn’t a feeling that can be replicated, and seeing the look on Killian’s face – a mixture of pure bliss and desire for more – is priceless. Absolutely priceless.

She cannot believe he’s here.

That he did this to see her.

Stupid, wonderful man.

Emma controls the strokes at first, keeping the slow and deep so that Killian’s nails are digging into the her hip and his brows are pinched together in pleasure, but it doesn’t stay that way for long. It’s too slow, and as slow and careful as some of their reunions can be, what she needs now is fast and desperate, a quick coming together so that her heartbeat is elevated and her body is humming in pleasure.

Killian gives all of that to her more.

Afterwards, when the sweat is cooling on their skin and the night sky is fading away into the barest hints of sunlight outside, Emma kisses Killian’s chest over the small smattering of bird tattoos that reside there. He had them before they met, and Killian jokes about it being some kind of sign that he either had to fall in love with a woman with the last name of a bird or give up being a doctor to go off and study ornithology.

(The tattoos are for his mother, but he rarely likes to talk about that.)

“I’m sorry I didn’t come up with a grand romantic gesture for you,” Emma whispers while running her hands through the thick tufts of hair in his chest.

“Yeah, well,” Killian whispers, pulling her closer in his arms before he tucks her hair behind her ear, “you’re all I need anyways.”

-/-

His placement for his fellowship the next year is in Boston, and both of them have off for New Year’s. It’s practically a miracle.

They’re both asleep before midnight.

It’s okay. Kisses at five in the morning are better.

They’re also far more frequent since they now live together.

(Finally.)

-/-

-/-

Happy New Year, everyone ❤️🎉

one-shot tag list: @shardminds​ @stahlop​ @captainsjedi  @galaxyzxstark @thejollyroger-writer @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @xellewoods​ @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @shireness-says​ @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @a-faekindagirl @ultimiflos @jamif @dreameronarooftop15 @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke  @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @teamhook @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @superchocovian @ultraluckycatnd @cs-forlife @andiirivera @qualitycoffeethings @jonirobinson64 @mariakov81​ @spartanguard​ @carpedzem​

[spine-buster]

Alone, Together | Chapter 34 | Morgan Rielly

A/N:  Some might consider this a little bit of a filler chapter, but I actually think it’s a really important piece in establishing Bee as a person.  Anywho...hope you guys enjoy!  The next two chapters they are back in the West Coast, so you know what that means..........😇

It was going to take a while for Bee to comes to terms with the fact that two of her best friends were leaving Toronto.  In the past ten days, she had tried to feel less selfish about the situation – how it affected her and how her life would change, how sad she was about it and how she was going to cope with it – and instead focus on the positives – how Tyler being in Ottawa would be a good leadership opportunity for him on a young team, and how Naz being traded to Colorado meant he would still be on a Cup-contending team.  She tried to think about the positives for Ashley, too – how Denver was a beautiful city to raise a family in.  How the media would still be loud but much quieter than the media in Toronto.  How she’d probably be able to check her Instagram and not have DMs flood her inbox or have bunny blogs gossip about her shopping habits at Holt Renfrew based on information they heard from their sister’s friend’s brother’s girlfriend’s hairstylist’s dog walker’s niece who saw her buy her second Yves Saint Laurent bag of the month.  

It would be okay.

Bee had to believe it would be okay.  Because if any doubt arose in her about the situation, she’d have another crying episode like she did that night of July 1st, where Morgan had to hold her all night, assuring her that everything would be okay, giving her the only answers he could.  She kept trying to think of the positives.  She didn’t do things to distract herself from the situation – she genuinely internalized the reality of the situation and tried to see the positives as much as possible.  It would make her feel better, she thought, about everything.  And Morgan – bless him – was helping as much as he could.  He knew better than anybody that it wouldn’t be easy for her, and so he took it upon himself to ease the pain.  No small feat.  But he did, because he loved her, because he wanted to see genuine smiles and laughs from her instead of forced happiness.  He started a countdown to their vacation to Vancouver.  He told her about how nice Tyson Barrie and Alexander Kerfoot (Kerfy, apparently) were, and how she’d like them.  How Kerfy was already a good friend because they had grown up together and played together in Vancouver.  He bought her bigger bouquets of flowers.  They got ice cream more often.  He let her cuddle into him however and whenever she wanted, and let her fall asleep on his chest with their limbs entwined and he’d carry her to bed, holding her in his arms the entire time.

Despite the emotional minefield that was July 1st, in the following days, she managed to register herself to write the first exam for her CFA certification in December, and she passed her driving test.  She was officially a G2 class driver.  Life had to move on.  It always did.  The only thing constant is change.  

So when Morgan told her to get in the car, because he was going to take her somewhere, that it was a surprise, she was excited to.  The last time he did so they ended up in Muskoka making love for an entire weekend.  She even offered to drive there, but he said that wouldn’t be necessary, because it would spoil the surprise.  So she hopped in the passenger’s seat.  They got on the highway.  And they travelled north.  Like, really north.  North of the city, to the suburb of Vaughan, where Bee noticed Morgan turn into the driveway of Pfaff Auto, where he had gotten his Porsche, a small smile on his face as they parked the car near the front.  

“What are we doing here?” she asked as he turned off the ignition.  

“What do you think?” he asked rhetorically.  

Before she could answer, Bee noticed a man in a suit outside Morgan’s window, and she nodded her head towards it so it could grab Morgan’s attention.  The man waved enthusiastically and Morgan opened the door.  “Santi!  Hey!”

“Morgan!  Nice to see you bud!” he said as Morgan opened the door.  “This must be Bee!” Santi waved at her.  “How are you Bee?”

“I’m…good,” she said awkwardly as she saw Morgan start to get out of the car.  She followed suit and walked around to where the men were standing.  

“Morgan mentioned how you had passed your driving test.  Congratulations!” Santi said.  “We thought it would be a great idea to bring you in and welcome you into the Pfaff Family!”

“Oh?” Bee looked between Santi and Morgan.  She stood stiff in between the two men.  “Am I…you…you didn’t bring me here to pick out a car, did you?” she asked Morgan, who only smiled.  “Morgan.”

“Don’t Morgan me,” he said, his response every single time she said his name in that tone of voice.  “Let’s go inside and see our options, hmm?”

Bee didn’t really have a choice.  They were already there, Santi was already smiling and waving and ready to show her cars, and when they walked inside, other employees waved and shook hands and it was all very nice, but Bee didn’t know what to do.  She wondered if anybody could see how out of her element she was.  She felt like a visiting Princess Kate being given a tour of something she had no clue about, smiling and nodding along and asking basic questions about things to make it seem like she understood what they were talking about and comfortable with what was going on around her.  But she wasn’t.  For a person who had never owned a car before, and who had only been in the very basic cars of her friends, she really didn’t have a clue.  She knew the names, obviously, but everything else was extra.  Everything else was so…extravagant.  

Santi was nice.  Warm.  Accommodating.  To his credit, he was an excellent salesman and knowledgeable of every little detail about every car or SUV they saw or sat in.  He would usher her into the driver’s seat, he’d get into the passenger’s seat, and Morgan would slip in the backseat, and he’d go on and on about all the features.  The leather seats.  The luxury interior.  The beeping sensors for when you were reversing.  GPS Navigation.  The backup cameras.  The sunroofs.  The option for add-on DVD players for the backseat.  Luxury add-ons here.  Luxury add-ons there.

Bee had to write down all the names of the cars so she could remember them all.  The Porsche Cayenne Sport, the Mercedes Benz GLS 450, the BMW X7 xDrive 50i, the Porsche Macan Sport, the BMW Alpina B7 xDrive, the Audi A8 L 55, the BMW M5 Competition, the Mercedes Benz S-Class.  It was all so overwhelming.  There were so many things to remember.  Santi didn’t even mention gas mileage.  He didn’t mention how much it cost to fill up a tank of gas, how expensive it was to insure these cars, how expensive they were even just to maintain.  She got more and more nervous the more she thought about it.  It filled her with anxiety, being in something that was so expensive.  

These cars weren’t for her.

“What’s the price point you’re looking for?” Santi asked as they sat together in the BMW X7.  It was a beautiful crossover, no doubt, and Bee liked it, as objectively as she could like a car this expensive.  

“We’re not thinking about that today,” Morgan butt in from the backseat.  Santi gave him a smile.  She looked at him through the rear-view mirror.  

“What a guy, eh?” Santi joked, nodding his head towards Morgan.  “We’ll take care of you guys, anyway.  When Chris comes in he’ll arrange all that.  He’ll be so happy to see you.”

“Who’s Chris?” Bee finally piped up.

“Chris Pfaff, the president and CEO,” Santi said.  “After Morgan and I chose the Porsche last year Chris made sure Morgan was taken care of.  And with Morgan referring some of the other Leafs to us, there’s no way we’re not going to take care of you again.”

Bee wondered what Santi meant when he said ‘take care’, but she knew if she asked she’d seem like an idiot.  Maybe it just meant they got a good deal on the car or something.  A discount.  An add-on for only half the price.  $100 in gas gift cards, like she always saw advertised on TV.  

After what seemed like sitting in the millionth car, Santi was called away briefly, leaving Morgan and Bee alone for the first time since they parked.  They stood beside an immaculate Range Rover.  Bee looked over at Morgan, who was already looking at her.  “What do you think?” he asked her.

“I don’t want to make a decision today,” she said, knowing he wouldn’t know why.  He seemed to be having the time of his life being in all the cars.  She never understood boys’ fascination with them.

“What?”

“I don’t want to make a decision today.  I don’t…” she shook her head slightly, biting on her nail.  “I want to think about it.”

“But they--”

“I want to do my own research,” she interrupted him, not wanting to get into it now.  “I just want to go home with all the information he gave me and I want to do my own research and make my own decision.”

Morgan looked at her for a moment.  He studied her.  He saw the biting of the nail and saw her furrowed eyebrows and he nodded his head.  “Okay.  Okay.  We’ll let Santi know.”

