#but every year the first week of July is just constant fireworks

[unorthodox-soundwave]

I just had a full breakdown because of the sound of all fireworks going off right now

Happy 4th :)

[crash-cinematic-universe]

A Speedster, A Nuclear Bomb, and a Worn Down Walkman (Ch.1)

pairing: peter maximoff/fem!Wilson!reader

summary:  Y/n Wilson is the only child of the renowned X-Man Deadpool. When Y/n is asked to enroll in Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters by Charles Xavier himself, she has no choice but to accept; much to the dismay of her father. Y/n isn’t used to the knew surroundings or the constant stress of her mutation. All she wanted to do was disappear. Little did Y/n know, she caught the eyes of a certain speedster who wasn’t planning on letting her fade away anytime soon.

req:  Hey, I was wondering if you could write something about dating peter maximoff and being deadpools kid - @8-eight-8

warnings: none, rlly

notes: FUCK YEAH!!! IM BACK TO WRITING THIS SERIES BABEY. sorry this took so long, i swear it wont take this long next time. also 2.5k words to make up for it hell yeah!

PREVIOUS: prologue 

taglist: @creator-appreciator, @wallows-spring

            Saying that life at the academy was hectic would be a severe understatement; your first few days were filled to the brim with endless placement assessments and class work and first impressions. It was as if you were meeting every person at once, each new smiling face and unique name immediately leaving your brain after mere seconds of talking. It was overwhelming and chaotic and at one point you felt as if you had begun to spiral in the first week-- worst of all, you were beginning to miss your father. However, there was one person who stuck in your mind like a fly to a gluetrap-- Peter Maximoff. 

            Peter was made of pure adrenaline, constantly on the move at high speeds as if he would cease to exist if he were to stand still. Nevertheless, he somehow managed to land himself right next to you anywhere you went. You’re not exactly complaining, though, you quite like having Peter around. He’s like your anchor, a person you can lean on when everyone and everything becomes too much-- not to mention Peter’s physical appearance. His features were refined and smooth, as if he was carved from marble by Michelangelo himself. He always had a grin on his face, his eyes lighting up like Fourth of July fireworks that you just can’t look away from. 

            Similarly, Peter was still having trouble processing… you. You were like an ethereal being, an inhuman gracefulness and beauty following you everywhere you went. You brightened up rooms, your laugh could make the saddest person feel uplifted, your eyes were abyss-like pools that made Peter feel fuzzy whenever they locked with him. Peter couldn’t stay away from you if he tried-- you were magnetic, an invisible force pulling him closer and closer until he got close enough to smell the shampoo you use. Everything about you was amazing and perfect and pristine to him-- he would be lying if he claimed he didn’t have a crush on you. Unfortunately for Peter, you were completely and totally out of  his league. In fact, you were so out of his league that the mere thought of you liking him seemed about as realistic as a fever dream. For now, Peter was content with being your friend.

            Meanwhile, Charles was attempting to settle on one of the hardest dilemmas of his lifetime. Originally, Charles had invited you to the academy to attempt to control your mutation. Hank had run various tests to get an idea of exactly how strong you’d become, and the results were shocking. Long story short, both Charles and Hank had come to the conclusion that you were a ticking time bomb. With every day that passes your manipulation of energy expands, reigning in more and more force by the second. The process is gradual and slow, but with time, you would lose your ability to contain the energy. Keeping you in the academy would be your only chance at stopping your inevitable destination, but that would also put the rest of the students at risk. Then again, you were useful; having you on the X-Men team would help save so many people. For the first time in what felt like years, Charles didn’t know what to do. 

            “Hank,” The British man called. “If you were the equivalent to a timed explosive, would you… would you want to know?”

            “I’m sorry?” Hank’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

            “I just… I’m not sure if I should tell Y/n about her… situation.” Hank nods in understanding before inhaling deeply.

            “Charles, she’s only been here a few days. She’s barely settled in-- give her time to… warm up to the place.” Hank replies. That doesn’t help Charles’s situation.

            “And after that? After she’s settled in?” Hank sighs. He’s not sure what to do either-- all Hank really knows is that he wants whatever's best for you. Hank had come to enjoy your presence through the last few days. You were kind and paid attention to Hank and his interests. It was refreshing-- Hank wasn’t used to having some be genuinely impressed by his work.

            “You have to tell her eventually, Charles. You’re only hurting her by hiding it.” Charles groans and leans back in his chair. He was truly dreading this conversation-- he had no doubt in his mind that you’d want what’s best for the other students; Wade mentioned that you had a habit of putting others' needs and feelings before your own.

            “Thank you, Hank. That’ll be all.” He waves the other man out of the room, allowing himself to be left to his own thoughts. Charles’s head ached as he glanced at the report Hank had written on you, one specific observation jumping out at the distressed man: “Y/n Wilson is as much an evolutionary breakthrough as she is a safety hazard-- she must learn to contain her power; if she’s successful, she’ll be one of the most powerful mutants ever recorded. If she fails-- if we fail, the consequences will be as catastrophic and destructive as a nuclear explosive. Proceed with caution.”

______________

            The sound of confused giggles and hurried footsteps echo through the hallway as Peter gently tugs you along, turning to glance at you every now and then. Peter knew you were having trouble getting comfortable with the other students, and he was determined to change that. He had a small group of friends that were eager to meet you-- Peter managed to bring you up in every conversation he’s had with anyone in the past week.

            “Peter, where are we going?” You question as Peter turns around a corner. He just shoots a smile back at you before quickly pulling you into his bedroom-- a bunch of students sitting in various places on the floor. You can recognize a few faces from the hallways, but other than that they’re mostly strangers. Except for one-- I can recognize Kurt from the library.

            “Alright, so, uh, I thought that maybe you’d want to meet some of my friends. Just to-- uhm-- just to get more used to some of the people here.” Peter’s stomach flutters as you grin at him.

            “You did this for me?” Peter nodded before your attention was quickly drawn away from him and to the people around the room. Peter is quick to introduce you to all his friends.

            “Uh, Kurt, Jubilee, Scott, Jean, Ororo, this is Y/n,” A blue teenager materializes in front of me almost instantly. 

            “We met already but it is nice to meet you again,” He grins a toothy grin, his hand extending to shake mine. I’m soon met by a boy wearing odd goggles, presumably Scott, then Jubilee, then Ororo, then finally, Jean. They were all friendly and unique and oddly comforting in a way, regardless of the fact that they were all a full decade younger than you and Peter. 

            “What’s the best way to get to know someone?” Scott asks, glancing at Jubilee. She smirks back at him.

            “In all 16 years of living, I’ve come to learn that the single best way to get to know someone's personality is via the ancient practice of Truth or Dare.” She grins wildly.

            “Oh, uh, I don’t know if--” You can hear Peter inhale sharply as Scott pulls him onto the floor, the other students following suit and soon forming a circle on the floor. Jubilee tugs you down by your sleeve.

            “Alright, who’s first?” Jean quips. Everyone exchanges a look before settling on Peter.

            “Oh, uhm… Kurt, truth or dare?” Everyone seems to be disappointed by Peter’s selection, but they continue nevertheless.

            “Truth.” Peter bites his lip while he attempts to think of a question to ask, and you can’t help but stare. The silver speedster is undeniably cute-- you’ll willfully admit that any day. “Out of everyone here, who do you think is the smartest?”

            “Well, both you and Y/n are much older than ze rest of us, so it’s one von of you two-- sorry Jean, zey just have more experience. Uh, I guess Y/n since I vonce saw Peter try to catch a bird with his bare hands.” You laugh out loud at this new discovery and Peter’s face burns a light red. 

            “Alright, Kurt, it’s your turn.” Jean says. The blue boy scans the crowd before choosing the next victim. 

            “Y/n, truth or dare?” All eyes turned to you expectantly. You were never a coward, so you took the most logical route.

            “Dare.” The entire group jitters with excitement, anticipation for what odd things Kurt would make you do circulating in the air.

            “I dare you… to hold hands with Peter for ze rest of ze game.” Scott and Jean both huff in disappointment as Jubilee and Ororo gaze at Kurt with such fury it was as if they were trying to kill him. This dare was odd, sure, but you weren’t one to back down.

            “Easy peasy,” You quip as you hold out your hand for Peter to take. He laces your fingers with yours and immediately your entire arm feels as if it had just been jostled awake. The feeling of Peter’s hand in yours is foreign, but incredibly welcome. His hands are warm. 

            “My turn, right?” You ask, trying to forget the fact that Peter’s hand is entangled with yours. “Jubilee, truth or dare?” 

            “Truth, and make it good.” She grins. 

            “Whose mutation do you think is the least useful out of everyone in this circle?” Jubilee glances around the circle.

            “Depends. I don’t know what yours is,” she trails off for a moment. “And I don’t wanna be mean…”

            “My mutation is energy manipulation-- I can control the energy that’s constantly being produced.” Peter’s grip on your hand tightens a bit as Jube’s eyes widen. 

            “Okay, that’s fucking awesome so definitely not yours,” she exclaims. “Kurt and Peter are useful in combat, Jean is useful in getting information, Ororo and Scott are both super powerful-- I think my mutation is the least useful.”

            “Don’t say that, Jubilee,” Scott says from across the circle. “You’re useful sometimes.” Jean cringes at his words and both Jubilee and Kurt laugh aloud. Scott seems unaware of his mistake. 

            “Thanks, Scott,” The young girl said before returning to the game. “Alright, my turn again? Ororo, truth or dare?”

            “Dare,” Ororo smirks. She’s quite pretty, her hair looked soft and shimmery-- not dissimilar to Peter’s. 

            “I dare you to knock the power out of the entire mansion for a full five minutes.” Ororo complies, a large clap of thunder echoing through the mansion as the room goes dark. Ororo had created a large thunderstorm to cover for the power outage, lightning and rain wailing down on the windows. Peter grips your hand tightly, his muscles tensing as he shuts his eyes for a moment. The other students are consumed by their chatter and laughter in the darkness.

            “Hey, you okay?” You ask softly. Peter is jumpy and nervous, but he doesn’t want to seem cowardly in front of you. 

            “Y-yeah, I’m just not the b-biggest fan of thunderstorms,” You can tell he’s trying to act tough. Gently, you run your thumb over his knuckles in an attempt to calm him down.

            “Don’t worry, silver, the storm will pass. For now, I can distract you if you’d like me to,” You offer. Peter looks at you for a moment, and his heart skips a beat. You’re kind and sweet and selfless, you’re considerate and caring and wonderful and Peter is in awe of you. 

            “A distraction would be nice.” Peter said quietly, wincing at the weakness in his voice. He was almost 30 years old, one of the oldest among the group in the room and he was cowering because of a little thunder. He felt ashamed and small-- it really was no shocker that you were out of his league. However, when you flipped his hand over and began tracing shapes on his palm with your finger, all of his worries melted away for a moment. 

            After a while, Ororo switched the lights back on and dispersed the storm outside, the group  of teens returning to the antics almost instantaneously. You pulled your hands away from Peter reluctantly.

            “Well, uh, I better get going-- I have some work to do.” You say as you stand up. “It was lovely to meet all of you, this game was pretty fun. I’ll see you around.” You can hear Peter scramble behind you, quickly following you out of the room as if he were a lost puppy. You walked in silence for a while, Peter’s strides in sync with yours as you made your way to your bedroom. You admired the detailed architecture along the walls as you walked, various small symbols were scattered across the wallpaper. You didn’t realize you’d reached your bedroom until you were standing face-to-face with the door.

            “Thank you.” Peter says, his voice low and raspy. He’s not looking at you, his eyes glued to the floor.

            “For what?” The shameful feelings returned as Peter kept his eyes on the floor. He feels like a baby-- a whiny baby who gets afraid during thunderstorms and has trouble articulating his thoughts and feelings. It made him so frustrated when he couldn’t find the words to say what needed to be said-- his mind just moved too fast to grip onto any coherent thoughts. When he glanced into your eyes, he managed to get something out.

            “It’s just that I know a lot of people who would make fun of me for being as old as I am and so easily scared.” You smiled softly, a hint of sadness in your eyes. Peter didn’t want you to pity him, but at this point he just needed to express his gratitude. “Thank you for… not being one of those people.” You took his face gently in your hands and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

            “Anytime, Maximoff. Anytime.” You smiled before opening your bedroom door and stepping inside. The first thing you notice is that the books on your desk have been knocked over. Then, you realize that there was someone standing behind you.

            You yelp, whipping around and shooting out a blast of energy. You didn’t even expel that much force, but the figure is launched into the wall. It’s only then that you realize this figure was actually your father.

            “Dad? What the fuck are you doing here?!” You shout as you rush to help him off the floor.

            “What, I need a reason to come see my daughter?” He jokes as he pops his arm back into its socket. He looks worried, but he masks it with a smile. “It just happens that Charles wanted to see me the same day I came to visit you.”

            “Charles wants to see you? Why?” You ask as Wade pulls you into a hug. A cough from the doorway startles you apart, and a very anxious looking Hank is standing in the doorway.

            “Looks like we’re about to find out,”

[fightevilandthengetblownup]

OT3FIC: American Eskimo Dog

28 -  summer pineapple delude quirky astound greasy moonlight bait

The dogs had had the most excitable day and were all laid about, panting heavily and relaxing after all the excitement across the dry grass of the backyard under the dappled shade of the tree above on the hot summer evening. Will felt an innate wish to be just like them and lay out there as dusk started and the group surrounding the barbecue and smoker drank their beers, and those flitting about the outdoor table put the final place settings and salads out. It had been almost as exhausting keeping up with the conversation of the last two hours as the constant running and spinning the dogs had done.

It wasn’t like any Fourth of July that the empath had ever participated in recently.  Usually he spent the day doing work around the property, maybe a trip to the only open takeaway for Chinese food and trying not to let the dogs go too crazy at the fireworks on the other side of the forest. This year though, Will had found himself surrounded by some of the FBI’s most wanted as well as some others that would have been beyond his belief if someone had told him before he met the blonde that they existed.  It wasn’t even like any of the strange ‘holidays’ that had cropped up in his life.

Since Jo and Grey had moved in, Will’s concept of what constituted a family event had changed and broadened significantly.

Will now found that there were days called Death Days which called for celebration - or rather copious amounts of alcohol and tight hugs that he had thus far managed to avoid being a part of. There were three of them still living that celebrated these - Jo’s usually involving a visit from the brother’s and grumpy surrogate dad; Dean’s was usually one where Jo would be from home and not back for a few days where she would practically fold in on herself in tears in the threshold upon getting home; Sam’s seemingly was a little more joyous an occasion where the tall hunter and his brother would bring fireworks and dubbed it more affectionately Apocalypse Aversion Day (though Will had learned through a hushed conversation with the blonde while she was very intoxicated that this was his second Death Day date but none of them wanted to ever think about the original one and the wheels that put in motion) - and then there were the ones in memoriam. There was one for Jo’s father but that was always her own private day where Will would be lucky to see her at all before sunset, and then it would be straight to bed with warm arms circling her. There was another for a man called John, who so far as Will could tell was the overbearing and controlling, estranged father for the other two hunters, but Jo seemed to spend those talking to the boys on the phone and lighting a pyre in the field for some reason or other. He’d learned there was a date for the older hunter’s wife too, where Jo would visit for a week and come home exhausted and needing sleep more than others.

There were happier seeming occasions and more normal holidays as well like Christmas (which always had a funny story about pagans and an evil witch), and birthday’s. But there was also more obscure ones - like how Jo would go to New Orleans every year for Mardi Gras and only ever explained the rationale as “I’ve got a friend I need to keep honest on the tips. And maybe a patron to see”; and a date that Will had dubbed Monster Day in his mind which always had Grey’s siblings suddenly inundating the farm, or at least the ones in bodies which was still strange to wrap his head around, and Jo scurrying out to the forest away from them after a warm greeting. There was Samhain not Halloween, there was other pagan-based reflections that Jo claimed it was “just smart” to stay in favor of, and there was a date Grey called Love Day not long before Valentine’s Day itself where he would suddenly lavish Jo with gifts. There was also another Love Day which was much the same but to himself, and Will still blushed every time when he realized it was the anniversary of their first time and just how much effort Grey put into being a calm and nurturing presence around him that day.

But that they were doing something particularly normal, particularly average and particularly mundane like Fourth of July was more unusual than normal in the grand scheme of things.

“Comin’ through!” The loud call came from the back door as Will turned his head to the noise to spout Jo spinning about blindly with an entire crate of beers held in her arms with another case on top blocking her face from her path as two of the shadows quickly disperses from her path between the door and the cooler.

“Jo, you shouldn’t-” “I was a freakin’ bartender for longer than you’ve been topside. I can handle some beers.” “Really Cupcake, that’s uncalled for.” “Oh whatever, out of m’ way!”

Will watched in amusement from against the oak’s trunk as Jo bouldered her way across the grass and sat the cartons down as the quirky strangest of the shadow’s ran over to help her unload them and begin filling the coolers. Shada who had objected to the idea of so much manual labor sniffed and turned back to setting out flower vases, candles, salad bowls and other elements along the long picnic table with the tall blonde shadow-girl following her pointed demands with a constant bobbing of her head. The fourth shadow, the dark haired one who always seemed up to causing trouble rolled his eyes watching his siblings and the blonde huntress before turning his attention back to the slightly taller, gangly looking hunter that had been nursing a single beer for four hours and counting but was somehow still wobbling on his feet.

He’d not thought much other than embarrassment upon meeting the eldest of the siblings - or who he perceived to be such, Grey had once tried to explain the concept of age against terminology but it had been a struggle and he had been much more interested in him using his mouth for something other than the explanation at the time - when she appeared during one of their chore days, but since then Shada had grown on him. Especially when he realized that the shadow was just as fiercely protective of her brother as he himself was. The tall blonde - Ombre - had been the next one he’d met, and while she’d been sweet and quiet and demure, Will couldn’t help but think she was trouble waiting to happen one day, like a young child not yet learning to throw her temper tantrums in the terrible twos. Mail had been next, though he’d been accompanied at the time by the fourth one who still hadn’t quite decided or settled on a name for himself (cycling through generic names including the awkward visit he demanded to be called Consuela Banana Hammock), and Will had found both brother’s almost as equally strange in their own ways as one another. Mail’s inability to sit correctly was almost as weird as the way the other would delude himself into thinking he had struck on gold in a conversation when he just made everything odd.

“Did you need anything else for the barbecue?” Grey called out from the back door towards the group of hunters around the charcoal grill, his head poking out from the back door before he started his own passage towards the dining table with yet another salad for the meal. “More tongs or-”

“Don’t worry, we’ve got it Grey.” “More beers would be good though-” “Dean, Jo just brought out more, get one yourself you lazy asshole.” “Bitch.”

“You idjits better shut up and get me a new beer by the time you’re done arguing.” Bobby’s voice cut over whatever Sam might have said in response along with the metal ting of the tongs against the edge of the grill as he growled back at them. There was a laugh from the table and near the drinks as the two girls, closest and strangely good friends from what Will had learned, so different but so similar laughed in response to the hunter’s grumpiness as Dean kicked at the dried clumps of grass under foot.

Looking over at the trio of hunters to that side, joined quickly by the fourth male hunter at the gathering as the shadow currently going by Ben Dover for the day moved towards annoying one of his siblings and Garth Fitzgerald IV moved to the rest of his own group; Will knew that if Jack had any inkling of who was currently flipping steaks, burgers and smoking a pork butt at his house, it would be the most tempting bait to drive the FBI director towards madness.

Of the four hunters, Will had found himself connecting far more to the older hunter than either of the three closer to his own age. A man living alone a large plot of land far away from town, who preferred the company of his canine companion and the solitude of providing for ones self, was definitely someone that Will could always get along with. The gangly hunter, that Jo and Grey alike swore was a werewolf, was probably his second favorite of Jo’s little side to the family - though he had freaked Will out on their first meeting by pulling him into an exceptionally tight hug; the fact that upon releasing Will, Garth had looked shocked, asked if he was a “touch aversion type” and apologized profusely before never doing the same despite the generous bear hugs Jo and Grey alike would get upon greeting had made a soft spot in the agent’s heart for him. Sam and Dean fell somewhere together, inseparable really the same way they were in all ways that Will had seen, but the more he saw the pair and also saw them around Jo and Grey, the more he liked the pair. Dean was gruff and politically incorrect to Sam’s quiet and sass, and Will had been astounded to realize that he appreciated the both for what they had to offer.

“Alright alright, this lot is done, someone get me the fuckin’ fruit.” “Right here, Bobby!” “Well then bring it over, ya brat, I can’t cook it from over there!”

Will shook his head a little, watching as the older hunter piled one of the foil trays that Grey had brought out high with beef and chicken and even some fish burger patties before the shadow covered the tray with more tin foil and moved it towards the table while Bobby scraped off the surface. They moved in tandem that pair, as if synchronized dancers even though Will knew it was more an innate knowledge of cooking that they shared more than experience or practice.

“Girlie, where-” “Here, you old grump!” “ ‘Bout time.”

The blonde hunter had bounded over after a small amount of rummaging with a few air-tight containers at Bobby’s insistence, setting the containers down before hurrying back towards the table to help guide Mail into the correct way to set out cutlery. Will could tell the second that the first slice went down that it was that glorious sticky, spicy pineapple slices recipe that Grey had been developing and that made Will’s mouth tingle with a mix of the acid of the fruit itself, the slight heat of the spice and the natural sweetness as well as the slight crunch of the demerera sugar included that formed the best crystals of crunchy caramel when they were cooked just right. There were also fresh peaches cut and quartered that he knew were for Jo’s favorite salad and that if Hannibal was there he would have had to concede the grilled peach, mozzarella and prosciutto salad worked fantastically well on a balmy summer’s evening like this when the sun was just crossing the horizon and would finally give way to the night. He even figured there might be some watermelon for the feta and rocket salad he’d suggested they try the next time that Shada was visiting from what one of the spectacularly boring looking salads on the table looked like.

“I’ve got to say, the amount of salad is great this year, Jo.” “Oh yes, Sam, Cupcake definitely made the right choices this year!” “I’m excited to try some of them-” “Of course you are, Ombre. At least there’s no Ambrosia salad-” “What salad?!” “It’s bits of canned fruit! In marshmallow!” “Ewwwww!”

The cries from the two female shadows, their voices loud and high pitched in their disgust perking the ears of the dogs that lay about tired and nearby, curiously cocking toward the noise before all of them besides Zoe decided it wasn’t worth investigating. The small dog snuffed her way around, giving a wide berth to the shadows but looking at them curiously until she was picked up in the loving hold of the werewolf with a scratch under her chin as the group of hunter’s shook their heads at the girls’ antics.

Will found himself shaking his head with the same bemusement as he watched the pair go back and forth over why that “isn’t a salad” or “isn’t food” and then further onto the real question of “why is human food so weird sometimes” which he thought was a valid question, as the eldest hunter began to slowly take the remaining steaks and sausages, chicken strips and the vegetarian options off of the grill into respective foil packages that Sam, Dean or Grey would ferry to the dining table while Jo wrangled the lid of the smoker off with the help of Garth to pull the pork butt out; as if the greasy and somewhat unhealthy but altogether delicious meats might prove the girls’ perceptions wrong without much trouble.

“You know, this is a very old tree.” “Yes it is.” “It had deep roots.” “Yep.” “You will weather any storm with roots this deep.”

The empath wasn’t even surprise to hear the gravelly voice beside himself all of a sudden. The final member of their party for the night was always a late comer according to his best friend; and that the angel had popped in from his busy schedule to simply enjoy a barbecue with friends was touching enough. That, as Will turned slightly to look out the corner of his eye, he could see the angel staring at him in return rather than the knotted roots of the tree they were metaphorically discussing was even more touching. Of all the family, he’d been the one Will automatically connected too even more than Bobby - and giving a small smile, the empath waved a hand towards the table as the moonlight started to rise to shine over them all.

