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toosicktoocare · 4 years

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prompt: Oh my gosh i am so so so so happy that youre finally writing for the Batfam!!!! Ive been following you for awhile now and I'm glad that youve fell into the rabbit hole that is thos crazy family😂 For a prompt, how about Jason and Dick taking care of each other at home when theyre both in varying degrees of sick? Your last fic was amazing and I love your group writing. Have a great day

I’m glad you like my group writing because I STRUGGLE to write more than one person honestly, lol

Jason’s dragging his feet around the small convenience store, too tired to move, his muscles melting to hot, thick goo. He’s been fighting a cold for the better half of two days now, having picked one up from a sick kid taking residence in one of his shelters, and normally, he’d isolate himself in one of his safe houses for a few days to sleep off the cold, but with his shelters expanding outside of Gotham to Bludhaven, he’s too busy interviewing for team leaders and security to temporarily remove himself from the world.

Instead, he’s reduced to a sniffling, shivery mess of a man who’s wandering a convenience store in Bludhaven at 1 AM. His head is hot and feeling like it’s stuffed to the brim with cotton. His concentration is waning under the thick, pounding pressure in his head, slowing his thoughts down to basic, one-word sentences as he scans the shelf for medicine, hoping for a concoction that will kick this cold square in the ass.

“Jason?”

Jason was willingly taking his time, prolonging the inevitable bike ride back to Gotham; however, the sudden, incredibly unwanted, presence of one pesky bird tightens his muscles and clears his head enough to move faster.

“Dick,” Jason says, keeping his eyes glued to the shelf. “What a pleasant surprise,” he adds flatly, groaning when he spots Dick, with his badge on full display, walking toward him through his peripherals.

“What are you doing in Bludhaven?”

Jason sighs deep in his throat, the breathing coming off as a muted growl. He grabs a bottle of fever reducers and snags a few other bottles of varying medicines before he turns toward Dick. “Business.”

Dick cocks his head to the side, a small frown playing at his lips. “What business?”

“I’m sorry,” Jason bites out, “is this an interrogation, Officer Grayson?” His eyes find Dick’s badge, sharp, narrow, and incredibly annoyed.

Dick deflates before him, pocketing his badge with a few coughs. “No, sorry. Habit. Will you be here long?”

“I was just leaving,” Jason grumbles, though the second he turns on his heel, his body decides to remind him of the fucking fever he’s been running, and he stumbles, vision tunneling for a breath of a moment but just enough to have Dick wrapping quick hands around his arms to steady him.

“Woah, Jay, you okay?” Dick’s pulling Jason back to him, guiding him around until they are facing, and Jason can’t fight off the annoyingly strong grip, his body too weak under the weight of this persistent cold.

“Peachy,” he gripes out, jaw clenched tightly, and he holds Dick’s narrow, worried gaze with his own tight one, only moving to slap Dick’s hand away before Dick can press a palm to his forehead.

“Jason.”

“Dick Brain,” Jason sighs, shoulders slumping. “You can save the puppy dog look for one of the other bats. I’m fine.”

“You’re sick,” Dick presses, following Jason to the cash register.

“Yep,” Jason mutters, dropping the medicine bottles onto the counter. “It happens.” Dick muffles a few coughs behind him, and he peers over his shoulder, arching one brow.

“Bug going around the office,” Dick explains, clearing his throat. “Are you driving back to Gotham?” He follows Jason out of the store, and Jason sighs long and loud, free hand dropping to his bike seat.

“That’s the plan.”

“Why don’t you come back to mine? Just for the night. You look terrible.” Dick means every word, the instinctive pull of older brother is bleeding into his voice. Jason’s pale before him, but even with the dull, flickering street light serving as the only source of light before them, he can still see two splashes or unnatural red coloring Jason’s cheeks.

“And watch you stumble around trying to play nursemaid? Not exactly on my list of things to do.” Jason thumbs at his bike helmet, wishing he could will this conversation to end faster.

“Jay, I don’t think riding back to Gotham in your condition is a good idea.”

Rolling his eyes, Jason slips his helmet over his head and swings his leg over his bike, tucking the pill bottles into his jacket pockets. “Good thing bad ideas are kinda my forte.” He twists his key into the ignition, revving his bike loudly. “Later Golden Boy. Go get some rest. The sickly pale look doesn’t suit you.” He shoots forward, probably a little too fast, but the quicker he can forget about this small encounter, the better.

***

Jason makes it ten minutes outside of Bludhaven before he turns around, underestimating the ill affects his fever has on his vision. After almost flipping into a ditch three separate times when his vision frayed gray, he slows his bike into a U-Turn and starts toward the damn address etched in his brain, something he’s tried to forget but actively cannot.

It takes another fifteen minutes until he’s pulling up to Dick’s apartment and another ten to climb on jello legs up the two flights of stairs to Dick’s door. Forgetting it’s nearing 2 AM, he curls his hand into a fist and bangs against the door.

He hears coughing on the other end, growing louder, and then the door’s pulled open, and a gun’s pointed at his face.

Dick blinks slowly, eyes still riddled with sleep but hand frighteningly steady around the gun.

“Jason?”

“How come when I even look at a gun, I get lectured, but you have a guest stare down a barrel?”

Dick’s hand falls, clicking the safety of the gun on its way down. “Shit, sorry.” Frowning, he drags his gaze across Jason’s face. “You must really feel like crap if you’re actually taking my offer.”

Jason groans and shoves past Dick, legs wobbly but determined to get to the couch before he crumbles to the floor. “I figured your couch would be just a little better than a fucking ditch.” He sags against the couch, head rolling back and eyes fluttering closed, only opening when a palm brushes across his forehead.

“Shit, Jay, you’re really burning up.”

Jason feels the couch dip beside him, and he groans low in his throat, coughing weakly. “Just a cold.”

“You really believe that?” Dick sighs, nudging Jason with his elbow until Jason’s curling onto his side, fully reclined on the couch. He reaches for a blanket draped across the back of the couch and tucks it around Jason, worry spiking when Jason doesn’t try and stop him.

“No,” Jason says flatly, “but I do believe that you should shut the fuck up.”

“Well you’re still an ass, so I guess that means you aren’t dying.”

“Again,” Jason grumbles, succumbing, already, to the thick layer of fatigue coating him.

Wincing, Dick slips to his feet, arms wrapping around himself. “Sorry, I...”

“‘S fine,” Jason slurs, one eye slitting open. “Go sleep or some shit. You look like hell.” He nods off, face relaxing, and Dick lingers for a long minute, just watching, an older brother thing, he guesses.

He only breaks his gaze when a dull cramp twists in his stomach, and he shuffles to his room, closing his door and flopping onto his bed.

***

Jason’s dreams are fitful, filled with hot, suffocating memories of the Joker, the Lazarus Pit, green hair turning toward green sparks of rage that dwell within him. He’s not sure what wakes him, but he’s thankful for it, his heart rapid fire in his chest, his clothes sticky and damp with sweat. He finds a now warm cloth on his forehead, and he pulls it off, frowning, mind thick and hazy.

He hears a loud gag and winces, pulling a slow gaze to the hallway and spotting the bathroom door closed. He’s even slower to his feet, his head feeling simultaneously too heavy and too light as he stumbles across the room and to the hall, stopping at the bathroom door. It’s gone quiet on the other side, too quiet. He knocks, swallowing back a spike of tension.

“Yo, Golden Boy. You still alive?”

He can hear ragged breathing, but then he hears a thump, and his heart threatens to climb up his throat. “Dick?” he tries, knocking again. Every inch of him feels wrong when he still doesn’t get an answer, and he takes a few steps back and slams his foot high into the door, wood cracking under the force as the door flies open.

Dick’s pulling himself up to his feet, bracing himself against the edge of the sink. He pulls a too pale face over his shoulder, frowning. “The door was unlocked.”

“You didn’t answer,” Jason growls, stepping into the room, grimacing at the toilet.

“Do you normally not try doorknobs first?”

“What kind of a brother would I be if I didn’t dramatically bust in to save you?”

Dick’s face falls to pure, vulnerable surprise, and Jason groans, rubbing at his temples as he shoves Dick to the edge of the tub to fill a glass of water for him.

“Fuck, I said the sacred word, and now you’re short circuiting.” His tone is flat as he offers the glass of water to Dick, who absently takes it, still slack jaw and wide eyed.

“You never say brother.”

“Easy slip up. Just means I’ve been hanging around you too long already.” He kicks Dick’s foot lightly. “Drink.”

Dick sips the water, the adrenaline subsiding until he’s only shivering slightly.

“Have you been throwing up? Before this?”

Dick shakes his head. “New development.” He eyes Jason’s damp face, cheeks still too red for his liking. “How’s the fever? I thought I was going to have to drag you to the hospital a couple of hours ago.”

Jason can still feel heat under his finger tips. He’s still exhausted, but his mind is a fraction clearer, so he takes that as a good sign he’s on the mend, if only slightly. “Still pretty high, but it’s going down.”

“Good,” Dick breathes, relief smoothing across his worn features. “I was worried.”

“Ugh, stop before I throw up next.” Jason drags out each word, hunching over to smooth a palm across Dick’s forehead, finding it warm to the touch but not alarmingly so. “Finish the water then go back to bed.” He turns to leave, wincing at the damaged door.

“I’ll fix this,” he mutters, and Dick laughs lightly, falling into a few coughs.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

#batman #batfam #batbros #batfamily #sickfic #whump #whumpfic #jason todd #dick grayson #red hood #nightwing #dcu #my writing #my batfam writing #i'm rewatching yj and i'm on season 3 already #ready for s4 #ready for s4 to be about fucking Jason or so help me

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ts-unpopular-opinions · 4 years

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Side Tracks opinions part 1: Janus

(Yes I’m staring with Janus and going backwards, I just need to talk about this snake man right now!)

Alright, I’ve seen lots of people give their takes on each of the sides playlists, and honestly... I feel like they’re not all that similar to my interpretations. I mean yes anyone can interpret the songs how they’d like, but some people just flat out ignore canon to see the songs as their ship instead of what I believe they are actually meant to be seen as. Anyways... Janus! Yes let’s go through each song one by one 💛

1) Black Hole Sun: I’ll admit this one was hard for me. The song is obviously so Janus, with plenty of references to snakes and lying, but I can’t seem to put a finger on the exact meaning. If I had to guess, it’s showing Janus’ fist instance of fearing society. He’s realized that the world is not a safe place for Thomas and no one can be trusted (“Times are gone for honest men” “no one sings like you anymore”). He longs for the ignorance of childhood when society didn’t seem to pose a threat and Thomas wasn’t aware of the dangers and lies it held, but he knows that someone has to protect him from it, and that is Janus (“my youth I pray to keep” “hang my head, drown my fear”).

2) Seemed the Better Way: To me, this is a song about Janus knowing his place as a dark side and knowing that the others will not listen to him (“I better hold my tongue” “better take my place”). He initially trusts the core sides to do what needs to be done and take care of Thomas adequately, but when he realizes that it isnt enough, he finds it hard to keep in hiding (“Seemed the better way” “now it’s much too late to turn the other cheek”).

3) Anywhere: A BIG middle finger to society (“It’s a beautiful world, if youve been lied to” “No no no, nothing in this world is beautiful”). Janus basically trusts no one in society, not even the people closest to Thomas because he believes that everyone will do whatever it takes to get what they want (“Every man standing on another man’s back”). He also believes that society has been a huge detriment to Thomas and, AGAIN, is very dangerous (“It’s the world’s excuse for being disfigured and lying to you”).

4) Talking at the same time: This song is about Virgil. The song begins with explaining that a hard time for one person can be a triumph for another in multiple different metaphors (“Umbrellas cost more in the rain” “hard times for some, for others its sweet” “someone makes money when theres blood in the street”). The next part of the song practically shoves it in your face that it’s about virgil leaving (“Well she told me she would leave me, I ignored all the signs” “I know you're leaving and there's no more next time”). Janus was clearly hurt by Virgil leaving and it seems like he was almost in denial about it happening. A line near the end of the song that I found particularly interesting was “Well we bailed out all the millionaires, They've got the fruit, We've got the rind”. This line to me shows that Janus and the other dark sides let Virgil go, possibly in an attempt to get all of the dark sides accepted. Virgil capitalized on this opportunity and of course, got accepted, however, he left the others behind. Despite wanting Virgil to get accepted by the light sides, Janus remains bitter that Virgil was the only one. Virgil got the fruit, and the rest of the dark sides got the rind.

5) All the Good Girls go to Hell: Janus believes that Thomas needs to listen to him if he is going to stay safe and healthy. He thinks that his assistance, above all other sides, expecially Patton, is crucial for survival in this messed up world. (“And once the water starts to rise, And heaven's out of sight, She'll want the devil on her team” “Look at you needing me”). You’ll find it a common theme in this playlist that Janus refers to himself as the devil or an evil entity of some sort... Just thought I’d point that out.

6) Denial: Well, its in the title folks! Thomas is (or was) in denial. Janus is aware of the moments when Thomas thinks about consulting him or using one of his functions, but almost as soon as he gets the idea, he drops it and acts like the thought never happened (“Don't just shut your eyes closed” “You know that I can hear you thinking, I've heard you all the way from here, But if I look you in the eye though, It's like your thoughts all disappear”). Thomas is struggling for answers to questions that only Janus can answer, but he refuses to listen to consult him and Janus desperately wants this to stop (“I know you're looking for direction, I know where you wanna go” “Please don't turn the light out, I don't think the conversation's over”).

7) Trust in Me: Obviously, the original song has much more sinister undertones, but when listening to the song from Janus’ perspective, I get a different vibe. Basically, Janus just wants Thomas to trust him and give him more reign over decision making. Not much for this one.

8) Razzle Dazzle: JANUS IS EXTRA! Is anyone shocked? Also a HUGE showman. But again, no one’s surprised. Janus believes that the only way to get the light sides to listen to him is to practically put on a show to cover up whatever his true intentions are (“How can they see with sequins in their eyes?” “Razzle dazzle 'em And theyll never catch wise!” “How can they hear the truth above the roar?”) I could keep listing lines but theyre literally all just different versions of the same sentiment.

9) When the Chips are Down: The title right off the bat shows that, again, Janus believes that Thomas needs to look to him when important decisions are on the line. There are also a lump sum of jabs at patton in this song, lines like “Aim for the heart, shoot to kill” and “Cast your eyes to heaven, You get a knife in the back”. Theres also a lot of lines, yet again, of Janus practically begging Thomas to trust him and no one else (“Ain't nobody but yourself to trust” “Help yourself, To hell with the rest, Even the one who loves you best”).

10) Mandy goes to Med School: Soooo this one... Honestly, I don’t really have a lot. The original meaning of the song is not very applicable to Janus, so its a bit hard to pinpoint its meaning. The only thing I can think of is that Janus is again hating on society and the crazy things that people have to go through in it. If you weren’t aware, this song is about coat-hanger abortions.

11) I put a Spell on You: This one seems pretty striaghtforward to me. Janus knows that Thomas doesn’t want him, and it drives him up the wall, but he does what a snake boi does and slithers his way in anyways (“And I don't care if you don't want me, I'm yours right now” “I can't stand it 'cause you put me down”). I suppose you could argue that you could replace Thomas with Patton (mostly because daddy is used like 10 times in the song 😂) but a later song covers their realtionship extremely well.

12) Evil Night Together: Another toughie. My gut feeling is that this is a song about Remus and Janus just going out and having a wild night together. As I read into the lyrics more, though, it seems almost like Janus is doing this for Remus. Like he wants Remus to feel accepted and loved by him (something that can’t be said by Thomas). I just can’t read some of these lines without getting big Momceit vibes... i mean... theyre so supportive! “I'll hold your hand while they drag the river” “I'll cuddle you in the undertow” “I'll hold you close while they dust for prints”. Then theres of course this line... “Who's gonna make you a hero?” And to me, that is Janus saying that, if Thomas only sees Roman as his hero and not Remus, then it is Janus’ job to make Remus feel like a hero. Janus also saying “No need for cake or flowers” also feels like him reassuring Remus that he doesn’t need to be like his brother to be perfect and loved.

13) Don’t tell Mama: I think I’ve seen some people interpreting “mama” as Thomas in this song, but to me Patton seems like a better fit, especially after their interactions in the most recent episode. Basically this song is all about how Janus doesn’t mind people knowing about the bad things he does, but he can absolutely not have one person know. Janus seems to have grown a soft spot for Patton in the new episode and if you ask me, he would definately not want patton finding out about some of immoral things he’s wanted Thomas to do. I mean he literally waits for Patton to sink out and then the second he’s gone he starts scheming about pushing people down stairs and sabotage.