Santi gave Bee his card and told her to call him when she made her decision.  She thanked him endlessly for all his help and information, and she and Morgan left Pfaff, beginning the long trek back downtown to their place.  Bee sat looking out the window, not saying a word, mulling over everything going on inside her head.  Morgan would take occasional glances at her, allowing them to sit in silence until they pulled into the parking garage and into their designated spot.  He knew something was going on and he wanted to know.  

“What’s wrong?”

Bee felt ashamed.  She couldn’t even look at him even though she knew he was looking directly at her.  “I don’t want any of those cars,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“What?”

“I don’t want any of those cars,” she said a bit louder so he could hear.  “I don’t…I don’t need any of those cars.”

“What do you mean you don’t need any of those cars?”

She sighed.  “I only need a car that can get me from A to B.  I’m not even going to drive it to work.  The most I’ll be driving it is up to Rocco and Clarette’s house or to go grocery shopping.  Maybe to go visit Aryne and John.  I don’t think I need a ninety thousand dollar SUV to do that.”

Morgan shifted in his seat.  “Okay…I get that,” he admitted.  “But…I mean, they can help us, you know?  The guys at Pfaff can take care of us.”

“Why do you guys keep saying that?  What does that even mean?” she asked, her voice more assertive now.  

“They can gift it to us, Briony.  Like the Porsche.”

Bee whipped her head towards Morgan.  “Gift it to us?  Like the Porsche?”

“Yeah.”

“You…” she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.  “You’re telling me this Porsche is a gift.”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t pay a lease payment on this thing?”

“No.”

“A financing payment?”

“No.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” she exclaimed.  “This entire fucking time we’ve been driving this car you haven’t had to pay a cent on it except for gas and insurance?” she asked.  Morgan nodded his head.  “What the fuck, Morgan?!”

“Why are you so angry?” he asked, remaining the calm one in the conversation.

“We don’t need a free car!” she yelled, unable to hold her emotions back any longer.  “We have the money to pay for a car!  We have the money to pay for any car we fucking want to and you’re telling me you’re paying nothing?!  We should be paying for a car!”

“What’s the big deal?” Morgan questioned.  

“It’s the principle!” she began.  “This is exactly what’s wrong with this entire fucking system.  I grew up with literally nothing by no fault of my own and I was still expected to pay my whole way through whatever came up in my life.  You – and I don’t mean you specifically Morgan, but people like you, other hockey players and those stupid Instagram influencer girls from here just dying to hang out with you guys for status and clout – you guys have all this money and yet you get everything for free so long as you put it on your Instagram.  It’s not fair.  It’s not fair when so many fucking people in this city are struggling to get by and working their asses off at minimum wage jobs just to afford rent and the Toronto Maple Leafs are getting free luxury cars.”

Morgan stayed quiet.  He knew she was right, like with most things, and he had never considered her perspective before.  He had failed to consider the entire situation from her perspective.  It was hard for him.  He just thought it would be a nice day out.  Go to a dealership, pick out a car.  He’d take care of it for her, like he promised her he would with everything on that dock in Muskoka.  And although she had accepted that, this wasn’t the way she wanted him to go about “taking care” of things.  She obviously wanted to do everything fairly.  “Briony…”

“I can’t believe you never told me this car was a gift,” she said, her voice much calmer now.  “Look, I’m sorry I raised my voice.  But we’re not poor.  We can afford the financing or lease payments on any car I choose to get.  And that’s the way it’s gonna be.”

“Okay,” Morgan nodded his head, his voice soft.  “Okay.  We can do that.”

“I can do that,” she corrected.  “I want to pay for my own car.  This entire time I’ve been saving my money and I can afford it.  I’ve budgeted it out.”

“But Briony--”

“Morgan--”

“I told you in Muskoka that I wanted to give you the things you want and need in life without you being uncomfortable about it.  That I didn’t want you to worry about anything ever again.”

“I know, Morgan, but please, please, you have to let me do this for myself.  Please,” she was practically begging.  “I know you want to do that for me.  I know.  That’s why you brought me to Pfaff today.  And I love you and I appreciate it and you know I do but I’m doing this for me.  You…you have no idea what it means to be to be able to buy my own car with my own money.”

Morgan could hear by the tone in her voice how much this meant for her.  He couldn’t deny that he wanted to do this for her – to get her whatever car she wanted, luxury or not – but he also couldn’t deny her the opportunity of being able to get a car herself.  For her, it was independence.  It was investing in something she never had the opportunity to before.  It meant having something of her own, when her whole life, she didn’t have anything to her name.  Who was he to deny her that?

“Okay,” he nodded his head again.  “Alright, okay.  I’m sorry Briony.”

“There is no need for you to apologize,” she said, reaching over the console to grab his hand.  “I should be the one who is sorry for raising my voice.  I just…I felt overwhelmed in there.  It was fun but overwhelming.  You’re the best boyfriend in the world for doing something like that for me.  You probably think I’m insane.”

“Why would I think that?”

Bee gave him a look.  “A girl rejecting a luxury car so she could get a cheaper one?  Who does that?”

Morgan smiled slightly, shaking his head.  He leaned over the console to give her a kiss.  “Briony McTavish does that,” he whispered once he pulled away.  “And that’s why I love her.”

“Oh yeah?” Bee smiled slightly.  

“Mhm,” Morgan kissed her again.  “You’re something else, Briony.  I’d do anything for you.  And this means so much to you.  You’ve put your mind to it.  You’ve budgeted it out and you know you’re going to be okay and that you won’t have to worry.  I would never take that away from you.”

Before their conversation could advance any further, Morgan’s phone started to ring through the Bluetooth system in the car.  On the screen on the dash, Nazem’s name flashed.  “We’ll continue this later,” he said before answering the call.  “Naz!  What’s up?  You’re on speaker with me and Bee.”

“Hey guys,” he said into the phone.  “You uh…you guys might want to make your way to Toronto General.”

“Why?” Morgan asked.  

From beside him, Bee’s jaw dropped.  “Ohmygod Naz, did Ashley have the baby?”

“Come quick.  Come meet her,” he said, a slight giggle in his voice.  

“Her?!” Bee screamed.  “Her?!  Ohmygod we’re on our way right now.”

***

“Here she is.  Baby Naylah,” Naz was smiling from ear to ear as he led Morgan and Bee through the doorway to Ashley’s room.  John and Aryne were already there, Aryne sitting in a chair and John leaning against the windowsill as Ashley cradled the tiny baby in her arms.

“Heeeyyyy,” Ashley said gently, a beaming smile on her face.  “She’s here.  She’s finally here.”

“Oh, Ashley…” Bee cooed, catching a glimpse of the little girl’s face tucked between the swaddling blanket and little hat on her head.  “Ashley, she’s absolutely beautiful.”

“How you feeling, momma?” Morgan smiled.  

“Labour was about eight hours, but everything was fine,” Ashley said.  “We came in yesterday around this time.  We’ve just been in our own little world with her until now.”

Morgan smiled and looked at Naz.  “Nazem Kadri, father,” he shook his head.  “Lord help us all.”

“That’s what I said,” John said as everybody laughed.  “Father to a girl, nonetheless.  She’s gonna make you the biggest sap in the universe.”

“She’s already got me wrapped around her little finger,” Naz shrugged his shoulders, admitting defeat.  He was still beaming, still on a high from welcoming his daughter into the world.  “I’ll admit it.  She’s gonna get whatever she wants.”

“You wanna hold her, Aunt Bee?” Ashley offered.  

Bee’s jaw dropped again.  “Oh my God.  Oh my God.  Can I?”

“She’s very calm.  She just woke up and might need a feeding soon so it’s your only chance,” Ashley smiled.  Bee moved closer towards her as Ashley placed Naylah delicately in her arms.  “Make sure you support her head.  She’s swaddled so she should be fine.”

Bee held Naylah close to her chest, rocking her back and forth.  She heard Naylah make little noises and watched as Naylah’s eyes looked up at her, studying her closely.  She knew this random, strange lady was definitely not her mom.  “Hi Naylah,” Bee cooed.  “I’m your Aunt Bee.  I’m so glad you’re finally here.”  She continued to look down at the tiny baby in her arms, marvelling at her little expressions and tiny features.  She couldn’t believe she was finally holding her.

Bee looked up briefly to see everybody smiling at her.  “Looks like you’re still the baby whisperer, Bee,” Aryne giggled, resting her hand on her bump.  “You’re gonna be back here in two months doing this all over again.”

“Bring it on,” she said, continuing to rock Naylah back and forth and cradling her small head in her hand.  “Give me all the babies and the babysitting duties and I’ll be one happy camper.”

As if on cue, Naylah began fussing a little bit, her eyes closing and lips pursing.  “Uh oh.  Spoke too soon,” Bee said.  She tried to calm her down but the attempt was futile.  Naylah continued to purse her lips until she let out a small cry.  “Looks like someone is hungry again.”

“That’s our cue,” Aryne said, standing up from her seat.  “We’ll wait outside until she’s done, maybe go grab some coffee.”

“I’ll let you guys know,” Naz said as they all began to exit.  “My sisters are coming back soon, too.  You might see them.”

John and Morgan decided to hang out in the waiting room while Aryne and Bee decided to go for a coffee run to the Starbucks.  As they were waiting for everybody’s drinks, Bee told Aryne what she and Morgan had been up to that day at Pfaff and the discussion they’d had in the car.  Bee explained her reasoning.  Morgan’s reaction.  Her insistence on getting the car on her own.  

Aryne sipped on her own coffee as she listened to Bee.  “You’ve always been really principled,” she said.  “You don’t need to apologize for anything.  I get where you’re coming from.  But I also understand where Morgan was coming from.  Especially after what you told me he said in Muskoka.  Like, I get him wanting to do that for you.”

“Me too,” Bee said.  “And I promised him I’d try to stop feeling uncomfortable about it.  And I have – I mean, the trip back to Vancouver and this bracelet are perfect examples of that,” she said, flashing the Cartier love bracelet that was still on her wrist.  “But I…a car is different.  I never thought I’d have a car.  Now I have an opportunity to get one.  I want to get one that’s economical.  I don’t want to get a BMW or Mercedes just because I can – well, just because Morgan can.  I can’t afford one of those cars on my own.  Morgan’s wanted me to save my money all this time anyway.  It’s only logical I use it to make the biggest purchase of my life thus far, right?”