“Ready for some dinner, Cas?” “Thank you for the invitation, Will. You and yours are very accommodating.” “We try to be.”

“It is very good. You are all very good, and you should feel blessed.” Cas’ voice was somewhat tighter than usual and as Will patted a hand on the surprisingly small shoulder under his grip, the other nodded in agreement looking out as their dogs dozed, and both sides of his favorite people’s families merged and mingled together in a mass of smiles and laughter, Will knew that the words were entirely true. It was very good, they were all very good and he sure as heck felt blessed as he caught the eye of his love’s and the way their smiles both widened for him.

[theonceoverthinker]

Knight Rook a History Day 5: Happily Ever After - You Sick of HC’s Yet?

Well tough shit if you are because here come more!

So without further adieu, let’s talk Knight Rook HC’s for their happily ever after!

1. Starting off with an unpopular opinion, but I don’t agree with Colin that Killian, Alice, and Robin would live together. I do think they’d live close together like a block or two over and Killian would come over all the time for dinner and whatnot, but I feel this way for a reason. Killian knows that Alice is a fully grown woman and that she and Robin are to be married soon and need a bit of privacy and space to enjoy that. THAT HAVING BEEN SAID:

2. Alice and Killian work together. I don’t care what job they take on (Though detectives and librarians seem to be the popular choices and I’d support either), but Killian and Alice should absolutely spend every day together and make up for lost time. For me, this is just the best way to do it. They get to solve puzzles together, explore, be in constant hugging vicinity while still having that distance.

3. Killian and Alice go out sailing, but while they do sail the Jolly Roger from time to time, Alice suggests that they also upgrade to the modern age and get a speedboat. As he’s much more of a modern man (And because Alice asks and there’s no way he’ll say no to his little starfish), they do just that. They love the speed the thing gets and how close they are to the water. They time each other as they go around courses they devise. While Killian’s initially hesitant, it’s become one of those activities that truly makes him feel alive.

4. After looking at a motivational poster about “The Starfish,” Killian and Alice decide to take up a new hobby. Once a month, they go down to the various beaches all across the kingdoms, find starfishes stranded on the shore, and toss them back into the ocean. They like to think of it as reuniting families, just like how they were reunited.

5. Despite their rocky start, Granny adores Alice. Granny used to make jams for her treats, but they’re not quite as popular in Storybrooke compared to her other desserts. With Alice being the marmalade fan that she is, Granny now has someone to test out new recipes with. Quite often, she’ll have Alice come over for marmalade tastings where they talk about the choice of and uses of fruits and then afterwards, Alice goes around town giving samples of them to the townspeople. Much like she did for the Bayou, it brings in a nice bit of business.

6. Alice is one of Hope’s favorite people. Not only is she one hell of a fun babysitter alongside Robin, but she’s also someone who gets that need to unleash energy. Because of that, alongside spending her childhood in a contained space, she creates exercises that help Hope deal with bursts of energy. She also becomes Hope’s magic teacher for that same reason. Alongside Emma, the two of them help develop Hope into quite the spellcaster!

7. Killian quickly finds a group of friends with his counterpart, David, and Henry. The four of them usually spend time together roughly once a week, watching games, going to arcades, seeing movies, sailing, or whatever fun things they can do together. Out of consideration, Killian’s friends usually don’t bring up going to a bar, but Killian’s managed his sobriety well enough to have a good time there with some water or sodas.

8. Every year, Killian, Alice, Robin, and Gideon take care to visit Rumple at his grave. They pack a picnic lunch filled with all of Weaver’s favorite foods, sit beside his grave (Which was placed next to Belle’s), and tell him about what the past year has been like. They talk about the library, the pawnshop, and their general lives. It’s done with a more relaxed air, though someone usually cries a bit at some point during the day. Towards the end of it, everyone says their individual goodbyes for now and Killian’s always ends the same way: “Goodbye, old friend.”

9. Every year, Killian and Alice organize a Fourth of July party down by the harbor. Every ship throughout the realms is organized and sail throughout the day, taking people on cruises around the realms while there are BBQ’s on the beach. At night, Alice leads a firework show with her magic alongside Emma, Regina, Zelena, and eventually Hope. It’s one of the biggest events of the year and everyone looks forward to it. Friendships and memories are made, alongside the magical chaos that Storybrooke knows and loves.

10. Alice at one point desires to experience all kind of natural disasters first hand. Killian’s absolutely terrifies and exasperated at the prospect, but accompanies her nonetheless to protect her. When a hurricane hits Storybrooke, they’re right outside feeling the intense wind and rains together. They go to Oz and cling to each other as a Cyclone rides through the land just a half a mile away. The feel earthquake-like sensations as Ogres walk around the Enchanted Forest. Even as Killian stands beside his daughter utterly freaked out, he does confess that its some hell of a father/daughter bonding moment that he doubts anyone else would ever have.

[taehyungiestummy]

Summer Dreams -- Chapter Sixteen

Masterlist     Previous     Next

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3053

         “I admire Nari’s work ethic, and how she only took off a few days when we got here, but I wish we could spend more time with her,” Emily sets her camera down on her lap, picking up her pencil to write down another scrapbook idea in her notebook. She’s claimed the recliner today as she works on her passion.

         “I don’t want to interrupt her life too much, though,” I wiggle back to get back into a sitting position against the arm of the couch. I’ve been working on planning characters for a story while also playing phone games when creativity lulls. “We are only here for a few months, and then we will leave, and she’ll have to go back to a normal life without us. I don’t want us to become too much of a constant in her life.”

         “I understand that,” Emily nods a few times. “But she did agree to let us come over, so I think she has prepared herself.”

         “I’m just glad that she takes the time to give us Korean lessons, and that she is cool with letting us do basically whatever we want. Just opening up her home to us for a few months is more than I could have asked for. She’s gone above and beyond. I’m going to miss her so much.”

         “I don’t even want to think about leaving and missing people yet. There’s still a good chunk of summer left, and still so much to do.”

         “You’re right,” I chuckle, stretching out my fingers. “This is going to be the first time we don’t see fireworks on the Fourth of July.”

         “I can’t believe we’ll be spending our first American holiday outside of the United States,” Emily sets her pencil down, quickly putting her hair into a ponytail. “Do you think Nari will let us have a little party with American food?”

         “I don’t think why not,” I shrug. “She has spent her whole life learning and experiencing two cultures, so she would understand us wanting to have a little fun.”

         “We could even ask the boys to come if they can get the time off.”

         “That would actually be amazing,” I grin, looking back down at the spiral notebook on my lap. “It would be a lot more fun with more than just the three of us.”

         “We still have to meet two members, as well.”

         “Then we can dive headfirst into their music, and music videos, and interviews. It will still be weird since we know them, but it will help when we can’t see them.”

         “You just want to be able to see Taehyung even when you can’t be in the same room as him,” Emily chuckles.

         “I mean, yeah, that’s part of it,” I slightly smile.

         “Never thought that my best friend would be in a long-distance relationship, but if she’s happy, then I am over the moon.”

         “I am very happy right now. Oh, I just remembered, that quote you said yesterday,” I put down my pencil, looking back up at my best friend.

         “You did write it,” Emily looks up from her camera. “I remember from some story you had me read. I’m not sure what, but it was you. I’ve always like it, so that’s probably why I remember it.”

         “I’ve been thinking about it. The puzzle of my life is slowly coming together, year by year, more pieces are placed. This summer, I think that I have figured out a lot more than I was planning, so that is fun,” I awkwardly chuckle.

         “I’ve figure out that I do have the best friend in the world. Also, boys aren’t terrible, and can make me so happy.”

         “Well, I’ve already known that first one for a while since I love you and all. But, I think, that the other half is true for me in a different way. I knew that boys could be good if I found the right one to get close too, but I didn’t think it would happen for a while.”

         “Taehyung is a good match for you. The way he tries so hard to meet up with you, and how he makes you smile, and just how he wants to talk to you. It is so heartwarming to see it. More so with you being my best friend. All the trouble you’ve had with boys in the past, you deserve happiness with him.

         “It’s hard to fully fall for him since he’s a Korean star and all, though. It feels like an out-of-body experience when we are together, like he could disappear at any moment.”

         “And he has the choice of so many other girls? That scares you too, right?”

         “Yeah,” I take a deep breath. “It seems like a joke.”

         “Amber, you can’t see it, but when Taehyung looks at you, his eyes show it all. There is a sparkle that shines when his eyes land on you. He truly likes you. There’s no doubt about it. Trust me.”

         I look down at my writing: pages full of characters falling in love, something I really want. “Thank you.”

         “What?”

         “Thank you for telling me that. I needed to hear it.”

         “Oh, you’re welcome.”

         “Now, keep taking pictures, or looking through them to plan your scrapbooks, and I will keep writing away at something.”

         “I believe Taehyung is what you’ve been waiting for.”

         “I believe Namjoon might be for you.” I glance up to see my best friend smiling.

         “Maybe. I’m not objecting, and we keep getting closer by circumstances, so it is possible.”

         “He’s a little more reserved, so it is hard to tell, but I think he enjoys being around you. He knows that every time that Tae meets up with me, he gets to see you. I think it is sweet that he’s giving you a chance.”

         “I mean, he kind of has to since Taehyung needs him to talk to you.”

         “He could have just been polite without getting to know you, so I think you are just saying bullshit because you don’t want to admit that you could have a small crush on that boy,” I tilt my head just enough to see Emily’s cheeks reddening.

         “You did the same then before admitting that you liked Taehyung, so do not flip this on me,” she smirks, catching my gaze. “I’m testing the water, to see if what I am feeling is true. Don’t worry, you will be the first one to know how I feel when I figure it out.”

         “Good,” I look back now at my papers. “I need to be in the loop.”

         “You do know that we have to ask Nari if it will be okay to come back next summer?” Emily throws the conversation into a new direction.

         “I know, but I am just waiting for the right moment to run the idea pass her. Plus, I don’t want to think too much about next summer because the only way we can come back is if we want to leave, and I am not ready to leave yet.”

         “Then you probably don’t want to think about your birthday.”

         “Hm, no, we can talk about me birthday. It will be weird not being back home for it, but I think that we will still have a great time here.”

         “I know you will want a chocolate cake, as you have for the past five years.”

         “I think it has been six,” I giggle. “I love me some chocolate.”

         “We’ll probably have it here to make it easier. Take-out for the meal to make it easier, and you’ll probably invite the boys.”

         “Of course,” I smile, wishing that my phone would ring. It’s been silent since this morning, as Taehyung greets me through text every morning. “It would be boring without them.”

         “It would also be the last guaranteed day that we could be together.”

         “What did I say about talking about the end of the summer? I don’t want to think about the last anything.”

         “It’s not for over a month, so there is no reason to fret over it.”

         “The saying is that time flies when you are having fun, so I just know that the days are going to start flying by.”

         “Just knowing that we are getting closer to half-way sucks.”

         “Thank you for bring that up,” I let the sarcasm drip off my words, looking up to glare at her.

         “Sorry, sorry,” Emily raises her hands in defense. “What do you want to talk about?”

         “How about I turn some music on and we just focus on what we are doing?”

         “That sounds like it would be for the best,” she slightly smiles. “Maybe the boys will text soon to let us know when we can meet another member.”

         “I just want someone to text,” I pick up my phone, going to Spotify for the K-pop radio. “Now, let us enjoy some music as we continue to relax.”

********

         “Girls, I have to say, that I am impressed at how quickly you are picking up this language,” Nari widely smiles as we finish up our Korean lesson for the night. “I am also proud at how you are so willing and eager to take on the challenge that is Korean. You can have short conversations now, which is a lot more than you could say just a few weeks ago.”

         “It’s all thanks to you, Nari,” I place my notebook down on the coffee table. “Without you, we would be mispronouncing every other word, and probably wouldn’t have gotten far with learning.”

         “Thank you for being an amazing teacher,” Emily adds. “This is only the beginning of us tackling Korean, so I hope you are prepared for being our teacher for a long while.”

         Nari chuckles, “Of course. I will be your teacher until you two tell me that you don’t need anymore help. I’m sure it won’t take you two long to master Korean, and by that, I mean as much as I know and can teach. There are still areas of the language that mess me up sometimes.”

         “I think that everyone feels that way with their native language,” I settle back into the couch. “English can still be a struggle.”

         “There are so many rules in English,” Nari shakes her head. “If I didn’t grow up learning both languages, then we would not be having this conversation right now.”

         “I can’t even not being here right now,” I sigh, looking over at Emily. “Everything is perfect right now.”

         “I have to agree,” Emily lazily smiles at me. “Amber have the chance to picked from a multitude of family from all over the world. I’m glad it ended up being you.”

         “Ah, yes, your parents told me that when they contacted me the first time,” Nari nods a few times. “I was so scared because I hadn’t talked to you for many years, and I hadn’t been with you in person since your birth. All I could think about was freaking you out, pushing you away, ruining my chance to be the one you picked to spend a whole summer with. It would have sucked if you decided to go with another family member. I love that I was able to open my home to two curious girls, and that they fell in love with my country.”

         “The first time we Skyped, I was surprised because up to that point all the other people I was talking to were a lot older than me,” I look over at my cousin. “That was a point in your favor, as I knew the others would force me to do certain things on certain days. I just wanted to be able to relax and have fun while exploring a new place, culture, and language.”

         “I was sold when Amber showed me pictures of the area,” Emily speaks up. “It was a little odd that we would be coming to Korea, but knowing that a young cousin would be taking us in made it much better.”

         “I am so glad that I was lucky enough to be the one you picked,” Nari giggles. “It’s a good thing that I am young and understand what it is like to be a teenager that just wants to have fun.”

         “Fun means doing little but spending it with the people you love,” I fall onto my side. “To me, anyways, as I am introverted, and people tire me out.”

         “That’s why I am her best friend,” Emily taps my back with her foot. “We balance each other out, as I am more extroverted, and can talk when she shuts down.”

         “You two are super close, too,” Nari says. “If I remember correctly, you have been friends since elementary school. That’s more than half of your lives. I’m sure you know everything about each other.”

         “We have secrets,” Emily and I say as one.

         “Gah, that freaks me out,” Nari wiggles as a shiver runs through her body. “You are like the twin girls in The Shining, which I can read the book, but the movie gives me nightmares.”

         “Come play with us, Nari,” Emily and I are quick on the draw, but can’t help bursting into laughter.

         “I was going to rush out of the apartment if you two didn’t just burst into laughs,” Nari chuckles, shaking her head. “Now, I want to be caught up on your adventures, so what have you been doing the past few days?”

         “Three days ago we met Hoseok at the café, so that was nice to get out,” I answer. “The day after tomorrow we are going to meet another member, which is exciting and saddening because that we have almost met all the boys. It is just crazy how this summer is turning out.”

         “I have to agree with that.”

         “Other than that, we are just staying in,” Emily continues for me. “Playing video games, or doing our own little projects. I’ve never cooked so much in my life, so that has been fun.”

         “I love that you girls cook,” Nari runs a hand through her hair. “All you have to do is follow a recipe, and then it is perfect.”

         “I am more of a sweet making girl, but I have enjoyed making simple Korean dishes.”

         “It feels better knowing that we are making something to give to another person and not just ourselves,” Emily nods a few times.

         “Sure, sure, now, back on topic, what is up with you and your crushes?” Nari smirks.

         “I am just happy whenever Taehyung is able to meet up, and I am taking every day one step at a time,” I answer. My fingers instantly reach down to mess with the hem of my shirt. “I’ve had crushes before, but he makes me feel much different than those. Probably because he is reciprocating the feelings back to me, and I don’t have to stress over if he likes me or not. I know he does, and I hope that we keep getting closer.”

         “It warms my heart knowing that you are finding good friends, and possibly a future boyfriend,” Nari clasps her hands together. “I am still trying to wrap my head around that those friends are idols, but I trust that they are good people.”

         “Emily is also developing a crush that she will not accept,” I shift back into a sitting position. “You two gave me shit for not admitting I liked Tae, so now I feel like the same should happen to Emily.”

         “Namjoon is a nice guy, and I appreciate all that he has done for us,” Emily speaks up. “But I don’t want to mistake those feelings for me thinking I like him. I am just waiting to see how we continue to be around each other as our Korean knowledge expands. This is a different situation than yours.”

         “Shut up,” I pout. “I just didn’t want to be teased anymore. However, I do believe that Emily is forming a crush on Namjoon, which is super cute.”

         “Maybe,” she mumbles, adverting her gaze as her cheeks begin to take on a red tint. “I just don’t want to get my hopes up and find out that he doesn’t like me back. Taehyung clearly likes you, Amber, but Namjoon has yet to say anything close to that towards me. He’s just being a gentleman, and I can’t know if he is like that with everyone he meets since I barely know him.”

         “I completely understand that, Emily,” Nari speaks up. “There’s no wrong way in approaching a relationship, and maybe this is just a crush that goes nowhere. It is okay if the two of you stay just friends. I think that you’ll find someone that fits perfectly with you, and that is all that matters. Lucky for Amber, though, because she seems to have already found that person.”

         My cheeks heat up at the comment. “That’s very nice of you to say, Nari. I’m hoping that it all works out.”

         “Well, I think that we have exhausted the topic of boys,” Nari slaps her hands on her thighs.

         “Hold up,” I narrow my eyes at my cousin. “What about you, noona?” I tease. “Is there not a boy that you like?”

         “Me?” Nari points at herself as a chuckle leaves her mouth. “Oh, that is sweet to ask, but I do not have my eye on anyone. I dated briefly in high school, but then I dove into my work and didn’t have time to be in a relationship. That is fine by me, of course. It is the path that I chose.”

         “So, you just need someone who understands hard work like you do, and then it will be perfect.”

         “But also someone who knows how to have a fun time and relax,” Emily adds in. “There has to be a balance.”

         “I guess so,” Nari shrugs. “Don’t go out of your way to find someone for me, though. I am happy with my life at this moment, and I don’t think that I could handle being in a relationship at this time.”

         “Sure,” I goofily smile. “How about we watch a drama to end the night? They’re starting to grow on me, and I think I may be hooked.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Hope you enjoyed reading! I wish I could tell you how many chapters are left, but I don’t even know yet myself. Another chapter will be out on in a few days, so be prepared for that! :D

[lavendersmiles]

31 oneshots for the 31 prompts of SasuSaku Month 2018! ✨🎉💙❤️

Uwaaaa I made it again! I was lowkey afraid I couldn’t finish it this year because of work and preparations for medical school, but the constant love and support helped me fight my nasty writer’s block! Thank you so much who left their love, thoughts, and also reblogged! Late compilation since the first weeks of med is already ~intense~

For every story, I incorporated the prompt as well as other ones intended for another day - basically I just played with all 31 prompts 😂 I pushed myself to write not less than 1k words per oneshot... but the last 3 ones were only around 500 words each since I lacked time and wanted to finish everything by the end of July~

These oneshots are all compiled at fanfiction.net under Little Pieces of Forever II and are tagged with ‘lavender writes’ in my blog. Now I’m off to study again ja ne minna

Day 1: Heroes - In Her Eyes

Day 2: Side by Side - Unconsciously

Day 3: Restless - Searching With You

Day 4: Burn - Hisashiburi

Day 5: Height Difference - Changes

Day 6: Ghosts - What I Found

Day 7: Tanabata - A Celebration of Our Own

Day 8: Flowers - Captured Feelings

Day 9: Written in the Stars - Her Love

Day 10: Anywhere - Things I Do for Love

Day 12: Dinner - With You

Day 13: Summer Heat - Coffee, Books, and You

Day 14: Wait for Me - The One Who Waits

Day 15: Training - For the Future

Day 16: Sparks - Fireworks

Day 17: Body Talk - Unwind

Day 18: Something Better - Your Presence

Day 19: Coffee and Tea - Habits

Day 20: Compromise - For Your Sake

Day 21: Cloaks - Fate’s Weaving

Day 22: Little Things - His Gestures

Day 23: New Dream - Wishes

Day 24: No Mercy - Protect

Day 25: Slow Down - The Passage of Time

Day 26: Promise - Fulfilled Promises

Day 27: Scarlet Spring - The Season’s Gift

Day 28: Silence - Home

Day 29: Closure - More Than A Date

Day 30: Expectation - Someday We’ll Know

Day 31: Free Day - What the Future Holds

[cblgblog]

In honor of Steve’s 100th birthday, here’s some Stegginelli. 

“Happy fucking birthday. I hate you.”

This greeting did nothing to quell Steve’s hatred of his birthday.

Half laughing, half wincing, Steve kissed the back of Angie’s neck, which was about as much physical contact as she allowed him these days. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“Burn in hell,” she grumbled, kicking off the sheets that tangled around her legs.

“Already there, darling.” Peggy’s voice was equally grumpy as she shifted in bed, enough to place her hand on the bump of Angie’s stomach. “I hope this one at least got some sleep.”

“This one needs to get out, that’s what this one needs.” Levering herself up with assistance from Steve, Angie wiped sweat soaked curls from her eyes. “Peg, how is it that Howard can build himself flying cars, but fixing the AC in this place is too much for him?”

“The car remains a bust, unless you want a few seconds of hovering followed by a colossal thud.”

“Bet the car has AC though.” Heaving out a great sigh, Angie kissed Steve, brief and soft. “Happy birthday. Really. Love you.”

“I love you.” Steve put his hand on Angie’s belly, next to Peggy’s. “Both of you.”

Angie hummed. “Birthday tradition’s still off. Sorry, Soldier.”

“It’s not like I can do any more damage,” Steve said, drumming his fingers over the taut skin that concealed their first child.

“Who says? Mr. super serum, you might plant one in there before this one’s even out.”

“I really don’t think that’s going to happen.”

“I really don’t think I’m risking it. Peg, do your duty, think of England.”

A small explosion of sound invaded their room, another in the endless barrage of fireworks that’d been assaulting them for four days straight. Peggy flinched. “Oh I am,” she said, scowling. “Were I home, I’d be having a perfectly wonderful lie-in instead of listening to you ungrateful Yanks carry on.”

“So, no birthday tradition then?” Steve asked.

“Darling, given the seemingly infinite stocks of fireworks in this city, and how hot, twitchy and exhausted I already am, do you really want my teeth so close to that part of your anatomy?”

“Right. Maybe next year. You are hot though.”

“Mmm. Still a no.”

“Damn right. Don’t listen to him, Peg, that’s how I got like this.  Maybe all the noise will scare this thing out,” Angie said. “One of you shove over, I have to pee. Again.”

Steve shoved over, helped Angie up. “Come on, you don’t want the baby born today.”

“Don’t I? It’s been squatting inside me way too long.” Angie pressed her fingers into her lower back, working at a soreness that never seemed to ease.

“Cheer up, love,” Peggy said, not cheerful at all as she stood, “you’ll be squatting soon enough, and then the trespasser will be out.”

“Screw you, English.”

Another blast of sound went off. Peggy cursed. “Ungrateful bloody bastards, the lot of you.”

Steve was left standing by himself as Peggy muttered about making breakfast “assuming the heat from the oven doesn’t kill us all.” Angie waddled off to the bathroom (waddling was the only thing to call it, though to actually do so risked death). A moment later she declared that one of them better be on hand in case she got stuck to the toilet seat.

“Happy birthday to me,” Steve muttered.

***

All in all, it went as well as a reasonably terrible day was ever going to go. Peggy made him a birthday breakfast, one of the rare occasions she admitted her ability to cook. They went to the Martinelli house for a barbecue. Angie’s father and oldest brother had both gone to war, understood the harsh reactions that the fireworks triggered in Steve and Peggy. The four of them sat in the blistering heat and complained about that for awhile, and then several of Angie’s brothers called her a fat penguin in a flower dress.

The resulting bloodshed was less than Steve would’ve expected, but that was only due to Angie’s disinclination to move. “This thing you stuck me with is leeching out all my strength,” she’d said.