14) You’re a Cad: Another Virgil one, but this time it’s after Virgil’s acceptance. I think Janus has little faith in the beginning that Virgil would get far in his journey to the light side. Whether that is because of envy or just plain pessimism, I’m not sure, but he definately doubted Virgil would ever be able to escape his past (“So now you want the whole world to notice that you've come around, Now you expect, We'll see how you're really so much better now, But I know the truth” “What's the point pretending that you could be a better man, Just give in, since you always end up right back where you began”). Despite his reluctance to support Virgil’s endevors, Janus shows a softer side for Virgil that has gone completely untalked about in canon (“You're a rascal and a rogue, a villain and a crook, Still I tug at your line, I'm a fish on your hook” “Still I know the truth, but I have a sweet tooth for a Cad and a bounder, a dog and a cheap”). Janus really misses Virgil and I would go as far as to say that he regrets the things that he’s done to make Virgil want to leave (“I should be better, but I'm worse” “You're reckless with my heart, still I wait by the phone”).

15) As far as I can See: A sadie but a goodie. Janus doesn’t really understand love, but he’s sure that no one loves him (“As far as I can see Nobody loves me”). No one listens to him, no matter how much he shouts and cries. He doesn’t believe that anyone could love him if they are unwilling to hear him out and communicate with him (“As far as I can see, Nobody's listening” “And when I'm crying out, Nobody cries back for me”).

16) Criminal: AH MY FAVORITE SONG ON THE PLAYLIST! I LEGIT CRIED MY GUYS! Anyway. Janus LOVES Thomas. I would go as far to say that Janus loves Thomas more than any other side. Despite his lacking knowledge of love and what it feels like, he knows for a fact that what he feels for Thomas is the closest thing he will feel to love (“Because he's all I ever knew of love”). Now that thats out of the way, lets get to the juicy stuff... Janus feels like a criminal as he’s been taught over and over again that his opinions and thoughts are bad and harmful (“Cause I'm feelin' like a criminal” “I've done wrong and I wanna suffer for my sins”) This song is ultimately about Janus wanting to improve for Thomas, the one he loves the most. He knows that Thomas needs him, and the only way to get Thomas to listen is to get some help. Whose that help you might ask? Patton. Janus wants to be more helpful, but he doesnt know how. He’s envious of Patton’s ability to be accepted so easily, so he goes to him for advice (“I've come to you cause I need guidance to be true, And I just don't know where I can begin”). Janus wants to be redeemed in Thomas’ eyes, he wan’ts to escape the criminal appearance he’s been doomed to (“And I need to be redeemed, To the one I've sinned against”). He HATES some of the things he does to Thomas and some of the things he makes him think, but he doesn’t want to be forgiven, he believes that he deserves to be punished, but he still wants to get better for Thomas. He just doesn’t know how to do that (“Oh help me, but don't tell me to deny it, I've got to cleanse myself Of all these lies til I'm good enough for him”). Also, Janus sees Patton in a very very high place. He goes as far in this song to liken him to an angel while comparing himself, again, to the devil (“So what would an angel say, The devil wants to know”).

17) Change: The song is about, you guessed it, change! This to me is a continuation of the last song. Janus finally feels like things are changing in his favor (likely after the most recent episode). He was beginning to feel like there was no point in caring or trying, but now that he’s begining to see the light, he’s grown a bit hopeful (“Lately I've been thinking it's just someone else's job to care, Who am I to sympathize when no one gave a damn?” “Trying to find the power in me to be faithful” “Change is a powerful thing, I feel it coming in me”). With Patton’s help and acceptance, Janus is begining to feel worthy of Thomas again and begining to see the he has a voice (“Maybe by the time this song is done I’ll be able to be honest, capable, Of holding you in my arms without letting you fall when I don't feel beautiful Or stable”).

18) Devil in the Details: Janus worries again about his ability to help Thomas. He doesn’t believe that he can tell the difference between good and bad and he looks to Patton for that differentiation (“There was love I meant, there were accidents, So tell me which is which. 'Cause I just can't work it out” “I have, no way, of knowing,…”). There’s also an odd underlying message about doing something that he doesn’t want to do, but continues to do despite this and I’m not quite sure what that could be referring to (“And I know the cost, and I want to stop. But I can't do it, I just can't do it.”). It could simply be referring to him lying or deceiving others, but that seems too simple. I wish I had a better answer.

19) Come Little Children: ALSO MY FAVORITE SONG ON THE PLAYLIST! This is really big guys. This song practically confirms the fact that Janus was in charge of taking in and hiding the dark sides from Thomas (“Come little children, I'll take thee away Into a land of enchantment”). The song literally uses the phrase “My garden of shadows”, a clear metaphor for the hidden parts of Thomas’ mind where Janus keeps the dark sides. But it gets better... Janus pities these poor sides. He hates the way that society has forced them away from the light and into the shadows (“Follow sweet children, I'll show thee the way Through all the pain And the sorrows”). Not only does Janus feel bad for these sides and longs to protect them from the cruelness of the real world, but he LOVES them. He values every aspect of them and thinks they are beautiful and perfect. He cannot fathom why society wouldn’t also love see them this way and it frustrates him to hide such amazing traits from the world (“Weep not poor children For life is this way, Murdering beauty and passions”). Despite this sadness and dissapointment, Janus does his job and keeps the dark sides hidden away, knowing that society would never accept them for what they are (“Hush now dear children, It must be this way”).

20) Into the Unknown (no not the Frozen song): This song is VERY IMPORTANT. I have seen so many misinterpretations of this song, and granted mine could also be wrong, but please hear me out. This song comes right after the last song for a reason. The sides that Janus had once hidden away are now being shown to Thomas. He is literally going into the unknown (“Led through the mist, By the milk-light of moon, All that was lost, is revealed.” “Somewhere lost in the clouded annals of history, Lies a place that few have seen. A mysterious place, called The Unknown. Where long-forgotten stories are revealed to those who travel through the wood.”) Thomas is figuratively traveling through the wood by learning more about himself and traveling deeper into Janus’ previously mentioned Garden of Shadows. The song ends, beautifully framing Janus’ love for the sides he’s raised and hidden away, calling them “ The loveliest lies of all”....

(Ahhh! I’m sorry that was so long guys 😅 Thank you if you read the whole thing or evern part! I’d like to hear your opinions, so let me know 💛💛💛)

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #ts sanders sides #ts unpopular opinions #ts janus #janus sanders #janus playlist #ts side tracks #janus’ playlist #sanders sides playlist #long post #ts sidetracks

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rosedavid · 4 years

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Summer-Salt

word count: 4,657

summary: the past comes back to haunt TJ and Cyrus when Andi announces her big Halloween bash she’s planning.

tag list: @youve-cath-to-be-kitten-me

Happy Halloween everyone!! I hope you all enjoy this one-shot that’s been a long time coming :) Also this is unedited, so I apologize!

...

“What did Andi’s text say again?” TJ questions as he gets tugged along the sidewalk by a persistent, fast-paced Cyrus.

“She just said something like, ‘Meet at The Spoon ASAP! It’s of the upmost importance!’” Cyrus replies, doing a terrible impression of her voice.

“First of all, I don’t think Andi says things like ‘of the upmost importance’! You’re the only one who uses words as fancy as that. Second, she definitely does not sound like that.”

Cyrus rolls his eyes, purposefully knocking his shoulder against TJ’s shoulder as they continue walking. TJ chuckles in response to his boyfriend’s antics, bumping his shoulder back. Meanwhile, Cyrus sticks his chin out defiantly before retaliating to TJ’s comments.

“I don’t use fancy words,” he debates, “I just prefer proper grammar when conversing with someone. Also, my accents and imitations are spot on, thank you very much.”

“Conversing with someone,” TJ snickers. “You’re adorable.”

Cyrus sputters, face reddening. “Is that all you got out of what I just said?!”

“Sorry, Underdog, I can’t help it. Honestly though, that impression was…not great. I would not have guessed Andi if I didn’t know who texted.”

“Who would you have guessed?”

“Uh…Jonah, maybe?”

Cyrus pretends to look offended, but he can’t keep his composure for long before descending into giggles. TJ smiles and laughs along with him, unable to resist the fluttery feeling that flows through him as a result of their bantering. When they officially announced their feelings for each other on the bench at Andi’s party a few months ago, TJ was terrified that things would change significantly between them. He worried that, like some of the stories you hear about, they were potentially ruining their friendship. His fears only intensified after their first, extremely awkward date. Thankfully, the initial awkwardness and tension between them faded rapidly after they both stopped placing so much pressure on themselves, and they quickly fell back into their normal routine with each other (except this time with their feelings toward each other known and reciprocated).

Now, TJ feels more at ease than ever. The conflict that was previously raging inside of him has simmered down, allowing him to be more comfortable in his skin than ever. And he knows that without Cyrus here, he would probably still be the Scary-Basketball-Guy that Cyrus first knew him as. Many times, TJ finds himself pondering what his life would be like if he never interacted with Cyrus. Although there’s no real way to know, TJ thinks that there’s no way he would have progressed this far. On days like those, TJ looks over at Cyrus to confirm that it’s all real; that everything that happened in the past months between them wasn’t just a sick, twisted dream.

“Come on, dork, we’re already running late!” Cyrus laughs, yanking on his hand with an even stronger grasp.

“If anything, you’re the dork with your big words,” TJ replies.

“Says Mr. I Know Every Line in Hamilton.”

“Of course I do! That play is more than just a play: It’s an experience!”

They stumble through the door of The Spoon a few seconds later, still calming down from their giggling. Immediately, they spot the group in their usual corner booth (the only booth in the entire diner big enough to fit their vastly expanding friend group). However, they also quickly notice that the group is lacking one key person. They make their way over to the others, hands still linked. Once they get over there, they take a seat beside Jonah, with Buffy and Marty sitting across from them.

“There are the lovebirds!” Buffy teases, something she says almost every time she sees the duo together now. Despite the frequency, TJ knows that both of them still blush slightly whenever she says it.

“Yeah, sorry we’re late. We were in the middle of a movie which turned into an impromptu nap,” Cyrus apologizes.

TJ adds on, “You mean your nap. I was still awake the whole time acting as your pillow!”

“Why are you so tired, man?” Marty asks Cyrus.

“Ugh, well it all started with our math teacher assigning a ridiculous amount of homework...” Cyrus begins, delving into the long story he told TJ just this morning over text. TJ couldn’t understand how he typed it out so fast, either, but he had a feeling that Cyrus had just loaded up on coffee, causing the crash he witnessed just a little bit ago.

As Cyrus recounts his story, TJ zones out a bit. Instead, he focuses on the way Cyrus’s eyes light up avidly, hands swishing around and almost hitting TJ in the face a few times. His exuberance is contagious, as TJ finds himself unable to prevent the beam from spreading across his face alongside the others.

“That sucks,” Jonah comments once the story is over. “I hope you can actually get some sleep soon.”

“Me too,” Cyrus sighs, slumping over in his seat. “When I get home, I’m going to take another nap I think.”

“That sounds great if Andi would ever get here,” Buffy frowns, checking the time on her phone again. “She texted nearly half an hour ago saying it was so urgent, yet she isn’t even here yet!”

“What do you think the text was about, anyway?” Jonah wonders, to which everyone at the table shrugs.

Before they can continue on their conversation, Andi finally arrives. She bursts through the door, nearly tripping and falling before a certain blonde waitress steadies her. In Andi’s arms is a gigantic container teeming with what appears to be random objects. TJ is amazed that everything managed to stay inside the container despite her stumble. With Amber in tow, the two of them come up to the booth. Amber stands off to Andi’s side warily as she carries the teetering container. Finally, Andi drops it down onto the floor with an echoing thud. She huffs, wiping her hands of on her jeans before offering everyone an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, it took me longer than I thought to lug this here,” Andi states, squeezing into the booth beside everyone.

“Amber, thank goodness you’re here--” Cyrus sighs in relief.

Amber smiles at him, “Wow Cyrus, that’s really sweet of you to say!”

“—I need baby taters right now. It’s a matter of life and death itself!”

Amber rolls her eyes, flipping out her notebook and scribbling baby taters down. Cyrus, on the other hand, goes as white as a ghost, suddenly terrified that he offended her. After all, she appears furious.

“I’m sorry, Amber! I am really glad you’re here, even without the baby tater part.”

Amber’s expression morphs from one of anger to one of humor in an instant. She waves it off. “It’s fine, Cyrus. I know. Also, I already started your baby taters right when I saw you come in. I’ll go get them right now”

“You’re amazing.”

Andi clears her throat, calling the attention back to her. “Sorry, but this is really important.”

“I’m still confused,” Jonah admits, peering over the table at the container on the floor. “What exactly is this all for?”

“You’re kidding, right? Don’t you know what day it is?”

“October 3rd,” TJ offers, descending into snickers with Cyrus and the others.

“No, seriously. Do none of you remember?” Andi asks with disbelief, looking over all the individual members of the table.

“Uh…is it someone’s birthday?” Jonah asks, stilling. “Wait, is it my birthday?!”

A frustrated sigh escapes Andi’s lips. “No, Jonah, your birthday was a few months ago. Guys, it’s officially one week before Halloween!”

TJ frowns, having completely forgotten about the holiday coming up so soon. He supposes that he’s just been so preoccupied with his first year of high school as well as his relationship with Cyrus that he just forgot. Not to mention, he’s been swamped with homework recently to prepare for midterms, so all he’s had on his mind have been math formulas and history dates. Basketball has also been taxing this year; finding his spot on the team with new dynamics has been difficult. As he glances over at Cyrus, he looks just as shocked to remember about Halloween. TJ knows for a fact that Cyrus has been working nonstop recently for all his honors classes he’s been taking this semester.

“Oh,” Buffy states, summing up pretty much what all of them are currently thinking.

“Oh? Just…oh?! You all forgot about Halloween, one of the best holidays of the year!” Andi groans, throwing her hands up in frustration.

“We didn’t forget…we just temporarily spaced it out. After all, Grant Highschool isn’t as decorative and festive as Sava. I think the few spiderwebs they put up at the beginning of the month were torn down within a few days.”

“It looks like we have more work to do than I thought.”

At that moment, Amber returns with the baby taters. Cyrus immediately starts inhaling them, smacking TJ’s hand away when he tries to steal one. Amber then declares she’s on her break before pulling up an extra chair to the end of the booth right beside Andi’s massive container full of miscellaneous objects.

“Work for what?” Amber asks, trying to figure out what she missed.

“The greatest Halloween party ever,” Andi finally announces dramatically.

Cyrus rubs his hands together in excitement. “Another famous Andi Mack party!”

“But this one has to be better than all the last ones,” Andi replies. “It’s even higher stakes now than before. That’s why I’m enlisting all of your help to make sure that it’s going to be an awesome party.”

“What do we need to help with?” Buffy asks.

Andi smirks, reaching down to grab a huge list out of the container full of party ideas. She places it on the table in front of them so they can all read it. Then, she flicks out her duct tape pen, poised to write some more.

“This sounds…amazing!” Cyrus gapes, reading over the list. “Are you sure you need our help? I think this is perfect already.”

“I just need a few things from you all,” Andi begins, “First, Jonah and TJ, I need you two working on putting together a Halloween playlist. I need Amber’s help with setting all the decorations up because Bex and I will never get it done on our own. I also need Buffy and Cyrus to pick up a bunch of stuff at the store for me before the party. Also, bring Marty to get some decent snacks, because I know the two of you would just pick a bunch of gross health foods. But, most importantly, we have to have the best Halloween costumes!”

“Well, what are you going to be?” Buffy wonders, hoping for some inspiration.

Andi shakes her head and mimics a zipper along her lips. “It’s a surprise! But just know it’s going to be amazing! So, I need you all to dress up, too.”

Jonah raises his hand, “Can my costume be Boy Who Plays Guitar?”

“Ugh, yeah, that’s fine,” Andi sighs, knowing she shouldn’t force him to get involved in a more intricate costume. “But I expect great things from everyone else!”

“Don’t worry, I already have the best idea for a couple’s costume for Marty and I,” Buffy gushes.

Marty frowns, nudging her side, “But what if I already had a great idea.”

Buffy looks at him, unimpressed. “Let’s hear it then.”

“I was thinking we could each be a shoe! You be the right, I’ll be the left. We’re a pair, get it?”

Everyone looks at him, unamused, besides for Jonah who laughs at almost everything. Buffy shakes her head in disappointment.

“I was thinking more along the lines of a childhood TV show throwback, like Velma and Shaggy,” Buffy offers.

“You watched Scooby Doo?” TJ asks incredulously, causing Buffy to cross her arms at him.

“You say that as if you don’t still watch it,” Buffy retorts which TJ chuckles at, hands raised up in surrender.