“You don’t need to defend yourself, Bee, especially if it’s your own money,” Aryne said.  “Especially if it’s your own money.  Whatever you buy with what you’ve earned yourself is a big fuck you to everyone.  Car, designer bag, shoes, a book – whatever.  Fuck anybody who criticizes you.”

Bee was so thankful for Aryne.  Whenever she needed a voice of reason, someone to guide her through this crazy life and help her make decisions, she knew Aryne would always be there for her.  “You’re the best, you know that?” Bee smiled.

“You’ve told me that once or twice,” Aryne winked.  “Listen…on a similar vein of fuck-you purchases and people criticizing you, I need to ask you a question and I need you to be one hundred percent honest with me.”

Bee noticed her sudden shift in tone.  “Okay…”

“What did Sydney say to you?”

Bee was speechless.  “Wha…” she stuttered out.  “What do you mean?”

“I saw her comment on Morgan’s post for your graduation, and I saw what Morgan responded,” she explained.  “She had to have said something.  So what was it and when did she say it?”

Bee took a deep breath.  She wondered if she should just run out of the hospital to avoid this conversation.  “Aryne…she’s your friend.  I don’t feel comf--”

“What did she say, Bee?”

Bee gulped.  “Um, so it was the day of your baby shower,” Bee began.  “Ashley picked us up and we were driving through Moss Park to get on the DVP and she called it the ghetto.  When we came up on a red light I pointed out a building where I used to live and I told her how I grew up there and she was like ‘Well, thank God you got out’.”

“So that’s why Morgan made the ghetto comment,” Aryne connected the two together.  Bee nodded her head.  “How did Morgan find out?”

“Zach told him, sort of accidentally.  Because Alannah was there too and she was really upset about everything that happened and --”

“What else happened?” Aryne interjected.  Bee felt like crawling into a hole and dying.  “What do you mean ‘everything that happened’?  What else was there?”

“Um…I…” Bee tried to look for an escape.  “Listen.  Um, Morgan doesn’t know this part.  He only knows about the ghetto comment.  But Sydney…she, uh…she kind of kept making these comments…”

“About what?”

“About me.”

Aryne’s eyes darkened.  “What did she say.”

“It’s really not--”

“Briony,” Aryne’s voice was firm.  “What did she say.”

“It wasn’t a big deal, Aryne.  I dealt with it.  She uh, she sort of kept making, um, comments about my body.  Saying it was good that I chose that dress I wore with vertical stripes because they were slimming and that’s why it looked good.  And then Alannah asked about a deal on yoga pants I got and Sydney piped in and said she could recommend a personal trainer for me and that they’d ‘definitely help me with everything I need done’,” Bee used air quotes because she remembered the words said to her so vividly.  

“She said what?” Aryne seethed.  “Are you kidding me?”

“Aryne, it wasn’t a big deal.  I confronted her about it in the bathroom afterwards.  It was dealt with.”

“This happened during my baby shower?” she asked, her face utterly disgusted at what had transpired.  “What the hell is wrong with her?”

“Listen, I’m going to give her the benefit of the doubt.  She was stressed about the wedding and--”

“Don’t give her the benefit of the doubt.  God, Bee, do not give her the benefit of the doubt.  You’re being too nice.  She was my friend in Long Island and I’m absolutely horrified she’d say something like that to you.”

“It’s not…” Bee began, shaking her head.  “My mom used to say stuff like that all the time.  She used to tell me I’d end up alone because nobody likes smart chubby girls.  It’s okay.  And it’s not like I haven’t heard it before in DMs.  You know what they look like.”

Aryne gave her a look – one mixed with the anger she was feeling but also with sadness at what Bee was revealing.  Aryne couldn’t imagine a mother saying something like that to a daughter.  “Bee, just because your mom used to say that sort of stuff to you, it doesn’t make it okay,” she stressed, reaching out to hold her hand.  “Nobody deserves comments like that being said about them.”

“I know.  But when that sort of stuff is said to me, people who mean nothing to me always say it.  My mom.  Fangirls.  Sydney,” Bee said.  “I told her that.  I told her she meant nothing to me and that even if she didn’t like me she needed to respect me--”

“Good.”

“—and I told her not to take me for a fucking idiot,” Bee couldn’t help but smile.  She was still sort of proud of herself for pulling out that line in the washroom.  “I think Sydney thinks she needs to put on a mix of this ‘I don’t give a fuck’ and ‘I’m the Queen B cool girl’ persona because that’s the image she’s built for herself and she lets it get to her head.  The fact that she grew up with a lot of privilege hasn’t helped that.  But I dealt with it.  She got married and had a beautiful wedding.  I’m still chubby.  It’s done.”

“Okay, but wait…” Aryne furrowed her brows.  “Morgan only knows about the ghetto comment?  Why?”

“That’s all Zach told him.”

“And you didn’t tell Morgan what you just told me?” Aryne asked.  Bee shook her head.  “Why not?”

It was Bee’s turn to give Aryne a look.  “I’m sorry, have you met my boyfriend, Morgan Frederick Rielly?” she asked, causing Aryne to giggle.  “God knows what he’d say to Syd – or Matt – if he found out.  He’d drop a nuke on Long Island if he could.”

“He is really protective of you out in the public sphere,” Aryne digressed.

“Exactly.  He had to make a phone call to Steve Keogh on Canada Day to try and solve my incessant DM issue,” Bee informed Aryne, who already knew all about the DMs sent on Canada Day.  “Despite Morgan’s best efforts he couldn’t get Steve to fly back from Europe, where he’s on vacation with his family, to handle the situation immediately.”

Aryne snorted.  “What a guy.”

“You’re telling me.”

“So then what’s the next step?” Aryne asked, fixating all the drinks into the Styrofoam holder the barista provided.

“With what?” Bee asked.

“Everything.”

Bee shrugged her shoulders.  “Just live my life.”

***

@brionymctavish: my first car!

@angiefavs: WE MATCH!!!!!

@morganrielly: lookin cute

@alynntavares: LOVE IT BEE!  I know how much this means to you!

@enzosauce: can you drive it out to Edmonton for a visit?

@stephlanchancee: um is that a Honda Civic?

                       @brionymctavish: Yup!  First one ever!

@lucygardiner_: congrats Bee!  Can’t wait to zip around town with you!

@frederikandersen31: I hope I fit in there

                       @brionymctavish: I’ll stuff you into the trunk if need be

[shakespeareanwannabe]

Engineering the Future

Hi everyone! So this is my second Supernatural fic, the first one I cross-posted here on Tumblr, though I have written a couple of other things on this wonderful series. So here’s the thing: this is a bit of a project that I’ve been working on to keep myself writing even when I feel like I have nothing to say.

So here’s the deal: I’m going to write one one-shot per episode. Multiple friends say that I’m driving myself to drink, but so far it’s been fairly smooth sailing. If you guys have any ideas about certain episodes, I’d be happy to hear them, but know that I’ve got a list of prompts for three quarters of the episodes, so I may not write your prompt. But I’d love to hear your ideas. Just, no Wincest or Destiel because I honestly don’t ship either of them (no hate please, it’s just the way I feel. And no, I don’t hate anyone who does ship them). Just brotherly love here!

This chapter is tagged to episode 1x01, Pilot. Hope you all enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. This is a work of fiction based on characters from The CW’s Supernatural, created by Eric Kripke.

To completely plagiarize someone else, “Being his real brother I could feel I lived in his shadows, but I never have and I do not now. I live in his glow.” Who said that? Why was his relationship with his brother so important? Doesn’t matter. This isn’t about him. This is about them, and the moments we don’t get to see.

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

Dean had imagined this day since that balmy July evening when a rickety tin door had slammed shut and seemingly separated his family forever.

Depending on his mood, there were several different scenarios that would play out. When he was at the bottom of his third bottle, he would imagine showing up at his front door, having him open the door, stare at him, then shut it again without a word. The second bottle was kinder, allowing them to pass on the streets, perhaps nodding at each other before the one went on with his normal life, leaving the other to thank a God that he didn’t believe in that he had at least seen him one last time. The first bottle didn’t give him enough hope to even attempt to dream up a reunion with his little brother.

The fourth bottle was Dean’s favourite. He would get an excited phone call and drive all the way to Stanford just so that Sam could tell him he was getting married face to face. They would settle into a table at some hoity-toity bar or into a booth at some frou-frou café and would talk as though no time had passed. The natural lighting would fade to black and neither of them would move. Topics of conversation would wax and wane until they found themselves in the same companionable silence that graced the majority of their childhood together.

Sam would eventually sigh sadly and mutter something about having to be in court early the next morning, to which Dean would make a crude joke that would have Sam blushing behind the ears as he laughed. Dean would walk him to his car and deal with the chick-flicky hug bestowed upon him by a drunk and/or over-caffeinated Little Brother. As they pull apart, Sam would get all shy and red again as he stammered through saying that he hoped Dean would be his Best Man (because screw this Brady kid that introduced the happy couple). Dean would laugh, hug his brother, completely deny the tears in his eyes, and say “Who else could fill those shoes, bitch?”

Dean would hang around in California for a couple of months and relish in being stationary for the first time since he was four. He would meet Jessica, automatically start calling her Jessie, and plan a small bachelor party for Sammy and his college pals before taking his kid brother on a kick ass, blow out ‘Brochelor’ party in Vegas to make up for every birthday, Christmas, and any other calendar holiday that they had missed out on. On the day of the wedding he would straighten out his brother’s tie, all the while denying that he had asked the guy at the store how to do so. He would give the kid the picture of Mom that he carried around in his wallet with the explanation that she needed to be there with him on this day. He would stand up next to his little brother during the ceremony, give the most awesome speech ever written during the reception, and dance with his new sister-in-law when the time came.

While he and the other, less important guests waved the happy couple off (he had even given them the Impala to borrow for their honeymoon road trip up the Pacific Coast Highway) he would get a phone call from Dad, saying that he had finally pinned down the son of a bitch who had killed Mom, and that he needed his son there with him. Dean would hotwire a car and go. He’d stand side-by-side with his father as they ganked the sucker, turn, and shake his father’s hand before walking away from the life.