When they got home, Angie barely bothered to kick her shoes off before taking over the nearest couch. She mentioned the leeching situation again, then dropped off to sleep. Steve lost track of Peggy but didn’t pursue her. He saw in her eyes that she needed a break from the constant intrusions of sound, wished he could provide it as a short but loud series of blasts went off in the distance. Sometimes he hated his enhanced hearing.

Angie slept through it, her dress hiked up past her stomach with no care for modesty. Steve, knowing he risked death if he disturbed her, sat himself on the floor near Angie. She was flushed and sweaty from the heat, and he wished he could give her the benefits of a serum-regulated body temperature. He wasn’t comfortable, but he had it far better than either of his spouses. Carefully, he placed a hand on Angie’s bare belly, rubbed slow circles.

“Don’t tell her I told you this,” Steve said quietly. “Don’t listen to your mama, not this time. You stay put awhile longer. You don’t want to come on my birthday.”

His birthday had never bothered him, ironically, until he became Captain America. Then it became a sign, almost a joke, really. Of course Captain America would share America’s birthday. The date became less about everything else that made it important, everyone else, and more about him. The interviewers would ask if he knew from the beginning, because of his birthday, that he was meant for something special, if his mother knew. Most of them stopped asking when his answer remained the same, that his mother probably would’ve preferred he show up a month later, when he was meant to, shown up healthy.

“You don’t want my birthday,” he continued, voice warm in the heat as he spoke to his child.  “You deserve your own day, where we all celebrate just you. Not me or the country or anything else, just you and how amazing you are and how happy we are. And a day when your mum and me aren’t so grumpy.”

Footsteps across the hardwood. “I’ve every right to be grumpy,” Peggy said. “Ungrateful bastards, the lot of you.”

“I know, Peg.” Steve smiled as he felt her arm around his shoulder, her lips in his hair as she stood behind him.

“It wouldn’t be the worst, if he chose to make his appearance now,” said Peggy. “At least it would give me a reason to look forward to this wretched day.”

“Right. Because you don’t have that already.”

“You know what I mean.”

Steve took her hand, his other one remaining on Angie’s stomach. “Wouldn’t be the worst,” he conceded, “but wouldn’t be the best. And she deserves the best.”

“He.”

“She.”

“Whatever it is,” Angie said, voice heavy with sleep, “it wants you both to shut up.”

“How long have you been awake?” Steve asked. He should’ve caught the change in her breathing, but he found that the baby tended to take up most of his focus.

“Long enough to want you to shut up,” Angie said with fake annoyance, real affection. She reached a hand out, touched Steve’s cheek. “Wouldn’t be a bad birthday, you know. Lots of great people with that birthday.”

Steve kissed Angie’s forehead as Peggy moved to sit at the end of the couch, taking Angie’s swollen ankles into her lap. “She’ll be great all on her own,” Steve said, “with her own great birthday.”

Angie sighed heavily, stroked his face again, through his hair, before covering his hand on her stomach. “Well you heard it, kiddo. You can stay where you are today, that’s daddy’s birthday present. After that, you got a week to get out or I’m having a lease drawn up.”

Steve smiled. He loved his birthday.

***

In the early hours of July 7th, Steve was awoken with an elbow to the ribs. Peggy received similar treatment, judging by the cursing.

“Bloody hell, Angie. The AC’s fixed, those goddamn fireworks have finally stopped. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a decent sleep?”

“Little over a week,” came Angie’s voice through the cool darkness. “Boo hoo, I’ve had an invader in my stomach for nine months.”

“Yes, my gorgeous, perfect darling, I noticed that about seven months ago. Is there a pressing reason you’re bringing it up now?”

“I think it’s pressing to get out, finally. That reason enough for you?”

Steve felt his heart stop, something that should be next to impossible given the serum. He turned on the bedside lamp and saw Peggy looking significantly more awake than she’d sounded moments ago. “You mean…?” He struggled for words.

Angie grinned. “I think they think it’s safe to come out now that all the fireworks have stopped.”

Peggy huffed, took Angie’s hand with one of hers while picking up the phone next to their bed with the other. “At least we know the child has good sense, waiting for all that nonsense to end. Are you alright, my love?”

“Never better,” Angie said, still smiling. “You alright, Steve? Haven’t said much.”

What was there to say? He cupped Angie’s face in his hands, kissed her, smiling from ear to ear. “Never better, Ange, never for a second.”

[jeffdominguez]

Then fall, Caesar...

The passing of political firebrand Robbie Waters is a massive loss for the Greenhaven/Pocket community he once lovingly led with an iron fist  Robbie Waters was not a man who summoned ambivalent emotions among those who knew him. It may not be a conventional observation to note in memoriam that those who counted themselves as a man’s friends were more or less in pretty close proportion to those who… did not, but this is true of Robbie. Generally, a person’s feelings about him were either black or white. Somehow, very few opinions were ever gray.

If he liked you, there was no better friend to have in this world. He would throw the full weight and considerable power of his standing in the community and in citywide government, including law enforcement, behind your cause, whatever it may be. And if you crossed him, he was not one to forget it. You could bet that he would not allow you to forget it, either. He loved his city, especially his district, and he devoted tireless effort throughout his life to the betterment of both. People seemed to understand that about him—it was definitely a virtue—and he won election, and re-election, to the Sacramento City Council, for four terms in total. For 16 years, 1994-2010, he found himself perched atop a mini dynasty that recalled those old Chicago political machines, all run from his nerve center, a small office in the back of the True Value hardware store he co-owned in the Promenade shopping center.

Robbie was a legit hometown boy. He was born here in Sacramento in 1936. He attended Kit Carson Junior High and Sacramento High School. He excelled at sports and grew to be a “big fish in a small pond.” And as the pond grew, so did he, in proportion, putting him in the rare category of “big fish in a big pond.” After graduation from Sac High in 1954, he enlisted in the United States Air Force, and, upon his return home in 1957, he joined the Sacramento Police Department (SPD), where several chapters of his considerable legend would be written.

He climbed the ranks within the SPD like the kid who free soloed El Capitan, ascending great heights at a remarkably brisk pace, employing an occasional death-defying maneuver to get from station to station along the route. He was in charge of the Detective Bureau, served as a Lieutenant in the Homicide Division, ran Internal Affairs. He arrested a Manson-clan member who attempted to assassinate President Gerald Ford in Capitol Park. In 1975, following a dramatic shooting incident at Neptune’s Table ­­­­in the South Hills  shopping center, he was awarded the Sacramento Police Department Silver Medal of Valor.

Somewhere in all of this, he managed to earn his bachelor’s degree in Criminology from Sacramento State University, and he graduated from the FBI National Academy in Advanced Criminology. People tend to think of Robbie as a man who’s been handed things in life, but the almost absolute inverse is the actual truth. He worked nonstop for every accomplishment he realized. His heart pumped ambition. He inhaled opportunity and exhaled achievement. “Doing” was in his DNA. In 1982, he ran for his first elective office, Sacramento County Sheriff. And guess what: he won. He remained Sheriff until 1987.

His personal life, like his professional life, is marked by significant milestone achievements. His first personal home run came in the form of the diminutive Judie Kent, a blond girl he met on a blind date specially arranged after they’d spotted one another at a pool party they’d attended the week before, each with other dates. Like everything else he’d ever achieved, Robbie did whatever it took to make Judie his, and after a year-long courtship, they married. “I was 20 years old, and I weighed 99 pounds,” says Judie. Over the course of their marriage, she would prove to be worth her weight in gold to Robbie.

 Robbie and Judie were blessed with three great children, each born with a brightness that threatened their father’s considerable wattage, Dee Dee, Darren, and Danny. The Greenhaven neighborhood was more bare land than homes when Robbie took on the gargantuan task of constructing his own home—“Greenhaven 70” was the name of the development. With the help of many friends and family members, the home was finished in 1969, and the Waters moved in. 

After they installed their pool, the Waters residence became a hub among the children in the neighborhood. Behind the scenes, Robbie and Judie did what they could to eke out for their kids a childhood that was as normal and idyllic as could be expected when your dad is an extremely visible public law enforcement figure, Sacramento’s answer to a Clint Eastwood character, right down to the conservative politics.

Anyone who was active in any community endeavor in the Greenhaven/Pocket area was bound to cross paths with Robbie at some point. To enumerate all of his awards and accomplishments and civic memberships would be tantamount to emptying a can of alphabet soup in front of a reader. Separately, these achievements are each impressive monuments that speak volumes for his willingness to support a worthwhile cause with deeds rather than just words, for his selfless and remarkable bravery in the face of great danger, for the stunning level of proven expertise he possessed in his avocation. Collectively, they become the proverbial forest that obscures trees, a phone book of feats that simply cannot be properly appreciated when compiled into list format.

I knew Robbie because he co-owned the hardware store with my great hometown friend, Jay Weathers. Robbie always had a kind word in passing, a friendly greeting. We became forever linked in 1996, when I hatched an idea for a multi-pronged 4th of July celebration for our community—a parade, a carnival, and, eventually, an aerial fireworks display at Garcia Bend Park. It would be fashioned after the homespun Independence Day celebrations I enjoyed growing up in the Delta. It seemed to me like a natural for the Greenhaven/Pocket neighborhood. The first thing I could think to do was to go to Robbie for help in getting my plan off the ground, so I drove over to the hardware store and found him in his “district office.” He liked the idea, but he was a little skeptical about the scale I had in mind for the event. He was, after all, a politician now, and he had his eye steadfastly on the big picture, on public perception, on votes. In the end, though, he ensured that I had everything I needed to pull it off.

When the event was delivered, it was extremely well received and overwhelmingly embraced by the community. He was pleased, and he wanted a larger say in related decisions. That was a source of great conflict between us. We probably disagreed on more than we agreed on, and we argued strenuously while holed up in that back office at the hardware store. But not many people ever knew that kind of tension ever existed. In public, we were all smiles, and when it really counted, he had my back, and I had his. Politically, we were opposites, but we had this common interest that bonded us and fostered a mutual respect that remains of a value to me that I can’t adequately convey with mere words. And that, for me, is saying something.

This is who Robbie… was. It hurts to refer to him in past tense now. He was constantly climbing. He was no stranger to power, and he liked it, and he was good at it. He wanted to hold onto it, and he always wanted a little more. The latter of these is an exceedingly common human quality, a great thing when it’s wielded by a man whose heart is in the right place. And it’s a disaster when it resides in less of a man. Fortunately for all of us, Robbie was more of a man.

Robbie seemed to be the author of the philosophy, it’s better to ask forgiveness than permission. In fact, he personally introduced me to that approach to getting things done in a bureaucracy. We need look no further than the local controversy that developed when he ordered “City of Trees” to be painted on the Freeport water tower for an example. That was classic Robbie. But whenever a problem in our neighborhood came up that needed to be addressed, Robbie proved himself to be indispensable. He was supremely responsive, and he followed up the issue like a dog on a bone.

In my favorite Shakespearean play, Julius Caesar, Caesar is shown to be an incredibly effective leader, and Rome thrives under his reign. He is roundly loved by all of his people, and he loves them deeply in return. His detractors, however, point to his constant desire to expand his own power. They refer to him as ambitious, an unforgivable failing for a leader in those days. The senate members do Caesar in and turn the people against him, until Mark Antony comes along and reminds everyone that Caesar’s actions were always for the good of the people. We see, in brilliant oratory, how there are always two sides to a story. Human beings—even leaders, it turns out—are made in three dimensions, not one, not two. When Rome’s citizens are shown all sides of Caesar’s humanity, he is universally mourned.

Robbie Waters was brutally tough. He was undeniably ambitious. He was a formidable opponent to his political enemies. He could be short, blunt, uncomfortably plainspoken. He carried a grudge. And he was unapologetic regarding all of the above. But he also loved his family with all of his heart. And he loved his city. He enforced the law, and he kept us safe. He was willing to work tirelessly on behalf of a good cause. Above all, he was a relentless advocate for our community.

I encourage everyone to consider Robbie in full 3-D when thinking about his life and his legacy. You may come to bury him, but I promise you’ll end up praising him.

Rest in peace, Robbie.

[yeehawbisexualold]

It’s a Party in the USA

A Fourth of July AU written for CS AU week day 1: Holiday AU. America vs. Great Britain antics ensue.

The rivalry started when Killian first moved in three years ago. It was less than a week from the Fourth of July and he made an offhand comment about how he hoped she wasn’t as “into” the holiday as his buddy David.

Emma wasn’t. At least, not yet.

At the age of 15, it was the first holiday she celebrated with the Nolan family, her first taste of how all out the family went for holidays. Being the wholesome, all-American family they were and living in one of the thirteen original colonies no less, Independence Day was the holiday they did with the biggest bang. Mr. and Mrs. Nolan invited all of their close friends and the entire block to their patriotic, backyard BBQ extravaganza—red, white and blue decorations galore, meat from every American animal imaginable, all sorts of water activities, a bounce house and face paint for the youngsters, and fireworks, so many fireworks.

It was all a little overwhelming at first, the extravagance and grandeur, but it soon became something she looked forward to. For that reason, it became her favorite holiday. But she didn’t make a big deal about it. She didn’t put on as much fanfare as her adoptive family. She mostly just showed up and enjoyed the festivities.

“Actually, I am,” she told him, straight faced and with zero hesitation.

Her and Killian weren’t antagonistic with each other but they did enjoy a little it of conflict. They bantered well, argued better, and seemed to disagree with each other often enough to keep things… interesting.

She wasn’t about to let this little dig towards her country and her brother’s enthusiasm slide.

It escalated quickly after that.

The America vs. Britain argument was a constant debate. Emma would do a little extra for the holiday, dress a little more patriotic, hang up some streamers around the apartment. Killian would combat that by wearing a British flag shirt and humming God Save The Queen. It wasn’t just the holiday that brought tension though. No, that was a year long thing.

(“Why do you Americans put the month before the date? It doesn’t make sense.”

“It’s easier to say January 1st than the 1st of January.”

“Yet the holiday celebrating your country is the Fourth of July.”

“You mean the country celebrating our independence? The independence we gained from yours?”

He printed out a chart comparing the homicide levels and taped it to the fridge. The next day she printed out a chart comparing the number of Olympic gold medals.

 She poked fun at the stupidity of Brexit. He fired back when Trump was elected.) 

Most people would probably take prudence not to agitate a new relationship but she doesn’t intend to call a cease fire now that they’re together. If anything, she’s more determined than ever. She hopes he feels the same. Because this year, she has big plans. 

She gets up before Killian, a feat in of itself (slipping out of bed without alerting him and managing to wake before him.) She gives herself just enough time to decorate the apartment and set up her pranks before he joins her in the land of wakefulness. 

Sneaking back into their bedroom, she makes sure he’s still asleep and then places the portable speaker on the nightstand next to his head. Carefully, she drops one leg on either side of his hips, moving into the position of kneeling above him, hovering just enough to not make contact. 

Giddy off vindictiveness, she presses play on the remote and exceedingly enjoys the way he shoots up, eyes wild, startled awake by the sound of Miley Cyrus’ Party in the USA. She blows into her party horn and smirks down at him.

His eyes narrow and his brows furrow, a mixture of annoyance and arousal, as he takes her in, sitting astride him I n a strapless corset, red and white striped with a square of blue with white stars over her right boob, and a pair of matching blue and white starred underwear. He looks to the speaker on the night stand, back to her, back at the speaker, and then back at her.

“Ok, you’ve had your fun. Will you please turn that off?” he asks, looking thoroughly put out.

“But it’s a Party in the USA,” she says, saccharine sweet, slowly moving her hips back and forth.

“This party would be a lot more fun with out the tunes.”

She pretends to consider it for a moment, running her hands up and down his bare chest, scratching her nails through his hair. “Mmm, no.”

“I’m sure I can figure out a way to convince you,” he growls before flipping her over so that she’s underneath him.

“You can try,” she giggles, pulling his mouth down to hers.

~

He shouts, completely horrified, from the bathroom. "Swan!“

“Yes?” She doesn’t really need an answer though. She’s sure he’s found the box of Twinnings tea dumped in the toilet.

“This is blasphemous! Sacrilegious!”

“I put tea in the toilet, Killian. I didn’t light a cross on fire then drop it on a pentagram.”

She calms him down enough to get in the shower, promising she’ll never waste perfectly good tea like that again, and then begins working on breakfast—white chocolate chip pancakes topped with strawberries and blueberries, with a side of iced tea.

“Something smells delicious,” he hums, coming up from behind and nuzzling her ear. He stops suddenly though when he realizes the additions she’s made to his favorite breakfast. “Really, Swan?”

“White chocolate for taste and the berries for healthiness.” She turns around and plants a kiss on his disgruntled mouth before stepping away to take a shower of her own.

“Why can’t the streamers be enough?” he grumbles to himself.

She sings cheerily along to Fifty Nifty United States as she scrubs herself with her apple pie body wash and smiles at the thought of him humming God Save The Queen or some other British anthem to himself in order to tune her out. Surely he can’t be feeling to joyous what with the way he’s scrubbed the words “England Sucks” off the bathroom mirror.

It’s Emma’s turn to be irked when she steps out of the bathroom to find him standing in a full British flag suit.

“No. Absolutely not,” she says clutching the towel to herself and shaking her head.

“Come on, love. You didn’t think you were the only one with a bit of naughtiness up your sleeve, now did you?” He’s smirking and his eyes are alight with mischief.

“I hope David kicks your ass.”

She dresses in a red and white stripped dress, blue flipflops, and little star earings—something she had thought would be patriotic enough but pales in comparison to Killian’s obnoxious suit. She ties a red and white polka dot bandana around her head and flexes her arm at him.

“Ready to go?” she asks and he simply kisses her bicep and nods.

When she steps back into the living room she finds images of famous British figures taped all over the walls—the queen, The Beatles, David Beckham, J.K. Rowling, Freddie Mercury, Princess Diana,  Jane Austen along with the cover of Emma, even One Direction. She clenches her fists and breathes in deeply in an effort to not rip the pictures off the wall and shove them in his mouth.

“I love watching you suppress your violent antics,” he whispers in her ear. She hadn’t realized he was so close behind her and she shivers. “But I think I’m even fonder of when you let them happen.”

“I’ll show you violence,” she grumbles, stomping out the front door.

He laughs aloud when he sees his car. With red and blue window paint, she wrote ‘Merica, football, independence, tea sucks, a U with a line through it, and drew a picture of an American flag.

“Just how early did you get up, love?”

“Early enough.”

He makes her listen to British patriotic songs on the way to her brother and his wife’s home but he gets his Karma when David pushes his fully clothed ass in the pool. She feels slightly bad for laughing when he presents her with a swan water float. The feeling doesn’t last very long though because she later overhears him bragging about all of the musical talents to originate in Britain.

“We have Beyonce, you dumbass,” she says before spraying him in the back of the head with a super soaker filled with red Kool-Aid.

The party goes on like that with the two of them bickering back and forth, most people content to just watch the entertainment they provide but David takes Emma’s side and Robin joins Killian in ragging America.

Everything calms once the fireworks begin. David and Mary Margaret’s house has a pretty good view of Boston’s Fourth of July firework show so everyone sits and watches from the backyard.

“How expensive do you think it would be to rent an orchestra to wake you up next year?” she asks, as she sits tucked into his side on a blanket in the grass.

“I don’t know but I’m sure we can budget for it if you promise you’ll be wearing that lovely outfit to wake me up again.”

“I’ll consider it.”

But who is she kidding? Of course, she’ll wear it again.

[errolcandelaria]

2018

          Another year has passed. That’s another three hundred sixty-five and one fourth days, eight thousand six hundred seventy hours, five hundred twenty-five thousand and six hundred minutes, and thirty-one million plus seconds. That was a lot of numbers. I don’t know about you, but this year has been a ride!! I really went out of my comfort zone, I have met amazing people, made more friends, experienced a few firsts, released a pint of tears and at last, made a decision that I think would change my life forever.

          Let me break it down. January was good. I started the year with cough and colds, alone in my room taking videos of myself and the fireworks that can be clearly seen right on my window pane. This was also the month ~ I think~ when I made up my mind that I really want to pursue medicine. This was the month when I fell in love with all the hospital works. That I had envisioned all the times that I’ve been in a hospital, trying to remember the smell of alcohol drenched cotton balls; the hallways, the rush in the emergency room, everything. I never knew I loved those things until last 2016, when I started watching this surgical TV show that I am now obsessed with.

          February was okay. Like the usual, I hated my birthday. It’s eerie that I feel like there really is something in my birthday that I don’t quite feel like it’s worth celebrating for. I am not worthy of their time, money and efforts. There were also lots of questions that roamed my mind. To whether tell my parents about my plans or not; is medicine really for me; will they support me with my decision; and WILL I SURVIVE IF EVER I GOT INTO MEDICAL SCHOOL. There were days that I am adamant about my decision, that I tell myself ~ Of course I can do it!! And there were also weeks where I get discouraged, and the fear of making bad decisions really gripped my body tight.

          March, hmm. I couldn’t quite remember the events that had happened this month. But I am pretty sure this was the month that I went full on crazy about someone in our college. I really want to know that person’s name, but I had to go incognito because everything will be messed up if that person knew.

          April. CSSP NIGHT!!! LIT LIT LIT LIT!!! This was one of the happiest night of my life. Played bingo for the first time, got to see my crush perform on stage for the first time, AND ACTUALLY KNOWING THY NAME!!! Added on facebook, then got accepted the next day. O diba. I don’t remember that much events in this month. I am pretty sure I was still in the phase of constant dilemma about the decision I made for my future.

          May. The semester is almost over!! But say no more, I still had an internship over the summer.

          June. INTERNSHIP WOOOOH!! Lit lit lit rin. Pero hindi capital letters kasi muntik na ko magkaroon ng mental breakdown. Why? Internship. I never had a hardtime naman looking for a company to train to unlike some of my classmates pero the ~pressure? That’s what held me back talaga. I think? Culture shock siguro is the best term to describe what I felt. Ano ba. I was just a normal student tapos I get to be an intern in a huge BPO company tapos I had to talk to potential employees pa. IN PURE ENGLISH!! Syempre na shookt ako. Tapos I got assigned in a station right next to our boss pa!! Imagine the pressure. But she was really nice. She’s funny, approachable and all. Pero still nu, I couldn’t help but get intimidated by her presence. I lost track din on how many times I got scolded for doing the call outs wrong. I got the feeling that my supervisor has this impulse deep down to strangle me with the cord of the telephone I use. But in all, I still got to finish it. I finished it without even noticing I was almost done. Days passed by like hours. Literal. 10 hours a day ba naman ang oras na nababawas sa 240 hours ko eh. But seriously, I didn’t even notice that I was almost done with it. I met amazing people there, I got to talk with real people looking for jobs, interact with people older and far superior than me, which was my greatest fear!! Talk about getting out of your comfort zone huh.

          July. This was the month when I finished my internship. Actually, it wasn’t easy coming back to your old shit. I missed waking up way early to catch the 6:30 am UV so I would arrive at work at exactly 7:45. Separation anxiety? No. I just miss the ambiance. The faces of the people that I get to interact with daily, the cold work room that would chill you right to your bones, and yung pag kain ko ng Richeese every after lunch. WOOH!

          August. Back to bizz. FIRST SEM. 4TH YEAR. I’M OFFICIALLY A GRADUATING STUDENT!!! What’s with the enthusiasm? Boy doesn’t even know what’s about to come at him. If there’s this saying na life throws you lemons, and you would just make lemonades out of it, oh boy. Life threw me pineapples, sea urchins, a school bus and a nuclear bomb. Which I don’t know how to deal with, cause HOW DO YOU EVEN COOK A SEA URCHIN? August was one of the months of this year that made me cry. Not even because of a heartbreak, nor a typical teenager shortcoming, but because of the terrorizing spirit that lies within the subject that is research I. Starting from the day that our professor had assigned us to do an individual research proposal, all of us knew that it will be the beginning of the tormenting last first semester in our college lives.