“I’ll go as Princess Peach,” Amber declares, smiling at Andi softly. “After all, I have to look my best for the coolest party in town.”

Andi coughs abruptly, cheeks turning red as she looks over to the remaining two people. “TJ? Cyrus? Can I count on you two?”

TJ glances over at Cyrus, but finds that the other boy is staring down at his lap instead. Since Buffy and Marty are doing a couple’s costume, he assumes that him and Cyrus will do one, too. After all, they’re officially a couple now, as in they’re out at school and to their parents. Plus, matching costumes on Halloween are the pinnacle for couples; it’s usually just expected that you’ll match if you’re dating. So, TJ goes to answer Andi, saying that he and Cyrus will think of a creative couple’s costume.

Before he can respond, though, Cyrus blurts out, “I think my step-dad has an old jumpsuit that I could turn into a ghostbusters costume.”

Across the table, Buffy meets TJ’s eyes, surprise evident in her expression. TJ is also surprised. Why doesn’t Cyrus want to do a costume with him? He frowns, reaching for Cyrus’s hand again but finds that Cyrus moved them both into his pockets. In fact, not only Buffy seems surprised by Cyrus’s decision, but no one comments on it. Andi simply offers him a smile before looking over at TJ.

“What about you, TJ?” she asks.

TJ bites his lip and shrugs. He spares one last glance at Cyrus, who is pointedly looking anywhere but at him. “I’ll figure something cool out, I’m sure.”

The rest of the time talking about the party goes by painstakingly slow for TJ. Cyrus seems to liven back up and get into the conversation, but he still casts his eyes away when TJ looks at him. TJ hates the tension between them at the moment. Although they’re squished up against each other’s sides, TJ still feels like he’s miles away from Cyrus. Normally, TJ and Cyrus have this connection, this spark between them, but right now it’s fizzled out. TJ can’t decipher Cyrus’s emotions as he covers them up behind robotic laughter and half-smiles. Normally, Cyrus is expressive and easy to read; however, TJ just can’t figure out what’s going through his head in that moment. Is he mad at TJ for assuming that they’d do a couple’s costume? Why would he be mad about that, though, since they are a couple?

Finally, after forever, the group goes to dismantle for the day and do their respective tasks. Cyrus slides out of the booth, getting ready to walk home with Jonah, but TJ catches his wrist before he leaves.

“Can we talk for a second?” TJ questions.

Cyrus purses his lips before nodding, sitting back down at the booth as Jonah follows the others to wait outside for him. Now, it’s just the two of them alone together. Based on Cyrus’s lack of chattiness, TJ has a feeling that Cyrus knows why he stopped him.

“Why don’t you want to do a couple’s costume with me? I mean, we are a couple, right? Or do you not want to be—”

“Of course we’re a couple, Teej,” Cyrus promises, grasping his hand resting on his lap with a comforting squeeze.

TJ smiles, feeling at least a bit more relieved but also more confused. “I-I don’t understand, then. I just figured since Buffy and Marty are doing a couple’s costume that, y’know, we would do one, too.”

The smile drops off Cyrus’s face as he lets out a deep sigh. He rubs the back of his neck with a ducked head as he tries to think of what to say. TJ begins to run through all the possible reasons Cyrus is acting this way. The shaking leg, uncomfortable gait, inability to explain himself, the dejected look on his face…

“I’m sorry, just after Costume Day—” Cyrus stammers, voice shaking. “I just can’t.”

TJ’s heart drops in his chest. “Cy, I would never do that again, I swear. I’m sorry.”

“I-I know, really, but I still can’t get over that feeling I had on Costume Day. And then before with Jonah…I don’t know how to explain it, but I just can’t match with you. I’m sorry.”

Then, Cyrus stands up abruptly, barely even flinching as his knee hits the edge of the table. He checks the time on his phone, then looks out the window at where Jonah is still waiting. TJ stands up beside him, not wanting to leave things like this.

“I understand,” TJ finally whispers, staring at his shoes.

Cyrus smiles wearily, although the usual twinkle present in his eyes has vanished. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah.”

Cyrus offers another quick hand squeeze before jogging out the door to catch up with Jonah. Meanwhile, TJ is left there frozen, still contemplating everything that just occurred.

TJ knew that he hurt Cyrus, and he still feels guilty about it every day, but he never knew that his actions had that huge of an impact on Cyrus. Thinking about it now, it seems stupid that TJ didn’t think about it before. At first, TJ got upset with the idea that Cyrus thought he would bail again. After all, things are so different, now, and Cyrus knows that. But then, as TJ thinks about it more and more, he begins to understand. That look of dejection Cyrus had earlier, it matched the look on Costume Day. Cyrus trusted him, and he betrayed his trust. But how can TJ even begin to think of winning it back? TJ knows for certain that he can’t just forget about this or it may forever be a hole in their relationship that grows wider and wider each day. He just worries that there’s nothing he can ever do to fix this. After all, he’s already apologized numerous times. What else could he possibly do?

Lunch at school during the next week is more awkward than normal. Although he and Cyrus still act like a couple, holding hands and kissing each other’s cheeks, TJ can’t get over that subtle feeling of tautness between them. It’s like their relationship is a stretched rubber band about to snap. TJ can tell Cyrus feels it, too. In fact, Cyrus has been acting a bit off all the time since the day at The Spoon. He’s been a bit less talkative, although to most people it would seem like nothing is wrong. Andi isn’t really around enough because of SAVA to notice the tiny differences, while Jonah and Marty aren’t clued into Cyrus’s coping strategies. Buffy seems to be the only one scrutinizing Cyrus when he’s not looking. Every late laugh and quiet spell sends Buffy looking at him strangely. She begins to piece it together rather quick, as she notices TJ’s awkward looks on more than one occasion.

Soon, it’s the day before Halloween, and TJ is feeling more down in the dumps than ever. After school that day, he finds himself in one of the places that relieves his stress the most: the basketball courts. He would normally go to the swings, but he doesn’t want to have to face Cyrus there before he can think of some way to make up for everything. Frustration leaks out of him as he shoots the basketball at the hoop with exceeding aggressiveness. He’s not mad at Cyrus at all but rather himself. If he wasn’t such a coward that day, maybe things would be different. Kira coming into the equation just threatened to ruin everything between them, and they’re obviously still reaping the repercussions of her manipulation today. He grunts as he heaves the ball at the hoop as hard as he can, not even caring as it bounces off the backboard and skitters along the pavement. His heartbeat thrums in his ears, and he crouches down to try and calm himself. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, hand running through his sweaty hair.

“TJ?” A familiar voice asks. “Are you okay?”

TJ opens his eyes to see Buffy standing over him with a mild look of concern on her face. His first instinct is to snap back with the classic “I’m fine” method. That definitely worked for him before. He could also pretend like nothing was wrong, going back to playing basketball like normal, but Buffy would see right through that. Then, he thinks about how much he’s changed in just the past couple of months. Blocking things out or covering them up is a common tactic that the old TJ used, but he’s better than that now.

“I don’t know,” TJ admits timidly, dropping from his crouch until he’s completely sitting on the pavement. Buffy hesitates for a moment before sitting down beside him.

“You can talk to me, you know. I know we’re not super close, but you’ve grown on me, Kippen.”

TJ cracks a smile. “Thanks, but I don’t think anyone can help me with this one.”

“Try me.”

Not wanting to go into too much detail, TJ says vaguely, “I apologized to Cyrus for something, and even though he says it’s okay, it’s obviously not. I just don’t know what to do.”

Although there’s hardly any context behind any of it, Buffy appears as if she knows quite a bit more about the situation than she’s letting on. Still, she doesn’t press TJ for more information or even badger him for what he did to Cyrus.

“Apologies are hard, sometimes,” she admits. “I definitely struggle with them a lot of times. But…I’ve found it’s not really the actual words that count, it’s your actions.”

“Your actions…” TJ trails off, a lightbulb suddenly going off in his head. “Actions speak louder than words. That actually helped a lot Buffy, thank you.”

Buffy smiles, “Anytime, TJ. But also, do we have to keep calling each other by our first names? I have to admit, it’s kind of weird.”

“Agreed.”

With a determined look on her face, Buffy jumps up from the ground. She goes over to retrieve the abused basketball from the grass and tucks it under her arm. Then, she walks back over to TJ and offers a hand down to him. “So, Kippen, care for me to beat you at a game of one-on-one?”

TJ chuckles, taking it and letting her haul him to his feet. “In your dreams, Driscoll!”

As he plays, he feels lighter than before. He knows what he needs to do.

…

The next night, TJ arrives at the party just as it’s getting into full swing. It certainly seems to be a hit so far, with what seems like almost all of the students at Grant Highschool coming out to enjoy her party. Even from the outside, the house is decorated head to toe for Halloween, with crafty, spun spiderwebs hung from every corner and giant spiders creeping along them. Strands of Halloween lights illuminate the front yard in an eerie green color, while smoke from what TJ assumes are smoke machines leak out from the door and window cracks inside.

At the last second before stepping into the party, TJ rethinks his entire plan. What if Cyrus still doesn’t forgive him after this? What if Cyrus can never trust him the same way again? TJ doesn’t know if he could stand that. This needs to work. He needs to make this right. As Buffy made him realize, actions speak louder than words, and this is definitely making a statement. With a deep breath, he enters the house.

Inside is even more crazy and spooky. Almost everyone is dressed up in amazing Halloween costumes. Music blasts over the speakers which everyone dances with in excitement. Paper Mache ghosts and ghouls hang from the ceiling, lit up by colorful lights. Carved pumpkins line one wall, and there’s a place to bob for apples. Marty and Buffy are already over there competing, dressed up in their Shaggy and Velma costumes like they planned, although Buffy seems to be getting annoyed by her plastic glasses as she keeps having to push them up her nose. A huge table is lined with spooky punch and a gaggle of monstrous snacks. He has a feeling that Cyrus had a lot to do with some of the baked goods, as he knows how seriously Cyrus takes good presentation.

“TJ?” Andi speaks from behind him, voice just barely audible over the noise of the party. He turns, taking in her costume. She’s dressed as Mulan, and it’s obvious that her costume is hand made because it’s much more beautiful and realistic than any costume. She has a variety of fancy clips in her hair, along with a fake sword tucked into her belt. Amber stands beside her in her Princess Peach outfit, complete with the huge poufy dress and everything.

“Andi,” he breathes, “Great costume! You too, Amber.”

She looks him over with a knowing smirk. “Cyrus is in the backyard.”

TJ blushes, trying to come up with a good response but can’t think of anything. Amber and Andi giggle together before heading the opposite direction, patting him on the shoulders as they go. TJ figures that it’s now or never.

He heads outside where only a few people linger, one of them being Cyrus. He’s sulking in his costume on the very bench they sat at just a few months prior, except the fire is extinguished and replaced with giant pumpkins. TJ pads up behind him.

“You’re missing the party,” TJ states nervously.

Cyrus turns his head, and his eyes widen a comical amount as he takes in the familiar look TJ is sporting. TJ’s wearing the very Salt costume that Cyrus was wearing on Costume Day, colander and all. He looks and feels ridiculous, but he’d wear it for the next week if it meant Cyrus would forgive him.

“You…” Cyrus stutters, still in shock.

“I know that I really hurt you on Costume Day, and I know I needed to make it right somehow. Then, Buffy kind of told me how actions speak louder than words, and I hoped that maybe this would speak for itself?”

Cyrus stands, and a flash of fear courses through TJ as he worries that Cyrus will simply leave again. However, he actually does the exact opposite, and takes a step closer to TJ. They’re so close that they can see each other’s breaths in the cold air. Cyrus reaches up to adjust the colander on TJ’s head so it’s not tipping to one side. TJ quirks his lips up at Cyrus, relief washing over him.

“I can’t believe you did this for me,” Cyrus whispers.

“I’d do it again,” TJ promises. “And again. And again. I just needed you to know how much you really mean to me and how truly sorry I am.”

Dark eyes peer up at him, barely visible past his metal hat. “How could I not forgive anyone who’s willing to wear a colander on his head for me?”

TJ shares a grin with Cyrus. They find themselves inching closer to each other until finally Cyrus brushes his lips against TJ’s own in a soft, loving kiss. TJ relaxes at Cyrus’s touch, and things feel right again between them.

“I’m pretty sure Andi has some kind of cheesy beach shirt here,” Cyrus mentions breathlessly when they separate.

It takes TJ a second before it clicks. “Are you sure? You really don’t have to.”

Cyrus strokes TJ’s cheek with his thumb. “I want to match with you.”

And when Cyrus descends from upstairs wearing a pair of too small flipflops, a oversized beach hat, basketball shorts, and a completely unmatching Hawaiian-themed shirt, TJ can’t hold back his grin. This is how it should’ve been all along, and TJ hates that it took him so long to make up for it. At least now he can say that Summer-Salt is still their thing.

#tyrus #tyrus fanfic #andi mack #andi mack fanfic #tj kippen #cyrus goodman #andi mack fic #tyrus fic #tj x cyrus #cyrus x tj #angst #fluff #halloween #fanfiction

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dadzawa-adopt-dabi · 4 years

Text

everybody knows ch3 (meet cute au)

( so we start getting a little more serious here as we explore what is happening on Shigaraki end and next chapter what Natsou deals with. its important for later promise.)

Shigaraki opens the heavy door to the bar and base. The old building is many things at once for him.None of it feels quite right without Kuroguri there to look after them all.

The old man's presence is missed and not just because he did the house work, SAhigaraki feels the drain of being a leader most days. Spending time with Natsou at the library had become something of a getaway from the stress for him.

Immediately he is greeted with the welcome sound of Twice and Spinner playing a racing game. Screaming at each other and cackling.

“ Don't wreck our friendship! I'm going to do it! Eat blue shell! ” Jin argued with himself as he tried to overtake Shuichi.

“Haha, I'm in first! Wha-Peach no! That bitch just pushed me off the edge and smiled while she did it!” Spinner wails in distress as he’s kicked out of 3rd place.

Shigaraki smiles and toes off his shoes, glad to be home.

“Morning Sako, can you do me a favor? I have an address I would like you to watch for trouble makers hanging around. The owner of the Cafe did us all a favor today.” Sako sleepily takes the piece of paper as he drinks his morning coffee. He walks into what pass’s as their dining room and sets his plant down amongst the normalcy of yesterday’s dirty dishes and Toga’s schoolbooks.

“First person to kill my plant gets decayed.” Shigaraki calls out above the chaos, no one takes the threat seriously,he almost never actually means it. He checks the fridge next and counts the blood bags he has left for Toga. Mentally counting to see when he needs to get more and if she has already had one this morning. He might need to bring one to her room again, if she’s not up yet she’ll probably spend the whole day in there.

“I had my blood today Shiggy! no worries, do you really check everyday? Dabi said you did but i didn't believe him.” Toga came around the corner and saw him looking into the fridge.

“Dabi needs to keep his mouth shut, how are you feeling?” He looks her over. Satisfied with the clear look in her eyes that's been there lately, since she started getting blood regularly, and the fact that her hair was up in her signature buns. Unlike when they first tried having her drink blood regularly, to see if it helped out her blood lust, and couldn't even bring herself to brush the tangles out or wash it.Much less put it up into the complicated looking process of putting into twin messy buns. Magne had offered to cut it short to make the caretaking of it easier but Toga had refused. Shigaraki had learned this theory of quirk therapy through one of the books. It was helping, even if there were some unexpected bumps in the road. There just wasn’t enough research done for people like Toga.

“Im feeling better, it's still weird to me to be able to drink blood whenever I want. It’s, I don't know why but it helps alot. Makes me not as hungry?” Toga tugged on the end of her sweater sleeves. She’s just in jeans and a cat themed sweater for now. One day when it wasn’t dangerous to Toga’s progress or the cats he would take her to the kurama’s cat cafe, she would probably love it. It could be a goal for her to work towards, and if this therapy helped as much as it was supposed too they could even bring one home, he’d figure it.

“Well it looks like you're slowing down on them and I just want to make sure that you're still drinking them when you feel the urge, heat them up if you need to okay? We don't want any baby vampires trying to suck us dry again.” He gently ruffles her hair and goes to wake up Magne.

Him coming home meant it’s time for Magne to get up and have her take over watching the rest of the LoV. Shigaraki usually had errands for Sako to run so it fell to Magne or Dabi. Not errands like robbing a bank. God did Shig wish he just needed a bank robbed and not medicine and groceries bought. Robbing a bank would probably require less planning some weeks.

“Fuck off unless youve got a dam good reson to wake me up.” Magne grouched from inside her room.

“I've got coffee getting started, and Sako has shopping to do.” he patiently waits for her to throw a pillow at the door.