He’d stand hat in hand on Sam’s doorstep when they returned from their honeymoon, praying that his baby brother still had room for his older, less intelligent but far more handsome brother in his new married life. Sam would laugh and pull him into a hug, ensuring him that of course he would always need his big brother. After all, he and Jessie apparently hadn’t come home from their month-long vacation on their own, and this kid was gonna need a really cool uncle to bitch at when his/her parents were giving them a hard time. Any nephew of his was gonna be educated in the ways of the Impala, rock music, and the Dean Winchester Scale of Burger Perfection. Any niece of his would also be educated in these things, but he would need to be there more for Sam when the boys came snooping around, because what was more intimidating than two guys over 6-feet tall who had marksmen’s abilities?

Dean would maybe become a cop, or a mechanic, or maybe even a firefighter, but one thing he would do for sure is protect his family. He’d gank any evil bastard that came within a thousand miles of that two story, white picket fenced house on Normal Boulevard.

Maybe he’d settle down, maybe not. All that was important to him was that his Sammy was happy.

That was all that would ever matter to him.

So, when it came down to it, Dean would have traded everything he had for it to have not happened like this. Never like this.

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

Sam had imagined this day since that first night alone at Stanford.

At first, he’d dreamed that Dean would show up, kick his roommate out, and curl up in the twin bed approximately six feet away from him. Dean would go to the registrar and apply to the school and get in, obviously, because his big brother was a genius. He’d probably take engineering, because Dean could do things with machinery that Sam could never have dreamed about. They’d watch each other’s backs on and off campus, and when one of the dorm rooms ended up being haunted, they’d take care of it, as though they had never been off the job. Dean would go on to open his own body shop, while working side projects like helping to rebuild homes for people who lost them in fires or natural (and supernatural) disasters. Sam would become a kick ass lawyer and help the law protect people. He’d help Dean on the weekends at the shop or with the houses, because they were brothers and why wouldn’t he? They’d still go out and watch the stars when they could, and they’d make sure to go to the first game of every season for the Jayhawks. They’d make a weekend of it. Just Sam, Dean, and the Impala. Of course, Jess would be fine with it. She’d love Dean as much as he did, because what wasn’t there to love? Eventually, he and Jess would get married and Dean would be his Best Man (even though Brady would throw a fit about it, but Dean was right, he was better off without douchebags like Brady in his life), then go on to be the best uncle to the kids they would have. Dean would meet a nice girl and they’d settle down too, and soon it would be Winchester Weekends, filled with barbeques and Little League games and dance recitals and tinkering with the Impala while drinking a cold one together and hiding from their wives and kids.

A few months in, the dream changed. One of the kids in Sam’s classes had a brother in the military, who surprised her by showing up during lecture wearing his fatigues and announcing that he had been honorably discharged and was staying home for good. She’d broken down into tears and hugged him until the professor had just wiped his eyes and dismissed the class, claiming that he didn’t want to bring the room down by talking about the Battle of Yorktown in 1781.

Sam started imagining that something similar would happen to him. Dean and Dad would kill the thing that had killed Mom, then Dean would stroll right into his Economics class wearing his torn jeans, steel toed boots, band shirt and leather jacket (the uniform of one of the longest living hunters out there, and the youngest to boot), acting as though he owned the joint. Sam would launch himself into his brother’s arms, not even minding that that cute girl Jessica sat only a few rows behind him, and bury his face in his brother’s shoulder to hide his tears. Dean would clasp him around the back of his neck and whisper that he and Dad had gotten the damned thing, and that he was quitting the life. Dad would keep hunting with Uncle Bobby, Pastor Jim, and Caleb as back up when needed, but he was out.

Dean would help him hook up with Jessica, because he had seen the way they looked at each other, and Dean couldn’t stand the lovesick puppy dog eyes anymore, then the rest of the daydream would stay the same. Engineering, lawyering, cars, court cases, house building, Jayhawks, star gazing, the Impala, wives, kids, all culminating in the two of them sitting side by side at some Old Folks Home, the lines between what they knew and what the world knew blurred by old age and one too many hard knocks to the head courtesy of any one of monsters of the week that they used to hunt. They’d sit on the front porch, drinking whatever alcohol they could get their hands on, loudly debating the proper way to kill a wendigo (Sam would say iron because he knows his big brother’s mind is fading and he needs him to stick around a while longer because Jess was already gone and he wasn’t quite ready to go and he doesn’t want to be left alone, not again).

No matter which scenario he dreamt up (defending Dean in court, forcing him into retirement when a werewolf gets the better of him and his left leg is basically useless so Sam brings him home with him, or even something as simple as Sam just picking up the phone and asking him to visit (because it’s DEAN, and there’s nothing he won’t do for his little brother, and Sam knows it), there was one common thread that remained the same, and that was that the time they had spent apart held no consequences. They would just fall back into being brothers, knowing that if they were back to back or side by side they would be fine.

That’s why, when Dean bursts through the bedroom door and drags him out of the burning brownstone, Sam couldn’t bring himself to fight at full strength. Dean was there. As much as Sam wished it had been any other scenario he had dreamt up (and not the nightmare that had been plaguing him for weeks), he knew that his big brother was there. And since when had there been any problem that Dean couldn’t solve? He could’ve been an engineer, after all.

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

[this-lioness]

Just Another Update

Nothing much to see here, really

Full disclosure, I did not make either falafel, tortillas or donuts last weekend.  Instead we ended up running a bunch of errands in the morning, and by the time I would have had to start getting everything together I was like, “lol no,” and we made four cheese pasta bowls again. NO REGERTS.

This weekend we’re going to get takeout from our favorite Mediterranean place, so I guess I’m absolved from having to do much of anything this weekend either!

Actually, that’s not quite true. On Saturday we’re going to make a run to Produce Junction (not sure if this is just a local thing, but it’s basically a big produce market where you go in and yell the names of fruits and vegetables at the staff and they throw giant bags of fucking dirt-cheap produce at you, you throw cash back at them, and then run out wondering how the fuck you just bought 10 lbs for potatoes for $4.

I’ve got a whole little list going, so the plan is to get everything we can, then come home and clean / chop / cook / vacuum seal and freeze.  I don’t know what their inventory is really going to be like, but we’ll see what we can get.

One of Marc’s projects for the weekend is to install a screen door in the cat room / exercise room.

Long story short, last weekend we did a full tidy of the exercise room and Marc spackled the corner of the room where the TV needed to be mounted.  We got our hands on a bunch of puzzle-piece foam floor mats and laid them all out nearly corner to corner, then put into place the treadmill, our weights, and the fucking Fluidity barre.  We also had a spare Roku that we moved into there so that we can do guided workouts and watch TV and movies and stuff.

Rosie’s response to this was to immediately start racing around the mats at full speed, so a good percentage of them now have claw marks and gouges. *sigh*

The way this room is laid out, when you walk in from the upstairs hall there is a short, narrow passage into the room, with a wide closet immediately to your right.  We took the doors down from this closet awhile ago, and floored over the tracks, and since then have been using it as the “litter box nook”.  There are shelves above the litter boxes so there’s room enough for us to scoop them, but we can store cat supplies (travel crates and fostering stuff) out of the way.  I need to get my hands on a tension rod so we can hang a curtain to hide that part from sight.

But anyway, point being, you’re sort of “funneled” into the room past the litter box nook, after which the rest of the room opens up.  The cats need access to the litter boxes, obviously, but we’re going to install a screen door just past them, right before the room opens up, so that we can keep them from infiltrating the workout area and fucking up the mats (and tracking litter everywhere).

So that’s Marc’s project.  My overall goal for the weekend is to better organize the mass of shit that I took home from work back in March, which is currently occupying our dining room.  I’ve got another +/- 15 boxes of window envelopes headed to me shortly, so I’m going to need to figure out where the fuck to put them until it’s safe to take them back to the office.

I think I mentioned that I finally set up the sewing machine and made an (admittedly hideous, but still functional) mask.  I ordered supplies for making more on Friday but we STILL haven’t gotten the email telling us they’re ready for pickup. :/

I took my Mom out grocery shopping on Monday.  One of the local stores has “senior hour” from 6 AM to 7 AM so that older folks and the immunocompromised can shop in relative safety.  She hasn’t been out of the house in something like 6 weeks, so I figured it would be OK to suit up and take her out.  I think she was happy that she got to leave the house, and also that -- thanks to the mask -- she didn’t have to put her fake teeth in.  Gotta find joy where you can, I guess.

It was... stressful, but OK.  It seemed safe enough, there were only a handful of people in the store to worry about, but of course any shopping trip with my Mom is always some percentage of nightmare.  She can spend 15 minutes poring over which trash bag to buy (what kind, what brand, what quantity) instead of jst saying, “I need trash bags -- BOOM -- alright, onto the next item.”

We filled up -- I shit you not -- one full-sized and one half-sized shopping cart.  And this is after we’ve been going shopping for her, like, every week and a half.

I do think it was good for her to see for herself that I’m not making it up when I say that pickings are slim.  I understand that she’s limited in what she can eat, because of the whole toothlessness thing, but also she spends way, WAY too much time poring over what Jim will and won’t eat, when Jim has no reason at all to be as fucking picky as he is.

Like, if the package is the wrong color he won’t fucking eat it.  Oh, it’s the right brand but he likes it thick cut, not thin cut.  He likes this brand not that brand.

How about you’re 86 fucking years old and you’ve got people waiting on you hand and foot in the midst of a national pandemic crisis, MAYBE YOU CAN AFFORD TO COMPROMISE A LITTLE INSTEAD OF DEMANDING SOMEONE BRINGS YOU CHICKEN A LA KING. 

But that’s Jim.  He’s always been that way and he always will.  Hopefully it doesn’t get any of us killed.

Marc and I both took half a vacation day today in order to see if we can get to Lowes for what we need for the door project.  I have been trying desperately to get my hands on a chest freezer for my Mom, but no such luck -- seems like everyone else has the same idea.  Spoke to an appliance company yesterday that said there’s a nationwide backorder, and they’re not expecting any until July or August at the earliest.