          September. Wake me up when September ends. Cause there was no relevant thing that I could remember happened this month. Again, I am pretty sure that I was still rehearsing the words that I would tell my parents about my plans after graduation. Still uncertain on what’s gonna come next.

          October. We were assigned to our respective thesis groups. This was also the month that we submitted the first draft of our real thesis proposal. Mind you, we almost got rejected. Title lang tiningnan nung prof naming bes. This was when the inside joke ‘bibili na naming ng condensed milk si prof para di na sya ma-bother sa proposal naming evaporada’. Beh. This was my busiest month this year. Revisions here and there, almost everyday we were in school since we refused to have another overnight cause we accomplish nothing when we are in an air-conditioned room. The impetus of the warm and cozy bed was really inviting and irresistible. So ayun, we were in the school almost everyday.

          November. Thesis proposal defense!!! Holy shit. We had an overnight to rehearse everything we have to say the day before the defense. I was so nervous, but my group mates were just chilling. Literally. Kasi nga ang lamig sa kwarto. I don’t know but I have this thing that I always overcomplicate things. Things that can be handled by a five-year old child I tend to make it seem like the apocalypse is about to happen. I have always had an anxiety in speaking in front of the class, so imagine my nervousness about this one cause I have to present a proposal in front of three intimidating research gods. And then the day of the defense came, WE PASSED!! I couldn’t forget the awkward shriek I did when the assigned panel to our group delivered the good (?) news to us, in his timid, kinda shy low voice. All the stress, the fear, the anxiety I have that day flew away as he uttered the words “Eheh, uhm. Pumasa kayo…. Pero with major revisions”. Boy I didn’t even hear everything the panel said after those words. Buti na lang our mentor recorded everything, cause if not, mangangapa kami and mamatay sa kakaalala kung ano ano yung mga suggestions na binigay nila.

          December. Ahhh. The final month of the year!! Was there something relevant that happened this month? YES!!! LIT LIT LIT LIT ULIT!! Our section had THE most extreme, wildest, and craziest after-defense slash victory party slash walwal party ever!!! What a wonderful way to welcome the last month of twenty seventeen! I also met a new friend, a twitter friend from our college. Haha. Ooh. I also decided to tell my parents about my plans. Imagine my fear, anxiety, fear of rejection, lahat na pota!! Aaaaand. It didn’t go well. They did not approve. But anyway, I still want to prove myself that I got what it takes to be a good physician, so I have decided that even though I am not certain that I will go to med school right after graduation, I would still review for the NMAT and take it this coming March or April. Diba. Because, sabi nga sa bible, for the Lord has plans for all of us. Plans that will prosper us and not to harm us, plans that will give us hope and future. Honestly those are the words that give me hope. That I could still be something I want to be despite the fear, the people that hold me back, and the discouragement I get from my own environment. I can do it naman diba?

          I think the word that encapsulates the events that took place this year is uncertainty. For me at least. It is what I feared the most. Afraid of what will happen next. Maybe it is the utmost reason why I missed a lot of chances to – prove myself, to show off what I got in my jacket pocket, what I can offer, and to improve the things here I am good at. 

I have had a lot of shortcomings this year. The tears that I let out were way fewer than last year, but the tears from this year came from a deeper source. Maybe because I already decided what I want to do until I die, but the people around tell me otherwise. I felt like my dream was invalidated. Trashed. Thrown away. Just because the dream is a 24-karat gold and I only have a couple of gravel and sand. And it cuts even deeper and the wounds won’t heal in an instant.

I’m a fond believer of that famous saying that’s about crossing a bridge when you arrived there, but what if there are even no roads, or pathways or pavements that will lead you to that bridge? You haven’t even reached the bridge yet, but you have already been stopped because the enforcers told you the roads are closed. I could handle everything life throws at me. I made a ridiculous stewed sea urchin, I put the pineapples on my pizza, I defused the nuclear bomb and used it as a decoration in my room, kasi nga I cross the bridge when I get there. I deal with what’s in front of me. Pero how could you deal with something, if along the way, the people around you have already poked a hole in your tires? That even though they believe in you, unconsciously they are telling you that ~no, you won’t do it cause we won’t allow you. It will just fuel your fear kasi you will never know what’s on the other side. You cannot cross the bridge because you won’t even get there. The fear of uncertainty will eat you alive, chew you and spit you out to where you started. And I don’t want to be that person who grieves, and regrets his life decisions after a couple of years because he patterned it out from what the people around him pressured him to do. I want to dictate my future, but there are just inevitable circumstances that make it hard to do so, and it makes me real sad. I thought this year will be different. I had high hopes with it, but it just let me down. They let me down.

But I will still continue striving. This time, I will have enough courage, and bravery to stand up for the choices I make. I will never let any opportunity slip through my hands like water. I will face this year in my warrior suit, equipped with the disappointments, discouragements, fears, heartbreaks, anxieties, regrets, and problems the past year had thrown at me, that I have successfully overcome.

I can already feel that this year will be tiring, productive, troublesome, hard, insane, bountiful, delightful, pleasing, satisfying, wild, I can list a couple more adjectives but in all, I will sum it up with just a word stressful. But hey, being stressed means that you are actually doing something. I expect a lot of disappointments and heartbreaks to come this year, but deep down, a spark of hope still shines. I have the right to be a pessimist, cause hello, 2017??? But it does not mean I will be for the rest of the year.

I’m on my *crossed fingers* final year in college, so that means I will be graduating this year. That alone is one hell of an event to look forward to. Alongside that, my medical journey will also be put on trial this year 🤣. My fate to becoming a medical doctor will be decided hopefully before I graduate from college. But again in crossed fingers, I really hope that whoever is to decide, I want the decision to be in my favor cause not only it will trace my future, it will also reveal how tough, matured, brave and steadfast I have become. These are just two of what I think be the highlights of this year. Here’s to a handful more of new experiences!! Cheers. 🥂

May 2018 be my year.

Seriously. Cause 2018 is Year of the Dog, and I’m a big big huge enormous fan of dogs. so can this year be my year?

[mldrgrl]

If it appeals to you at all, would you consider writing something for the fugitive phase? Like the highs and lows or something along those lines?

Day 1

“What are we going to do?” Scully asked once the rain had stopped.  Mulder had thought she was asleep.  He was barely clinging to consciousness himself, but still clinging to her.

“There’s a contingency plan,” he mumbled against her shoulder.  “The gunmen-”

“The gunmen are dead.”

“I know.  We worked it out before...everything.  I-we have IDs, passports, papers...money to disappear with.”

“We do?”

“There’s a safe deposit in San Francisco.  That’s what we’re going to do.”

Day 4

They agreed to travel and night and to move slowly.  In Mulder’s opinion, anyone looking for them would be calculating the distance they could put between themselves and New Mexico and that’s where they would be looking.  He thought it best to throw them off the trail by being behind them instead of ahead.  Scully didn’t like it, but she trusted him.  He’d been able to hide himself for nine months so she let him take the reins.

The safe deposit box with their new identities was in a bank in Chinatown.  The last time they’d been there, they’d been tracking down an internal organ theft ring.  She was afraid someone might remember and might recognize them, but the locals seem to be less suspicious of them this time around.  Maybe it was the lack of badges and trench coats, but no one gave them a second glance as they weaved their way through the market stalls to the bank.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Scully, though Mulder tried to hide it, that there were three passports in the safe deposit box.  She asked to see them before he emptied the contents into a small backpack, but he shook his head and said ‘not now.’

Later, back at the motel, Mulder gave Scully the bag without a word.  She dumped it all out onto the bed and studied the documentation for Allen Vogle, Tricia Vogle (nee Blackburn) and Michael Vogle.  Passports and IDs for Allen and Tricia went back in the bag.  The passport and birth certificate for Michael (six weeks older on paper) were burned in the bathroom sink.

Day 12

It was surprising how one could become accustomed to something new and unfamiliar so quickly.  Such as the ring on his finger or the color of Scully’s (no, not Scully, Tricia’s) hair.  Even though it had only been a week, playing the married couple on vacation didn’t feel that strange.  Maybe all those years of travel, of Scully being called ‘The Little Missus” at nearly every diner across the bible belt, had just been practice for this.

The only real difference between life before and life now was the single room and the single bed.  Plus the rings and the hair and Mulder’s new and neatly trimmed beard, not to mention their next destination was chosen at random by a blind finger pointed at a map and of course, the constant looking over one’s shoulder.

Otherwise, it was mostly the same.

Day 44

Scully wanted to stop.  Just for a little while.  Just for a few days.  She’d forgotten the names of all the tiny towns they’d stopped in at this point but the 4th of July was coming up and couldn’t they just enjoy the holiday before moving on?  They’d been living sunset to sunrise from the front seat of a car for more than a month and she hadn’t realized how necessary daylight was to feel human until she rarely saw it anymore.

It was easy enough to blend in with the rest of the tourists in New Hope, PA, but it was a mistake to think she could be immune to the smiling, happy children running through the park, waving little flags, shrieking, getting pulled in Radio Flyer wagons, throwing tantrums over popcorn or candy, their faces painted with red hearts or blue stars.

They left well before the fireworks started.  Mulder picked up Chinese for them at a take-out place a few blocks from the motel.  Sounds of celebration - whistling and popping and crackling - started at dusk.  Scully tuned it all out in favor of their gasping sounds of release and the noises of encouragement it took to get them there.

Day 70

“Do you think we should split up?” Scully asked.  Mulder thought someone might be following them, but he wasn’t sure.  He knew he’d seen that maroon Cadillac twice in the past week.  It stood out.  Firstly, because it was maroon of all colors, and secondly, because the left headlight flickered on occasion.

“Split up?” he repeated, eyes bouncing between the road and the rear view mirror.

“To make us harder to follow.”

“I’m not doing this without you.  No way.”

“What are we even doing?”

“I don’t know.  Surviving.  Whatever it is, we’re doing it together.  You and me.”

She nodded and slid closer across the bench seating and took his hand from the wheel.  He laced their fingers together and rested their joined hands in her lap, keeping them there long after the maroon Cadillac had turned off the highway.  They were still holding hands when he shut off the engine in the parking lot of a motel at first light.

“We should trade in the car today,” he said, his voice gravelly in the quiet confines of the car.

She nodded in agreement.  They’d had four cars so far.  He looked down at his lap and then back up at her.

“Do you want to split up?” he asked.

“No.”

Day 147

“What do you want for your birthday?” Scully asked.  She was driving.  The radio had just announced the midnight hour on October 13th.

Mulder snorted softly from the passenger seat.  “How about a vacation?”

“That sounds nice.  Where to?”

“I hear Peoria is lovely this time of year.”

“As luck would have it, we’re only 200 miles away.”

“Well then, happy birthday to me!”

The Beach Boys were singing about little surfer girls and Scully turned the radio off.

“What do you really want, Mulder?  If you can have anything at all.”

“The last two years back,” he said after a few moments.  “What about you?”

“It isn’t my birthday.”

“Yeah, but-”

“I’ve said it before and I’ve said it again, Mulder.  We want the same thing.”

Day 219

They stopped for the winter just after Thanksgiving.  The weather was becoming a problem as was their overall stamina.  It wasn’t easy finding a place that they could hide out in yet still be prepared to leave should the need arise. ��They ended up in Hilton Head Island, South Carolina, a place that was small enough and just touristy enough for them to remain inconspicuous.

Christmas nearly passed them by, but at the last minute, Mulder found a sad little twig of a tree outside a local drug store on Christmas Eve and he couldn’t let it sit there.  He brought it back to the condo they rented and put it on the counter of the wet bar where the canned light shone down on it.  He put the chocolate Santa and tiny souvenir snow globe he got for her under the tree and then called her in from the next room.

“If I’d known we were having a Charlie Brown Christmas, I would’ve gotten you something,” she said.

“It was spontaneous.”  He shrugged.  “And not really anything to sneeze at.”

“I can see that.”  She unwrapped the foil from the chocolate and held it up to his mouth for a bite. 

“These will all be on sale after tomorrow.  We should stock up for the new year.”

She smiled.  “Last year I...”

“What did you do last year?”

“It snowed on Christmas Eve.”  She put the chocolate down and swallowed.  Her eyes grew wet and she blinked a few times.  “I put William in his snowsuit and a little hat and took him outside.  His eyes were so big and wide when the snow hit his cheeks and then he just laughed.  He put his hand out and it was like he somehow got the biggest snowflakes to come to him.”

“I wish I could’ve been there.  I wish that...”

“I know.”  Scully picked up the little snow globe with a surfing Santa inside and gave it a shake.  “But, this is no life for a toddler.”

“Maybe it’s snowing where he is now.”

“I’m sure he’d like that.”  She put the globe down and touched him lightly on the chest as she made her way back to the other room.

Day 375

They’d agreed that waiting a year to settle down somewhere permanently.  There was a house waiting for them in Virginia.  A small, unremarkable piece of property that might as well have been in the middle of nowhere, purchased years ago under an alias and had then sat in wait.

The anniversary of their first year as Allen and Tricia Vogle was spent in Fort Wayne, Indiana, but dates had started to become insignificant little things since the new year.  They counted days more than they acknowledged dates anymore.  Christmas and New Year’s were hard to miss, but things like Valentine’s Day, St. Patrick’s Day, Easter, even your own birthday, were easier to miss if you weren’t paying attention.

They did remember William’s second birthday though.  Really it was Scully who had noticed the date and Mulder put two and two together when she woke him early in the afternoon, well before they usually left a place, and asked him to take her to a church.  He waited in the car so he didn’t know what she did inside - prayed, confessed, lit a candle - but she wasn’t there too long.  They didn’t speak about it, but he knew.  He also knew it was time to head to Virginia.

“i don’t know, Mulder,” she said, getting out of the car and putting her hands on her hips.  “Are you sure you didn’t buy this house because you thought it might be haunted?”

Mulder grinned.  “I did put it on the list of requirements, right up there with gas appliances, ample closet space, and central heat.”

“You’re kidding.”

“It might not look like much from the outside, but it’s a decent place.”

Scully leaned back into Mulder’s chest a little when he put his hands on her shoulders.  She tipped her head back and looked up at him.

“So this is the end of the road?” she asked.

“Hopefully.”

She pushed away from him and went up to the porch, taking a hesitant step up, testing her weight on the wood.  It was more solid than it looked.  Not even a creak of the floorboards as she made her way up the stairs.  Mulder was right behind her, keys in his hand.  Scully cupped her hands against the dirty window in front and peered inside, but she couldn’t see much.  She backtracked over to the edge of the porch and wrapped her arm around the post, looking out at the empty fields surrounding them.

“Coming, Scully?” he asked, holding the door open.

“Right behind you,” she answered.

The End

[hookedonapirate]

Tangled Up In Blue

What's in a name? (Chapter 24/?)

Summary: Fear for her unborn child, a bruised and broken Emma Swan is determined to escape an abusive marriage. After she drives a long way from home to a small town in Maine, she doesn’t think her life could get more complicated… that is until she ends up falling for her OBGYN, a blue-eyed British man who’s shielded his heart from love long ago. But he may be just what she needs to begin her healing process and start a new life for her child. If only nothing gets in the way.

Notes: Sorry this ended up being so long and it's a ton of dialogue, but very much needed. And I'm not familiar with all of the laws in Maine so please don't shoot me if something's not accurate. Also, I find it difficult to avoid cliffhangers with this particular story because I have to switch between Emma's and Killian's POV from chapter to chapter, so please don't shoot me for the ending either. However you can throw virtual objects at me if you'd like, I'll just be off hiding, away from my computer

I owe a huge thanks to @rouhn for her suggestions and constant support. Thanks sweetheart!

*TRIGGER WARNING* Mentions and depictions of physical and verbal abuse/domestic violence

Rated: M

Catch Up: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25

Deleted Scenes: 1 2

Also available on: AO3 FF.N

“The little lad was hungry, love.”

Emma managed a small laugh, watching her son suckle on her nipple to get his breakfast. “Yes, he was.” Although being sent to the OR had put an interruption in a timely breastfeeding after her birth, he had caught on very quickly and didn't need much encouragement to latch onto her.

When she had awoken, feeling woozy from the anesthesia, she had panicked when her son wasn't in her arms, because that was the last thing she remembered before passing out. And then of course, there was the chance of Neal showing up and taking him. The possibility loomed over her like a dark cloud threatening to rain on her happiness. Needless to say she was overwhelmed in a blanket of relief when Killian picked her baby up and brought him to her. Emma's heart was fluttering as she saw her son in Killian's arms for the first time and suddenly all of her energy came in bursts as she reached out for her son, all of her worries melting, feeling the warmth of her baby in her arms.

Mesmerized by the small miracle of life that quietly fed from her, she thought about all of the months she spent worrying and dreading the idea that perhaps she wouldn't be capable of being the best mother she could be to her child. But that was all now behind her now. Maybe it was her natural motherly instincts or maybe it was her protective nature or the eruption of emotions she felt from holding the baby that lived in her womb for nine months, but she felt comfortable knowing that her son would be properly taken care of. In fact she looked forward to spending every moment attending to his every need and every cry, even though it meant months without sleep. She didn't have one doubt that she would be the mother she always wanted as a child.

Smiling and stroking his cheek as he continued eating his breakfast, every now and then making tiny suckling noises, Emma was looking forward to bringing him home, but then it occurred to her that because she was two weeks early, she was not as prepared as she should of been. She peered up at Killian who was standing next to her watching, just as entranced as she was. And he should be used to this as an OB, but her son wasn't just another baby to him, Killian would be apart of his life.

Worry lines were creasing her forehead as she spoke softly, so as not to disturb her newborn while he was feeding. “His crib… we have to get his crib from the loft.”

“Don't worry about that love, it's taken care of,” Killian assured as he leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“It is?”

“Aye, the crib will be there when we get home, you'll see. And David brought Mary Margaret to get your car and the baby seat so you don't have to worry about that either. The only thing you have to think about is the wee lad.”

Emma's features relaxed, sighing in relief as she gave him a small smile.

“Thank you.”

“Of course sweetness.” He flashed her a warm grin that made her heart melt as he caressed her arm.

When her baby was done feeding, Emma covered her breast with the blanket he was laying on and kissed his head and snuggled him against her chest as she felt him breathing softly against her skin.

“So, I take it you're not having second thoughts about this?” Emma asked Killian, glancing up him again.

“With what, love?”

“Letting the two of us stay with you, having an infant waking you up at all hours of the night? I mean, you're a doctor and you need your sleep, so if you'd prefer we stay somewhere else…” Emma paused when she looked up, seeing a frown etched into his features, his eyes growing dark with disappointment.

“Emma…” he breathed out in a shattered whisper. “Do you actually think I would just change my mind? I'm a doctor who specializes in pregnancy, birthing and postpartum…” he paused with a sigh as he took her hand in his. “I know exactly what I signed up for when I made this commitment to you and your son. And being a father someday and raising a family has been a dream of mine ever since Millah and I made a home here in Storybrooke.”

“Well, yes but that dream involved, Milah, not me.”

“Emma… you're right, it did once, but that was washed away the moment I found out that Milah was killed by that drunk driver. Now I have new dreams... dreams that include you and your son, but wanting to raise a family has never changed. Believe me, I want this, even more so after finally meeting this little lad,” he assured with a smile tugging at the comer of his mouth. “I want to be apart of his life. I know it won't be easy with my schedule, but I don't sleep much as a doctor anyway. When I'm not at work I want to spend every moment with you. In fact, I'll be taking some time off of work soon so I can help you out.”

Emma shook her head. When she asked him to be apart of her son's life, she wasn't expecting him to drop everything from his own life. She wanted to be with him even after she had the baby, and her son being apart of his life would be something they wouldn't be able to avoid, even if they weren't living together. She didn't want to disrupt his career though. “Killian, I can't ask you to do that.”

“You didn't, I want to. I always take a few weeks off around Christmas anyways, to visit my parents.”

“Well, you should go visit them, then. I don't want to keep you here.”

Killian shook his head. “Not with Neal out there trying to take you and your baby away. And I won't ask you to come with me, I don't want to put that kind of pressure on you, especially so soon after having the baby. Postpartum is an especially difficult time for a mother, even those not in a situation like yours, and I want to be here to provide you with everything you need for you and your son and I want to help in any way I can… but only if you want me too. The choice is always yours, love, don't ever forget that. I would never, ever force you to do anything you were uncomfortable with,” he spoke adamantly, his voice cracked and his eyes full of emotion.

Emma swallowed harshly, considering his proposal. “Killian… are you sure about this? I mean won't your parents want you to come home?”

“I already told them I wouldn't be visiting until after New Years. They're fine with it. If I have to take some extra time off then I will. My family always comes first.”

“But you're putting me before your family,” she reminded him.

Killian smiled weakly, lifting her hand to his lips and placing a soft kiss to her knuckles. “You and your son are my family too, love.”

Emma smiled back at him, her heart fluttering. She had to admit she liked the sound of that. “Would you like to hold him?”

Killian's face lit up like fireworks on the Fourth of July, his smile broadening and his eyes glittering with excitement. “Are you sure? I don't want to take away your bonding time-”

Emma let out a feeble laugh. “We’ll have plenty of bonding time. We’re starting to grow on each other already.” She lifted him up, pressing a few delicate kisses on his cheek. “Baby, this is Killian. You're going to be spending a lot of time with him.” Emma gave one more kiss before transferring him into Killian's arms along with the blanket and she replaced the gown over her chest. She watched as Killian scooped him up and cradled him gently, gazing down at him.

“Hi there little lad. We've met before, but you should get used to having me around,” he said with a chuckle. Emma's son reached his tiny hands out to him and Killian offered his finger, letting the infant curl his hand around it.

“I think he likes you already,” Emma laughed, never peeling her eyes away from her two boys. She could certainly get used to the sight before her.

“Well, I'm easily likeable, love,” he said playfully, throwing her a wink. “The lad and I are already getting along splendidly.”

“Correction, you're easily loveable,” she countered with a laugh, watching him blush as he gazed up at her.

He didn't argue as he cradled her baby, speaking to him in a playful tone. “You are one lucky little lad to have a mum like her,” he whispered and the newborn let out a gurgle. It was as though they were exchanging secrets. “Be prepared to be spoiled with hugs and kisses all the time.” 

Emma chortled as her son was nestled in her arms again with Killian sitting next to her on the edge of the bed with his arms around the two of them.

Eventually, they heard a knock on the door and Killian quickly tore himself away and stood up before the person entered and they realized it was Ruby.

“Hey…” She cooed, poking her head through the crack of the door. “Is it alright if I come in?”

“Yeah, of course,” Emma replied as Killian reclaimed his seat, not worried about Ruby seeing them together.

“How are you feeling?” Ruby asked, walking in and making her way to the other side of the bed.

“I'm fine. The baby had his first meal and I'm just enjoying cuddle time with him,” Emma responded with a smile as she peered down at him, stroking his cheek.

“I'm glad. You had Killian worried. He was pretty torn up.”

“He told me.” Emma looked up at Killian, offering a weak smile in agreement as he took her hand, caressing her skin with his thumb.

“So, I guess Rose found out huh?” Ruby asked curiously as she smiled at the baby and delicately grabbed his little hand.

“Aye. She didn't take it so well, as expected. She slapped me… but I deserved it.”

Ruby glanced up at Killian, her eyes widening in shock and amusement. “She smacked you?! Oh my god, I wish I would have been there to see it,” Ruby admitted a little too enthusiastically.

“Thanks, Ruby. Such a good friend you are,” Killian muttered, flashing a sarcastic smile.

Emma gently squeezed her boyfriend’s hand, reverting her attention to Ruby. “Have you talked to Mary Margaret?”