“Cmon Magne, if you get up i'll tell you about my date with the hot library guy.” there was a thump and some banging around as Magne tried to get ready as fast as she could.

“Wait, wait where did you guys even go? I swear to god if me and Sako have to tell kuroguri that you went to some gyys apartment for the whole night and we didnt shadow you i fucking swear Shigaraki.” The rest of her sentence devolved into swearing and items being thrown around.

“We just went to a cafe,calm down, I’ll tell Kuroguri when he comes home.” Shigaraki leaned against the wall, he wasn’t actually going to tell her about natsou. He hadn’t actually told anyone about him yet, Magne just suspected there was someone he was seeing.

“Nice hat Shig.” Dabi had come out of his room and was leaning on the wall beside his door,watching the process of waking Magne up. It was entertaining to him because one or twice Magne had stayed up too late was extra crabby, and used her quirk to throw Shigaraki down the hall. Then went right back into her room to sleep as Dabi cackled and watched.

“Dabi, maybe tease me about my hat when there aren't bright red feathers in your hair and your door is open?” Shigaraki snickered at how fast Dabi spun around and checked to make sure his door was closed while checking his hair for feathers. Being serious though he was worried about the hero in Dabi’s bed more often than not. He was very obviously a spy.

As good as he was to Dabi, to the whole league actually, he was still a spy. A struggling one who hated who he was spying for and took refuge within the base more often than not but still a spy.

“So he spent the night again?” He looked Dabi over, noticing how much more relaxed he seemed and adding ground sausage to his mental grocery list. Hawks didn't eat enough when he wasn't with them, some bullshit about it being weird. Dabi worried over the stress his boyfriend was under a lot. Distracting him from it by antagonizing him was something Shig did often enough.

He hadn't expected to like a hero of all people or feel as protective of him as he did his team. Much less one in the top ten but Keigo made a terrible spy and was just as much of a mess as they were.He had crap sleeping and eating patterns. Dealt with emotions as well as any of them did, he fit right in. So it hadn't been long after meeting that shigaraki had ‘adopted’ him, as toga liked to tease him.

“Is he okay this time?” There had been a couple times where keigo had come in a mess or injured mess.

“He’s fine, get some sleep boss.” Dabi smacks his shoulder and goes to get coffee.

“Evil doesn't sleep, I've got schemes to think up.”Shigaraki smirks and continues down the hallway to his room. It also doubles as his office space.

“You better be sleeping by the time Sako gets back or I'm going to make him give his signature ‘im a single dad of too many kids’ look. And we both know you don’t want that.” Dabi’s voice follows him and Shigaraki flips him off without turning around. He honestly was tired and should get some sleep, but he needed to plan out chores for next week and meal plans and groceries and where to get more blood for Toga. He sighed and added a mental note to ask if her favorite blood type had changed again or it was still the same as last week.

He was tired but he agreed to take care of these people when he agreed to become a leader. Not to mention the whole destroy society thing he still has on the back burner.

@night-owl-1234

#shiganat #shigaraki tomura #natshig #shigarakixnatsou #todoroki natsuo #thedarkonewrites #meetcuteau #everybodyknows #dabihawks #lov as family

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angrylizardjacket · 5 years

Text

when i said it i thought it was true [1] {Ben Hardy}

Anon asked: could you do an imagine where ben is the reader’s ex and they are somehow working together on the set of bo rhap and they fall in love all over again ☺️ could you make it angst-y and then end with fluff? i love your writing so much!!

Anon asked: could you do an imagine where the reader is in bo rhap, maybe playing as one of roger’s gfs or something and she kind of falls in love with ben while filming the scenes with him as roger 💖 very fluffy pls :D

A/N: 3124 words. Super AU version of BoRhap being filmed in the fic. There’s gonna be another part, that will fill the prompts better. This might end up being a series. I hope you enjoy. Feedback would be nice.

When your manager rings you, telling you that you’d landed a part in the Queen Biopic Bohemian Rhapsody, you were elated. Freddie Mercury was a bit of a personal hero of yours, and to be a part of his story on the big screen, it was sort of a dream come true.

In your first meeting, you sign a nondisclosure agreement, and you’re given the latest draft of the script to start learning, as well as a character brief. The script calls your character ‘Amanda’, the girlfriend of Roger Taylor who he eventually realises he wants to settle down with. You’d seen pictures of young Roger Taylor, you wouldn’t lie, you were excited for the role. Honestly, even today he was still quite a fox.

The point is, you were excited to have a fun time on set with a pretty blonde, make some new connections, and earn some good money. Some really good money.

The other shoe drops when you’re flicking through Instagram, and one of the stan accounts you follow has posted a leaked screenshot of the proposed cast list, and there’s your name, right beside the name of the last person you wanted to pretend to be in love with. Ben Hardy; pretty blonde extraordinaire, and your ex-boyfriend.

The table read is... awkward.

The two of you are sat next to each other, and barely spoke two words to each other. You feel unprofessional the whole time, but you’d rather be anywhere else in the world, and the delivery of some of your lines falls a little flat. The director casts a concerned look between yourself and Ben as you rattle of what’s meant to be banter like you’re reading the news paper.

“They’ve got no damn chemistry; it’s like watching a celebrity divorce hearing.” When the Director vents to one of the producers in the hall outside after the reading, you manage to catch it where you’re just about to come out of the bathroom.

“They’ll be better on set, I promise, it’s just jitters.” She tries to soothe his nerves, and they’re off soon after, and you’re left with a cold, sinking sensation in your stomach.

“You’re Y/N, aren’t you? How are you finding the set?” The guy who greets you on your first day on the Eastenders set smiles with such casual ease it feels like you’ve known him for a while, instead of having just met him.

“Yeah, that’s me.” You agree with a quick nod, rocking back on your heels as you gaze around the space, trying not to look at him for too long. “It’s a bit overwhelming.” Actually, what’s overwhelming is that he’s talking to you. He’s Ben fucking Hardy, pretty-boy on the soap-opera scene, and he’s talking to you on your first day.

“Yeah, you’ll be right though; if you need any help or anything, just give us a yell, yeah?” And you realise he probably doesn’t know who you’re playing, or how you’re involved in that Season’s arc, but you certainly did.

“I didn’t know you could play drums.” You’re trying to be casual when you say it, but you see Ben tense where he’s sitting on a sofa in the rehearsal room, script and pencil in hand.

“I can now, that’s all that really matters.” He’s giving off such strong ‘please leave me alone’ vibes that it almost hurts, and you have to push through the knot in your stomach and sit down next to him.

“Ben, we need to at least be civil.” You say quietly, and he looks at you, expression a little forlorn.

“Y/N, we are civil, and we’ve done this before. Let’s just keep it professional, okay?” His tone leaves little room for argument, and you nod in agreement with a small smile, and pull out your phone, waiting for the rehearsal director.

“Hey there, baby, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here; I know I’d recognise your face.” You purr, running your hand delicately over the collar of Ben’s shirt, as his eyes widened and he spluttered to form a sentence, just as the script had told him to.

Your character was more a plot device than anything, when Ben’s character is at a low point, his main romance is on a break, and he meets you, a temptress in all black. Your job is to give his character a realisation, he starts as your cocaine dealer when his supplier can’t make the drop, and he falls for you. Depending on the audience reaction, you knew the producers were waiting to see if they kill you off or have you recover from your addiction. The point is, your fate’s uncertain at the end of the Season, and Ben’s character realises he has to get out of the drug trade.

“I’ve got something for you, from Oskar. Can we go somewhere more private?” When he speaks, it’s with surprising confidence, and he steps up from the bar stool and into your space, smiling as your face lights up. The director calls cut after a moment, and you step back, smile sliding to something genuine as an assistant comes in and straightens your loose, black silk shirt, and they reset the shot for a new take.

“Ben, could you try less flustered? You’re here to deliver drugs, you’re not a schoolboy.” The director’s voice was kind as she came up to the two of you, and Ben agreed easily before she turned to you. “Great job, Y/N, don’t be afraid to be more even more forward, if you feel it.” As soon as you nod in understanding, she absconds, and you half laugh.

“If I was any more forward I’d be in your lap.” You snickered, voice quiet as you dipped your head to hide how you were faintly flustered. Ben was quiet, just watching you for a moment, but before you noticed, the director called for everyone to standby.

“I’m after Maggie, do you know where I could find her?” Ben starts as soon as the cameras start rolling, brow furrowed as he leans across the bar to speak to the bartender, and that’s your cue to enter the scene.

“Hey there, baby, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here; I know I’d recognise your face.” And when you say it this time, he smirks back at you, a little cocky, and you can feel the way it makes your heart flutter and you know it’s not as fake as it should be.

Before filming even starts, the producers have essentially forced you and Ben into bonding sessions which, if this were several years ago, would have just been dates. Now they’re awkward and tense, and you tend to bring heavily highlighted scripts.

“I saw you in that Wes Anderson movie last year. It was a really good performance, one of your best.” He offers over coffee. The idea that he’d kept up with enough of your work to label one ‘your best’ has you a little shocked, and something in your heart warms as you thank him softly.

It’s gotten easier to hang around with him, and it’s even easier to pretend to be in love with him in rehearsals. It’s like riding a bike, how easy it is to let yourself smile and lean into him, to let the banter flow easily between the two of you, fond jabs that edge on insulting coming as easily as breathing.

Joe mentions that he thought the two of you worked together before, and when you reply that you’d dated for almost a year, he goes very quiet, eyes going wide. After a beat, he admits it explains a lot.

“X-Men did you real dirty.” You’re half paying attention to an interview with Roger Taylor that the two of you had been instructed to watch together. You’re both in his trailer, sitting on opposite ends of the sofa as you watch in almost complete silence.

“What?” He asks, after a beat, your words having taken a moment to process.

“Killing you off like that; they could have gotten so much mileage out of your character.” The way you say it is far too well thought out to be an idle thought. Ben smirked.

“You just liked the leather pants.” He muttered, but you’re silence is answer enough. You know he sees your embarrassed smile, but you can’t bring yourself to deny it.

“Hey, do you wanna grab a drink after and go through notes and blocking and stuff?” You’re shooting your third episode, and you’re far more comfortable on set by now. Agreeing easily, you let Ben drive the two of you to what he claims is the best pub in town, and you sit in one of the more secluded booths to talk.

It turns out he’s just as much a fan of you as you are of him; you’re known more for your bit-parts in long-running series, it seems like the only show you hadn’t been a part of so far had been Eastenders, it was only a matter of time. It’s an innocent night, true to his word, all you do is talk, and discuss the script. There is one part of the upcoming script that has you a bit nervous.

“Listen, honestly just go for it; it’s not meant to be sweet or anything, I’m literally taking coke from you.” You tell him, fidgeting, and he’s hums thoughtfully.

“You sure? We can talk to the director, I’m sure-” He offers, but you laugh to hide your nervousness.

“Nah, let’s knock it out of the park, the script says go for it so just go for it.” You assured him, heart rate already quickening at the mere thought of it.

The next day, before the scene, the director comes over to talk you through it, making sure that if anything becomes uncomfortable, that you can talk to her. Both you and Ben assure her that it’s fine.

“You’re far too cute for this line of work.” You say as you hold a baggie of “cocaine” up to the light, smile playing on your lips.

“Cute? Ouch, you really know how to wound a man, you know.” He says, leaning back against the sofa in the hallway of the grubby hotel your character was staying in. He’s watching you with interest, small smile playing on his lips.

“Cute’s not a bad thing, baby, but you look like you should be making coffees or playing football in the sun, not here, not with me.” And you tap out a little of the powder onto your hand, pretending to snort it before you turn to him, his expression dark and hungry, and he kisses you, aggressive, almost desperate, and you lean into it, almost forget you’re playing a role with his hand on the back of your neck. When he lets go, when he pulls away, your eyes are still closed and you chase his lips for a moment. Eyes flickering open, you see him smirking down at you where he’s standing, and you both know it wasn’t entirely acting.

“You don’t know anything about me.” He growls, and you know you have to smile like you’re into it, like it’s a challenge, but instead, you duck your gaze, giving a small laugh and wiping at the nostril you’d just “snorted cocaine” through, before looking up at him through your eyelashes.

They call cut, and the director announces, almost a little awed, that she’s pretty sure they got the the take, actually says she’s not sure if she could getting a better take if they tried again. Ben seems far too pleased with himself.

“They want us to tell the public we’re together.” You’re resting your head on Ben’s chest laying at the back of the tour-bus set, and his hand is resting on your waist, which is bare for the crop top and booty shorts they’ve put you in.

“Yeah, I heard.” He replies, voice equally quiet. “I think we’ve got a meeting about it tomorrow morning.” Gwil and Rami are actually playing scrabble at the front of the bus, and Joe is talking to Singer, the director.

“It’s a bad idea.” You’re so frank that you feel Ben freeze, and you heave a sigh. “It’s good for the movie, but Ben...” You trail off, and you feel it when he forces himself to relax. “It wouldn’t be real, it would just be weird.”

“Y/N, we’re actors.” He says very pointedly, and when you turn, resting your chin on his chest, he looks tired, a little exasperated. “It’s just a business deal.” He assured, and you let out a low, thoughtful grumble.

“We’ll discuss it tomorrow.” You allow, and he nods once, shifting to a more comfortable position, and you go back to resting your head on his chest, eyes fluttering closed as Singer called for the shot to be reset and a bunch of people came and straightened your clothes, and touched up your makeup, all without you having to move much.

You agree to the terms set forth in the meeting easily, the story being that your relationship rekindled on set, and that you were now madly in love, mirroring the relationship you were portraying on screen.

“Wait, does that mean-?” Ben leans forward in his chair, with his heart in his throat as he followed their logic, thinking through the plot of the movie. “Like engaged?” He asked.

“Seems a bit fast.” You agreed, voice level enough that someone might mistake you for calm rather than internally freaking out, and your managers shared a look.

“There will be a public proposal during or after the world premiere, that’s up to you both, and after the movie is out on DVD, you can go your separate ways.” They assured, but your mouth fell open.

“You know he left me for X-Men, right?” You splutter, and Ben’s eyes widen as he turns to you with a scoff.

“You’re the one who said the distance was too much for us while I was in Cairo.” He snapped, and you threw your hands in the air.

“I was offering to come and stay with you instead, but you said you were too busy!” That was enough to shut him up, his mouth snapping closed as he turned away sharply, huffing out a resigned sigh.

“We have a few brands and restaurants who are interested in sponsoring, and the producers are willing to increase both your salaries if you go through with it for the full duration.” Your manager informed you both carefully, and you and Ben shared a resigned look.

“Fake intend to marry me for like three months?” He asked, voice low and bitter, and after heaving a long sigh, you look to your managers,

“Fine.”

“I think I love you.” Ben’s character shows up at your character’s door, and you open it in a silk robe.

“Hello to you too.” You laughed, but he’s so serious, so sincere, and when he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t offer anything else, you step up to him, pressing your lips to his, and he wraps his arms around you, hands sliding against the silk over your hips, and you pull back.

“You’re too sweet for me, baby,” voice so low it’s barely a whisper, he’s the one who chases your lips this time, but your catch his chin, and his eyes open.

“You’re high.” He says softly, voice raw and a little desperate.

“And you’re my dealer.” You push him back gently, going to close the door and his expression turns angry.

“That doesn’t mean anything; I love you, Maggie.” His words hang heavily in the air, but before you can respond, they call for cut. You’re told to play it more like it hurts to try and turn him down, and you agree, smiling and nodding all the while. Everyone sets up for another take and you close the door.

When you kiss him this time, his hands are holding your face, and you’ve got your arms around his neck, and it’s like the world falls away from around you. It’s not acting now, hasn’t been for weeks, almost months now, not since he’d asked you out officially. Every time you kiss him you’re desperate to drown in his embrace, and he kisses you like it’s just the two of you, no cameras, no scripts.

“You’re-” and he cuts you off with another quick kiss, which has you laughing a little sadly, “Peter you’re too sweet for me.” He rests his forehead against yours, heaving a sigh.

“I know you’re high.” He says gently, and you don’t push him away this time, just lean back, your finger lifting his chin.

“And you’re my dealer.” You tell him, expression falling.

“That doesn’t mean anything, that doesn’t matter; I love you.” And you know that in that moment, the words mean so much more than the script, than these characters, than the show; he loves you. Ben loves you.

You avoid him, outside of filming, until you actually get a call from your manager telling you you’re contractually obligated to be seen in public together at least once a week. Even while filming you’re short with him, and he’s quick to get away from you the moment he doesn’t need to be around you, which was getting to be pretty bad, seeing as how you had been blocking a sex scene.