We’ll do what we need to do, but hopefully we’ll be able to get one for her before this thing comes back in the fall.  At that point we can get her stuff in bulk, portion it out and freeze it, which will mean fewer trips to the grocery store for everyone.

Just trucking along though, as we do.

How are you?

[spooderson]

Will you still need me?

This is my attempt at an angsty fic? Basically, Peter is having a lot of anxiety about his future as son to Tony and Pepper, because they’re having a baby of their own. And that must mean that he won’t be needed anymore once the baby is born.

(this is a part of a series that I’m writting.)

read on ao3

It had been a month from dad’s birthday. A month of knowing that Pepper was pregnant. A month of knowing that Tony and Pepper were going to have a child that is 100% theirs. A month of knowing that he was getting replaced. A month of dreading the day when they sit him down and tell him to pack his bags because they don’t want him anymore.

During the month Peter’s summer break had started, he had hung out with Ned and MJ a few times and patrolled almost every day from breakfast to dinner or, most of the time, until bedtime. Tony and Pepper hadn’t really said anything about him being out all the time, just sharing a few worried looks when he would tell them that he’s heading out for the day.

However, June was coming to an end and with it Peter’s days spent avoiding his parents. When he came back from patrol on the last Friday of June, his father was sitting on his bed.” This is it,” thought Peter “this is the moment he says that they don’t want me anymore and tell me to go.”

“Peter. We need to talk” started Tony when Peter jumped down from the ceiling and removed his mask, exposing his unruly hair that was falling in every which direction.

“Oh, okay-y. Can I just go change into pajamas first, please?” said Peter, while trying to hide the wavering in his voice.

“Sure, kid. I can wait a little longer”

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say, as Peter visibly flinched when he heard the words leave Tony’s mouth and then scrambled to get his pajamas from the closet and all but ran to the bathroom, shutting the doors after him. Tony looked at the closed door with worry in his eyes, but then just sighed thinking that after their little chat that they were about to have, everything would go to normal.

After a good ten minutes Peter emerged from the bathroom, with his hair now falling in damp curls from the shower and clad in his hello kitty pajamas.

“Get in here, kiddo” said Tony patting the space in the bed next to him.

Peter quietly gave a shaky nod and climbed into the bed and under the covers, trying to avoid touching Tony and thinking about how different his life will be after this talk. He was about to become homeless – maybe Ned would let him stay with him for a few weeks while he tried to get a job and rent a place to live. And what about food, would a minimum wage job be enough to satisfy his crazy metabolism and pay for rent and bills and other necessities?

Peter was ripped out of his spiraling thoughts by Tony:

“So, me and Pepper were thinking about things. And we decided that we should go on vacation for one last time as a family of three.”

“Wha-at?” asked Peter, who was very confused about all of this, were they planning to take him on one last vacation before sending him away? Maybe they were doing this, going on vacation with him, so they would feel less guilty by sending him away.

“You heard me. Me, you and Pep are going on vacation. To Italy. We’re going to Rome and Venice and a few places in between. Of course, we can go somewhere else if you don’t want to go to Venice or Rome or whatever. You choose.”

“That sounds fine. But, why?”

“We think that after the schoolyear you had and all the shit we’ve been dealing with here at SI we deserve a break. Plus, after the baby is born, the vacations won’t be as laid back. So, really, it’s our only chance to go on a proper relaxing vacation for at least the next five to ten years.” Explained Tony as if it were obvious.

“Oh. Is this all you wanted to talk about?”

“No, me and Pep noticed that you’re acting strange. You’ve been avoiding us for the past month. Dum-e is getting really sad without you in the lab. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m alright. Just want to get the most out of the summer break, spend more time patrolling.” Answered Peter, not wanting to tell him that he’s been avoiding them in fear of Tony deciding to kick him out right then and there. Maybe with this vacation he could convince them that he can be good and not a bother, and then they would decide to keep him at least until he graduated high school and then he could move away to college and never bother them again. And if not…Well, either way, it was worth a shot.

“If you say so, kiddo. We’re going on Monday, so you better spend the weekend hanging out with your friends – what were their names? Fred and PJ? – and packing up your suitcases. And don’t look at me like that, we’re going to be gone for more than half of July, you can’t just take one little suitcase for that long.”

“Okay. Can I go to sleep now? I’m really tired.”

“Sure, just don’t forget, tomorrow is pancake Saturday. Me and you are going to make breakfast. Goodnight, Petey, don’t let the bedbugs bite you” smiled Tony, then left the room, turning the lights off and closing the doors.

He walked back to his and Pepper’s bedroom, where she was sitting in bed, waiting to hear how the talk went.

“So, did you tell you why he’s like that?”

“No. he said that he’s fine. That he’s gone all the time because he “wants to get the most out of the summer break”. Apparently, that means completely ignoring us.” Tony sounded rather frustrated.

“Maybe he’s confused. I read that adopted kids sometimes feel like they’re being replaced if their adoptive parents get a child that is biologically theirs.”

“Hmmm. Maybe. But it’s Peter, he knows how much we love him. Hell, we made him the heir to SI, could he really think that just because we’re going to have another little child running around, we don’t want him? And that we’ll just turn our backs on him?” continued Tony, while getting comfortable in the bed. Once he stopped moving around, Pepper cuddled close to him.

“I hope whatever this is, that we’ll fix it during the vacation. Maybe he just needs to see that we love spending time with him, and then he’ll stop worrying?”

“Maybe”

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

“Peter honey, we’re going to be late. It’s time to go!” urged Pepper from the elevator.

Peter had moved all of his suitcases (there were only 2) to the hallway, and then when he was about to enter the elevator his eyes had gone really wide and he had run back to his room, throwing the doors closed.

“Do you think I should check on him?” asked Tony, even though he had already started walking towards Peter’s room, not waiting for an answer. “Pete? You okay in there?”

“Wha-?! Yeah! I just remembered that I forgot my phone charger and now I can’t find it anywhere…”

“Pete, let’s just go, we don’t want to keep everyone waiting. We can buy you a new one once we land in Rome. And during the plane flight I’m sure that either I or Pepper will lend you one of ours.”

“Oh-kay. I’m ready then.”

With that over with, they got into the elevator with Pepper and all their luggage and went down to the garage where Happy was waiting for them with a car, ready to take them to the airport. Peter stayed quiet throughout the whole car ride, opting to stare out the window and ignore whatever the adults were talking about.

„Pete? We’re here” said Tony with worry in his eyes, Peter hadn’t said a word through all of the car ride and even Happy was throwing worried looks at the kid every now and then.

After Peter finally realized that they were at the airport he scrambled out of the car and went to the jet, that was waiting for them to board. Once inside, Pepper ushered him to her side.

“Whatcha thinking about?” asked Pepper while trying to get comfortable and getting Peter to put his head on her shoulder. She knew that that and playing with his hair were his two main weaknesses if you wanted to get something out of him or stop his anxiety.

“Nothing. Just kind of tired, I guess.” lied Peter

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I think I’ll just sleep for a bit.”

“Okay” sighed Pepper and shot Tony a worried look.

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

They had just arrived in Rome form the airport and Pepper had made them unpack everything. That’s how Tony and Pepper found out that Peter had taken the Spider-man suit with him. And they were not pleased.

“Peter, we can’t have Spider-man show up wherever me, you and Pepper are. Someone may figure it out then. Do you WANT the world to know that you’re Spider-man? Are you ready for that?” Tony wasn’t holding back from voicing his frustrations. He had snatched the suit from Peter the moment the suitcase was opened, and he saw it in it.

“Peter, you understand that you cannot be Spider-man in Europe, right? It’s too risky for Spider-man to show up wherever we are. You said you want to be the friendly neighborhood Spider-man, and well, Europe isn’t your neighborhood.” tried to explain Pepper.

“I just thought, what if something major happens? And the avengers are needed?”

“You’re not an avenger” and “You’re too important to me, you wouldn’t be anywhere near the fighting if that happened” rang out through the hotel suite at the exact same moment.

“But- “

“Nope, no buts. Friendly neighborhood Spider-man stays in his neighborhood. We’re not superheroing in Europe.”

With that the discussion was over and Tony stormed of to the master bedroom, no doubt to go and hide the suit somewhere where Peter wouldn’t be able to get it.

“You know we only want the best for you. And this is a vacation. We’re supposed to be relaxing. So go take a shower and meet us in the living room, I’m craving pizza”

“Okay, Pepper”

Pepper just shook her head while watching him walk to the bathroom and went to get ready herself. He hadn’t called her Pepper in quite a while, and now it was back. Something was oh so wrong.

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

They were staying in a fancy hotel in the middle of the city, so it wasn’t a long walk to the pizza place, that Tony had said “has the best pizza in town, ask any local and they will say the same”.

Once seated at one of the tables outside Tony and Pepper shared a look and turned to Peter:

“So, how do you like Italy?”

“Oh, it’s amazing! Did you know that aunt May was italian? She said her family was from Ancona? I think? Yeah… Anyway, Rome is beautiful, the fountain in front of the hotel? The one that all those people were taking photos in front of? Also, I read that there’s this hill from which you can see the city skyline? And all the famous places? Can I go there one evening? That way you both get some alone time and I get to take pretty pictures of the city to show Ned and MJ?”

“Petey, we’d love to go there with you. Maybe tomorrow if you won’t be too tired. “ gently said Pepper.

„Why would I be tired?“

„The jet lag, kid “

“Oh”

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

It was the evening of the next day and they all had just woken up a few hours earlier. The jet lag had gotten them all and now they were hungry, tired and not at all tuned into the italian time.

They went to get some dinner and then Tony suggested going to the hilltop that Peter had mentioned yesterday. Peter had argued that they really don’t have to go somewhere just because he thinks it might be pretty and that he’s okay to get a taxi or use public transport to get there, but he was quickly shut down by both his parents who were quick to reassure him that they also want to go there to see the view.

In the end Tony had driven them to the hilltop – they had gotten lost on the way there, because apparently google maps weren’t as reliable as they thought and now Tony was seriously considering creating his own navigation system. Peter and Pepper had slept in the backseat through the whole drive.

After parking, Tony had gently shaken awake Pepper and Peter and Peter had run off to set up a blanket for them to sit on while Pepper and Tony slowly walked after him.