“Not since I brought the baby to your room. Would you like me to get her and the two charming princes?” Ruby laughed, shaking her head.

“What?” Emma asked, her face contorting in confusion as to why the brunette was so amused by the Nolan twins.

“Nothing, it's just that… if I had a husband who were a twin and looked like those two, I wouldn't be able to choose just one. I mean you've got sweet, gentle and innocent Nolan but then the other one offsets him; he's bad and roguish and sexy. I'd have one on each side.” Emma rolled her eyes. Why was she not surprised? Ruby leaned in speaking quietly, “or better yet, one in the front and one in the back.”

“Ruby!” Emma called out quietly, appalled at her friend.

“Alright, I think that's enough out of you,” Killian chastised, both of them frowning at the image Ruby implanted in their heads.

“Okay, sorry, just saying…” Ruby said pulling away. “Hey, why don't I just send the Nolans a picture and text them to come up?”

“Yeah, okay,” Emma nodded and tilted her head towards Killian. “Will you be in the picture with me?”

“Of course.” Killian kissed Emma's lips, wrapping his arms around her and the baby as Ruby took out her phone. They both looked at the camera and smiled as Ruby took it.

“Awe, you three look like a cute little family,” Ruby chirped with a beaming smile, snapping their picture.

Emma and Killian's postures and features relaxed when Ruby lowered her phone and handed it over for them to see.

“Could you send that to my phone? I want to put that in the photo album my amazing boyfriend gave me,” Emma boasted before lifting her head to kiss his cheek.

Killian blushed, a wide grin spreading across his lips. “Anything for my amazing girlfriend and her son,” he murmured as he nodded at Ruby. “Could you send it to mine as well so I can show Liam and Cordelia?”

“Yeah, of course.” Ruby took the phone back and started typing something on the keypad. “Photo sent and also forwarded to Mary Margaret, letting her know they can come up.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem. Do you need anything else?”

“I don't believe so, I think we’re good,” Emma informed her. “Thanks Ruby.”

“No problem.”

Ruby left and a few minutes later, the Nolans walked in. Mary Margaret and David were sighing in relief, but James looked completely wrecked, she could see it in his eyes.

“I'll let you visit with them, love. I'm going to call Liam to update him. I'll be back later to check on you.”

“Okay.”

Killian kissed her lips and then the top of the baby’s head, saying goodbye to the Nolans before leaving the room.

“You had us worried. We’re so glad you're okay,” Mary Margaret said, walking over and leaning in to hug her.

“Agreed. We were practically squealing when we saw the photo.” David said as he approached his wife's side, taking his turn to draw Emma into a hug, cradling the back of her head and dropping a kiss to the top of it.

“Do you want to hold the baby? Will that make up for the scare?” Emma asked Mary Margaret playfully as David pulled away.

The brunette almost bounced in excitement. “Yeah, maybe a little,” she laughed and Emma transferred her son to her friend.

“I knew she would be okay. She's tough like that,” James said playfully, drawing her attention to the other side of the bed where he stood, his hands in his pockets. “Hey… ”

“What? I don't get a hug from you?” she teased with a smile.

James shrugged nonchalantly. “You know me, I always get the last hug.”

She laughed as she stretched her arms out. “Come here.” He was still expressionless and she could tell he was trying to hide his emotions. Finally he leaned in, enveloping her in a warm hug, one arm around her shoulder and the other around her side. She felt him sigh deeply as he burrowed his face in her neck.

“I'm so glad you're okay,” he whispered against her skin, and she didn't realize until that moment just how much he cared for her or how torn up he was knowing that something might've happened to her. He tightened the hold and she closed her eyes, relaxing into him. She loved Mary Margaret and David dearly, they helped her out when she had nowhere to go, they easily gave her a job and gave her a place to live. They were like the parents she never had. James was different though, she had a different bond with him, more like a brother or best friend. Nevertheless, the Nolans all resembled everything she thought she would never have.

“Careful, you're going to squeeze everything out of me if you hug me any tighter,” she managed with a strangled laugh.

He chuckled against her before pulling away. “Sorry.”

“It's okay.”

“How are you feeling?’

“I'm fine, just can't wait to go home.”

The Nolans visited for a while, and Mary Margaret filled her in on things going on at work as David held the baby, making silly faces and making him cry.

James found that quite amusing. “Look at that, he doesn't like you.”

David frowned at his brother. “Well why don't you hold him, I bet he'll cry even more.”

James smirked and accepted the challenge, walking around the bed to carefully scoop up the baby in his arms. “Hey there little duckling, is Uncle David being a goofball?* he asked in a soothing voice, gently swaying him. The newborn’s cries softened and he smiled up at James.

“Huh? Look at that, I made him stop crying. He likes me better,” James gloated with a successful grin.

“He's just glad you didn't hug his mother to death,” David taunted, earning a sarcastic smirk from his brother.

“So, any sign of Neal?” James asked, changing the subject.

Emma shook her head. “Nope.”

“I'm surprised that he hasn't turned up yet.”

“Oh, I'm sure he will. He knows that the baby is his. There's no way he would let that go.”

“Have you talked to Regina about your options?” Mary Margaret asked curiously.

“No, I haven't.”

“Well, it's a good thing I'm here, then.” The four of them were startled as they averted their attention to the door.

“Regina… hi. Come in,” Emma called to her.

“Are you sure? I don't want to interrupt.”

“Yeah, it's fine,” Emma encouraged. “You don't mind, do you?” she asked the Nolans.

“No, of course not, Mary Margaret replied. “I'm fact, I think David and I might take off for a while unless there's anything else you need.”

“No, I'm good. You two go and get some sleep. Thank you so much for staying.”

“No need, Emma. We love you like family, we already told you,” David assured and they both gave her one more hug before leaving.

“I guess I should get going as well,” James said as he peered down at the bundle in his arms. “Bye little duckling.” He kissed the baby's forehead before transferring him back to his mom. “Bye, Em,” James murmured, affectionately cupping her cheek and pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. Emma was surprised by the gesture, but he was pulling away and leaving the room before she could process it.

Regina eyes glanced from the door he just walked out of to Emma, flashing a curious expression as she approached her side. “I knew you were close with Mary Margaret and David but I didn't realize you were so chummy with the other Nolan brother.”

“Yeah, he's a good friend of mine,” Emma affirmed. “How are you?”

“Not great… actually I'm horrible but thanks for asking,” Regina replied but at the same time she was smiling and gazing at Emma's son with googly eyes. “What's his name?”

“I haven't picked one yet. You know, when I came to this town, I had no one I'd consider naming my son after but now I have so many people in my life. I was thinking of maybe James or David but I don't want to make the other feel bad or be jealous. Besides, despite the blonde hair I don't know if he looks like a David or a James.”

“Hmmm, I see.”

“So, why don't you tell me what's going on,” Emma said, patting a spot beside her. Regina took it, sitting down as she released a long, heavy sigh.

“Well where should I start?”

“Why don't you start with why you’re at the hospital? I know you didn't come here to visit me.”

“You would be right, Miss Swan. Actually my father had a heart attack.”

“Oh my god… is Henry okay?” Emma asked, her words laced with concern.

“He had bypass surgery but it was successful thankfully, and the doctor says he should be back on his feet in a few weeks.”

“That's good at least, right?”

“Yes, but he's so stubborn. I keep telling him to eat better but he won't listen and because of that I almost lost the only person I have left.”

Emma flashed her a sympathetic smile. “I'm sorry.”

The brunette let out another sigh, glancing over at Emma with a depleted expression. “Can I tell you something in confidence, Miss Swan?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“I've… done something terrible… and now I think this is God's way of punishing me.”

“Oh… I'm sure it's not that bad,” Emma offered, although she had a feeling she knew what the lawyer was about to tell her.

“I had an affair with a married man. Still sure it's not so bad?”

“Well technically I'm committing adultery so I think I have you beat.”

Regina eyed her in surprise. “You're seeing someone?”

“Yeah.”

The brunette's features transformed, her eyes full of intrigue. “Well, tell me.”

Emma chewed on her lip. “I can't. If people found out, it could possibly get him in trouble and he could lose his job.”

“Well, if people found out about who I had an affair with, I could lose my job. He's my client… or he was.”

“It’s Robin, isn't it?”

“How did you know?”

“I saw him walking out of your office, wiping lipstick off of his mouth and then I saw him at my baby shower and you were throwing fire daggers with your eyes, aiming at his wife.”

“Yes, well not anymore. When he first came to me as a client, he wanted a divorce. He said he was unhappy and didn't feel the same connection with her like he did when they first met. He said he felt trapped in a loveless marriage to someone he barely recognized anymore and he felt like she was his roommate rather than his wife. So, I took him on as a client and we discussed the process and what steps to take. And things were professional... until they weren't. We both felt a spark and we both knew he wanted to leave his wife, so we decided to ignore everything that was wrong with being together. And Emma, I was happy. I was smiling, I felt like a young schoolgirl, being with him was like a fairytale.”

“And then he found out Marion got pregnant?”

“Yeah… and then he started having second thoughts about the divorce and he said we should end it and we would break up, but then we would always end up going down the same path again. I kept telling him that having a baby is not going to repair a marriage, but he insisted he had to stay because of his son. He didn't want to break his family apart. After Marion had the baby, we hadn't seen each other for a couple of weeks, and then when you seen him coming from my office, we had gotten back together again.”

“And now?”

“Now it's completely over between us. I ended it after your baby shower. I couldn't stand seeing him with her, so I told him I couldn't do it anymore.”

“I'm sorry to hear, Regina. But you know what? You will find someone when you least expect it. When I came to Storybrooke, the last thing I cared about was finding someone else, I never imagined I would trust another man in my life, but once you open up your heart to the possibility anything can happen. Now, I'm living with this man and we’re raising the baby together.”

“So you're still not going to tell me who he is?

“I just… I can't. I appreciate you confiding in me what you did, but I'm sorry I just can't… not when it's his career on the line.”

“It's okay, I understand. Just please tell me those bruises aren't from him,” Regina, said, notices the marks on her arm.

“Oh no, these are from Neal.”

The brunette's eyes grew wide. “Your husband found you?”

“Yeah. He's been here in town and attacked me last night outside of Storybrooke. And I just don't know how to keep him away from my son. I don't want to include Neal on the birth certificate. Can I do that?”

“Well, unfortunately in the state of Maine your husband is assumed as your son’s legal parent and has all of the rights and responsibilities that come with it even if he's not actually the biological father.”

“Oh, I didn't know that.”

“It's true, but there are ways around it. Typically when the husband is not the biological father, the parents can choose to sign an AOP in the presence of a government official. By signing the AOP, the parents are agreeing that the father is the biological and legal father of the baby and that the father may have to pay child support, medical support, and costs associated with the child’s birth. Once you’ve decided on your son’s last name, it will be placed on a birth certificate and can’t be changed without a court order.”

“But Neal is the biological father, so, what are you saying, that I should lie and have my boyfriend named as the father?”

"I'm saying that no one has to know Neal's the biological father and you and your boyfriend should sign the AOP to protect your baby and establish parental rights. No one will question it because it's a sworn statement, only if Neal decides to sue you for custody. But my guess is he won't do that because that would mean he’d have to take you to court and it's going to open up the door to all of the things he's done to you, proving that he is unfit to be a father. He won't stand a chance in court and if I'm your lawyer I will make sure that man will never be allowed to see that child or be within a hundred miles of him or you.”

“But what if he uses infidelity against me? I physically left and filed a complaint but we’re not legally separated.”

“Infidelity has nothing to do with your capability to raise a child. Yes, it's frowned upon and doesn't do well for a marriage but it doesn't dictate whether or not you will be able to maintain your parental rights. You left the marriage to protect the wellbeing and safety of the child, so you have nothing to be ashamed of, Miss Swan.”

“I know but I'm just so afraid he's going use everything he can against me,” Emma admitted, feeling a bit panicked at the topic.

Regina took Emma's hand in her own in an attempt to calm her, flashing an encouraging smile. “Well, you know what? That just means we’ll throw ten times as much force back at him. There's a reason why people call me the Evil Queen and I didn't earn the moniker by letting people walk all over my clients. It's because I play hard and I play dirty. I fight for my clients and I do whatever it takes to make sure they win their case.”

Emma eyed her in surprise, trying to bite back a laugh. “So you know about your nickname, huh?”

“Of course I do. It's a small town. It's hard to keep secrets here.”

“Yeah, especially when you have a vengeful husband and you're dating someone else who's reputation and career you have to keep in tact.”

“You know what you should do Miss Swan?”

“Run away and never come back? I've tried that before and it didn't work.”

“No, you should name the child after your boyfriend, that would really piss Neal off,” Regina suggested playfully with a laugh, releasing Emma's hand as she stood up.

“Yeah, that's all I need, is to have him more pissed off than he already is.”

“Well, you know, anger makes us do crazy things we wouldn't normally do. Neal gets angry enough and he won't be so careful about hiding his appearance anymore. He'll become careless and reckless, letting his anger fuel his actions. Which can be very dangerous, but I think that maybe some irrational actions need to be taken to get this guy out in the open. And once he is, he has no protection. Everyone is on your side, Emma don't forget that.”

“Thanks, Regina.”

“I know that my methods can be a little unorthodox but I've encountered many men like your husband, and sometimes it takes some desperate measures to get to the ideal outcome. Your particular case is rather tricky but there's always a solution. The question is how far are you going to go to make sure this guy ends up where he belongs?”

“At this point I'm willing to do whatever it takes,” Emma replied adamantly. Just then she heard a knock on the door. “Come in.”

“Well, I wish the best of luck to you and if you ever need anything don't hesitate to call me.”

“Okay, thanks Regina.”

“Hi Emma. How are you u feeling?” Dr. Tink asked as she entered and Regina left.

“I'm fine, thanks to you.”

“I was only doing my job, Emma,” the other blonde stated as she approached.

Emma chewed on her bottom lip, summoning the courage to apologize to the doctor. “Look, I wanted to apologize for lying to you. I only did it to protect Killian.”

“I know you did and I know that he was trying to do right thing by not dating one of his patients. Believe me I understand.”

“You do?”

Dr. Tink sighed as she sat on the stool beside her, in front of the monitor. “Yeah, I mean I've never dated a patient before but I know what it's like for people to get the wrong idea about one thing and then blow it way out of proportion. Killian's not a bad guy; I know that, you know that, everyone knows that, but somehow one little rumor that sheds bad light on him could cause people to question his morals and capabilities of doing his job. It happens all the time in our profession. No one seems to notice when you do everything by the book, only the one time you don't.”

Emma nodded, considering her words. “But still, we should've came to you and told you the truth. Killian didn't want to hurt you and I didn't want you to hate me for-”

“For what? Stealing the man who was never mine in the first place. Emma, I wouldn't have hated you. Yeah, it would've been hard to digest - it still is - but I knew that Killian was never interested in me as more than a friend. He and I would've never worked anyway. We’re in the same profession. I mean can you imagine the dinner conversations?” she asked with a laugh. “No, we’re too much alike and we both need someone to balance us out. You're good for him. You make him happy and his eyes light up when he looks at you. I've always wanted a guy to look at me that way, but thanks to you I have one. I mean, James is nothing like Killian, but maybe that's what I like about him. The bad boys turned good are really the best because they still have that roguish side that's very appealing. And he really tries to be a gentleman, but every once in awhile he slips and says what he really think,” Rosabell explained with a blushing smile, biting her bottom lip in thought.

“So I take it things are going really well between you two?” 

“Yeah they are. He hasn't said anything to you?”

“He has, but lately I haven't talked to him as much because he's been preoccupied with other things.”

“Sorry, that's probably my fault. But hey, you take my man and I take yours,” she teased playfully.

Emma tittered, feeling her cheeks warm up with blush. “I guess I deserve that. But again, I'm really sorry for everything.”

“It's okay, Emma. I know that you're just trying to do what's best for you and your son after what you've been through. And if you are able to move on from that, then I commend you for it.”

“Thank you.” Emma hadn't divulged a whole lot to the doctor, but she explained that she had left an abusive marriage, feeling comfortable enough to talk about that with her.

After the doctor left, Emma had a few more visitors stop by to see her and the baby, bringing vases and potted plants with colorful flowers that brightened up the room a bit.

Killian eventually came back to see if she needed anything and he went to get her some food as Emma was cradling her baby in her arms, thinking about her conversations with everyone.

After much contemplation and spending most of her time gazing down at her baby, deciding what she would call him when she were to praise him for using the potty for the first time, or scold him for using crayons on the walls, or to just let him know how much she loved him, she finally decided on a name.

Emma smiled and took his tiny hand in hers, raising it to her lips, pressing a kiss there. His crystal blue eyes stared back at her and he looked so happy and content, her heart was fluttering.

She murmured the name, letting the word roll off of her tongue and he responded by flashing her a big smile. Emma laughed, and with tears threatening her eyes, she managed to speak in a strangled tone, her mind set on the most perfect name for the most perfect son.

“Ian…” she repeated. “Yes, I think that name suits you. Ian it is.”

Emma observed her son, still completely enchanted as she heard the door open. She looked up and very briefly got a glimpse of Killian's blue scrubs, the back of them facing her as he shut the door.

“Hey, babe, I picked out a name for our son,” Emma chanted exuberantly, her eyes back on Ian. She heard footsteps that made their way around the bed. “And I think he likes it, don't you?” she asked her son in a playful high-pitched voice, lifting him and pressing delicate kisses to his cheek and making smoochy sounds. “Mommy wuvs her wittle duckling.”

“You mean our wittle duckling, love?”

Emma let out a gasp, her skin crawling from the sound of the voice that left goosebumps over her skin. With a dreadful knot in the pit of her stomach, she quickly reached for the emergency call button to page the nurse, but her hand was grabbed and pressed into the mattress as her head was being slammed forcefully into the pillow, a hand clasping over her mouth.

Neal leaned in, whispering in her ear and making her skin crawl. “You make a scene and don't go along with everything I say, I will tell everyone that the prestigious doctor Jones molested and raped you while under his care and how he blackmailed and threatened you so you wouldn't tell anyone, you got it?”

Emma's eyes widened, tears clouding up her vision as she held her baby tightly to her chest with her free arm, hearing him starting to cry. Neal still had his hand on her mouth as she managed a small nod along with a muffled whimper.

“Good girl. Now I want you to get up and get dressed. We’re leaving.”

He removed his hand and she started to sit up as Neal started to remove his scrubs, revealing his street clothes. Emma prayed that Killian wouldn't walk in and she swallowed dryly, her son clinging onto her as he cried into her chest. No one would believe that Killian would do something like that, but still, she didn't want to take that chance.

Neal hid the scrubs in the bathroom, but Emma could barely move, her body was shaking. “Move faster, Emma,” he demanded impatiently as he came over and grabbed her arm. “Hand over my son so you can get dressed.”

“No.” she replied quickly, holding him possessively. Neal would have to remove her cold dead hands before she released her son to him.

Neal sighed. “We don't time for this shit.” He marched over to the cubbies to grab her bag, pulling out her clothes.

Emma was glued to her seat on the bed as Ian's cries grew louder.

“Would you tell him to shut the fuck up?” Neal called out as he threw her clothes on the bed.

“Shhhh…. shhh… it'll be okay, baby.” she whispered softly, stroking her baby's head. “Mommy won't let anything happen to you. I promise.”

“Didn't I tell you to get dressed?” Neal asked angrily and he started making his way over to her when the door opened.

Her heart was pounding as she turned and saw the nurse emerge from the door. “Emma, is everything okay? I heard the baby crying and he didn't stop so I wanted to make sure you were awake.” The nurse's eyes darted from Emma to Neal suspiciously.

“Yeah, we’re fine.”

“I'm her husband. I came to take my wife and son home,” Neal said kindly to the Nurse, flashing her a smile.

The nurse shook her head. “I'm sorry, we can't release Miss Swan without doctor's orders.”

“Well then, I would to like see the doctor. I'm taking my wife and son home,” he demanded in a mildly threatening tone.

Emma saw the nurse’s eyes wander back over to her and she could see the uncertainty in her eyes. “Miss Swan, would you like me to page Doctor Tink?”

Emma nodded slowly, her eyes trying tell the nurse what she could not speak. “Yes, please. We would like to leave.”

“Very well.” The nurse left and Emma trembled as Neal approached her again. “Come on Emma, lets go. Let me take our son so you can get dressed.”

Emma didn't move. “How did you find me?”

Neal started to get more angry as he sharply grabbed her arm, speaking in a menacing tone that shot down her spine, making her shiver. “Listen here… I told you if you don't cooperate your precious doctor will not only lose his license but he goes behind bars, do you understand?”

“Yes. Perfectly,” she answered compliantly. “I'll get dressed. Could you hand me my clothes please? I'm just feeling rather weak from my delivery,” she said, doing her best not to let her voice shake. Apparently she had succeeded, because he released her and turned around to gather her clothes. She looked around the room, spotting the potted plants and vases, contemplating hitting him with one, but if her plan didn't work, he would spread those nasty rumors about Killian. Before she could think about it any longer, the door opened and Graham entered the room in his Deputy uniform. Emma breathed a sigh of relief.

“Emma are you alright? One of the nurses lodged a complaint-” the sentence was cut off when he saw Neal and glanced at Emma as she silently let him know with her eyes that she and her baby were in danger.

“Emma is this man bothering you?” he asked her.

She looked between Graham and Neal, but didn't respond.

“Emma, tell them I'm your husband and you and the baby are coming home with me,” Neal demanded, but Emma could see his eyes filling with fear, his face turning white as he realized his plan was crumbling apart.

“Miss Swan, are you in need of assistance?” Graham questioned her, concern and worry in his tone.

She swallowed and lightly bounced her baby, calming him a bit. She didn't say anything but she gave Graham a slight nod.

Graham instantly took her hint and looked over at Neal. “Sir, did you attack Emma last night and put those bruises on her arms?”

“No, of course not!” He spat. “This is all a big misunderstanding. My wife disappeared and I managed to find her so I can take her and our son home.”

“Sorry, but that's not going to happen,” Graham stated firmly. “I’m going to need you to come with me.” He went behind Neal and gathered his hands, putting handcuffs on him and reading him his rights.

“Emma, tell them I'm your husband!” he yelled, squirming against the deputy.

“Yes, he is my husband,” Emma confirmed, knowing very well that Graham was aware of exactly who attacked her and at the same time she was able to go along with what Neal said. “Wait, before you take him…” She pleaded to Graham, before they left the room. Her eyes were full of fiery as she stepped closer to Neal. “How did you find me?” she demanded coldly.

“Emma, what's going on?” Her eyes darted towards the door at the sound of James’ voice.

Neal laughed deviously, struggling against the handcuffs. “Why don't you ask your friend there. He can tell you all about it.”

Her eyes grew wide in bewilderment as she stared at James questionably. “James? What's he talking about?”

His features fell in confusion. “Emma, I swear I have no idea...”

Neal chuckled again. “Oh come on James, why don't you tell Emma all about how you called me up when I was in Tallahassee and how you offered Emma's whereabouts for a price. Emma, I paid him a thousand dollars so he would tell me where you were at. He sent me pictures to prove where you were and he's been my spy ever since. How do you think I found out you were at the restaurant last night?”

“He's lying… Emma, you have to believe me,” James pleaded adamantly. “He's making it up. I would never do that to you.”

Emma froze as she studied James’ reaction. She wanted to believe him, but she was afraid their friendship had compromised his ability to show the awful truth.

“Is this true? Did he pay you to disclose Miss Swan’s whereabouts?” Graham questioned James.

“Of course not,” he replied without hesitation. “Emma, look at me. You can see that I'm telling the truth.”

“Miss Swan, would you like Mr. Nolan escorted from the hospital?”

Emma looked into James’ eyes, but their friendship may have clouded her judgement. When she was with Neal she was able to see him for who he was and who he became, but her love for him made her blind and she chose to look past it.