After the call, you and Ben get a drink. It’s awkward at first, though that’s unsurprising. After a long sip of his beer, he pats his thighs where he’s sitting in the armchair across from you. You make a face at him, shaking your head.

“It’ll look less suspicious than if we’re shouting at each other across the table.” He hissed, and you groaned, obliging and crossing to sit yourself in his lap. He’s warm and secure, and he wraps his arm around you like it’s second nature. “Let’s not make this weird.” He said gently, and you nod.

“As for tomorrow’s shoot,” you said softly, leaning in to make sure no-one else heard, and he nodded, humming softly, “we’re professionals, and,” after a beat you cleared your throat pointedly, “it’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

“Not in front of a camera crew we haven’t.” Ben says with a smirk, and you snicker in agreement. “It’s gonna go fine; this is all gonna go fine, I promise.” And when you raise your eyebrows at him in surprised question, he just laughs softly, and brings you in for a chaste kiss. “It’s only until the DVD’s released.” He assures you, and you let your expression fall, already weary.

“Ben, that’s over a year away.”

#ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #bo rhap #queen #queen imagines #eastenders #eastenders imagines #the angry lizard writes

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lenjaminmacbuttons · 4 years

Note

Hope you’re doing okay, I know there’s been a lot going on the past couple weeks. 🌈🌈💛💛

FOOF YOU CAN SAY THAT AGAIN

thank you for the good vibes anon, i love you and it means a lot to me. however unfortunately now im gonna use this to vent dump exactly how much has been going on the past couple weeks off the top of my head. this is actually pretty far from Everything thats happen but im so tired and dont want to think about any of it anymore

my grandma passed away last week. we were prepared for it and we know she’s at peace in a better place et cetera et cetera, her body was all full of restraints & impediments that she doesnt have to deal with anymore and the next time she’s in a body it’ll be all New And Improved and awesome. i missed so much work in anticipation of this that now i can’t get work off on the day of the funeral, so i can still go to it but i’ll have to go immediately to work right from it and have to pretend everythings fine and dandy and nothings going on.

everyone at work Does know there’s something going on however and the two coworkers i have who are actually like i consider them friends mostly they’re all like Hey Im Here For You Talk About Your Feelings Honestly with me and i. dont. want. to talk about my feelings at work. thats not what work is for and i dont like talking about my feelings anyway and i dont want them to ask anymore

the changes to the handbook and the honor code have completely sunk my heart. i had so much hope up until those hideous ridiculous unfathomably transphobic things they wrote and now i don’t feel like i can trust or have hope in ANYTHING the institution does anymore. ive been up all night going back and forth over whether i want to go to church today. or ever again. it’s not bringing me joy. it’s making me feel anxious and depressed and frustrated and alone. i keep seeing people just on the street or on facebook who are so happy and content with the church and whatever it does and i just…i get struck every single time with this thought of “they don’t care about me. they don’t care about any of these problems. they’re not affected personally by it and so they don’t care.”

and then that makes me feel like such a hypocrite because!!! ive been them too for so long!! what makes this moment so different!!!!! why is this the straw that breaks the camel’s back when the camel should have thrown off the whole burden and run to join its friends at the first strike of the owner’s whip!!!!!!

plus it’s making me feel gross about my mormon memes blogs. idk if i can keep running those anymore.

im failing this semester anyway and i keep getting emails about it. i was planning to take a break from school After this semester but ive missed so much class that i just really can’t go back to any of them so i guess im just dropping out right now. as much as i’d love to participate in all the incredible amazing protests going on right now i really really cant be on campus at all without feeling literally physically ill. and my Hope was to do really well this last semester and then submit mission papers and that way i’d know exactly what next to do with my life until i decide what After, and id be able to Get Out somewhere and travel someplace while still feeling like my life has some semblance of structure and direction. however! HOWEVER!!!!!!!!

i’ve been feeling so, so horrible and so worn down and i dont even know where or what my testimony is anymore. but that’s probably a lot lower on the list of Why I Can’t Serve A Mission, because a. i still don’t trust my Local Bishop enough to talk to him about things The Handbook says to b. i am finding it harder and harder and harder to be perceived as female. i never really have dysphoria about my body or my presentation or anything but like, when people say Sister and Ma’am and Miss and Daughter and Hey Pretty Lady It’s Me Your Relief Society President it’s like…that’s not me. that feels gross. and i wear suits and ties to church, have done so for a while and never get any flak for it, and im gradually working up the nerve to maybe start introducing myself as lev or levi instead of lillie buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut. socially transitioning apparently is not allowed.

not to mention my temple recommend expired ages ago anyway. anxiety about bishops prevented me from ever going in for an interview to renew it. i haven’t visited the temple once since before graduating high school. but every time i see it or think about it i long for it so badly and it hurts so much.

and also like, i get that same kinda horrible regretful longing feeling whenever i hear violin music? because i played violin for a few years and then stopped but i still have the instrument because it was given to me by my grandmother. who played it herself until sickness wouldn’t let her anymore and she entrusted it to me and i Stopped Playing but then i hoped to pick it up enough to at least learn how to play her favorite song and aw wouldn’t that be so nice to play that for her on her violin except i never actually got around to printing out the sheet music or practicing At All. and now she’s gone.

and one of the last things she said to me was that she would love to hear my book since her eyesight was too gone to read it so i said i’d record it as soon as i got the right software/hardware to do that and then i never did that either. also i promised alla yalls that book would be Published Published coming up on four months ago now and i still haven’t done that

i took a pair of safety scissors to my forearms as mentioned in a previous post and surprise surprise, the lines have not healed still, it’s getting warmer outside and thus harder to wear long sleeves, and guess what! a while ago on a separate occasion i complained that i kinda wished my self harm scars looked more like the classic cutter lines and Now They Do!! And I Hate It!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and a couple nights ago my little sister saw them and so i told her i got attacked by a spider-pawed bear and fortunately my brother Understands and backed me up like “dang what do they teach in schools these days i cant believe youve never heard of the spider-pawed bears that live in the mountains and are totally normal and real”

and steven universe is ending. that’s a thing.

and like….okay. not everything in my emotions right now is bad. some of it is just complicated. one coworker friend i have recently confessed that she’s had a crush on me for several months now. fortunately when she said this i was able to be honest and say that im not super eager for a relationship right now, im not ready in the slightest to settle down or anything, im still hung up on my high school crush and also dealing with issues from my last relationship, and she replied that’s all perfectly fine and she doesn’t have any expectations and she’s great being friends and we can take things at whatever pace is good

except i also now have a date with said high school crush loosely planned for tomorrow and i told this coworker friend about it and she admitted it’s making her a little jealous and then she said jealous is an ugly word and amended it to Insecure and i feel bad about that

but i also like. am really excited for this date. like it’s not really a for sure romantic capital-d Date and that’s fine, but i haven’t seen this friend irl for so long and ive been missing her so much over this past little while that we’ve been internet chatting and that ive been i guess officially falling back in love with her but i also like, i dont know what her deal is romantically right now i don’t want to presume anything but i really really really am itching to see her

work is stressful. it’s only gonna get more so as weather gets warmer. but we’re getting two new managers with loads of experience and glowing reviews next week. i have hope that they’ll makes things a little lighter.

and there’s also. good things. peridot took off her visor for the first time ever in canon and i saved like 50 different gifs of it to my computer cus it rocked my world. sonic has she-ra toys for the kids meals and i managed to snag a tiny inflatable version of the sword. i’m making cosplays of the tres horny boys from the adventure zone and they’re all very exciting and making things makes me very very happy. i’m finding joy in all the fanfictions i’m writing right now and in talking about dungeons & dragons with my brothers and friends. ducknerva is a very beautiful Good Ending version of marahope which makes me happy and taako is a super effective projection outlet. i bought cupcakes today and they were delicious. and when i think about those good things, when i think about any good thing no matter how small, everything else disappears.

whatever happens happens i guess.

she who lives will see.

#talkyllama #hey if anyone needs tags on posts like these please please let me know asap #i always forget that actual people see the things i post #i dont usually trigger tag cus i dont usually think i need to but if i do i will

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let-it-raines · 5 years

Text

Second in Command (Epilogue - Part Seven)

Summary: Life as the “spare to the heir” isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be when you’re the supposed screw-up of the family, but people don’t know what really happens behind closed doors.

Rating: Mature

A/N: You guys are totally going to be annoyed with me for how I left it on a cliffhanger when I totally didn’t have to except to show some character growth and how things change...which I guess is exactly the reason I ended it that way :D

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr Chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14| 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20

Epilogue Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Tag list: @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @kmomof4 @wellhellotragic @ekr032-blog-blog @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615@a-faekindagirl @mayquita @captainsjedi @captswanis4vr @kristi555 @teamhook @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @branlovesouat @dreadpirateemma @alys07 @andiirivera

“Can I come in, son?”

“Yeah, of course,” Killian answers automatically, the shock of his father just showing up at his door stunning him for only a moment. It’s not like he never visits. He usually just calls or texts first. “I didn’t know you were coming over, dad. Why didn’t you call?”

“Oh, I was visiting the kids and thought I’d drop by since I knew that the two of you had returned home.” His dad steps inside, squeezing his shoulder before leaning down to pet Indy. “Hello, darling,” he then greets Emma, kissing her cheek before wrapping her up in a hug. “How are you feeling today?”

“Good, good,” Emma insists, her eyes still blown wide as if she’s actually been shocked. He knows she’s still a bit rattled from the flight and her nausea. The same thing had happened when they went out sailing the morning of their anniversary, before the disaster of the rest of that day, and even though he had been wary of it, Emma insisted she was fine. She never said she wasn’t, but the green of her face told him otherwise. “How are you?”

“Kicking pretty high for my age.”

“You are not old,” she laughs, tugging on Indy’s leash. “Do you mind if I take Indy for a quick walk? Let her run around a bit. She’s been told she’s going outside, and I’m afraid she’ll freak out if she doesn’t get to go.”

“Of course, dear. I’ll chat with Killian, and the second you two come back inside, I want to hear all about how you’ve been since you left us to go holiday in the warm sunshine. I swear it’s rained for the past week.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Emma takes a step over toward him, leaning up and kissing his cheek, whispering that she’ll be right back before taking a step outside with Indy and leaving him with his dad.

“Do you want something to drink? Eat?”

“I’m fine.” His father begins walking to the living room, settling down into the recliner he prefers when visiting all while Killian sits down on the couch next to him, only a side table between them. “So how was your holiday?”

He almost chokes on his own saliva thinking of all of the things he absolutely cannot tell his father about their holiday as well as wondering if he should bring up the privacy issue just yet. He doesn’t know, is never truly sure about these types of things. He could have a nice, normal conversation with his father or it could turn into another tense, stressful one. He’s had enough of those for a lifetime, but he also knows that he doesn’t have all of the time in the world to fix this. He’s got fewer than four months, really.

“It was wonderful,” he finally answers, his lips ticking up on one side. It really was wonderful to get away with Emma and only have each other for awhile despite the disaster that was their anniversary. It got better, though. It wasn’t completely bad. They had the sailing trip and the takeout meal that was better than anything else they’d eaten if only for how comfortable they both felt. He felt his son move for the first time, which was bloody brilliant and most definitely his new favorite thing. “It’s a gorgeous island. Emma mentioned something about asking you to make our beaches like that.”

Brennan barks out a laugh, the wrinkles on his face all gathering together while his gray hair shakes the slightest bit. If Killian was a betting man, he’d guess his dad is getting his hair cut in the next two or three days, keeping up with his lifelong schedule of haircuts. “If only I could. That would be bloody wonderful. But I like the way she thinks.”

“She’s definitely a brilliant dreamer.” He trails off toward the end of his sentence, looking down at his hand and twisting his ring around his finger, his constant physical reminder of his lifelong commitment to Emma, as if he really needs one. “Can I talk to you about something, dad?”

“Of course.”

“I know, well, I know that things were different when I was a kid, that technology wasn’t as advanced, that I was a bit of a surprise child and that you were on the older side when I was born.”

“Well, why don’t you just call me elderly then, Killian? And you have absolutely no proof that you were a surprise child.”

His dad laughs when he speaks, but Killian isn’t finding a lot of humor in it, knowing that he’s likely going to upset Brennan with his words.

“What I mean is, I know you weren’t really, truly involved in my life. And I’m not blaming you or trying to make you feel…upset, but I need a very particular kind of advice that really only you and mum or Liam and Abigail can give. And I’m honestly not even sure you can give it.”

“What’s wrong, Killian?”

He takes a moment to collect himself, hundreds of words on the tip of his tongue but none of them feeling quite right. But he has to say something, so he might as well speak the truth.

“How the hell am I supposed to be a father in a world where I can’t protect the privacy of my wife and my child? There were, um, photographers who rented out a house and used scopes to take pictures of us on the beach. And Emma and I got into a pretty nasty argument about it. She’s worried…I’m worried about Andrew’s privacy. We want him to live a life as normal as possible. We don’t want photographers following him to school or to the park, and I just – I don’t know how to fix it.”

He’s been clenching his fist all while he talks, the tenseness in his hand almost painful while hot tears form in his eyes, every fault and every insecurity he’s had long before the fight with Emma coming back and assaulting his senses, making everything a dark, cloudy blur.

Brennan looks calm, secure, the blue of his eyes not changing while his eyelids rapidly blink, his brows furrowing and the lines on his face increasing. Has he said too much? Shown too much emotion? Asked for the impossible?

“The fact that you have very obviously beaten yourself up about this proves that you are a better dad than I ever have been.”

“That’s not what I meant, dad. I didn’t – ”

“I know, Killian. I’m not taking offense to anything. I was a poor excuse for a father for the majority of your life. I was focused on Liam, on my job, on the protocol and the way that my father raised Albert and me. All I knew was that fathers were not supposed to be close to their children, and as much as that hurt me as a child, I stupidly believed it. The fact that you have forgiven me is something I still can’t believe.”

He leans over and places his hand on Brennan’s knee, patting him before leaning back and wiping at his eyes. “I did it for me, but with the way you’ve worked to change, you deserve it.”

“Thank you, my boy.” His father smiles, settling back into his chair and crossing his hands together in his lap. “But this is not about me. This is about you and your family. So you don’t want Andrew in the public eye? At all? Is that what you’re saying?”

“I mean, we haven’t discussed it in serious length, but yes. I’m sure that Emma will be okay with releasing the occasional photo or having him join us when we go overseas so we don’t have to be apart from him, but I think we’re going to have to take a step back in traditions. And when he gets older, I think we may need to move somewhere much more private.”

The front door opens then, the alarm beep sounding at the same time that he hears the click of nails and the squeak of sneakers as well as Emma’s voice. He straightens up, fixing his hunched back and sitting against the couch in as much of a relaxed position as he can.

“Go find, Killian, girl, yeah,” Emma coos, her voice getting louder the closer she gets to the living room. And then she’s in view, Indy running in first and jumping up on the couch before getting down once she spots Brennan, less familiar people always more exciting than him. Emma walks toward him, sitting down in the seat Indy just vacated and reaching around him to tangle her fingers in his hair, stroking the strands. “What’s wrong? Your shoulders are tensed.”

How the hell does she always know?

“Killian and I,” his father answers for him, seemingly understanding that Killian wasn’t sure what to say, “were simply talking about how you two seem to be suffering from some privacy issues and are worried about your child’s future, that you want Andrew to lead a more private life than normal.”

“Oh,” Emma gulps, her hand stilling in his hair before beginning again, “well, yeah. I know that we all grew up differently and that my childhood isn’t really an option, but that’s what I want, what we want. We want him to be able to be a kid, you know? I don’t want him to be used to cameras everywhere he goes. I don’t know how we’d fix that, but that’s definitely my top priority right now. And forever probably.”

His hand finds Emma’s knee, thumb running back and forth over the material of her leggings while she speaks. He’s here with her, for her, consistently, and he hopes that she knows this.

“Why don’t you two give me some time to think things over? I’ll meet with security. We’ll work out some plans and ideas. You two should probably talk to Liam and Abigail. It’s not, well, it won’t be exactly the same. You have more freedom than them, and they’re not quite as private as the two of you. But they do have experience in all of this.” “Thank you, Brennan,” Emma sighs, leaning back into the couch and scratching at his neck, his eyes fluttering closed for a quick moment.

“Of course, but at the end of the day, above everything else, we’re a family. How you two feel is far more important than any sort of duty and tradition we have, even if I do ask that we stick to the important ones.”

“Actually, I have something else that I want to talk about.”

His head snaps to her, eyes searching for what she has to say, but she’s not looking at him, her gaze trained on the wag of Indy’s tail while her fingers tap over his on her leg, the hand in his hair having stilled.