“Do you think we should gang up on him and get whatever’s bothering him out now?”

“I think that the sooner we know, the better. I can’t stand to see him like this – anxiousness suits nobody.”

“Okay then, after the sunset.”

“After the sunset.”

With this they had finished their walk to where Peter had set up the blanket. Tony had straight up plopped down while Pepper sat down more carefully.

“Everything alright?” asked Peter.

“Yes, darling. Just a little tired. Being pregnant isn’t as beautiful and comfortable as people make it out to be.”

“Oh. Anything I can do to help?”

“Everything’s fine. Just sit and enjoy the view. And maybe some sandwiches, you must be hungry.”

After that exchange they all sat quietly for some time, just soaking up the last rays of sunshine and enjoying the view and each other’s company. Peter had been right, and they could in fact see most of the Rome’s famous places like the Spanish steps and some churches. It was breathtaking. Once the sunset was 10 minutes away Peter took out his camera that he had built with Tony after the man had learned that Peter was into photography and was using some ancient camera that he had gotten from Goodwill for 10$.

Peter took a ton of photos of the sunset and the view from the hill. Then, he turned the camera to Tony and Pepper, who were both sitting hand in hand on the blanket, Peppers head on Tony’s shoulder. They were both bathed in the warm light from the sunset. They looked almost ethereal – like two goods from some ancient civilization, who sometimes came to earth to soak up it’s beauty and just be together, without any worries pressing down on them. Peter desperately wished that he could stay with them forever in this worry free dreamlike place, but the memory that they were here together, so happy and relaxed, would have to suffice.

Looking at the picture he had just taken one more time, Peter slowly walked back to Tony and Pepper. After sitting down, Tony hugged Peter to himself and only let go when he was sure that Peter would stay pressed into his left side.

“So, kiddo, we noticed that you’re acting strange. And we wanted to know why. You know you can tell us anything, right? We really want you to talk to us. So please, talk to us? Let us help you.” started Tony.

“I can’t talk to you about this. So just- just stop asking”

“Why can’t you tell us? We’ll love you whatever it is. There’s nothing in the universe that could make us hate you or forget you.”

“Don’t lie to me, there is. Will be”

“Is this? Is this about the baby?”

“NO! I mean, yeah. But no. Just – just… When the baby is born, you won’t need me anymore. And I’ll have to leave. And I – “

“Peter, you’re worrying yourself for no reason” interrupted Pepper “we’re not going to replace you with the baby. And you won’t be forgotten either… We would never throw you out…”

“Petey, listen to what Pep said, we love you so so much. We’d never want to get rid of you or to replace you. You’re our son. We will love you whatever happens. Nothing is going to change that. Us having another kid means that you get to be an amazing big brother, not that we don’t want you anymore. Got it?” continued Tony.

“Ye-yeah” stammered out Peter, who was full out crying at this point. There were tears and snot running down his face. How could he believe that Pepper and Tony would throw him out? He knew that they were one of the kindest people he ever met, and that they loved him. And yet he still believed that they could do something as cruel as throwing him out… He was an awful son, wasn’t he?

“Really? Because I will repeat myself until you start believing it. I mean it. And you’re not a bad person or a bad son because you thought that we would throw you out. It’s just anxiety, saying all these things to you. And it’s okay. Happens to me too.” Tony carried on.

“Wha- what do you mean it happens to you too?”

“I mean that I also get all those thoughts, that I’m not good enough, that no one loves me and so on. But they pass. And I get help. And we can get help for you too, if you want.”

“What help?” asked Peter. “I don’t think regular anxiety medication would help me. Also, I think it could be a hindrance to being spider-man.”

“I was thinking just seeing a therapist once or twice a week for starters. And then we’ll see.”

“Oh.” And then “Wait! You said I get to be a big brother?!”

“Of course. Who else would you be to the baby? You’re our son, Peter.” smiled Pepper.” Our firstborn, even if you aren’t biologically ours. And the fact that you aren’t biologically ours doesn’t mean a thing. You’re as much our son as the baby is going to be our kid.”

“Okay. Thanks, mom. Thanks, dad. I love you.”

“We love you too.” murmured Tony into the boy's curls and pulled him even closer to himself.

[tysonbarrieisamapleleaf]

Keep It Secret

Reader x Noah Hanifin

Smut: yes | no

Requested: yes | no

******

You twirled a strand of hair around on your finger, completely zoned out of your surroundings, lost in thought as you hummed. You could see lips moving out of the corner of your eye, and you could hear something, but were you paying attention? Not really. You could manage to get by with an occasional nod or hum as your best friend, Cassidy vented to you. You were too distracted, too focused on him.

Sure, you and Noah had been acquainted for a couple of years now, having gone to a handful of the same parties at the same beachfront cottages on the New England coast every summer, a staple activity for your circle of friends since high school. Noah had been brought into the group, a friend of a friend, who knew him from college. Your circle was of the, wealthier, variety. You weren’t the richest, by any means, but you were comfortable, and having all gone to private schools, save for a few members, you felt well-adjusted among your peers.

Noah had been, different. He’d gone to private schools as well, a few of the boys in your group knew him from even back then, but he’d left to pursue hockey, and most had lost contact. He was down-to-earth, smart, and sarcastic, his humor was much drier than that of the others in your group, a trait that originally, only you could brag about. He wasn’t around as often now as he had been when you were in your late teens, having been drafted to the NHL at 18. He’d still come back for summers, and as the spring months began coming to an end, you knew it wouldn’t be much longer until he’d be home again, joining you all at that lake house, one more time.

“Y/N!” you heard, practically jumping out of your skin as Cassidy brought you back to earth.

“What?”

“You weren’t listening again!” she whined, “I said, can you bring the booze for the cottage this weekend?”

“Me? Isn’t Noah in charge of that?”

“Normally,” she shrugged, “I guess coming from Calgary is a lot harder than coming up from Charlotte.”

“Ugh, fine, but tell him he owes me.”

Cassidy grinned mischievously at you, her mind instantly wandering to something much filthier than you’d intended. As much as you tried to hide it, you knew your efforts were in vain. Everyone knew you had been completely besotted by him for the last few years. Hell, the only one who didn’t know was probably Noah himself. How could he know though? He was hardly ever here anymore.

Pushing your feelings for him aside was easy when he wasn’t here. You’d get yourself focused on university, have meaningless relationships with other guys until late spring, and fill your days with nonsense and school work to distract yourself from the fact that you were completely, totally and unreservedly in love with him. When you knew he’d be coming home, a date and time for his flight, you’d found it much harder to distract yourself - the excitement of seeing him again bubbling in your stomach, making you feel some strange combination of sick and giddy - like you could throw up at any moment but you were just too happy to care. You’d never felt this way before, about anyone or anything. You didn’t dare disclose this information with anyone other than Cassidy though. She was a big mouth, sure, but even she wouldn’t tell.

A couple of days later, you found yourself crammed into the backseat of Cassidy’s SUV, luggage and cases of beer packed tightly around you. Her life motto was definitely somewhere on the lines of “go big or go home” and that encompassed everything she did, including packing for your annual summer vacation. You climbed into the backseat, mostly so you could steal a nap on the way there. Cassidy had agreed to pick up another one of your friends, though you hadn’t caught the name of who it was she was getting. Not that it mattered to you, you’d be passed out in the back within minutes of hitting the road.

You shut your eyes for, what you thought was a moment, resting your head on your duffel bag, sitting atop one of Cassidy’s suitcases and a case of beer. You could hear voices from the front seat, presumably Cassidy talking to whoever she was picking up.

“Wow, Y/N, I come home after being away for how many months, and you’re not even awake to see me!” you heard a familiar voice teasing you.

You bolted upright when you heard your name, rubbing your face before turning towards the front passenger’s seat, your sleepy eyes looking directly at Noah.

“Noah! I...uh...welcome home?” you said awkwardly, mentally face-palming yourself for being at a loss for words.

You were normally quick to snap back, even when it was Noah you were talking to, but this time, your train of thought was completely derailed, and you knew it couldn’t all be from sleeping.

His thick, light brown hair peaked out from under his backwards ball cap, curling out just over his ears. His blue eyes glanced at you, looking you over as his lips turned up into a smile.

“Miss me?” he grinned.

“Didn’t we all,” Cassidy laughed softly from behind the wheel as Noah buckled himself into his seat, trying to redirect the conversation in order to help you avoid sheer embarrassment.

“You guys can always come to Calgary, you know,” he laughed, “it wouldn’t kill you guys to come see me.”

After another hour or two of Noah trying to ask you questions and Cassidy redirecting the conversation or you giving awkward, unfocused answers, the SUV pulled up a long driveway, surrounded by trees. Cassidy’s vehicle came to a stop outfront of the smaller cottage, a tall building with two balconies, a large set of stairs of to the side that led to a pathway, the other cottage you’d booked nestled in amongst trees just a few hundred yards in the distance.

“Here’s where you two are staying,” she grinned, “the other cottage is too small, couldn’t fit everyone in there” she shrugged, “I mentioned it to Y/N already.”

Fuck, you thought to yourself. That must have been when you were zoned out a couple of days ago. You really needed to start paying attention more often when she started talking.

“lt’s cool,” Noah shrugged, “not like we’d have to share a bed or anything right? There’s two bedrooms.”

“Yeah, but it’ll be just the two of you, we’re just up there though,” she said, pointing to the second cottage.

You bailed out of the car, Noah having gone to the trunk to grab a few bags to take up. You approached Cassidy’s window, your voice in a heated whisper.

“Cassidy, what the fuck! You can’t put me in a cottage with Noah! You know how I feel about him!”

“Exactly,” she shrugged, “we all agreed this would be a good thing for you two. Besides, there’s two bedrooms. You don’t have to share.”

“No, I just have to be alone with him.”

“Not for long, or very often!”

You rolled your eyes before opening up the rear passenger door, grabbing your duffel bag and a case of beer. Noah had already headed inside with his bag and the rest of your things.

“Have fun!” Cassidy called before reversing down the driveway.

Inside, you found Noah unpacking his clothes and hanging them in the closet in one of the bedrooms. He smiled at you, God, you loved that smile, before turning back to finish putting his clothes away.