She shook her head. “No, that's okay.”

Graham took Neal away in handcuffs and she felt a sense of relief, despite the man in front of her who claimed to be her friend. “Does that mean you believe me?”

“I want to but… just because you wish something weren't true it doesn't mean it's not.”

“Come on, Em. Who are you going to believe? Neal or me?” He asked, trying to approach her. “You know me…” he murmured with a fragile smile, but she stepped back. His features instantly fell, and she could tell he was offended and hurt.

“I'm sorry, James, but I don't know if I do.”

“Emma…” he pleaded. “Please… this is all Gold's doing and Neal's trying to protect him. You were right. Killian and I saw for ourselves that they're in cahoots.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We broke into Gold's shop the other night to see if you were right. And when we didn't find anything, Killian and I followed him and saw him arrive at a farmhouse on thirty-fourth avenue. We saw the yellow bug hidden in the garage.”

Her eyes widened with anger. “Wait, you found Neal and you didn't bother to tell me?!” Emma shouted, her anger bubbling up to the surface as she shielded her son’s ears with her hand.

“Emma, we were going to, but we didn't want to worry you. I told Killian I would spy on Neal and find out his whereabouts. We didn't want to get the police involved because then Neal would just find somewhere else to hide.”

“But you and Killian didn't tell me!”

“Emma… he wanted to but I told him not to. I didn't want your evening with him to be spoiled. I wanted you to have a nice time and to not worry. We both did.”

“And what, you were conveniently working when Neal followed Killian and I to the restaurant an hour away from Storybrooke?!”

“You can ask anyone working at the B&B last night. I was working.”

“But you knew Killian and I would be there?!”

“Emma, I didn't tell Neal where you were… please, you have to believe me.”

“I trusted you! And I begged Killian to trust you even though he didn't want to at first.”

“And I never betrayed your trust, I swear.”

Emma looked down at the floor, unsure of what to believe. Even if he didn't tell Neal where she was, he still hid things from her and it was all too suspicious. “Please, I need you to leave,” she demanded quietly, soothing her baby by caressing his back.

“Emma, please…”

“I said leave,” she repeated rigidly.

James let out an exasperated sigh and gave a nod in defeat. “Fine,” he murmured before turning around to leave, but then stopping to look back at her one last time. “I wish you knew that I would never do anything to hurt you in any way, Emma.” With that said, he left the room and Emma immediately felt pangs of guilt and regret, but she needed some space. She needed to digest everything.

She should be relieved that Neal was arrested but why did she have this bad feeling that this was not even close to the end of it? And she couldn't believe that Killian didn't mention that he broke into Gold's shop. She'd have to confront him when he came back.

Emma looked at the clock on the wall, sighing in frustration and anger, but then it occurred to her how long Killian had actually been gone. He should've been back by now. What was taking him so long?

Trying not to panic, she acknowledged her full bladder as she laid her son down in his crib. “Be right back, Ian,” she told him in a soothing voiice. Her legs were wobbly and weak but she slowly and carefully made her way into the bathroom, deciding she made the right choice by naming her baby Ian. She was still mad at Killian for not telling her he helped break into Gold’s shop and they he and James followed him, but it didn't change her decision about letting him be apart of her son's life. It was her fault after all and she was the one who pressured him into trusting James.

Before Emma turned on the light, she stepped on the blue scrubs that were on the floor. She groaned and cursed under her breath as she carefully bent down to pick them up. She was in too much pain and didn't have the energy for this. She managed to gather them in her arms and as she brought them to her room, she noticed they smelled very familiar to her. Emma lifted them to her nose, sniffing out the familiar spicy cologne. And it wasn't Neal's. No, this was a very pleasing smell. The same scent that made her skin tingle.

Emma eyed the pair of scrubs questioningly, scrunching them in her hands when she felt something solid in the pocket and pulled it out. Her eyes darkened, fear rippling through her body as the air escape her lungs. Gaping at the ID badge in her hand, she traced the letters and familiar photo with her thumb, a million thoughts racing through her mind. She swallowed the large lump in her throat, her heart dropping in her chest as she focused on the sea-blue eyes under her uneasy gaze. The same blue eyes that were owned by the man she loved. And that man she named her son after.

“Killian….”

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[speckledspout]

We Took the Wrong Step Years Ago

square filled: impala sex ship: wincest rating: explicit ao3 link tags: sex on the impala, past weecest summary: it’s the fourth of july and it’s the only holiday that matters to dean. he’ll pack up the impala, make sure that his brother is beside him and drive to that field that no one but him and sam knows about. word count: 2.8k+ a/n: this was supposed to be a short little drabble for the fourth and yet this happened. i don’t understand. written/created for @spnkinkbingo

It wasn’t unusual for Dean to tell Sam to pack a bag for a couple of nights, that they were going to hit the road, see what the world had to offer. Usually it would be after days of being cooped up in the Bunker, with no cases to chase and it felt like Dean was crawling out of his skin. A side effect of growing up on the road, always in constant movement.

It also wasn’t unusual for when the fourth of July would roll around, that they would pile into the Impala and drive to some state somewhere and watch whatever firework show that the taxpayers paid for.

Sam never really knew where his brother would end up going. When he would ask, Dean would just look across the cab with that smile on his face and he wouldn’t say. He would just turn back to the road, turn up the music and press his foot against the gas just a little harder so that they were zipping along the darkened highway.

They had been on the road for hours and the sound of the wheels rolling over the asphalt and the soft, classic rock knocked him right out. Dean glanced across the cab, watching Sam with a fond little smile. He looked so young like this. Relaxed and sleeping with his head resting up against the glass. Dean made sure to avoid any potholes in the road.

It was close to ten by the time that the Impala rolled to a stop and Sam grunted as he woke up.

“Ah, sleeping beauty lives.” Dean joked, looking at Sam as he wiped a hand across his mouth and ran his fingers through his hair. He laughed at the bitch face that Sam shot his way.

“Shut up.” Sam groaned as he sat up fully, looking outside the window. They were parked in a field, nothing to be seen for miles. He turned back to face Dean who was still smiling. “Where are we?”

“Don’t you recognize this place?”

Sam looked back out the window, at the grass that was waving slightly in the breeze. Off in the distance, there were trees that lined the field. The moon reflected into the cab of the Impala. He didn’t recognize the place, not really but Dean was still smiling, still looking at him with that look in his eye. Sam looked out at the field again, taking in the trees that looked untouched. He looked at them harder, seeing that around the base of the trees were slightly darker than the upper parts of them and he thought that it was the shadows casting shapes on the trees.

But they all looked too uninformed, the dark markings. The harder he looked, the more that he noticed that they weren’t shadows at all. In fact, they looked like char marks like… like from a fire that was set… about twenty years ago.

He turned back to Dean, his eyes wide with realization and Dean’s small smile broke out into a full fledged one. One that seemed to de-age him years, strip him of everything that they had gone through and put him back in that body that he was in when Dean first took him here.

“You’re kidding.” Sam whispered, speaking so low like he was scared that if he spoke any higher then this place would just disappear. “How do you even remember this place?”

Dean scoffed at that. “Like I could ever forget this place.”

Like he could forget the way that the light rain stuck to Sam, to his hair, his eyelashes. The way that Sam looked so completely happy, so carefree with his hands in the air as the blue and red and white sparks fell down around him. For as long as he would live, he wouldn’t forget the way that Sam had wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck and kissed him with every ounce of fear and uncertainty that he was feeling.

And he wouldn’t forget the way that the dead grass had caught on fire, setting the field aflame and the way that they ran back to the Impala, stomach aching with laughter as Dean drove away as fast as he could.

“I didn’t even think that this place still existed. Thought that we burned it down.” Sam said, getting out of the car and closing the door behind him.

“Well, we did burn it down. And remember how angry Dad got when he found out that it was us that burnt it down?” Dean asked, settling down on the hood of the Impala. Sam sat down next to him, chuckling as he remembered.

“Yeah, Dad took the car from you for a month and you threw a complete bitch fit.”

“I did not!” Dean rebutted, trying to define that sense of masculinity that Sam was desperately trying to poke holes through.

“You totally did! You were moping around the motel for weeks like a girl.”

“Was not.” Dean jabbed his elbow into Sam’s ribs. “I just… missed the car.”

Sam rolled his eyes, shifting closer to Dean on the hood. “Whatever.”

Dean didn’t bring any fireworks, not like he had done years ago, despite the fact that they passed about a million red and white tents on the way here but Sam seemed perfectly content sitting on the hood and looking up towards the sky, watching the stars.

“This is probably my favorite place in the world.” Dean whispered right into Sam’s ear, his hot breath causing goosebumps to rise of Sam’s skin. “Actually… my favorite place in the world is inside you. But this… this place is a close second.”

Sam’s breathing hitched.

“You kissed me that night, remember? You did the one thing that I could never do, no matter how much I wanted it.” Dean slid up closer to Sam, pressing his body flush up against his brothers, nipping at his earlobe. “I was so scared that you didn’t want me in the same way so I never did tell you. But now… now I’m not scared at taking what I want.”

Sam turned his head and Dean captured his lips with his own.

“Are we going to do this here?” Sam asked through the kiss and he could practically feel Dean smirking against him.

“Don’t cha know it, baby brother.”

Sam whined at that, pushing Dean down against the windshield as he rolled on top of Dean, straddling his waist with his knees. His lips were feverish as they moved against Dean’s desperate to kiss and lick into Dean’s mouth. His fingers found their way underneath his shirt, moving up the muscle, tracing every scar that lined his stomach.

It was hot outside, the humidity thick in the air and Sam was only wearing a thin t-shirt that Dean was almost positive was once his. He pulled at the hem of Sam’s shirt, pulling it up and over Sam’s head, tossing it to the ground to the side of them. Already Sam was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and Dean kissed down Sam’s neck. Down along his jaw only to settle in the hollow of his throat to lick at the sweat that collected there. Sam there his head back, giving Dean all the access that he could want.

“I remember the first time I fucked you, Sammy.” Dean muttered against Sam’s flesh, his hands moving down Sam’s body to the back of his jeans. “It was summer, the summer before you left for Stanford and you were desperate for it.”

“It’s only because you made me wait so long.” Sam rebutted, his voice nothing more than a weak moan.

“Yeah, well I didn't want to do something that you might regret later.” Dean replied back truthfully, pulling away from Sam to look at him. Really look at him.

In the moonlight he looked so much like he did when he first did this. And it was also in a field much like this one. Dad had taken them out in the middle of nowhere for some hunt and they stayed in some one room cabin and this was the time when Dad and Sam couldn't say more than two words to each other without it being some sort of fight. Sam ran out when it got too much and the night swallowed him up. Dean followed because that's what he did. Ever since Sam was a child, Dean followed. That's just how it was.

They weren't really sure what to call what they were. Relationship felt something too small to describe what they were. Lovers felt cliche. Brothers who were closer than brothers felt all kinds of wrong. But whatever they were had been going on for years now. However, in that time, Dean never fucked Sam. Wouldn't allow himself to before the kid turned eighteen. That was his one rule and every chance Sam got, he tried to break that rule. He would dangle himself in front of Dean, hoping that he would just snap. Dean never did until that one night where Sam ran out, slamming the door behind him and Dad locked himself in his room with a bottle of Jack in his hand.

Dean followed Sam out into the night and found Sam sitting in the middle of the field, eyes wet with tears staring up at the moon wishing that he could just get away.

Dean sat down next to him and for a long time Sam refused to acknowledge that Dean was even there. He looked off in the opposite of Dean, not saying anything when Dean would ask a question and Dean was perfectly content just sitting next to Sam in the dark watching the stars.

Until Sam had to turn to him, tears still in his eyes and asked the one question that he never thought he would hear Sam utter. If he hated him like Dad hated him. Dean wanted to tell him that Dad didn't hate him, Dad could never hate him but the words wouldn't come out of his mouth. Instead, Dean grabbed Sam’s face and pulled him in for a kiss, hoping that Sam would understand everything that Dean needed him to understand. Then, that night under the stars, with barely any prompting from Sam, Dean fucked him. Slow and sweet and with every ounce of emotion that he could convey through his movements.

“When it comes to you, Dean, I regret nothing.” Sam said, cupping Dean’s cheek and running his thumb along his cheekbone. Dean leaned into the touch despite himself.

“You fucking sap.” Dean muttered, blushing a little under the moonlight and he tried to distract himself by removing his shirt.

“Says the person who literally brought us back to the spot where we had our first kiss.”

“It wasn't because of that!” Dean exclaimed. “It's because you have a great view of the fireworks here and that's what I wanted to see.”

“Dean…” Sam said in this voice that was full of both admiration and annoyance. “The only fireworks we'll be seeing is if we shoot them off ourselves.”

Instead of answering to that obvious fact, Dean buried his hands back in Sam’s hair and pulled him back down for a kiss. Without falling off the car (which was a lot harder than either brother wanted to admit) they both stripped out of the rest of their clothes. Dean was still on his back, his skin sliding against the cooling metal of the car while Sam was still on top of him, straddling his waist.

“You got any lube?” Dean mumbled into Sam’s mouth. He had planned out all of this, the field, the laying out on the car, hopefully getting laid and he forgot the one thing that Sam would need.

Sam smirked, pulling away just far enough that not only could Dean feel it against his own lips, but see it. “Yeah.” He said, sliding off Dean and down the car to where his jeans were discarded on the ground and threw it up to where Dean was watching him. Dean caught it easily out of the air.

“Fucking boy scout.” Dean teased with no volition in his voice.

There wasn’t much talking after that. The sound of the bottle popping open echoed around them and Dean poured it over his fingers. The first touch of Dean’s fingers to Sam’s hole made Sam gasp, leaning forward further into Dean, kissing him with wet, dirty, open mouth kisses.

With experienced fingers, he stretched Sam open, making sure that his brother wouldn’t feel an ounce of pain because that’s not what this was about. There were times when Sam liked it to hurt. Times when they were both amped up after a hunt and desperate for each other and skin on skin and Sam just needed Dean inside of him and the pain would only make everything feel better. But this, this wasn’t about that. This was about Dean making sure that Sam knew how much he needed him without saying the words.

“Come on, Dean.” Sam groaned, pulling away, pressing his hands flat on Dean’s chest. “I need you inside of me already.”

“Just trying to make sure that you’re ready.” But regardless he grabbed the bottle and poured some more lube over his fingers to slick up his cock, needing to be inside of Sam as much as Sam needed him.

“I’m always ready for you.”

Dean bit his tongue to keep from calling Sam a sap again but he didn’t miss the way that his heart did a stutter step at the declaration. Sam always seemed to make his heart do that. Make it feel like it was going to beat out of his chest while simultaneously stopping.

Even though Dean’s been inside of Sam more times than he could count, it always felt like the first time. It always felt like all the oxygen in his lungs had been punched out of him, Sam always impossibly tight. Sam sank down on top of Dean, taking his time, taking every inch that Dean had to offer, going so slow so that he could feel it all.

Finally when Dean bottomed out and Sam was so stuffed full of his brother, their mouths met desperate to taste each other.

Dean let Sam control the pace, how fast he wanted to go. He placed his hands on Sam’s hips, his fingers digging into those bony hips that he’s never grown out of and Sam still had his hands on Dean’s chest, rising and falling, every inch of Dean filling every inch of Sam.

They didn’t speak. There wasn’t any need for words. They spoke through touches and wet kisses and looks that said everything that didn’t need to be said.

Sweat was running down Sam’s chest, making perfect little trails that Dean wanted to follow with his tongue. Sam had his hands in Dean’s hair, pushing through it and spiking it up with the sweat that was breaking out along his hairline.

Somewhere in the background, they could hear the distant sound of firecrackers going off if they cared to listen for such a thing.

Sam came first. Dean wrapped his hand around Sam’s hard cock, running his fingers up and down the shaft, going on this side of slow that it could be considered teasing and Sam came over his fingers, Dean’s name in his mouth. Dean pulled everything out of Sam’s body, every ounce of pleasure that he could get before he took what he needed himself, not that it took a lot.

He kissed Sam as he came inside of his baby brother, painting the inside of him white.

Sam didn’t move. He didn’t want to move off his brother. He was perfectly content in seeing the stars reflected in Dean’s eyes as he stared down at him and for a while, they didn’t move. Dean ran his fingers up and down Sam’s body, tracing the scars and lines of muscle that only came with the life of hunting and Sam buried his head in the crook of Dean’s shoulder, a place that he would happily die.

After a while, Dean shifted on the Impala, the metal hood no longer as comfortable as it once was and the added weight of his baby brother was only pushing him down into it harder and Sam rolled off him onto the ground.

It was a silent dance between the two of them. Sam grabbed a rag from the back of the car and cleaned himself up before he passed it to his brother.

Then Dean grabbed an old quilt that Bobby had given to them when they were children and they crawled into the backseat with each other. It was a tight fit for the two of them, almost impossible but neither one of them complained.

Sam rested nearly on top of Dean, his head laying right over Dean’s heart and he could hear the steady thump thump of it and Dean had his hands in Sam’s hair, brushing out the knots.

They fell asleep like that, in that field that had been burned down but grew up as strong and wild as the boys who burnt it in the first place.

tagging:  @justanothersaltandburn, @purgatoan, @corrupteddean, @pictures-over-words, @wetsammywinchester, @itsnotsammy, @golly-god, @bowlegdean, @ilostmyshoe-79, @the-mrs-deanwinchester, @oh-jesus-sammy, @ramblingmandean, @clearlylostmymind, @hes-my-brother, @silentsam, @nasleypurple, @nisaki-chan, @xdeanskittenx, @they-call-me-winchester, @random-fireworks, @spngirl00, @therealactualbatman

[the-record-columns]

July 10, 2019: Columns

A 9 year-old jewel named Dresden...

Above right is the cover of the card Dresden presented to Ken Welborn at the Fourth of July celebration in his apartment. Above left is Dresden.

By KEN WELBORN

Record Publisher

As often noted, many days my visitors are the best part of the day. This past Wednesday, July 3, was no exception. 

I had just told The Record’s Editor Jerry Lankford I had a couple of errands to run when some folks walked in, a man, woman and young daughter..  After my usual query "Now what brings you folks to our little corner of the world?" an amazing visit began. 

They were from St. Petersburg, Fla., and in the Boone area on vacation. The mom, Devon, explained that she spent some summers visiting her grandmother in Boone, and had always enjoyed the mountains, and came back when she could. The man's name was Adolfo, and the daughter was 9-year-old Dresden.  They were all three fascinating, but the way Dresden carried herself, confident and at ease well beyond her years, was noticeable.  When asked what she was doing during summer, she explained that she wrote poetry, wrote songs, and was an artist—among other things.

 They asked a lot of questions, listened patiently to my stories about each artifact, oddity, and, of course, me.  These were the kind of people you felt as though you had known for 20 years in 20 minutes.  In the process of the conversation, I inquired how long they were going to be around.  They said they were renting a little place and would be around a few more days, then wondered aloud where would be a good place to watch the Fourth of July Fireworks around here.

I smiled and said, "Funny you should ask that, because I live upstairs here and bunch of folks are coming tomorrow night to enjoy a picnic dinner, watch the Fire Truck Parade, and then the fireworks at dusk—and you folks will be as welcome as a summer breeze.”

"We'll be there." Devon said, without hesitation. 

As they were leaving, Dresden noticed the picture of my late dog, Powder, on the front counter.  Of course I showed them the other pictures and told them all about my wonderful dog and my sadness at losing him to cancer about 18 months ago. We talked on a bit about dogs and, as, we said our goodbye's, they reminded me they really would be back to see me on the Fourth.

Ann and Tom Graves and Marilyn Payne were the first to arrive Thursday with loads of food. They kindly set up things and got the place organized for company. I told them that I may have special guests from Florida and they would really enjoy this family. A while later, Ann came and told me that my Florida folks had arrived and I went up front. 

By the time I got there, my friend, Carl White, of the syndicated TV show Life in the Carolinas, was already working them, and said that the young girl had something for me.  Dresden handed me a card she had made with a drawing of Powder on the front—she had seen that picture of Powder for about two minutes and was able to sketch him for the card.  I was so taken aback I could hardly speak, or even read the card.  Dresden then read aloud the inside of the card, which was written by her own hand, and in front of a house-full of people she had never seen before.  She read with a comfort and ease that would have made any adult proud. 

It read:

 What we have enjoyed we can never lose; All that we love deeply becomes a part of us.

The bond with a dog is as lasting as the ties of the earth can ever be.

When an 85 pound mammal licks your tears away, then tries to sit on your lap, it's hard to feel sad.

 I wanted to cry, I simply could not believe this amazing kindness.  Dresden handed the card back to me and hugged me. 

What can I add to that except to say: "Thank you from the bottom of my heart," to Devon, Adolfo, and most especially, Dresden, a 9-year-old jewel; for making this a Fourth of July I'll never forget.

The National Anthem: Musical Appropriation at its finest

By HEATHER DEAN

Record Reporter

Now that everyone has come out of their respective holiday weekend hot dog comas, shut down social media with pictures of all the cute kids dressed up in matching patriotic, albeit against flag code, ensembles and gotten back to the grind, let’s talk about the song you’ve been singing all weekend: the United States National Anthem.

You may recall in a column last month in which I talked about a teenager who didn’t know how old our country was, or why we had fireworks for Independence Day.

That face palm moment paled in comparison to the statement last week by an adult about General Washington taking the airports away from the British. Which got me to thinking, if the masses have been so consumed by technology and meme-able moments passing off as “history” that they don’t know what an errant faux pas that truly was, what do they know?

Hopefully, in fourth-grade history you learned that our National Anthem comes from a poem written on Sept. 14, 1814, by 35-year-old lawyer and amateur poet Francis Scott Key. The poem was inspired by the 30-by-42 foot U.S. garrison flag, (currently with 15 stars and 15 stripes, commonly referred to as the as the Star-Spangled Banner), being  raised triumphantly that morning above Fort McHenry in Baltimore Harbor after watching the British Navy bombard the bastion.

This was three and a half decades after the motion was approved for the Declaration of Independence to be officially adopted in the Second Continental Congress on July 4th.

Anyway, back to Francis…

Key’s poem, entitled “Defense of Fort M’Henry,” was set to the tune of the Constitutional Anthem from the Anacreontic Society, a London men's social club (read: ridiculously wealthy men with nothing better to do for society than meet to celebrate music, food and drink.) "To Anacreon in Heaven," was popular in the U.S. at the time. Anacreon was a Greek poet from about 570 BC, and noted for his erotic poetry. Renamed the Star-Spangled Banner, it soon became well-known as a patriotic song.  

It was not considered the national anthem until1931-the year my grandmother was born- 117 years after it was written, and only then by a congressional resolution signed by President Hoover. Until that time, "Hail, Columbia" (1798), was used for most of the 19th century, then later "My Country, 'Tis of Thee” (1831), which also happens to be an appropriated tune. You may have noticed it’s the same music as the British National Anthem "God Save the Queen.”

As an aside, is anyone else giggling, knowing that our National Anthem was put to the tune of a notoriously bawdy drinking song, knowing what we do about the temperance movement and prohibition?

Did you know our National Anthem has four stanzas?  Here are the last three versus.

I’ll expect you to sing it with me at the next ball game.

 On the shore dimly seen thro' the mists of the deep,

Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,

What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,

As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?

Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,

In full glory reflected, now shines on the stream:

'Tis the star-spangled banner: O, long may it wave

O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

 And where is that band who so vauntingly swore

That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion

A home and a country should leave us no more?

Their blood has wash'd out their foul footsteps' pollution.

No refuge could save the hireling and slave

From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave:

And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave

O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

 O, thus be it ever when freemen shall stand,

Between their lov'd homes and the war's desolation;

Blest with vict'ry and peace, may the heav'n-rescued land

Praise the Pow'r that hath made and preserv'd us a nation!