“What do you want to talk about, love?”

She looks at him then, the smallest of smiles on her face that comforts him the slightest bit, before directing her gaze to Brennan. “I don’t want to walk out of the hospital all made up hours after giving birth. Kudos to Abigail. She is a badass woman for that, but that’s not what I want. Andy doesn’t need to be exposed to so many people as a newborn. I don’t need to be all dressed up when I’ve just given birth. I don’t care about tradition when it comes to this. This is what I’m doing, and I really feel like it’s the first step in taking a stand about him not being some kind of public property.”

He didn’t know she felt that way about any of that, nearly every word she said news to him, but he gets it, supports it. If that’s what Emma wants for this, that’s what they’ll do. He’s never quite understood that tradition anyways, and he likes the idea of a more private celebration with just them and their families while Emma heals and they adjust to the terrifying process of being parents for the first time.

“I’m not sure we can do that, dear.”

“What?” His head snaps over to his dad, trying to process the words. “You literally just said that how we feel is more important than any duty we have.”

“But that we need to stick to the important traditions, yes. New family members are an important tradition.”

“Brennan,” Emma grits, her voice strained as she tries to keep it friendly, “I respect our family and all of the traditions we have, but I am not some kind of human machine who’s only here to produce babies. Yes, of course this is a big deal, but it’s a big deal for us as a personal family, not as some part of the institution. You can still put the sign up, make any and all announcements you want. Hell, I’ll release a picture if we have to, but all I’m asking is that we’re allowed to leave and travel home in peace.”

“I agree, dad. I mean, really. Of all of the things we break and bend, of all of the things we change, surely you can let this one thing go? It’s not hundreds of years ago where people are faking pregnancies and paternities to keep the line intact, which was ridiculous then. I think letting family be family is the most important thing, don’t you?”

“Aye, it’s just…you’ll have to forgive me.” Brennan runs his hand over his face, visibly warring something within himself, the lines on his face stressing. “You were right earlier when you said things are different now. These are not things that I really went through with you, not as prevalent as you. Emma, dear, I’m sorry. I don’t…I shouldn’t have ever considered making you do something you’re not comfortable with. I love you dearly, and you and Killian know what’s best here, not me.”

“I don’t want to disappoint you,” Emma says, getting up from the couch and sitting down on the edge of the coffee table so that she can squeeze Brennan’s hand. “You are so brilliant, and you uphold this family so well. I know that I’m different, that it was difficult to accept me, but change can be good, you know?”

“I know.”

Brennan stays for a little while longer, hashing out a few more details with them before accepting a cup of tea and some food, finally listening to them talk about their holiday all the while scratching behind Indy’s ears, her eyes closed in bliss the entire time. It’s peaceful, relaxing, and he feels his shoulders loosen the longer the conversation goes on, Emma’s laughter and joyful voice sounding throughout the room. In the back of his mind, though, he keeps replaying the conversation, thinking of everything he said, everything they all said, and he’s amazed it all went as smoothly as it did, surprised that his father acquiesced to their private exit from the hospital so easily. He had no idea that Emma wanted that, and he wonders how long she’s been toying with the idea, how many late nights she’s spent worrying about bringing it up. He knows she didn’t just think of it now, that it wasn’t spur of the moment, and he tries to remind himself to ask her about it later, to make sure that there’s nothing else she’s hoarding inside.

She goes through enough, has gone through enough over the years, and she shouldn’t feel like she has to hold things back from him.

But he saves his thoughts for later, letting his dad leave and letting Emma take a nap, her eyes falling shut without her even laying down on the couch. He wakes her before she can get into too deep of a sleep, though, knowing that it’ll hurt her back, and helps her go upstairs to their room, ignoring the curses she’s muttering under her breath about him waking her up. While she sleeps, he goes downstairs to his office, answering emails and clearing out his inbox that he left alone while they were in Spain.

Summer is normally a slow time for them, June and July full of engagements while August is usually taken off to spend in Balmoral. Emma’s due in September, though, a few days after his birthday, and she’s not working after August begins. He is, though, doing his regular work and making a few short trips, making sure never to never travel more than three hours away in case he needs to be home.

But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have things to do now, organizing his files and reviewing the financials for Kidding a Goal until Indy comes walking into his office, her nails clicking against the wood until she’s staring up at him with her mouth wide open, tongue practically falling out of her mouth. He checks his watch and sees that it’s far past seven. He’s surprised she didn’t come and get him two hours ago.

“You ready to eat, my girl?”

That gets her tail wagging before she takes off, running toward the kitchen at such a pace that she’s probably there before he even gets up from his chair. Sure enough, she’s already waiting next to her bowl like the most well-behaved dog in the world, which is not something he expected when he and Emma decided to get a dog last year. But she’s done well, their training working most of the time, but Indy does have the tendency to lick his face when he’s sleeping. He’s not a fan of that.

But she’s his best bud and a constant companion on his runs, so it all evens out.

After feeding her, he hears footsteps coming down the stairs, Emma wandering into the kitchen with sleep-rumpled hair and pillow streaks on her face, her pajama top falling off of one shoulder. She immediately heads toward the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and some yogurt before settling down on a barstool.

“How’d you sleep?”

She grunts in response, opening her yogurt and eating a large spoonful. “I hate being pregnant sometimes.”

“So not well then?”

“Nope. I felt like my guts were all being squeezed out, but do you know who’s not moving now that I’m awake and out of bed?”

“Andy.”

“Yep.”

She keeps eating her yogurt, quickly finishing it up before getting another carton. He should probably fix something for dinner so she doesn’t consume the entire yogurt supply in their fridge.

“Hey, sweetheart?”

“Yeah?” she mumbles, pulling her spoon out of her mouth and looking up at him, her hair deflating the slightest bit from when she came down.

“You want to tell me what that was earlier? With my dad. When did you decide you didn’t want to do the public announcement?”

“Oh, um, I first thought about it a few weeks ago, but it was really driven home after last week. Why? You have an issue with it?”

“No,” he laughs, leaning down across from her and propping his elbows on the counter. “I think it’s bloody brilliant, that you are brilliant. I like that you want to do things your way…our way. It’s very sexy.” “Oh boy, if you’re looking to get laid right now that is not happening.”

“Well damn. Now I have no reason to compliment you.”

“Shut up,” she groans, tossing her spoon over into the sink, the metal clanking. “But seriously, you’re okay with all that, right?”

“Of course. I want you to do what makes you comfortable. I’m not the one giving birth.”

“Damn right. I think I’m going to give your dad a heart attack though.”

“Aye, definitely. I know he’s trying and he’s being accommodating, but I could practically see the fear of breaking traditions rolling off of him in anxiety-filled waves. But he’s seventy-three. Some things just aren’t going to change.”

“So basically we hit the jackpot today?”

“Yep.” He walks over to the fridge, opening it up and seeing what they have left over from before they left. “What do you want for dinner?”

-/-

“Bloody buggering hell,” he curses, bringing his thumb to his mouth and soothing where he just jammed his finger on the wood.

Building a crib should not be this difficult, but it apparently is. He’s been following the instructions exactly, making sure that each piece is doubly secure, and he’s not sure how it’s taking this long. He should be finished, this crib should be made, and he should be able to move onto the shelves or Emma’s glider that she was insistent on them getting.

He’s spent more time in this room in the past month than he has in any other room in the house, June somehow running away with itself all while he’s been hidden away within these four walls. It took a month and a half for he and Emma to decide on a simple light gray, one that he’s pretty sure is also in their bedroom, but honestly, once they both agreed on the color (likely because they have agreed on it once before), he wasn’t going to say anything else. He did pick out the gray-ish blue that’s on the wall with the shelves (or at least where they’ll go once he gets to them), so he’s pretty proud of it.

Neither he or Emma are much one for designing, though they have gotten a bit more into it since the remodel of the apartment, but he’s pretty proud of how Andy’s room is shaping up, even if the lad will stay in the bassinet in their room for awhile. It’s a simple room, clean lines and clean colors. All of the furniture are different shades of white and warm browns, woods really, with natural accents. Abigail gifted them a large wooden giraffe along with some leaf and animal prints, so those are sitting in the corner waiting to be placed after all of this furniture is built.

His favorite part, though, is definitely going to be the little sitting area by the shelves and the changing table. He’s not under any impression that this is going to be a calm room, a place to relax, but he figures there have to be times when he’s rocking Andy back to sleep in that very spot, the shelves filled with colorful children’s books that’ll become routine reading one day as well as being filled with several stuffed animals and photo frames that he can’t wait to update with pictures. Of course, the cabinets below will be filled with the essentials, the things no one likes to talk about like diapers and nipple cream (that was something Emma did not want to know about, and he honestly doesn’t blame her), but they’re definitely still in the dreamy, picture perfect nursery phase where the messiness of a child isn’t quite a factor.

Really to him, as much as he knows this is real, as much as he sees the physical proof, feels the physical proof (which holy shit is it incredible to be able to feel his son move), it’s still difficult for him to comprehend that in two months he and Emma will have a child. It’s something they’ve talked about for years, something they were planning on, but it’s difficult to put into words just how much love he has for his son.

And his wife.

She’s a rockstar in every sense of the word, and if he doesn’t mention it enough, Emma sure as hell will. He loves her fiercely, and that love is another thing that he can’t quite put into words. He honestly doesn’t understand men who moan and groan about their wives constantly. If anything, he finds it disgusting. Yes, you’re going to have disagreements with your significant other. That’s natural when you decide to spend your life with someone who has their own wants, needs, and opinions, but at the end of the day, his wife is his best friend. If there’s anyone he wants to spend time with, it’s her. No question.

If the answer to who your best friend isn’t your spouse or the person you’re marrying, he doesn’t understand why the hell you’d bother getting married. His mates are great, but they’re not Emma.

Maybe he is a bit of the cheeseball that Emma always claims him to be, but he likes it that way.

He’s definitely going to embarrass his kids. All of the time. He can’t wait. He’s got a few years, but he can’t wait.

“You know we can hire someone to do this, right?” Emma asks, a bit of laughter in her tone that makes him roll his eyes. His best friend, most definitely. The teasing is just a small part of that.

“Aye, but I’ve started it, and I intend on finishing it.” “Okay, but the crib doesn’t need to fall apart while there’s a baby inside of it, and the glider doesn’t need to fall apart while I’m sitting on it. That’s, like, a double disaster, and I know you lived by yourself for a long time, but I’m pretty sure you’re not capable of that anymore.”

“Oh, really? Because I was just going to make them as unsafe as possible so that I could live by myself again. I miss being able to stretch out in the bed.”

“You’re so funny,” she teases from the other side of the nursery where she’s putting away the washed clothes in the closet, organizing them by size. He swears they have enough clothes to last Andy for the first two years of his life, and that’s not counting the piles of things he knows David and Mary Margaret have at their house. “I think I may have bought him too much stuff. I don’t even think I own this many things.”

“You don’t mess your clothes up multiple times a day.”

“Good point.”

“I tend to make those.”

“Eh. Debatable.”

“Not at all debatable.” He turns back to the crib, looking at the instructions to see if he can remember where he left off before Emma distracted him. “Shit, this is impossible.”

“I can call my dad, babe. It won’t be a problem. He’s a bit handier than you.”

“Please, I am plenty handy.”

“Okay, well being handy with me is not the same as being handy when it comes to building things.”

“If we call your dad, he’s going to take over. I want to do some of this myself.”

“I will tell Dad just to help. Come on, babe, you love spending time with my dad.”

“Only now that he doesn’t give me the scary speeches anymore.”

“Yeah, I bet those were a lot of fun.”

“I mean, it’s been a solid half a decade since I’ve gotten one, but he still shakes me to my core.”

He hears Emma laugh, snort really, before she makes her way over to him, slowly settling down on the floor next to him and waving her hand until he gives her the instructions. She looks over them while looking at the crib, her eyes continuously darting between the two.

“You put part G in backwards. That’s why nothing after that is fitting.”

“Bloody hell,” he curses, reaching over and taking the instructions from her hand and checking to see if she really did just solve his problem, “how did you see that when I’ve been staring at it for the past hour?”

“Fresh eyes, my love. Fresh eyes.” She leans forward and kisses his cheek before falling back against the wall. “And that’s exactly why calling my dad and asking him to come over in the morning will be a great idea. I bet Mom will want to come too, and she does a mean job with a power drill.”

So Emma calls her parents who agree to come over in the morning. On top of moving, they’ve also begun to change around the hours of the pub, opening it earlier and letting Will close it out at night. And it’s because of this that they show up at eight in the morning, he and Emma both still asleep when their doorbell rings. Emma groans when she hears it, burying her face into his chest and making it impossible for him to get up without disturbing her. He can feel Andy summersaulting around in her belly, and he smiles to himself knowing that she’s going to have get up. She can’t sleep when he’s moving around like that.

He can’t sleep when Emma’s basically running marathons in bed, but that’s not something he’s going to voice out loud. He can get up and sleep in a guest room if he needs to. Emma can’t get up and walk away from the person who’s running marathons in her stomach.

There’s two human feet inside of her. That’s pretty weird if he thinks about it too much.

Okay, so really weird.

Slowly but surely he gets out of bed, letting Emma flip over into his spot, and heads downstairs to open the front door. David and Mary Margaret have a key, but they never use it, always waiting for either he or Emma to open the door for them, which he appreciates after one too many times having them walk in on he and Emma.

“Hi,” he greets, opening the door and ushering them inside. “Emma’s still asleep, but I’m sure she’ll wake up soon. Do you guys want some breakfast?”

“We ate at home, sweetie,” Mary Margaret greets, giving him a quick hug before David does the same. “So Emma said you guys were having some issues in the nursery.”

“I believe that it was more like Killian not being able to put together a crib in under three weeks.”

“So funny, Dave,” he bites, rolling his eyes and locking the door. “I did eventually figure it out. I just think this mid-July heat is obviously getting to me. Or maybe nerves. I’m not too sure.”

“Well, let’s go help then. We’ve got to be at the pub at two, but I think we should be able to get things done.”

After he fixes himself some coffee, not nearly as wide awake as David and Mary Margaret, they head upstairs and begin working in the nursery, assembling the shelves and drilling them into the walls in half the time that it would have taken he and Emma had they done this by themselves. So maybe help isn’t all bad. Before Emma even wakes up, they have the shelves installed and pictures securely nailed on the wall. There are books already being stacked, stuffed animals and knick knacks being placed, and all of the fun nipple creams and breast pumps being placed in the cabinet.

They’re working on the glider when Emma finally wanders in, her hair falling out of its band so that half of it spills down her back while the other half is piled on top of her head, and she’s got her glasses on, something she only does when her eyes feel too puffy to put her contacts in.

“Hey, sweetheart,” David greets, finishing tightening the screw he’s working on before getting up to embrace Emma. “How are you feeling?”

“Rough today. I think the little dude’s a giant or something because he crushes my lungs and my bladder at the same time. So I can’t breathe, and I have to pee. So, yeah, it’s fun.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks, dad. It looks fantastic in here. You guys have done so much. I feel like we’re not going to have anything to do in the next two months if we finish all of this.”

“That’s kind of the point, love.”

“Yeah,” she yawns, covering her mouth, “I know. Mom, do you want to come and rest with me in my room? My back hurts today, and I just can’t sit on the floor in here with you guys.” “Of course, hon,” Mary Margaret answers, walking away from the closet and stepping over to Emma before she rubs up and down her back. “Are you sure you don’t want Killian to join you? David and I would be fine to work on our own.”

“No, it’s fine. I bug him all day, and I’m kind of thinking that you can paint my toes for me or we can watch movies or something. It’s been awhile since we’ve done that.”

“Text me if you need me, love,” he tells Emma, his eyes tracing over her in a bit of concern. It’s difficult watching her be uncomfortable or miserable on some days when he literally can’t do anything about it.

“Yeah, babe, I will.”

Emma and Mary Margaret walk out of the room, their voices fading away as they walk into their bedroom one room over, and he’s left with just David who promptly gets back to work finishing building the chair. Music plays in the background, an eighties’ playlist he thinks, and it doesn’t take longer before the chair is completely together and he’s sitting in it testing it out. It’s comfortable, probably one of the best seats they have in the house, and he can definitely understand why Emma insisted on this one after shopping around a bit.

“How does someone so small have so much stuff?”

“My child is twenty-eight years old, we don’t even live in her childhood home anymore, and I swear things of hers still pop up all of the time.”

“That’s likely because Emma leaves everything all over the place.”

He folds his hands behind his head, closing his eyes and rocking back and forth while Cherry Bomb plays in the background, which is definitely not a nursery appropriate song. Or maybe it is. Who needs Mozart when you can have The Runaways?