“What’s up?”

“Oh...I just...wanted you to know that this wasn’t my idea,” you nodded, “I didn’t realize what Cassidy meant.”

“Oh,” he frowned, his blue eyes looking up at you.

You could almost see a hint of sadness in them, and without realizing, you felt your eyebrows raise in surprise.

“You seem disappointed?” you asked.

“Nah,” he shook his head quickly, before smiling at you again, “need any help?”

“No thanks, I’ll uh, see you in a bit?”

“Sure! I’ll be here,” Noah nodded as he turned back to unpacking his suitcase.

You walked back down the hall to your room, sighing as you flopped down onto your bed. Why couldn’t you just make a move with him? Keeping this secret was proving to be harder with each passing summer, and this year might finally be the one where you bend till you break your silence.

A couple of hours later, Noah stood outside the door frame, his knuckles softly tapping against the wooden door.

“Hey, can I come in?” he smiled softly at you, a hand running through his thick, light brown hair.

“Of course,” you nodded quickly, sitting up from where you’d been comfortably situated before.

Noah sat beside you on the bed, his cheeks flushing to a soft pink colour as he shook his head, a quiet laugh escaping his lips.

“You know, there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.”

“Oh?” you nodded slowly, before deciding to throw yourself on the line here, “me too.”

“Really?” he raised an eyebrow, his blue eyes full of confusion and surprise as he looked at you.

“Yeah…uh, you go first,” you nodded.

“Well, ok,” he frowned, chewing on his lower lip before speaking, he turned his gaze to the wall - you could tell he was nervous, like he didn’t want to say what he was about to, or that he was scared of a reaction.

You could feel yourself getting anxious about what he was going to say, a sweat breaking out on your skin. Thankfully it was warm enough out that you could blame it on the hot July weather.

“Y/N, I’ve been thinking,” he nodded slowly, “and you’re one of the greatest friends I’ve ever made, I really like spending time with everyone here obviously, but especially you, that’s why I keep coming to these things,” he shrugged, “normally my teammates have golf tournaments and shit, but, well, you’re not there.”

“Oh...I’m glad I make it worthwhile for you,” you shrugged your shoulders slightly, hung up on his use of the word friend. You were determined not to let your disappointment show through if he friendzoned you with his next sentence. You’d be happy for him, you’d support him, and then you’d cry in private once he left the cottage to see the guys.

Noah shook his head quickly, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips.

“Shit, I’m bad at this, aren’t I? What I’m trying to say to you, Y/N, is, I really like you.”

“Yeah, I like you too, Noah,” you shrugged, “you came here to tell me that you’re happy we’re friends, I get it,” you nodded.

“No, Y/N.”

He frowned before placing his palms flat on the bed. He leaned forward, gently pressing his lips to yours in a move that caught you completely by surprise. His kiss was soft and gentle - you’d thought about what this would feel like a lot over the course of the last three summers.

He gently pulled away, his teeth chewing on that lower lip once more as he sheepishly looked for something, at anything but you. You could tell he was nervous and avoiding your gaze, but instead of letting him think you were playing it cool, you rested your hand under his chin, a soft smile forming on your features.

“Do you realize how long I’ve waited for you to kiss me?” you laughed.

Noah turned to look at you, that million-dollar smile returning to his face again.

“Really?”

“Really really,” you laughed softly.

“Well, should I kiss you again?” he said, flashing you a cheeky grin.

“I wouldn’t say no,” you laughed.

He pressed his lips to yours again, this time his hand gently resting on your thigh as he kissed you. You blushed slightly as he pulled back, smiling as he rested his forehead against yours.

“You know, maybe we should keep this our little secret,” you laughed softly, “I don’t want Cassidy giving us the gears over it, she’s been telling me for years to kiss you.”

Noah raised an eyebrow at you before laughing softly, his eyes gazing at you in a way you’d never seen before, his tongue gently running along his lip.

“Deal, but only if I still get to kiss you in here.”

“Deal,” you grinned, leaning in to give him a passionate kiss.

[danrdarrenc]

For Here You Are, Standing There, Loving Me

The happier second wedding fic I promised on Twitter. Title from “Something Good” from The Sound of Music.

“That was an interesting picnic,” Sonny said, dropping onto the couch next to Will who was flipping through channels.

After Will was given a clean bill of health by Kayla, they had decided to get out of the Kiriakis mansion and move into their own place. Miraculously, their old apartment had just been vacated and was available for purchase. They jumped on the chance, both of their names on the deed; the apartment was a block away from Gabi and Rafe’s house and Ari could go between them easily.

“Knocked Ari out though. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.” Will grinned. “Had the picnic ever turned into a wedding before?”

“I don’t know,” Will answered absently, zoned out.

“Hey. You okay?” Sonny had been on edge in the couple of weeks since Will’s recovery, checking for any sign of a relapse. “Will?”

“Huh?” Will started, turning to face Sonny.

“Where’d you go?”

Will shut off the TV. “I was thinking we should get married. Or y’know, have some sort of vow renewal.”

Sonny’s mouth curled into a dopey smile. “Again? Already? Not that I’d say no. I’d marry and remarry you every day for the rest of our lives.”

Will smiled.

“Seriously though, what brought this on?” Sonny asked. “Rex and Sarah?”

Will nodded. “But also, I’ve been thinking about it since I left the hospital. Our wedding was happy but I was also dying. Everyone was crying and not in the good way. I couldn’t even say my vows. And I flatlined ten minutes later.”

“It was perfect,” Sonny assured, sliding his hand into Will’s.

Will snorted in amusement and twined their fingers together. “Come on. That wasn’t how you pictured our second wedding going. Me either.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me. I know I said all that stuff about just wanting to be married to you, but we’ve waited so long to be together again. We should do it right. We deserve that. You deserve that,” Will said, cupping Sonny’s face with his free hand. “Get rid of some of those nightmares,” Will added after a beat, his voice soft.

In the weeks since Will’s recovery, Sonny had been waking up most nights crying, curling into Will’s side or pulling Will closer to his chest, so he could feel Will alive and breathing next to him.

“Okay,” Sonny replied, choked up.

Will smiled softly and pulled Sonny into a one-armed hug, their hands still twined between them. Sonny buried his nose in Will’s neck, breathing him in, and Will kissed Sonny’s hair.

After a quiet minute or two, they pulled apart only so Sonny could shift to lean his side into Will’s, Will’s arm draped around Sonny’s back, so they could watch TV.

______________________________________________________________________

“Let’s have the wedding by the lake.”

Sonny was wrapped around Will, their legs intertwined under the covers and their fingers laced across Will’s stomach.

It was Sunday morning and they were alone in the apartment, Ari having stayed the weekend with Gabi.

Will let go of Sonny’s hand and turned in Sonny’s arms, so they ended up practically nose-to-nose. “Yeah?”

Sonny nodded. “It’s July. The weather’s beautiful. We can rent a tent for the reception, and do the ceremony underneath if it rains or it’s too hot.”

Will smiled slowly. “I did always used to think it was a beautiful place for a wedding.”

“Yeah?”

Will nodded.

Sonny grinned and kissed Will.

______________________________________________________________________

“Good news!” Will said, breezing into the apartment and kissing Sonny hello where he stood at the stove preparing dinner. “Mom’s going to delay going back to Italy until after the wedding. Dad’s going to come back. I told him he didn’t have to but he insisted. Said he wanted to come back for something happy. And he’s going to bring the twins and Syd with him!”

“That’s great!” Sonny pulled Will in for another kiss. “I have good news too. My brothers are coming!”

“All of them?!”

Sonny nodded.

“I’ll finally get to meet them in person, six years and two weddings later.”

Sonny’s laugh tinkled around the kitchen.

______________________________________________________________________

“I’m not sleeping apart tonight.”

For a week, Will had unsuccessfully been attempting to convince Sonny that he should stay at the mansion the night before the wedding.

“I’ve got you and I’m not staying away from you ever again unless it’s absolutely necessary,” Sonny said, grabbing Will by the waist and pulling him close so their chests were flush. Will’s arms went automatically around Sonny’s neck. “Besides, we’re already married. If the wedding gets derailed, I don’t care.”

Will really had nothing left in him to argue and took Sonny to bed to show his acquiescence.

_______________________________________________________________________

“Ready?” Sonny asked Will.

They were standing on the edge of the lake together, hand-in-hand, waiting for their family to get settled. Having already had a formal wedding, and already being married, they had opted to forego the formality of walking down an aisle, choosing instead to simply make their way together to the area in front of the lake that would serve as their altar.

Will smiled, nodded, kissed Sonny, and led them to where Marlena stood waiting. She smiled at them when they appeared in front of her, and called for the last stragglers to settle in their seats. Arianna waved at them both from the front row where she sat in between Gabi and Sami.

“Thank you all for coming,” Marlena started. “As you all know, Will and Sonny are already married but they’ve asked that we all be here to share in a vow exchange that is happier than their second wedding was.”

She paused, allowing the somber moment to settle and fly away on the gentle breeze that surrounded them.

Will squeezed Sonny’s hand. Sonny returned the squeeze and smiled.

“So,” Marlena continued. “Let’s get right to it. Will, would you like to begin?”

“Yeah. Sure.” Will cleared his throat. “Sonny, I meant what I said when I said that I must have done something right in my life to get this second chance with you. I know that I’ve hurt you, and I know that I got lost for a while, but I’m here now, and I remember every second of our lives together. And I don’t plan on wasting another minute of our future together. A lifetime of love with you could never be enough. I adore you, Sonny, and I love you so much. You are the love of my life. I am so blessed and proud to be your husband, in the past, right now, and for the rest of all the days of our lives.”

“Sonny.” Marlena gestured that it was his turn.

Sonny swallowed thickly, blinked away tears, and began. “Will, five years ago I said you were my anchor, keeping me grounded in a way I never was before I met you. That was true then, and it’s true now.  I am never more sure of myself and my place in the world than when I have you at my side.  You are the love of my life. We are going to have our happy ending, Will, and I cannot wait to stand with you on our journey to get there. I love you so much.”

Marlena grinned, tears falling down her face. “Well. You’re already married. So, I guess we’ll skip straight to the kissing.”