Then conquer we must, when our cause is just,

And this be our motto: "In God is our trust"

And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave

O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

The scales have tipped

By EARL COX

Special to The Record

Those of you who read this column likely know that on November 29, 1947, the UN General Assembly passed the United Nation Partition Plan which made possible the establishment of the State of Israel.  However, what was possible in 1947 would be impossible today.  The scales have tipped, and they are against Israel.

Following World War II, the United Nations (UN) was created to replace the League of Nations for the purpose of preventing another major conflict.  There were four main goals outlined in its charter but boiled down and put into a nutshell, the UN was established to ensure a peaceful future for the world.  Initially there were 51 member states.  Today there are 193. Many of these “new” member states come from Africa and the Middle East and are primarily Muslim or aligned with the Muslim agenda.  The sheer number of these “new” member states stacks the deck against Israel at every vote.  While the United States, Israel’s stalwart Western friend and ally, still holds significant sway at the UN, we are not the powerhouse we once were.  This has little, if anything, to do with President Trump but everything to do with Islam’s desire to destroy Israel.  Furthermore, the majority of these “new” UN member states are members of, or affiliated with, the Non-Aligned Movement known as NAM.  What is NAM? It is the umbrella organization for the Organization of Islamic Cooperation (OIC). Is it any wonder that Israel comes under constant and harsh criticism and condemnation by the UN which is more focused on denigrating Israel than it is on human atrocities taking place in other parts of the world such as Libya, Iran, North Korea, Syria and others?  

Tiny Israel, the only democracy in the Middle East where its citizens, including its minorities, enjoy freedom and equality, is condemned more than mass-murdering dictatorships.  Insanity reigns as Israel is consistently held to a different and higher standard.  Yes, the scales are tipped against Israel. She needs friends now more than ever and she’s finding them within the worldwide Evangelical Christian community.  We must come together with one loud, pro-Israel, voice.  In Joel 3:2 the Bible says, “…there will I deal with and execute   judgment upon them for their treatment of My people (the Jews) and of My heritage Israel, whom they have scattered among the nations, and because they have divided My land.” While it is currently considered politically correct to stand against Israel as is evidenced by the rising tide of anti-Semitism and BDS campaigns, we cannot honor God if we fear man.  Those who compromise the Word of God are a compromised people indeed and God says He will curse those who curse Israel (Genesis 12:3).

Bagpipes, Tree Tossing and Traditions

By CARL WHITE

Life in the Carolinas

The stimulating sounds of bagpipes filled the air as I made my way from the parking area to the festivities of the Grandfather Mountain Highland Games. I look forward to this annual gathering that celebrates Scottish heritage, which has a significant place in the Carolinas.

In my visits to the Highland Games over the years, I have met many people of interest and learned much about the origins of many of the things that we do in the Carolinas. I've met great story tellers, musicians, shepherds and athletes who enjoy the caber toss, which is the sport of tossing a tapered pole made from a large tree.

The caber is around 175 pounds and just under 20 feet long. The objective is to toss it in such a way that it turns end over end, falling away from the tosser. I have watched many people participate in this activity, and I am convinced that this is not an easy feat. This sport, as well as all the others in the games, is done while wearing fashionable kilts with colored patterns that are synonymous with the wearers' family names.

It was several years ago at the Highland Games that I met the talented Joseph and Laralyn RiverWind. They were at a music exhibit that featured beautiful flute and harp music. It was from them that I learned about the term "Blessed Blend." In short, it was said that many years ago a Scotsman met a Native American woman and fell in love with her. This was at a time when such a relationship would not have been looked at in a good way. However, in this case the fellow must have had a friend in the Church, because before long the joining of a Scotsman with a Native American woman was proclaimed to be a "Blessed Blend," and so it has been from that time.

The thing that I enjoy most about the Highland Games, other than the fact that it is held in an amazing setting of nature, is that its purpose is to preserve, celebrate and learn from history. It's a bit like having a solid foundation to stand upon. It is not about being perfect, and it's not about being right and everyone one else being is wrong. If you look at Scottish history you will see that it is made up of different thoughts and ideas within its own heritage. As with most cultures, the clans (families) did not always get along with each other, but for sure they were all Scottish, and through the years a core group of people have kept the heritage and traditions alive.

I recall first meeting photographer Edgar Payne at the Highland Games. I have met governors, diplomats and royals at the games. I have meet people with great beards and people with scotch to share.

Scottish games are also held in other parts of the Carolinas, and some folks say they enjoy the smaller gatherings more because they are not as crowded. I actually enjoy both, but I do lean toward the energy that comes from the larger gathering at Grandfather Mountain.

I love the idea of our melting pot. However, I believe that there are ingredients within our American stew that have a noticeable flavor. The Scottish influence is certainly one of those ingredients that provides a wonderful contribution; it also blends well with others.

I'm not sure if it's the magic of the mountain air or the alluring power that has developed after 60 years of the gatherings being held at MacRae Meadows on Grandfather  Mountain that makes this such an enjoyable event. I’ve never worn a kilt, but if it were the only way to get in, I just might.

 Carl White is the executive producer and host of the award-winning syndicated TV show Carl White’s Life In the Carolinas. The weekly show is now in its seventh year of syndication and can be seen in the Charlotte viewing market on WJZY Fox 46 Saturdays at 12:30am. You can also watch episodes on Amazon Prime For more on the show visit www.lifeinthecarolinas.com, You can email Carl White at Carl@lifeinthecarolinas.com.  

[gzdude13]

The Girl and the Closet by GZDude13

The following are select journal entries from the many journals belonging to Shelly Mary Jones

August 29, 2006 Dear Diary,

Mommy and Daddy are making me start writing in this journal after I got in trouble. Marcy is a girl in my class. I barely started the second grade. Marcy was mean to me and took my brand new markers without asking so I pushed her and called her a goober. I was sent to the office and my mommy and daddy had to come and talk to my teacher. They said I was fighting, but that was not true. The principal talked to my parents about bullying and they said they would talk to me about it too.

So today I am writing in this diary as there-a-pee or something like that. Daddy told me that if I’m mean to others then the dark eye monster will come and get me. They said that the dark eye lives in the dark parts of the world like shadows and sewers or under my bed and loves to go after bad kids. Kids that bully other kids and hit or call them mean things. My teacher says that I am too smart to be a bully and should focus on being a good student. I think from now on I will be good even if others make fun of my red hair and freckles.

From now on I will be a good girl.

January 25, 2010 Dear Diary,

I came home crying from school today. I get made fun of a lot at school even though I do my best to be kind to everyone. Today I think I reached my limit because I ended up slapping Jenny after she pulled my hair. She was mad at me because she has a crush on Brandon and he likes to talk to me during lunch. She and her group of friends came over to my table when I was alone and started saying mean things about why I always sit alone. I tried to be nice and tell her that she had the wrong idea, but she only chastised me for putting on the “good girl” act. When I tried to answer her she yelled “shut the fuck up bitch!” and pulled my hair. I didn’t mean to slap her, it was just reflex. Mom and Dad are going to be so disappointed.

I’ve heard the rumors… everyone thinks I suck up to the teacher and that’s why I get good grades. Everyone says that I only pretend to be nice and pretend to be sweet because I like the attention from the adults. My parents use to scare me with stories about the DarkEye monster to make sure I didn’t turn out to be a bully. I guess it stuck pretty well because even though I know my parents are going to flip out over me getting detention I’m more scared of going to sleep tonight because of the DarkEye monster. It’s such a stupid childish fear to have, but it’s still there.

January 26, 2010 Dear Diary,

I had a really bad nightmare last night. I went to bed still feeling really guilty over what happened with Jenny yesterday. It didn’t help that my parents were pretty upset with what happened at school either. I am effectively grounded for the next two weeks… I guess I deserve it. But the worst part was the night after. I dreamed of a black shadowy demon with the darkest glinting eyes I had ever seen. It was the DarkEye monster my parents use to scare me with. I know the DarkEye isn’t real and that it’s a childish and stupid tactic my parents used to keep me in line, but it felt real in my dream. It was pitch black yet I could still see two eyes that were darker than black and shined like polished onyx.

I woke up sweating and panting as if I just ran a million miles. The DarkEye isn’t a real thing, my parents made it up, but just in case I’m wrong I promise to be a better person. I promise to be kinder to people no matter what.

October 19, 2016 Dear Journal,

It was a fairly good day today. The student council members all met up during our open period in the morning and we agreed on all the decorations for the Halloween dance. Edgar Ochoa asked me to go with him, but I politely turned him down. Shannon doesn’t have a date and I agreed to go with her and the rest of the girls as a group. We’re all going with themed dresses and outfits. We agreed that no costumes should be allowed at the dance, only themed outfits. The teachers will be in charge of how that craziness will be defined.

As a side note, I think we have to address the issue of bullying in school again. I’m going to bring it up tomorrow because today while walking to my 5th-period class I had to step in and stop the jocks from bullying Sean Snider. He’s an easy target because he’s a little shorter than the average high schooler and a bit awkward. I can relate a little bit because I use to be made fun of for my bright red hair and pale skin. Devin Martin and Jerry Shoemaker seem to be the ringleaders in most fights and bully-related issues on campus. I’ll talk to Mrs. Hartwell and Mr. Terrance tomorrow about the issue.

July 4 2017 Dear Journal,

First off, HAPPY 4TH OF JULY! It was a fantastic day… up until the end. It was a Tuesday, so I had to go to work and then come home for a lunch break before meeting up with mom and dad for a BBQ. Keeping with our yearly tradition we headed to the park to watch the fireworks when the sun goes down. The city went all out this year! There were a ton of awesome stands selling funnel cakes, hotdogs, pretzels, and even a German wiener stand! Nothing says American patriotism quite like German sausage, haha!

But now for the negative part of my day… I saw Sean Snider again today. I honestly think he really is stalking me. I don’t get any weird messages or anything online and so far I haven’t really felt like my life is being directly affected by him, but he has come into the coffee shop several times during my work shift including today. I’ve seen him at the store while applying for classes at college, and today at the park. I literally bumped into him at the German sausage stand. I turned around to walk back to my parents to get some cash and walked right into him! I know I’ve mentioned before that I think he’s following me around, but today I think this proves it. He’s being a little creep! The way I bumped into him really disturbed me. He’s so short that when I turned around and walked into him… just… ew…

April 6, 2018 Dear Journal,

Oh god, I haven’t been sleeping well during the past few weeks. I’ve been having nightmares and end up waking up around 3:00 am. I started having nightmares around July of last year. I know what it is too; I’m stressing and letting in negative thoughts. I have to try and stay positive and polite, but honestly, some people are complete garbage! I notice that the only nights I have nightmares are the days when someone ticks me off.

The nightmares are always the same too. That stupid childish monster my mom and dad made up to keep me in line… DarkEye… In every nightmare I see it creeping after me, slowly getting closer and closer every night I dream of it. I’ve gotten into the habit of looking under my bed and in my closet just in case there are monsters hiding there... namely DarkEye. Maybe I’ll start meditating again and try to think more positively.

April 9, 2018 Dear Journal,

Between college, work, and the possibility of having a constant stalker, (I saw Snider the creep today AGAIN!), I am stressing out and people are pissing me the hell off! Every night I have the same nightmare of DarkEye coming after me. I wake up at 3:00 am and find my closet door open when I’m sure I closed the damn thing!

I’m probably just being a drama queen, but I keep up the façade of being unaffected by the bull crap people throw my way. My coworkers talk smack about me behind my back and have accused me of going as far as sleeping with the boss to get my promotion. Two of my teachers are completely incompetent when it comes to grading papers, and I swear that sniveling little hobbit, Snider, somehow memorized my daily schedule because I see him EVERYWHERE! I’m just glad he doesn’t know where I live.

April 11, 2018 Holy shit journal!

My patience is being tested today. I woke up again last night and again my closet was wide open. I’m driving myself insane because this time I could have sworn I saw a monstrous dark figure stepping out. I managed to get my desk lamp on only to find myself completely alone, seriously the DarkEye is just make-believe. Going back to sleep was hard, but I got a bit of sleep afterward and managed to make it into work on time. My coworkers were being the usual assholes again. College life is just as annoying as usual. My professors must be retarded or drunk because they don’t seem to understand the course material at all.

I need to get a hold of myself. Maybe working and going to school is burning me out. I’ll try to slow down and relax for a bit this weekend. Also, I’m going to sleep with my lamp on tonight just to try and keep the nightmares at bay. This is getting ridiculous…

On the evening of April 12th, 2018 local media reported on the brutal murder of Shelly Mary Jones. In the following weeks, police and investigators used Shelly’s journals as well as the statements of witnesses in her neighborhood to piece together the events leading up to her death in the early hours of April 12th, 2018. Shelly was found by police responding to a 911 call made by concerned neighbors who reported hearing screams emanating from Shelly’s property a few minutes after 3:00 am that morning.

She was discovered lying in a puddle of her own blood in her bedroom. Her body was covered in bruises and multiple lacerations. Evidence discovered on the scene included: A large carving knife, taken from the victims kitchen, a blood-covered baseball bat also belonging to the victim, a cellphone and camera on the outside of the victim’s bedroom window with pictures of the victim taken from the outside of her home, DNA samples on the outside of the victim’s bedroom and bathroom windows, and multiple fingerprints on and around the outside of the victim’s bedroom window.

Witnesses reported hearing screams emanating from Ms. Jones’s home a few minutes after 3:00 am. The neighbor on the east side of Ms. Jones’s property reported hearing a loud crash as if someone knocked over some trash bins. The neighbor on the west side of Ms. Jones’s property was awoken by the sound of screaming and also reported hearing a similar crash that made him step outside in time to see a short man running down the street with a visible wound on his arm trailing blood.

Further investigation proved that the camera and cellphone found on the scene belonged to a man named Sean Caleb Snider. Investigators believe that Mr. Snider had developed an unhealthy obsession with Ms. Jones. Ms. Jones wrote about her suspicions on the very matter in her personal journals. Evidence suggests that Snider allowed his unhealthy obsession to build up to the point in which he began to gain entry into Ms. Jones’s property while she was asleep.

Investigators believe that on the night of the murder, Snider gained entry into her property, retrieved a knife from her kitchen with the intent to assault Ms. Jones in her sleep. A struggle ensued which led to the death of Ms. Jones. It’s believed that the bat and knife found on the scene were both used to assault the victim. The DNA and fingerprints found on the scene of the crime came back as a match to the suspect in question, Sean Caleb Snider.

He was later arrested the same day by police who found him hiding under his bed at his parent’s house. He had sustained a similar injury as described by the neighbor that witnessed Snider fleeing the scene, furthermore, the injury matched the lacerations on the victim’s body. It’s believed that he sustained the wound during the struggle with the victim. The baseball bat must have been a weapon of opportunity.

Snider was arrested and taken to the local hospital to treat his wounds. He has not cooperated with investigators and has shown signs of extreme mental instability.

[qcatter]

The Second Fourth of July

SO with the actual fourth of july and family making this take longer, (and the fact it’s exactly nine pages long in a small font) Shout out to @autumn-sweet-fae​ for just going thro all of the MIB AU, giving me a reason to just stick this up here on tumblr.  Some notes for this, like most holiday specials it fits into the timeline the way DBZ movies do. Also T hasnt made his debut yet. (He’s a scientist that Reigen often goes to for under the counter help, and who’s relationship with Reigen is based on mutual blackmail and good natured ribbing.) IF you read very carefully you can find things mentioned here that Dinner and i havent posted yet either. Oh and pretend i actually know what the laws on fireworks are, i havnt been in this state for three years, or ever bought fireworks.

(once again, this was written for Discord, so the odd symbols are marks of formatting.)

Today was the Fourth of July, ~~Independence Day was never spoken aloud in the MIB faulty after that movie came out, it was bad luck of a sort.~~  It wasn’t one of Reigen’s favorite holidays.  Aliens tended to find the Fourth as a wonderful cover up for gang fights since any weapons they might have could easily be overlooked as *fireworks* ment that the mib had to be on top of their game for normal business as well as the police call ins for disturbances.  Almost as bad as Halloween, *almost*.  *both* of them were set in the evening after dark when reigen’s soaps were on. Actually Reigen didn’t like any of the holidays.  As a secret government worker he never got time off for them half the time, and the others he would volunteer since he didnt exactly have loved ones to spend the holidays with. This had changed recently. Unfortunately, Reigen had a pattern, a pattern that was still in the system seeing as he had actually asked for the fourth off and was still scheduled in tonight.  He had just spent most of his dinner break going through every floor of the facility to find someone willing to stand in for him. To no avail. Which was why he was currently in the lower floors of the building holding an ear piercing peeping slimey thing that looked like the unholy offspring of emu and a velociraptor.   “-and I had *told* them i was even willing to spend one of my vacation days to have today off, even if it was just the evening but they had written me in and no one will take this time slot!” The tiny bald birdthing in his hand shrieked as he half gestured with it and it dug its *not* so small talons into his palm. “Alright that looks like the first batch, hand that fellow over here Raygun. And im sure Sparky will be fine.” T set the kicking birdling next to it’s sibling in a heated box as he returned to egg watch. “He’s gone down to Thyme Square before right? I know he was saying he wanted to see the fireworks, but it’s not like you *have* to take him.  Couldnt you spin it as an escort maybe?” Reigen slumped and waved that idea past with far less energy than normal. “Tried that, only works if he’s in danger or *is* a danger, and it’s not just Teru.  Serizawa said that he would go with Teru since his classes are canceled and he’s only ever seen fireworks in passing. Apparently the higher ups in Claw never had time to stop and celebrate it, and Touchyrow wasnt even in the country half the time.” T glanced up at Reigen with a *knowing* and growing smug grin. “AH~” “*NO*, T it’s not that. If *teru* goes, and *seri* goes, then *SHOU* is going and you know him. What do you think ’Firecracker’ is going to do!? The kid tried to eat *lava* for petes sake!” “Oh. *oh*” “*exactly!*” Reigen threw his hands up in the air and then wiped the slime from them off on T’s labcoat. “*Thanks* Raygun, just what i needed, *more egg slime.* Seri might be able to keep Shou in check?” “If you said that last month i might have agreed with you, but it looks like Shou’s started to settle in.  He *listens* but it seems that we’ve left the period of terrified obedience left over from his father’s influence. Shou’s actually pretty good with rules when they make sense to *him*. The problem is that he takes himself as close as he can to breaking them if he thinks of something interesting. ‘Dont burn the house down because we need it’ apparently translates to ‘ok keep the fires small’. ” with a groan many parents would sympathize with, reigen plopped his head in his hands. T looked thoughtful as he rotated an egg. “‘Dont try to catch the fireworks after they launch in the middle of Central Park because everyone can see you?” Reigen sighed and flopped down in the nearest chair. It tipped backwards and nearly sent him to the floor before he regained his balance in a flurry of limbs. “Cloaking, cant get caught if you cant be seen.” “Well shit then.” “That’s not even mentioning if Mob and Ritsu join them” “OH I’m sure the Kaygeyamas could h-” Reigen raised one finger sharply. “ One, fireworks give their mother a headache and, Two, their father’s lungs are bad enough they dont go. Mob said that this would be the first time since Ritsu was small enough to get piggyback rides that they had a chance to see them in person.  And that was only because i said i was going to take Teru down and agree to watch them too.” “Mob might be able to help Seri. Sparky and Ritz listen to him and i know Shou pretends like he doesn't but he *does* defer to Mob” “Not with Ritsu around. Shou is always the wild card here and it’s going to be *crowded* if one of them slips up they’d pull the others with them. We *cant* afford having all of them to get caught like that.  It’s why i was hoping you’d be off tonight.” They both looked over at the nest of 20 some eggs. One of them peeped while a few twitched. “I’m probably going to be here all night, we’re low staff as it is. Wish i could go Raygun, i’d love to see the S-Kids react to the fireworks.” “‘Pitty i’m not off, i’d love to see the *fireworks*’ you mean.” “Let’s go with that. And really, they’ll be *fine*. It’s just fireworks, if we have to, tell mob to tell ritsu to make shou *stay*. It’s a little underhanded, but if you just *hint* at the fact the Mib’s on high alert he’ll keep shou from doing anything too flashy.” “I’m still worried. Mob and Seri aren't good with crowds and they’re the ones that have the most sway.” One of the eggs cracked, T clicked his timer and then flipped the watch over for Reigen to see. “Shouldn’t they all be getting set up about now? You better give SherBear a call before your break ends.” Reigen stood up from his chair like a whale ungracefully breaching. Digging for his phone and trying to walk down the hall while kicking his leg to untangle the chair from his foot, he turned to shout back at T. “*RIGHT*, i didnt call him the last few hours, Sh- IT”S JUST SERI! Thanks for letting me rant at you, i hate it when i get stuck unable to *do* anything.” “You and me *both*!” As reigen left T toe-flipped the chair back up and sat down in it by the eggs. “Let’s keep it between us that i only let him talk so long because *you* guys need constant vocalizations and my voice was getting tired. Plus it kept him distracted long enough to stop him from calling Sher for the fifth time since he got in here.”

BY the time reigen got off duty and went home, the fireworks had been over for hours. Turning the key in the lock for the third try the door finally unlocked and he kicked off his shoes into the kitchen. While in the process of shedding his suit coat and wondering for the umtenth time how the MIB really expected you to wear the sunglasses at night, he tripped in the middle of the apartment. Reigen debated if it was worth the effort of getting off the floor in order to move to his bed when the rug seemed to be fairly comfortable. Before he could pass on on the floor the room brightened up greatly as reigen hissed and flung his arm over his glasses. “I’d say ‘morning’ but seeing as the sun hasn’t actually come up i suppose it still counts as night” “Nehh, dont you never wake up before the sun?” “Funny thing, it just so happened that someone stumbled into my house and passed out on the floor.” “Ha ha kid, im just, resting. I’ll be going to bed in a second, could you turn the lights back off though? They’re too bright right now even with the sunglasses on.” “I didnt turn the lights on Boss” Reigen blinked, looked up at Teru through the light glare, and then squinted over his glasses to see that yes, the lights *werent* on at all.“Huh weird, i can sorta see your energy field through the lenses. Very disco hippyish” Teru looked unsure of whether to be sheepish or smug about it, before blinking and then focusing on Reigen “It took us *three* weeks to explain the difference between the outer layers and the field and you could have seen them this whole time if you actually wore *your sunglasses?!*” “Looks like.” Shoving himself off the floor and leaving said glasses behind, reigen made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth while teru seemed to be screaming into his pillow with frustration. Or eating it. Could be both. Most of it seemed to be words at least, since reigen heard some phrases here and there. Such as “THREE WEEKS” and “SHOU”S COAT” with something about “COULDNT EVEN SEE THE DIFFERENCE” followed by “AND I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT HE WAS UP TO TONIGHT” It wasnt until reigen caught “NOT FIVE MINUTES IN HE JUST VANISHES WITH RITSU” that he realized that teru was complaining about more recent things. Pearing out of the bathroom at the array of shredded foam,~~*mauling* pillow in frustration, not eating alright then~~ Regien warmed up his job voice “Shou did *what* now, cause Seri said everything was fine over the phone.” Teru snapped his tail around pulling everything into one pile of foam. “Nothing!” “That didnt sound like nothing, what happened?” “...” “Teruki” “It started out fine! Serizawa picked me up early and we got a good spot out of the way with a good view, and then the Kaygeyama’s showed up and Shigeo brought this big heavy blanket and when we finished setting up he was just gone and so was ritsu.  I didnt see them leave but Ritsu told Shigeo they were going to a different spot. Everything after was fine, Seri shifted but we just pulled some of the blanket over him and everyone thought he was a labrador. But when Shou came back he was *covered* in ash because he and Ritsu went up a tree and he was flying through the rockets like dodgeball and catching the remains” “Ok, but no one was seen then?” “What? No of course not! We know better than that!” “Then what are yo-, wait. Are you annoyed that Shou got to eat the fireworks and you didnt?” Teru huffed and picked through the remains of the pillow. “No. I had a nice evening with Shigeo and S- yes and i cant even *buy* them because im not ‘*old’* enough.” “Rockets arnt even allowed in the city teru, *I* cant even buy those.” “*i know*”

“I think the backyard fountains might be ok in some areas, at least, i should be able to find some if it makes you feel better.” “Shou said something about seeing better fireworks before. I think he’s going to be dragging Seri to the store in a few days for a sale. I gave him fifty bucks if he bought extra for me” “Smart, do you think he’d even give them to you?” “He better.”