“So is Emma like that every day?”

“Like what?” he asks, popping an eye open to look at David who’s sitting against the shelves, which can’t be good for his back. God, how old is he getting if his first concern is for someone else’s back?

“Exhausted.”

“No, not every day. She’s usually got a hell of a lot of energy, even if there’s always a nap. I think she had a restless night. She’ll tell me like it is, though. If she’s having a bad day, she’ll let us know.” “What about you?”

“Well, I don’t have a baby crushing my lungs and my bladder.”

“True,” David laughs, running his hands through his short hair. Killian swears it’s gotten more gray in the past year, the blonde nearly disappearing. David is only fifty-two, so he’s not exactly older. Hell, if it weren’t for the wrinkles on his forehead and the gray hairs outnumbering the blonde, he’d look much younger. “But I remember being a dad for the first time. It’s terrifying, so you’re allowed to be scared.”

“I am. It’s…” He reaches up and scratches behind his ear, his hair getting long enough that he knows he needs to get a haircut soon. “Emma and I try to make sure that we keep up our normal routines, that we have our normal conversations without talking too much about the baby, but it’s kind of hard, you know? It’s like we’ll be talking about going out to eat and two minutes later we’re making a list of middle names or speculating if he’s going to look more like me or Emma.”

“I know. But it’s an exciting time, Killian. There will never be anything like it, and if you want to talk about the fact that you’re having a kid, you should. You and Emma have been together for so long, and I really don’t think your relationship is going to struggle if you’re not sitting around making references no one else understands for hours on end.”

“Oi,” he protests, resisting the urge to pick up the toy elephant next to him and throw it at David, “that is your daughter you’re mocking, and she can still kick your ass.”

“Trust me, I know. Who do you think raised her to be like that?”

“Mary Margaret.”

“You’re walking a thin line.”

He winks at David, his lips ticking up on the right into a smirk. “I know. You and Mary Margaret did such a good job, still do such a good job, and even with all of the times you’ve messed up – ”

“ – which is a lot more often than even Emma has probably told you.”

“I just…you’re a good dad, Dave. To Emma, to me. I hope I can do half as good as a job.”

“You’ll be great, Killian.” David smiles at him, something genuine, and Killian’s reminded of how much David really has impacted his life in all of the best ways. “I promise. And as much as I love you, I do love my little girl more, and she’s going to be amazing. She’s always…she’s never been too open to a lot of people, but the people she loves, she loves so fiercely, you know? And she’s already doing so well at being a mom. She’ll call me at nights, and I can just hear the happiness and excitement in her voice. At the end of the day, that’s all you want, you know? For your kid to be healthy and happy.”

“Yeah, I know.” He smiles to himself, thinking of how happy he is. “Also, how dare you imply that you love your own daughter more than me. I thought I meant more to you than that. I thought we had something special, man.”

“I can still give you hell. I’d watch yourself.”

He and David finish up in the nursery for the next few hours until David and Mary Margaret have to go to work, leaving after the three of them eat lunch down in the kitchen, Emma staying upstairs for a nap. When the Nolans are gone and he’s finished eating, he heads upstairs, bypassing the nursery and walking into their bedroom where Emma is sitting up on the bed watching TV.

“Your toes look nice,” he compliments, grabbing onto her big toe and moving it back and forth. “Do you feel any better?”

“Yeah,” she sighs, twisting onto her back and scooting up the bed, “it’s just one of those days, you know? I’m not usually this miserable.”

“I know, but it’s okay to have bad days, love.”

“Come here,” she tells him, crooking her fingers and motioning toward him before she turns on her side and wraps her arms around her pillow. He does as she asks, kicking off his sneakers and crawling up into the bed, the mattress moving against his weight until he’s pressed up behind her, his knee stuck between her thighs and his arm wrapped around her waist while the other rests above her head. This is how she’s been comfortable lately, and he can’t say he minds. “Did you guys get a lot done?”

“Aye, it’s almost all finished.” He moves her hair off of her neck, placing a kiss there before resting his chin on her shoulder. “It just needs your finishing touches, I think.”

“And we have to unpack all of the boxes that are in the guest room and put them away in the closet.” “That too, but we’ve got time, Emma.” She hums, and he can feel the vibrations as well as Andy moving around under his touch, the movements following how he taps his fingers. “Has he been active today?”

“Not since I woke up, but he always responds to your voice.” “Yeah, he recognizes me?”

“Of course, you talk so damn much. How could he not?”

He turns his head and presses a kiss against her jaw, biting a bit just to tease her. “You are not a very nice woman, my love.”

“Oh please, I’m, like, the seventh nicest person you know.”

“Seventh?”

“I figured it was conceited to put me at number one.”

“Possibly.” He moves his hand against her stomach again, snaking his fingers up under her pajama top so that he can feel the warmth of her skin. “So he really does get more active when I talk?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty weird to think about, but it’s true. He likes when you talk. I think it’s because you’re a much better story teller than me.” “I mean, obviously.”

“And that he’s probably just glad to hear someone else besides me. Imagine being stuck with someone for nine months. Good God.”

“Well, I’m stuck with you for forever. Good God.”

She groans and curses him under his breath before she scoots over and turns in his arms, slowly but surely moving to face him. “Don’t be an asshole. Also, so I was talking to mom today, and she wants to be called Mimi. I think Dad wants to be called Papa, which I like as long as that’s not what you want. I know that’s what some kids call their dads.”

“Aye, it’s what Lizzie calls Liam, which is weird since Alex doesn’t do that. But I’m okay with dad or daddy, so David can be called Papa.”

“Yeah, I kind of like it. Mimi and Papa. And then your parents are Gammy and Grandpa, right? That’s what Alex and Lizzie call them.”

“Aye, but I know Mom didn’t want to be Gammy. It’s just what happened. She says it makes her feel old.”

“Your mom is not old.”

“I know, but considering your parents are barely fifty while my parents are in their sixties and seventies, it doesn’t help.”

“I’ll tell my parents to get older then.”

He smiles at her before closing his eyes and settling into his pillow, letting his head sink down into the softness. It’s calming in here, the lights turned off and curtains closed while the ceiling fan hums a steady rhythm above them. He could fall asleep like this even if he’s not the biggest fan of naps, always somehow ending up groggy when he wakes up, and it doesn’t help with the way that Emma is playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, her fingers scratching into his scalp.

“Are you working tomorrow?”

He pops an eye open, looking at Emma and smiling when her nail hits a particularly sensitive spot on his neck. “Aye, I’ve got the Investiture ceremony at ten. Why?”

“Just wondering. I was thinking we could go somewhere. Just us. Maybe take Indy to Berkshire and let her run around, spend some time outside.” “We can do it in the afternoon, if you want. I think the weather is supposed to be nice.”

“Yeah,” she sighs, leaning forward and sliding her lips over his for a brief moment, “I think that would be nice.”

The next day after he’s finished with the ceremony, he hurries home, changing out of his suit and into shorts and a t-shirt, slipping a baseball cap onto his head and grabbing something to eat for lunch while Emma does the same, her hair falling out of the back of her hat in a long ponytail. They’ve got all day, but the afternoon’s weather is pleasant enough that he’d like to go now so they can stop by a café for dinner, even if that’s the absolute last thing that Thomas will want them to do.

They want their privacy, but they should be able to go out to dinner.

So he and Emma load up into his car, letting Indy sit in the backseat with the window rolled down so she can feel the mid-July breeze blow through her fur. It doesn’t take long to get to Windsor, pulling into their parking garage less than thirty minutes later, and instead of going inside like they’d usually do, he hooks Indy up to her leash while Emma grabs some water bottles and they head to the private gardens, avoiding the visitors wandering around on tours.

As much as he prefers the spring, mild July days are near the top of his list of favorite things. Everything is brighter, more pleasant. The grass is actually greener, the flowers contrasting against their background to create a landscape of whites and shades of purple, while everything is covered in a clear blue sky, only a few white clouds scattered throughout. New life blooms, and he gets to be the one to appreciate it, to revel in it. England can be so dreary sometimes, the weather somehow reflecting the moods of most people on their morning commute to work, so he appreciates when it’s not. He’s always loved the outdoors, and if there’s any complaint he has about his home, it’s the small private garden that they have to themselves. He’d like something larger, more space to run around, and sometime in the future, he and Emma plan to spend more time in Bucklebury so that they have the privacy.

That’s what they’ve decided on since returning from Spain last month. There’s been more lengthy, draining discussions with his parents and their security team than he’s ever wanted, and as much as he feels like they haven’t really accomplished anything, he knows it’s a slow process. Of course, there are drawbacks to every positive. They’re still going to have to spend most of their time at Kensington. It’s closer to their work, to their families. Hell, Emma’s parents just bought a house so that they could have the ability to spend time with their grandchild, and now they’re going to move away from them. It’s less than an hour drive, but it’s not nearly as close as they currently are.

But everyone understands, and they don’t plan on moving any time soon, not until Andy’s a bit older. They want to be near all of their loved ones when he’s younger, and they’ve spent so much time working on their home, making it exactly how they want. It’d be difficult to leave full time, so it’ll be nice to have the option of both.

It’ll be even nicer to give Andy the most normal life that they can possibly give him.

Emma whistles next to him, her fingers between her lips, while Indy runs back to them from where they let her loose. She was about five seconds away from jumping into a pond full of fish, and as much as they’d usually let her swim, they don’t need to have a wet dog with them for the rest of the day. So she runs back to them as quickly as she can, her legs leaping in the air with her black and white fur bouncing the slightest bit. He’s convinced that she shouldn’t be able to be that quick, but she’s still just a young dog, less than a year old, and though her legs will get longer, he doesn’t think she’ll ever be full of this much energy again.

If she is, he and Emma are definitely in over their heads.

With the dog.

He’s going to choose to not think of what it’ll be like with a toddler than can run and a dog that he can run after.

After she calms from her almost pond dive, Indy walks along in front of the two of them, occasionally wandering off the stone path to sniff around in the plants, nearly tearing up several flowers until they call her back to keep walking. They stay wandering for a little over two hours, not caring where exactly they’re going or if they’re circling back around in the same spots. Indy and Emma get tired around the same time, so they settle down onto a stone bench with a patio cover that’s next to another small pond.

In the distance, he can see the Chapel where they were married, the steeple rising up above the other buildings and stone walls, and he smiles to himself thinking of that day. In the grand scheme of things, he knows that when it comes to he and Emma, as important as it was, they had so many smaller, inconsequential days that he holds just as fondly in his heart.

But that was a pretty damn good day.

He stretches his arm out over the back of the bench, wrapping it around Emma’s shoulder and tangling his fingers into the ends of her ponytail while she leans her head on his shoulder, the bill of her hat hitting him in the chin for a brief moment. He’s glad she suggested them getting away from London for a little bit, for suggesting that they change up the routine and spend a day enjoying summer, especially since they’re missing out on Scotland with the rest of the family.

A month in the same place as everyone is likely a bit long, anyways. He loves his family, but that’s a lot for anyone.

“I love you, you know?” Emma asks out of nowhere, her gaze never falling away from the rippling of the water in front of them, a fish leaping up out of the water while the lily pads float around.

He squeezes her shoulder, rubbing up and down her arm and kissing her head even if she can’t feel it through the hat. “I know. I love you too.”

#second in command #cs ff #cs fic #captain swan fic

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kaunis-sielu · 6 years

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Starstruck: 11

The nerves don’t truly hit until you’re all decked out in your Oscars outfit. Hair done, makeup done, and jewelry on. Steve has texted you that he was on his way, you were holding the silver clutch Manti had picked to your chest as you waited just inside the doors of the Star building. You’d opted to get ready here so that your friends could join you. Carol had even ordered food for everyone, and it’d turned into a party.

12% was styling several celebrities this year and that fact alone was enough for celebration. Nat, Viz, Mora and Manti had been keeping you calm the whole time, and made sure you’d had something to eat.

The limo pulls up and Steve steps out. He looks so, so good. One of the other guys in the office, James, has styled him tonight and god the way his suit fit him made you want to run your hands over the soft fabric.

He’s so confident, smoothly buttoning the front of his jacket then smoothing it down on his way to the doors.

“Have so much fun.” Mora tells you with a hand squeeze. She’d brought Peter along tonight and you’d completely approved, he was smitten with her.

“Thanks you guys.” You say softly and Viz pushes the door open then holds it for you. “Thanks Viz.”

“Have fun.” He whispers with a wink.

“Hey, I was gonna do that.” Steve complains with a smile. “You look stunning as always.” He says taking your hand and slowly twirling you, you can’t help but laugh softly. He has this way of making your anxiety just vanish. “Well done Manti.” She gives him a bright smile.

“You look great.” You tell him softly, straightening his bowtie slightly.

“I’m nothin’ compared to you sweetheart. You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” He presses a quick kiss to your temple then takes your hand in his, you’re both quiet as you make your way to the car.

“I’m going to have you get in first, can you slide in that dress?”

“Enough.” You answer him honestly and he laughs. “You really do look very handsome.” He pulls open the door to the car with a smile.

“Thank you sweetheart.” You slide into the car and he follows you in. God all you want to do is make out with him.

Pictures aren’t so bad, people really only care about him and Tony keeps the two of you moving through the long line of people.

You meet a few of his co-stars, Maria Hill says hello to you with a smile. Nick Fury is as intimating as you’d expected. You even briefly see Sharon and her new husband in the line up ahead of you. Steve’s blue eyes darken and he looks like he’s been punched when she starts over toward you.

“Hey,” You whisper pulling his attention to you, “I can punch her if you want.” This has the desired effect of making him smile.

“Nah. I just can’t believe she wants to come talk to me.” He mutters, not looking up.

“C’mere.” You hum before kissing him soundly. One of your hands wraps around the back of his head and one of his goes to the small of your back, pulling you to him. You’ve never initiated the kissing before now, he lets you set the pace. It’s slow and it’s only when his tongue brushes your lips that you realize that you’re still on the red carpet and in front of hundreds of cameras.

You pull away and he looks like you’ve knocked him over the head.

“Seriously. The best woman I’ve ever met.” He mutters.

Yea right.

You turn back toward where Sharon was and see her standing there with a deer in headlights look on her face.

“Well, it stopped her in her tracks so mission accomplished.” You say out of the corner of your mouth.

“Best. Woman. Ever.” He whispers and you laugh as his arm wraps around you.

You’d gone into the theatre then, you’d been sandwiched between Steve and an actor named Brock Rumlow.

Brock had slowly been taking over your space, you’d moved closer and closer to Steve as Brock kept manspreading more and more.

“Not that I’m going to complain but is there a reason you’re practically on my lap?” Steve whispered.

“I don’t like strangers touching me.” You explain in your own whisper, darting your eyes toward the other man.

“Ah. Next commercial break we can go get some drinks and trade spots.”

“I’d like that.” You mutter back just before a hand touches your butt. You close your eyes and whisper, “Please tell me you just touched my butt.”

“I didn’t.” He seems confused for a second then you watch his face harden. “Switch now.” He says standing suddenly. “Rumlow. Get your hand off my girlfriend.” He snarls as you slide out of your seat and into his.

“You accusing me of something Rogers?” Brock had sneered back.

“I trust her. You? Not so much.” Steve sits down in your seat and makes himself comfortable. “You touch my ass and I’ll break your arm.” He sneers. You reach over and take Steve’s hand, placing it in your lap you gently slide your fingers along the top of his hand. His body slowly loses its tension, and his hand relaxes in yours. “I’m sorry.” He mutters into your ear.

“Please don’t be. You had my back and I appreciate it more than you know.” You say softly back, not meeting his eyes. Steve presses a soft kiss to your jaw, just below your ear and butterflies flit through your stomach.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

The rest of the evening isn’t all that exciting, and the after party that you and Steve go to is really cool. The actor Clint Barton is there, so are Jessica Drew, Kamala Kahn, Jessica Jones and her husband Luke Cage. They’re a fun group of people and you enjoy spending time with them.

It’s nearly two in the morning when you and Steve make your way out of the afterparty.

“Come home with me.” He whispers as you wait for the car.

“Steve-“ Your voice has a warning tone. He’s had a few to drink and so have you and you’re 100% not okay with having sex with him while you’re being paid.

“Just like last time sweetheart.” He assures you as he stares down at you.

“Okay.” You agree softly. The wind blows slightly and you bury yourself into his side. He’s so warm and his tux is soft against your skin. When the car rolls up you climb in then resume this same position, you curling into his warmth.

When you get to his house he gives you the same shirt and shorts he’d given you before and you tug them on. You wash your face then take down your hair, before twisting it back into a bun. Steve is in his pajamas, sitting on the edge of the bed. He goes into the bathroom and when he comes back out he flops down on the bed face first.