Everyone laughed, including Will and Sonny. Will pulled Sonny forward by their still-linked hands and smashed their lips together. 

* * * * * * * * * *

“Whatchya thinking about?” Sonny asked, sliding his arms around Will’s waist from behind and resting his chin on Will’s shoulder. 

They were standing on the edge of the lake, a little apart from where the tent for their party sat, enjoying a private moment together away from their families and friends. 

Will gripped Sonny’s hands where they rested across his stomach, pulling them tighter, and leaned back into Sonny’s chest, dropping the side of his head against Sonny’s. 

“I was thinking that this time last year I had no memory of you.”

Sonny didn’t respond, but dipped his face to kiss Will’s shoulder.

“Did I ever tell you what the first memory of you I had was?”

“Our wedding. The first one,” Sonny clarified with a chuckle.

Will shook his head. “It was the hug in the coffee shop after I came out to you. It was right after I took the serum. And then I remembered telling you I loved you for the first time. Those memories were why I took the second dose.”

“Hey,” Sonny pulled away and turned Will around to face him. Sonny cupped Will’s face. “That serum gave you your life back.”

“And almost took it away.”

“But it didn’t,” Sonny replied, his lips turning up into a smile. “You’re here. We’re here.”

“I know. I said I wanted this to be a happy day. No talk of death. I’m sorry.” Will circled his arms around Sonny’s waist, pressed his forehead to Sonny’s, and closed his eyes.

“It’s okay,” Sonny said quietly, his own eyes closed. He slid his hands from Will’s face to around his neck. 

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” 

(Later, when they were going through the wedding pictures, they would find that Eric, who had come to find them to join the party, had snapped a picture of that quiet moment.

It would be framed and placed pride-of-place on the curio cabinet underneath the TV that hung on wall.)

* * * * * * * * * * *

“Daddies? Was I at your first wedding?” 

Ari was sitting on Will’s lap at the little table set aside for Will and Sonny. Gabi hadn’t wanted her to interrupt their privacy, but they assured her they could never find their little princess to be an unwelcome interruption. 

“Of course you were, Little Lady,” Will answered. “You’ve seen the pictures.”

“You hung out with Grandmas Sami and Adrienne,” Sonny added. 

“I don’t remember.”

Will and Sonny chuckled. 

“No. You wouldn’t,” Sonny answered, playing with her hair. “You weren’t even one yet, Sweet Pea.”

“Will you come to my wedding when I get married?” Ari looked between them, wide-eyed, truly concerned.

“Of course we’ll be there,” Will responded, stroking her hair. “Got big plans for a wedding?” 

Ari shook her head. 

“Good,” Sonny said. “Maybe we’ll wait a few years for that.”

“Ari.” Sydney appeared in front of the table. “Do you want to play by the lake?”

Ari looked to Will for permission. “You can if you want.” She nodded and Will helped her slide to the ground. “Just don’t get your dress too dirty or your mom will never forgive me.”

“Thanks, Will!” Sydney said and grabbed Ari’s hand. 

Will and Sonny watched as they pranced away towards where Johnny and Allie were wading into the edge of the lake.

“I don’t think I’m ready for Ari to get married,” Sonny mused.

“Maybe just her Barbies.”

Sonny laughed and kissed Will.

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

A glass clinked from across the tent. 

“I think it’s time for a dance,” John said.

Will and Sonny grinned at each other. Will laced his fingers with Sonny’s and led him out into the middle of the tables to the area they had designated as a makeshift dance floor, as music began filtering from the speakers placed around the tent.

“I know it’s not a usual first dance song, but Will insisted,” John noted.

“The Sound of Music?” Sonny asked, pulling Will close by the waist. Will had wanted their song to be a surprise. 

“i told you. I must have done something good in my life to get this second chance at a life with you,” Will answered, his arms falling into their usual position around Sonny’s neck.

Sonny shook his head in amusement and kissed Will as they swayed to the music, not really dancing, but dancing nonetheless. 

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

After, they shared the traditional cake cutting and made their way back to their little table while dessert was passed around the tent. 

“This was a great idea,” Sonny said, planting himself in Will’s lap. 

Will’s arms snaked around Sonny’s waist to keep him in place. “Mmm hmm,” Will hummed, tipping his face up for a kiss. 

Sonny obliged willingly, his arms circling Will’s neck. 

(They would find that Eric had snapped a photo of this moment too. It would become the cover of the album to commemorate their second wedding.)

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

Will and Sonny were the first to leave the party, at their mothers’ and Marlena’s insistence. They were to spend the night in their apartment in Salem before heading to Cyprus for their two-week honeymoon in the morning.

“I love you, husband for life,” Sonny said, crawling into bed next to Will.

“I love you, too, husband for life.”

[timetravelingpigeon]

Excerpt: The Life and Life and Life of a Time Traveling Pigeon

In Which Columba Reaches the End of the World, and Thus Begins Their Journey

[[INDEX || NEXT]] [ 1 / 33 ]

[cw: car crash]

So.

It’s three in the morning. I’m still awake, as usual. And I’ve been told that I should write a book about the insane clusterfuck that is my life. I’m not going to be falling asleep any time soon, and I’m bored out of my mind, so I guess now’s as good a time as any to follow through on that advice.

First thing’s first: my name’s Columba. I’m a time traveler. Specifically, I’m stuck in a time loop. Yes, that’s right, an honest-to-god, Groundhog Day style time loop (it lasts a lot longer than a single day, but that’s beside the point.) How? Don’t know. Why? Likewise, don’t know. All I do know is the rules by which it operates, and that was all through trial and error.

For instance, the first rule is that something terrible happens on July 17th, 2012, at 3:32 PM, Pacific Standard Time. Like, really terrible. Apocalyptically terrible, even.

It’s a beautiful day, now that the morning clouds have burned off. “June gloom” we call it around here; overcast and chilly in the early morning as the marine air flows inland overnight, before the sun comes in and bathes us in that classic Southern California sunlight.

We’re coming down the 5 after having spent a long weekend up in Mammoth. Aug, my best friend, hailed from a snooty upper-middle-class family and had an aunt who owned property up there (a little cluster of timeshare vacation homes, in fact.) She’d been more than happy to let us hang around during the off season… as long as we promised to keep the place in good shape and not bother whatever actual guests she had at the time, of course. As if she’d needed to ask; I tended to keep to myself, and Aug was one of those folks who’d go to clean up his own mess and find, an hour later, that he’d cleaned the whole damn room. Blessing and a curse, honestly, thinking in straight lines like that. He can power through grading a thousand essays, but heaven help him if there’s anything else he needs to do.

The windows are down, and the cool mountain air rushes in. His hair’s a disaster, my hair’s a disaster, but it sure as hell beats wasting fuel running the air conditioner. It seems more real, too. Without that glass between me and the outside world, I can feel the empty distance stretching out all the way down to Pyramid Lake, nestled in the valley this highway skirted. Watching all those little boats and jetskis glide around the surface of the lake makes me thankful that I’m riding shotgun. How could I be expected to keep my eyes on the road when I had this sitting right next to me?

The two of us are getting antsy from driving for so long. It’s been over three hours since we finally managed to pack everything back into this little sedan of his, and we’re desperately in need of a stretch break. Next rest stop’s maybe fifteen miles ahead, going by the last sign we saw. We start debating whether we want to stop for an actual lunch or just grab some gas-station snacks and keep rolling. His vote is for the former, he says. In mock indignation, he explains that if he so much as sees another pack of corn-nuts again, he’ll drop me on the side of the road and let me find my own ride home.

I relent, emphasizing how burdensome his demands are, but, since we’re friends, I’ll shoulder them out of the kindness of my heart.

Our stern looks melt away as we break into a giggling fit. I comment on how neither of us can ever keep a straight face. He quips that it’s because neither of us are straight, period, and I just start laughing so hard, my sides begin to hurt. Was it that funny of a joke? Yeah, kinda. But, see, Aug has this laugh that is incredibly fucking infectious, so once he joined in, I was as good as doomed.

Perhaps knowing that I wasn’t going to stop until he did, he turns on the radio to distract us. It’s a hell and a half getting a signal up here, between the mountains and the trees, but, finally, one station comes through strong.

I… honestly don’t remember what the song was. I can guess, sure; "Karma Chameleon” by Culture Club fucks me up for no good reason, so I’m putting my money on that being what was playing when… 

Aug’s voice cuts off midway through one of the lines of the chorus. Sudden. Unnatural. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him go rigid for a split second, before slumping forward over the steering wheel. He’s not breathing.

I scream his name (I tried to shake him awake, too, I think.) He doesn’t move. Or, rather, he does move; he begins to fall towards me, dragging the steering wheel with him.

Turning right.

Sharply.

Towards the lake.

Off the road.

Over the edge of the road. And down the side of… 

… 

You know, I don’t even remember the impact. The impact with the ground, I mean. We hit the guardrail full-force, the airbags exploded, and gravity picked a new and exciting direction to start pulling me in, but… yeah, no, I don’t actually remember us hitting the ground. Doesn’t really matter, in the end. Or at all, honestly.

Because, see, the second rule is…

Three dozen heads instantly turn towards me, aka, the weird kid who’d just screamed. Loudly. In a calculus class. During the final. For no goddamn reason.

It’s August 8th, 2008, 9:28 AM, Pacific Standard Time, and I’m sitting in the back of Room 404 at the local community college.

As soon as the world around me finally registers, my hands fly up to cover my mouth (and also to help hide the fact that I’m blushing bright red from shame.) In the process, I drop my calculator onto the floor, just adding to the noise. Great.

And then the people around me register. A few scattered individuals are still looking around wildly, presumably to find whatever bug must have startled me (this particular building has a reputation for being a roach magnet.) The rest, though… 

Oh. I know those looks. Mentally, I sigh. Damn it. Well, with any luck, I’ll never see any of these assholes again after today. And if this kicks up my reputation again? Fuck it, I’m going to be waving goodbye to this place by the end of next… year?

Wait. No, that’s not right. I’ve graduated. I know I have. I remember, because that weekend, Aug and I celebrated by… 

… 

What the fuck just happened?