Seri was helping Reigen pack the car.  Even if it was just standing and holding over 80 pounds of meat and three bags of charcoal like they weighed no more than a pillow while reigen shoved stray hamburger wrappers out of the way and stacked the buns and condiments in a way that would still let all the kids sit inside. “There, all we have to do is stack those in the back and we should be able to get all four kids in, they’re still small enough.” “I could shift if you think it’s worth it.” “We have to hit the highway, so you would have to be down in the foot space so no one sees you” “That’s fine! Im used to busses and planes, it’s odd when i have all that room to myself” “I know and it makes *my* back hurt to see you fit in such small spaces” Teru and the brothers were sitting on the steps outside the building and one by one they turned and looked down the sidewalk. “Shou’s here.” “Are you sure Ritsu?” “It must be, who else would be coming this way with that many fireworks” Reigen twisted around to look.  There was a stack of colourfull boxes on jeans walking down the sidwalk.  *Many* boxes. Possibly more boxes than would even fit in the car. And most of them, from the labels that reigen could see, were very very much not legal in the city. Some of the boxes were *not* colourful and were completely *unmarked* and THOSE were the ones that really made reigen sweat. Because he could see fireworks poking out of them and they were very *large* rockets.  Shou dropped the stack by the car with a grin. It went up to his chest which was puffed out proudly “I *told* you i knew some better ones.” Shou crowed, before going to tell the kids *all* about how *big* and *grand* the fireworks *he* got were. Somewhere in there was “bigger and better than the city ones” “On the sidethought, i think you might have to shift Seri, T’s bringing a second car but i dont think his little japoneze smart car has that much room in it.

“Are we there yet?” “...” “Are we there yet?” “I know i asked T about this before, but are we *sure* you guys breathe? *because im pretty sure shou sure doesnt.*” “We dont breath *air*, i spent three hours underwater once.” Mob looked thoughtful. “Didnt he say it was like plants? I think we just filter things.” “ARE WE THERE YET?” Ritsu sighed. “You know he’s just going to keep saying it until you answer” “*odd, that didnt stop him the last 16 times i told him no*” “:3c *ARE WE THERE YET*” “I dont think shou’s been on a road trip before.” “Nah, not since my mom took me out to see the stars” “I’ve never actually left the city at night, what’s that like?” “*more than you can count*” “Does the Milkyway look any different to you guys?” “*>:3c are we there yet?*” “Shishou i think im getting carsick” “ Do you need me to pull over? We’re almost there Mob it’ just arou- wait, how?” “It feels like i left my stomach back at the house.” “I think it’s probably because the car doesnt have a gravitational pull like the Earth does, I know I used to feel queasy on the planes until i figured out how to move with them.” “We’re on a ball of rock flinging itself around the sun at god knows what speed and the *traveling in vehicles* makes you feel sick” “Yeah Boss, *but you dont weight more than the car does*” “ARE WE THERE YET” “Oh for *Yes*. T’s got the grill, dont ask what he uses it for. Dont run off too far, this is a bit of a marshy area, watch out for ticks in the grass, Welcome to *nowhere* PA.”

“*Yesss*” “Shou, wh- DONT PHASE THRO THE CAR!”

While everyone else filed out in a normal fashion, shou was already ‘helping’ unpack the car.  What he was actually doing was digging everything out and stacking them in haphazard piles that looked like a sneeze would topple them.  Fireworks sorted in some strange system that made sense to shou and only shou, meat and other foodstuffs on top of the car, and what he was apparently after at the bottom, *the charcoal*.  T watched in amusement as shou half disappeared into the trunk in order to grab the bag before approaching to snatch him by the pants and hauled him out bag and all. “Thanks for finding the charcoal for me firecracker, i know you werent trying to sneak off with one of the bags before we even got the grill set up.” Shou blinked at T upside down and grinned sheepishly. “Maybe” “That doesnt sound guilty at all, you do realize that if you wait about ten minutes we’ll have them all on fire and the food cooking and *then* you can start raiding the bags. I brought extra just because i know you rather eat the *supplies* than the food.” “THANKS T! Did i ever tell you youre the best? *’cause youre the best*” “I know i am, now go pull out the daytime fireworks and smoke bombs so we dont have bugs in our dinner while i go and stop reigen from confusing seri on the grill. Seri’s a master at this Ikei stuff and reigen still puts his shoes on the wrong feet sometimes.” “That explains *so* much”

Soon the air was filled with the smell of meat and veggie kabobs grilling and the sharp bite of chemicals as the kids set off sparkler wands and clouds of coloured smoke.  Shou and ritsu seemed to be having a sword fight with their’s while teru and mob were writing their names in the air.  Reigen returned from the piles of dubiously legal fireworks holding a handful of wands which he offered to seri in a flourish and passed a small bag to T. “I dont have a lighter in the car anymore and i think the kids have the matches right now, but i want to know how shou got *that*.” T looked in the bag and pulled out a smallish bottle with masking tape label saying ‘Na’. “Huh, shou’s got the same supplier as the mib” “Wait you know what that *is*? “It’s just pure sodium. There are less shady sources but this guy has a deal with us, we get half off and even print ads for other labs.” T rummaged farther into the bag. “Oh *neat* he’s got all kinds of homemade firework kits in here.” “T THAT IS *NOT* A ‘Neat’ THAT SHOU GETTING ILLEGAL THI-” “Oh none of these are illegal, i think, you just cant really buy them all too easily, it’s not like most stores carry them. Well, this one might be, but it’s just that since shou is underage that means he shouldnt have been able to get ahold of this. Actually on second thought, i’m pretty sure this is his *father’s* supplier. SO you might be more right than i am.  I could make a ship with a warp drive and never get it out of atmosphere. I have a permit to buy everything but rocket fuel.”

“Youre not making me feel any better about this, T” T frowned down at the bag of elements and cardboard. “Well this might, Shou at least didnt bring the things that make starkids sick, so he either listens, or he ate them before this so we wouldnt know.” Reigen looked over where shou was gathering a handful of smokebombs and was trying to tie all the fuses together. “Hey! Make sure to save the leftover sticks, we can use those to light the fuses so we save the matches.” Ritsu looked up from where he was trying to light another sparkler, “*We have matches?*” Shou’s smile faltered for a minute.. “Oops?” “What have you been lighting them with then?” Teru shrugged, “phosphorous tastes good, and it’s not like we actually need them to set anything on fire. Sparks are easy enough to do.” Ritsu glared up at teru, “says you. Shou, how does this work again?” “You just pull a bunch of energy in one spot. Like picking things up, only instead of grabbing it, you jab it.”  Turning the sparkler over in his hands, ritsu pinched the one end and pushed his thumb against the tip like he was popping the flower off a stem.  The sparkler burst into life with a shower of sparks as ritsu jumped and pulled his hand away from the live end. “HA *told* you could do it! now light up my *masterpiece*”  With a twist of light not unlike the heat waves on Phoenix roads, shou shifted into his starform. Curling in the air his brighter colours nearly blended into the sunset of the sky. Shou held his rainbow cherry stem collection for ritsu to light before swinging it into orbit around himself and flinging the smokebombs into the air with a mimicked shreeck of launching a rocket. They went up 60 feet before the smoke began leaking out and another 20 before they separated and fell apart leaving trails arcing to the ground like a radial rainbow and landed in the grass still hissing out smoke. Shou darted for the nearest one like a flaming arrow and dove into the blue column. “HEY RITSU LOOK!” Ritsu looked, and saw more blue smoke spreading out from where shou displaced it. “Shou i cant see you.” “Really? Not at all? What about you teru?” Teru glanced up from comparing the colours of the fading smoke to the stripes on his tail. He tilted his head, squinted at where shou’s voice was coming from, and rotated his eyes a degree like switching lenses in a microscope. “You are still in the smoke right? I’m not sure if im spotting your energy there or if it’s just the remains of the sunset reflecting off that cloud behind it. “YES!” Shou flickered into sight a few feet away from where teru was looking. “I’ve *never* managed to disappear into smoke before! Do we have anymore of those?” Mob looked at the empty wrappers shou had tossed in a box. “I think you used the last ones.” “Oh right, oh well, you know that this means?!” Shou floated over to the piles he had left and grabbed an armful of ground fountains. Ritsu handed the last remains of the sparkler to his brother and looked back at where reigen was attempting to fish out a dropped burger from the coals. “Actually i think it’s dinner time” Shou’s eyes got wide as he let the fountains drop limply from his arms. “Oooh right *food.* i forgot. RACE YA.”  Zipping to the table only to u-turn on a dime and grab a firework from the bottom of the pile, he tossed it into his mouth before returning to sit next to teru place like the model of the hungry teenager he was.  Shou grinned smugly at teru as ritsu and mob sat next to them. After all the only point of winning was to get the food first. “Pass the fruit salad *please~*” Teru looked shou in the eye, scooped some for himself, and passed it to mob. Shou pouted. Mob looked between teru and shou before passing it to ritsu. “Oh *come on* really?” “Oh sorry, it’s just that ritsu likes it and you tend to take what’s left.” “Yeah that’s fair, but i’d *share* with him.” Serizawa looked at the table nearly covered in food. “Um, reigen, what is this table doing out here anyway?” Reigen paused from eating his burger to wipe the sauce from his face and answer. “Donno, We’re not too far off the Poconos and the Appalachian Trail. You can head down almost any dirt road here and find a picnic table, it’s *weird*. Why does anyone wants to eat outside with all the bugs. Well, i guess the grilled hamburgers are worth it.” “Oh! Speaking of, here shou, i salvaged the victims of reigen’s cooking and shifted the ashes from the coals for you.” “Did i say T was the best? Scratch that, *youre the best seri*” “HEY, *You burned some of them too! Dont blame them all on me!” “Yeah Raygun, but seri’s doesnt flip them ten feet into the air for them to land land five feet away from the grill. Where did those go by the way?” “...”

shou had been the second to the table, he was also second last to leave it. The setting twilight and full stomachs had left teru half asleep and shou was stacking the left over plates to encase him. The rest of the group was slowly gravitating to the pile of fireworks placing blankets on the ground to sit on in anticipation. Mob stretched out on the back edge and propped himself up on his side with his tail curled around the right edge like a barrier. Ritsu immediately hauled his blanket over to his side to claim the area in front of him while T dumped a pile of pillows in the center and kicked them apart and dropped onto his back next to where Serizawa joined Mob in starform and was bunching a blanket and laid on top of it like a saint bernard sized sphinx. Reigen surveyed everyone before clapping his hands together. “Alright, everyone’s eaten, garbage has been gathered, or also eaten while i wasn't looking,” Reigen sat down on Seri’s other sit and twisted back to look at the last two remaining kids. ”Someone needs to wake up teru before we can start.”

 “I GOT IT”

 “I’m not alseep shou *dont you dare*” “K, and since we seem to have misplaced the matches in someone’s stomachs, who wants to do the weird trick to set these off? You can take turns, just be careful.” Shou stopped pulling up grass and sprinkling it on teru to dash over in a blur of orange light. “I DO, I’LL GO FIRST I GOT THEM AFTER ALL”  Shou hovered over the pile and grabbed a small thing with a paper bee pattern, flicked the fuse over his wrist like a snap bracelet and threw it at teru. The firework let out a handful of large yellow sparks before giving out a sharp shriek. Teru echoed it as he lit up, tripped over backwards, and glared at shou from where he was tangled in the table as his stripes strobed as if he could give shou a seizure in retaliation.  The nearby fireflies begin blinking their way towards him even after he stilled his colours. “SHOU WHAT IN THE WORLD WERE YOU THINKING YOU COULD HAVE HURT TERU” “Nah he’s fine,” Shou had the audacity to look at Reigen like he was crazy. Flicking his tail at the firework which was cheerily spitting sparks at Teru and bouncing off the air eight inches from him Shou went on. “you would have to set one of the bigs ones off and hold it right against his side before he felt it. A little spark like those wouldnt have even gotten through my old coat.” Reigen sighed and rubbed at his face. “It’s not like you could have *known* tha-” Shou puffed out like an angry cat with the low building yowl behind it. “I *do*. The larger sparks are like being bitten by a bug, not that any of us would know what that’s like since we’re *living bug zappers.* “ Teru pulled himself out of the table with the grace of a snake and reached down to crush the now dead firework before somewhat agreeing with Shou. Drifting over to join the others with the cloud of fireflies merrily following him teru tucked himself next to Mob’s spot half curled into a knot and claimed the other two sides of the blanket. His tail perfectly mirrored the six inches from the corner as mob’s did, as if he was trying to hide the fact he was longer in length without letting anyone notice. The bugs continued to flash and attempted to land on him only to veer off at odd angles as they got close. The few that didnt flash managed to touchdown on the bright yellow/green patches and flashed in time as the stripes passed under them in waves. Teru sighed. “They're just as annoying though, at least *those* i can fry out of existence” Mob gave him a look. “*deflect* and strongly encourage to fly elsewhere. And not everyone holds as much energy in their field as you do shou. That’s how you *lose* it.” “If you makes you feel better Sparky,” T grinned, “im sure you're a very *pretty* firefly” Teru flicked his stripes blue for a moment causing the bugs to scatter and circle in confusion like dancing stars. Shou waved his tail into the swarm to show how the lit bugs also failed to make contact with him before giving reigen a challenging look. Reigen sighed as, once again, shou continued to prove normal rules didnt apply to him. “OK, fine. Starkids are mildly firework proof, *im* not. Neither is T, or the grass. Possibly Ritsu.” Ritsu shrugged “It hurts if i let them touch my skin for a few seconds but it builds up to the burn” “Right, so try not to throw any around please. Last thing we want is a fire and i *know* you guys aren't fireproof. Wait, Shou eats fire, T help?” T waved his hand in a iffy motion “It’s the energy transfer, um think sugar glass? If you get enough that makes it hard to break through but it still hurts. Huh, that would make fireworks like candy then.” “YUP.” Shou popped a handful of ground snappers into his mouth and spat out a bit of smoke. Hooking another fountain and tossing it *unlit* to teru as a peace offering, he spun thro the air. “Come on! Everything’s fine, no one’s hurt, you two can stand next to Mob if you’re worried about sparks, he’s got like, a three foot clearance. Seri’s got like, *five*.  And i got a *stack* of these shitty fountains we can munch on while we use the *good* ones” Mob and Ritsu glanced at each other. “Wait we’re not setting these off first?” “We used to go in order of size when our dad got them.” “Nah, they arnt worth the gunpower” Shou grabbed a bundle of rockets wrapped around a single pole and stabbed it into the ground. “Now *these*, *these are worth it”* and planting his hands on the ground Shou cracked his tail like a whip across the fuse as it sparked and Blasted one rocket into the air. The head of every starkid snapped to follow it’s movement with all three eyes. The resulting ring of colours was surprisingly large for a three inch rocket. As the white faded from the air the next rocket caught and launched after it. The green jitterbugs spun and wiggled through the air as shou echoed the whistle and followed the movements like a bee dance. The third one shou chased up after as it shot off and he darted underneath it after a purplish ‘bug’ and snapped at it. Twisting around to avoid the next rocket he dove back down to the group and grinned. Then spat out the spark that flashed and fizzled in the middle of the air between them. With the “THLP” signaling the launch shou flipped in the air to go after it only for Seri to lift a paw from the blanket nest.  Everyone but Teru missed the explosion in favor of watching Shou squirm in the air as he slowly drifted down and flattened against the ground. “Shou no. You dont want to catch that in the air before they go off, you cant eat them faster than they explode.” “Yeah Firecracker, dont play fetch with the fireworks, i think Raygun’s having a heart attack.” Shou dug his claws into the dirt and huffed. He twitched as another launched and glared at Seri until he put his paw down, letting Shou drift back into the air. Teru was glad that no one could see his second set of hands. While he looked to be sitting perfectly poised, he had his own claws dug into the blankets to stop himself from jerking after fireworks as well. “I wasn- yeah fine.  *i still wanna catch it tho*.” “Why dont you just eat the other ones then?” “those dont *move*” Shou fluttered over to the boxes and emptied them out and stuck the rest in the ground before snapping a claw over  the fuse of one. “What, do we need to toss them for you? If it makes you stop going after the rockets we can. Not going to light them though.” “Nah im good on food, it’s just that they dart off *fast-*” The next rocket went off and shou *lunged* only for Teru to make a sharp ‘Stri!ik’ sound at him and Shou flipped back like he *wasnt* just about to chase down the firework. T perked up at the sound teru made more than any of the fireworks as he pulled out his phone and clipped a bit of video. “Oooh Sparky that one’s ‘come here’ right?” Reigen stared at T in disbelief. “Have you been recording this whole evening?” Ritsu glanced over from where he was leaning against his brother side. “No that was ‘stay’, this one’s ‘come here’” and ritsu gave a whistle of a quarter note followed by a higher eighth. Shou flashed over to his side and wiggled himself between Mob’s inky darkness and Ritsu’s back with a placating warble. “It’s a bit longer, but i think it’s the same base of ‘here’. ‘There’ is a bit lower and longer than both of them” ritsu frowned. “Or shorter?”  Shou settled like an oversized neck pillow and flipped upside down to look at both ritsu and T. “Depends on how *far* ‘there’ is. You say it first and hold it as long as you need to. Pops used to laugh when people asked where he was from and kept it up for ages underneath his words.” “Huh, do the fireworks say anything?” Mob blinked down at T. “Not really? It’s a bit flat, but some of them sound like you startled them and they want you to back off” “Yeah, they do kinda sound angry in a way, but the ones that *pop* are the BEST” Crackling along with the firework pack’s final five rockets, shou’s constant movement made him slip sideways off mob who caught him from tipping over completely in the curl of his tail.  Shou peered over at Teru with a grin as Ritsu wrapped an arm over him to hold him still and take advantage of his warmth. “Hey *teru*, you wanna set off the next pack? Or is your tail too jagged to reach that far?” Responding with a “*easily~*” Teru snapped his tail like a lightening bolt and with a fizz the last set burned and started shooting off small white streams. Then shot off one that flew up high. It went off with a thunderous *bang*”that shou mimicked with a bark like a car backfiring. Followed by two more. “Shou this isn’t just flashbangs is it?” “Nah it’s got others in it, there’s just a few in the start first.” Watching the orange trail of the next one everyone was surprised when Teru joined Shou’s echoing with his own electrical short of a bang.“Does th-” Before T managed to ask them what it was about he was cut off by another flashbang as the two of them repeated the sound. Followed hesitantly by a chime of a struck wineglass from Mob. “Do you guys like these or what?” Ritsu looked just as baffled as Reigen did while the sky popped and shrieked with colours. “Niisan normally hates the loud ones.” “Oh, it’s just that Shou and Teruki already responded so i thought i might as well too.” T pounced on that phrasing as he did with any other tidbit about starkids’ natural behaviors. “SO that *means* something? *What?*” *BANG* Seri stopped twisting the blanket into knots as the others continued their chorus. Shou’s immediate smaller echo, teru, who had refined his sound into something more viola based, and mob’s short ringing ping. Tilting his head as he listened he attempted to find words for such a short sound. “I’m not sure if it’s actually asking for a response, it just seems expected, but it’s a bit of a ‘i’m here. Who’s there?” BANG, BaNG, thi!vvvz!, Thri!ing! “That doesn't sound anything like ‘here.’” “I know, it’s *flat* sounding, but you dont have to say* youre there, that’s just implied.” “Yup! ‘Im *me!’ works just fine. All ya have to do is just sorta say something that sounds like you,” Shou twisted out of ritsu’ grasp and swam in the air over Serizawa. Reigen looked over at shou who started poking and “pip”ing at Seri. “Wait so it’s basicly a great big hello?” “It’s not that friendly, the whole game is not getting caught unless you think you can win. I *so* wouldnt announce myself if i didnt know it wasnt’ actually anyone there. Or if you guys werent here. Pops was deeper than ‘feel it in your bones.’” Switching from poking with claws to digging them in and *pulling* Shou kept at his antics at bothering Seri into paying attention. “Come *on* youre the only one that hasn’t done it. And youre the *biggest*, come oooonnnn.” Shou flopped on top of Seri and flailed dramatically as he held the whine longer than humanly possible. “We dont live over here shou, and there isn’t actually anyone there to hear it.” “*That’s the point* it’s just us. It’s not like the *space* police are going to get you.” Shou glanced over at Reigen. “He’d have to eat more veggies than burgers if he ever wanted to pick you up.” “HEY, i resembl- *resent* that statement. So if’s it’s not ‘hello’ than what *does* it mean?” Shou grinned as the final rocket launched and *boomed*. “*POLO*” ~~almost could end it here~~

Epilogue --

  Packing the cars was much simpler with only the bedding to toss in. The park may have had a ‘carry in, carry out’ policy, but trash had a habit of disappearing after reigen’s cluster of starkids had last doubled. Reigen did one last head count and coming up short on the shortest one, only for ritsu to tap the green jacket in his lap as shou sprawled over the laps of everyone in the back. “It’s a miracle, Shou actually *sleeps*.” Only for his head to pop back up and hazily face reigen’s voice, and then drop back into Ritsu’ lap.  Teru was already passed out and was leaning on mob’s sholder. “Well it was *almost* a miracle.” Seri shook his head. “You can find him tucked into places all over, i think the real miracle would be if he actually slept in his own bed. Im just glad i’ve been finding him in the house more often.” Somewhere off in the woods near the highway another few fireworks lit up the horizon. “So we never did hear what your ‘polo’ was.” “OH, um sorry? I’m not really good with most Starsong-” Shou rolled over and gave a softer version of the sound he made from before, now more recognizable as the  ‘pop’ of a fireplace. The sound of a water hitting a stone cliff at *just* the right angle followed it as Seri covered his reddening face with his hands. The silence that followed was only broken by the snickering from Shou attempting to repeat it with the *distinctive* sound of a soaked towel slapping against a wall.  Reigen bit back his own laughter as he looked between Seri and the road. “*THAT* was the most *inelegant* sound i have ever heard you make.  They’re normally so *serene*.” “It’s. They’re just white noise really. Theyre not that nice.” “Are you kidding? There’s a reason people have hours of recordings waves and noise. Theyre *peaceful*.” Half letting go of the wheel, Reigen started conducting the sounds. “That Shooosh *swisssh*, the bubbly purr you do when you do that thing where you twist your tail when your nervous. That rush of roaring water you make when you angry is terrifying but i like that one too.” “You *like* those sounds?” “Hey, i like them too. I wouldnt copy them if i didnt!” “Shou you made fart noises for the first hour of the car ride, i thought you just liked to copy the most annoying things you hear.”

“Well yeah, *i like them*. Your’s arn’t annoying, it’s your *sound*. Do you know how hard it is to change accents?” “Um, harder than learning a new language?” “Yep, and that’s your’s.” Shou broke off with a squeak of a yawn. “Reigen’s isnt as nice tho, can you keep it down?” “Sure it’s late anyway.” “Oh um Reigen? Could you not tell T? He can be a bit insistent about the alien stuff.” “No problem, he’s just like that with everything it’s his job and his life, 24/7. Tell him no and he backs off, he’s good with lines.  Just dont tell him i was the one that ate those burgers i flipped off the grill.” “deal.”

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