“You good?” You ask.

“Yea. Just tired. Thanks for coming with me tonight.”

“It was fun. Well most of it, I didn’t love the whole groping moment but you had my back. Thank you.”

“I got you.” He promises, “Sleep now.”

“Yes.” You agree before burrowing under the covers and scooting closer to him.

Tag list

@dsakita @patzammit @memyselfandmaddox @dragonborn791924 @dramadreamer14 @mychemicalimagines @albinotigerpython @thinkwritexpress-official @mia-at-work @emotionallysalty @shynara51 @alexfayer @thefanficfaerie @got-addict

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gojira007 · 5 years

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Top 5 OTP (of Your Heart)

This is a touch overdue but after @bunnikkila tagged me I had to dedicate a fair amount of time and energy into getting this down right to my satisfaction. And since it IS Valentine’s Day what better time to finally post it? So without further adieu: as originated by @lupizora, my five nearest dearest OTPs with five blogs to Tag so they can share their own five OTPs (if they so choose). (LONG post so it’s under a cut)

1 (with a bullet).) Sonic the Hedgehog X Sally Acorn (Sonic the Hedgehog)

Do you know me? Literally at all? Congratulations, odds are good you know this is my #1 Of All Time OTP Forever And Ever And Always. I’ve said why so many times I prolly sound like a broken record but screw it I’ll say it again because I never get tired of re-iterating the point: I love that for all the teasing and back-and-forth, these two are partners. They trust each other, not only on the battlefield but also in the sense that they’re willing to be open and vulnerable around each other in ways they aren’t with anyone else and in ways that cut through the protective exteriors they build around themselves (Sonic’s Too Cool-ness and Sally’s Always In Control-ness). It isn’t a simple matter of opposites attracting either; it’s a matter of two people who have since their very early childhoods been there for each other and who have grown up having the other to turn to in their most troubled times. To me at least, it’s a profoundly touching bond that has allowed each one to be a lifeline for the other.

2.) WALL-E X EVE (WALL-E)

Honestly I think the thing I love most about this pair is something that I don’t see get talked about nearly enough: how similar they actually are. Obviously the movie frames them as opposites: WALL-E the old blocky earthbound junk-bot and EVE the sleek new space-age flyer. And sure that’s part of it but also...it’s the fact that both of them are looking for something beyond their “Directive”; WALL-E more obviously but just look at how EVE sneaks in a little flight purely for their own enjoyment once they’re sure the ship that brought them to Earth is gone. Look at how quickly they take to all the trinkets WALL-E introduces them to when the two of them first meet. That’s what makes the whole thing work for me: the thing that brings them together is that common spirit of Discovery and Joy.

3.) Rarity X Applejack (My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic/Equestria Girls)

Do you ever start shipping something as a joke only to slowly but surely realize you’ve started shipping it For Real? That’s kind of what happened to me here; initially I took to this pairing more because Rarity and Applejack are my two favorite characters in the show and so the thought of them as a couple amused me but the more I played with the notion the more I started to really appreciate the idea until suddenly I was Legit Into It. And the why is kind of funny; again it’s a case where the obvious Opposites Attract angle is the most obvious but I’m really attracted by the things they have in common (business-mares with a hard-working ethic and a keenly defined sense of Right and Wrong and how to act on it) but then the fact that they’re so different makes those similarities all the more fascinating because of how much even the two of them might not immediately recognize it.

4.) Korra X Asami Sato (Avatar: The Legend of Korra)

Not too long ago this slot probably would have gone to Zuko X Katara, but for this and that reason my passion for that ship has calmed a bit while my interest in this one has ramped up considerably. Even back in LoK’s first season, once Asami quickly asserted herself as one of if not my very favorite characters in the cast, I found her dynamic with Korra fascinating: though the show initially positioned them as rivals for Mako’s affection, their relationship very quickly became one of mutual admiration; even now that’s a weirdly rare thing between women in mainstream media/fiction, and so it endeared me to the idea of them as a couple very quickly. But I also thought it would never ever actually happen...which meant that when against all odds, several years later it did, I fell in love with them all over again.

5.) Garnet X Pearl (Steven Universe)

I admit I’m not sure how strictly I’d say I’d ship these two nowadays? But even so I love this relationship on a lot of different levels, not least of all because it’s probably the one that’s had the rockiest overall course of the five ships listed here. But as something like the Parents of the Crystal Gems (at least within the original group of four though even when you add in Peridot, Bismuth, and Lapis, the comparison still holds to my mind), they’re also the two who have had to turn to each other the most often for support and guidance. And I love that as often as that’s a good, positive thing, it can also lead to some very severe difficulties and frustrations as well. And yet that only makes the relationship itself feel that much richer and thus resonate that much stronger.

Some honorable mentions that just missed the cut:

Luna X Artemis (Sailor Moon)

Adora X Glimmer (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power)

Princess Bubblegum X Marceline (Adventure Time)

Scott Summers X Jean Grey (X-Men)

As for who I tag? Well as always you only have to engage in this meme if you want to but:

@cviperfan, @bookishdelight, @sally-mun, @robotnik-mun, and @boxlunches

#fandom #shipping #meme #sonsal #rarijack #wall e #korrasami #pearlnet #valentine's day #bunnikkila #thanks for tagging me

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nachoscheesy · 3 years

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Automattic, Tumblr, and the future of the site

Hi, my name is Nacho, I am currently a mechanical engineering student in Kansas and I have an idea that could benefit Tumblr and their new owners Automattic.

A little about me, I have been on Tumblr since around 2010 and have seen this site change in a variety of ways. On top of being a current student in mechanical engineering I also have worked in industrial settings doing NDI requiring that I have a very high attention to detail. As well as a sense for process improvement and error reduction.

I tell you this about myself because I want to gain the trust of the Tumblr community, and show that I care about the state of this site as well as its users. I honestly believe if Tumblr mobilizes itself as it has in the past, we could be a force for good and positive change on the (hell) site. As well as stopping the steady decline of the site by people that seem to not want to listen to the community.

I am NOT associated with Tumblr or Automattic in anyway other than being a Tumblr user, I am hoping to gain enough momentum and attention that I would be able to get the attention of @photomatt to work together and develop Tumblr into what it should have always been. I am asking the community to please let me know what all you think are the major issues on this site and app. I have tried to compile to the best of my ability a short list of what I believe are the foundational issues that, if addressed, would allow tumblr to flourish and be a major player on the web.

As someone who has been on the internet for a very long time, I have seen the same trends over and over kill sites like Tumblr. While Tumblr has transformed in a variety of ways the core of the site is still the same. I say all this to prove that I do care about the future of this site and what happens to it, and I fear that Automattic will eventually end up using Tumblr to test out a variety of feature sets for other sites and apps eventually dumping it off again on the highest bidder.

Yahoo and Verizon had issues in marketing to this sites users, as well as its own internal strife with the actual @staff at tumblr offices. I think that is because the changing hands and people in power that have influence over this site are either dethatched from the way Tumblr works as a whole, or have not been listening closely to the inhabitants of the site, possibly both.

First, I wanted to ask the question, what Tumblr isn’t, I do not think that Tumblr is a social media platform in the traditional sense like the big players (Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook.)

I think this might be obvious to some but not all, but Tumblr is a midpoint between social media, content creation, and brand development. With its ability to customize different aspects of a blog to meet hyper specific goals of the brand or user. Tumblr can be a site that makes it possible to cater to the niche or eclectic styles of individual users. As well as the potential for reaching large swaths of audiences with its spiderweb like user interactions.

Tumblr, in essence, is a sort of cross roads on the internet that lends itself to a wide variety of facets of what people want from the internet. Tumblr is also the breeding ground for a lot of creativity and internet culture that gets constantly reposted all over the web. I think this sets Tumblr to be a prime piece of online real estate, in the sense that the site and its users can quickly and effectively propagate a single piece of media with a high content value.

Second, I wanted to look at all the most common issues that plague the site and that have continued to persist over the years. Some of these issues being things like, stability, updates changing entire blog formatting, general quality of life issues like organization and linking to outside accounts, advertisements on the site, and overall clarity in some fundamental ways.

The core issues of what is causing this site to be slowly killed off at the root is multifaceted and can be seen by anyone who has been here long enough, however I think that there is still a chance to make significant improvements to Tumblr as a whole and build the site and app back up from the base itself. I believe if we were able to reestablish a lot of the base expectations that we have come to know from other apps, along with the uniqueness of Tumblr as a whole we would see a steady increase in users again. As well as a fundamental change in the way the Tumblr experience is felt.

I have summarized what I think are the core issues on both the app and the site its self below. This is not an exhaustive list of issues my goal was to understand what makes Tumblr fundamentally work and in what ways we could build a better foundation to highlight the sites strengths, while mitigating its weaknesses.

First – The App

Tumblrs app has been awful for a very long time, with a ton of stability issues and general functionality problems. Personally I almost exclusively use Tumblr through the app and had always wanted to see more quality of life changes done in the way of how other apps function. The Tumblr app feels more like it just works and gets the job done, but not always.

A few other things being what I think are compression issues with the app, and how things posted on desktop don’t look as good on the app. As well as the tagging system not working as intended all the time, with the tags disappearing for each reblog.

Second – Search Feature

The search function on Tumblr is lacking a lot of functionality that I think is pretty standard on other sites, as well as being able to search on a blog for specific posts or even just filtering by liked posts. I think this is one of the main points of contention with Tumblr on both the app and the site, having a search function that can’t return specific results with the ability to modify or filter them is a very baseline thing to have on any site or app.

Third – Bots

This is probably one of the worst issues on Tumblr that does in fact effect everybody, while I personally do not know much about bots and how they work all the way through. However, I do think that if Tumblr were to enable a sort of system that allows users to report bots and suspicious activity would help in mitigating this widespread issue. Bot spam and phishing, is a widespread issue that affects every site on the internet. However, I think if they allowed the site to be self-reporting with a system in place that rewards users who give accurate reports of bots and phishing by moving their reports to the top, while penalizing users who maliciously report users. I know that this might not be a perfect system, but I think allowing a site and its users to self-report and rewarding reporting in good faith would take a large portion of the weight off of Tumblr staff as a whole.

Fourth – Interconnectivity

Here what I mean by interconnectivity, is that Tumblr does not seem to want to play well with other apps or even its own internal links. One of the key things to bringing up the appeal of Tumblr would be to allow for users to be able to link multiple accounts on Tumblr and have their content be posted to all other media platforms as well. The ability to post from a single platform onto several other platforms at once would be a key in continuing the idea of Tumblr being a cross roads as well as an attractive feature for content creators across the internet.

This is a difficult thing to implement given that companies want you to use their app over someone else’s, but if Tumblr did push for a sort of “cross play” I believe it could be standardized for everyone across the web.

So, if youve read this far I greatly appreciate it. What I am asking for right now is for you to follow me, and reblog so I can build up momentum and hopefully bring some long needed TLC to tumblr that it has been missing.

Please PM me with other things you think the site and app are missing on need fixed in the meantime. Or things you think I missed, or should be considered more important, the goal is to bring the tumblr community together to improve the site.

Follow my blog as I continue to try and make a way for tumblr to keep its unique brand of weird. I will be adding a survey to my blog soon that will allow me to compile all the most common issues that the community feels are effecting them. This is just the first step in what I am sure will be a long and winding road to a better tumblr, so thank you in advance.

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curlyshepards · 6 years

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Mary, do you have any tips of how to get over a boy? I am sick and tired of feeling this way.

i am honestly in the SAME BOAT RIGHT NOW AND HERE ARE A FEW THINGS THAT HAVE HELPED ME

• clean out your room and blast somemusic !! it helps distract you and also makes u feel better & more refreshed once everything is organized

• go on walks/runs either early in the morning or at night. i luv being outside during the sunset. its just really relaxing

• start focusing on yourself more! youve probably been so focused on this guy that you havent paid attention to yourself. take a long bath, light some candles, exfoliate, and just take a few minutes to breathe

• remind yourself that you do NOT need this boy in order to be happy. people in a relationship are only as happy as they are out of one. always make yourself happy first

• read poetry! esp ones that build you up, dont focus on the heartbreak ones. @inkskinned is one of my faves

• do what needs to be done and keep yourself busy. always do homework or housework and if you dont have any, then reach out to your friends. keep yourself busy and itll be easier to move on

• go on long drives w the windows down (esp in warm weather) i cant stress this enough, but learn to love life again. it has so many more things to offer you than this boy does

• know that there are gonna be days where you feel as if youve moved on and youre done for good and the next thing you know youre missing the boy you thought you were done with. this is normal, but dont let it hold you back. there might always be a part of you that misses him, just remind yourself that you shouldnt be wasting your love on someone who doesnt deserve it

• listen to your favorite music, watch your favorite movies & shows, eat your favorite foods. find happiness in yourself

• go to a local shelter and hang out w the doggos, theyll always love u and are a great source of happiness

• take each day at a time. there are gonna be good days & there are gonna be bad days, but you’ll get through them. time, if not anything else, will heal your heart, the things listed above are just to make it easier along the way. i know the disappointment youre probably feeling right now, but i promise youre one step closer to finding the boy who will love you like you deserve to be loved

#good luck babe we are in this TOGETHER #ask #anonymous

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itsnirmal888 · 4 years

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New Post has been published on https://pickstofit.com/what-to-do-when-youve-hit-a-weight-loss-or-other-plateau/

What to do When You’ve Hit a Weight Loss (or Other) Plateau

Tell me if this sounds familiar: You started making changes in your life to get healthier and everything was going great. You were seeing progress in the way you felt and looked, your cravings were down, and your energy was up. It was working!

Then, all of sudden it wasn’t.

Despite doing everything right, the scale hasn’t budged in a week, your motivation has hit an all-time low, and you feel totally betrayed by your body. As a health coach, I see a lot of my clients struggling with weight loss plateaus, and feelings that change isn’t happening fast enough. And do you know why? It’s because of this little nugget of truth:

Long-term change is a process.

There’s no such thing as a quick fix for a weight loss plateau. So, if you’ve been holding on to extra weight for years or you’re regularly feasting on fake health foods, don’t expect your habits or your weight to change overnight. It took you awhile to get where you are. And honestly, the faster your “transformation” happens, the faster you’ll undo all your progress.

But I get it. You’re putting in all this hard work, and if you’re still seeing zero or very few changes, just know that your body is a miraculous machine designed to keep you alive and protect you at all costs. When you change your environment, including the type and amount of fuel you consume, your body wants to make sure you’re safe. So, it’s normal to experience plateaus here and there.

Remember, change isn’t an instantaneous event—it takes commitment, patience, and the right strategies to stick with it for the long term. In fact, Australian researchers conducted a qualitative study, interviewing 76 people with a BMI of 30 or over to find out why their previous weight-loss attempts had failed.

In the study, participants received instructions on how to lose weight through various plans, but none were given guidance on how to stick with it. Seventy percent of the participants noted that while no particular diet was better than others for weight loss, tapping into their own motivation for change was the key factor in being successful for the long term.

With that in mind, here are the go-to tips I use in my own practice when my clients feel like they’ve stalled out on progress.

6 Things to do When You’ve Hit a Plateau

1. Remember Where You Started

Maybe you’ve made some progress, but you’re not as far along as you’d like. All you can hear yourself say is, “I can’t believe I’ve only lost 3 pounds,” or “my pants are only a little looser.” Don’t discount how far you’ve come. If you used to buy lunch every day and now you’re taking the time to prep a healthier meal at home, that’s huge. Take a step back and think about how things have changed since you started your journey. Also, have patience.

2. Remember Why You Started

Getting in touch with why you started can help put things into perspective. My Why-by-Five exercise is a tool I use with my health coaching clients to uncover their true motivating factors for change. Just ask yourself why this change is important to you, why that matters, why this reasoning is important, why your goal would be great to achieve, and why it’s important to keep going.

3. Keep a “Proof List”

When things aren’t going exactly as planned, it’s easy to feel like nothing’s working at all. That’s why having a proof list can help you navigate the highs and lows. Every day, write down something positive about your health journey. It could be that you tightened your belt buckle by one notch. Or the Big-Ass Salad you made was so satisfying you didn’t want cookies afterward. Keep a running list and add to it regularly.

4. Set an Intention Versus an Expectation

Expecting that you’ll lose a certain number of pounds or fit into an old pair of pants is the quickest way to disappointment. Instead, set a few healthy intentions. Good examples I’ve heard from my clients are: “I want to be a good role model for my kids,” or, “I am open to taking things one day at a time.” Expectations have a concrete result; intentions are more about your mindset and behavior.

5. Break it Down

Since your goals aren’t going to magically happen overnight, you need a system for making your new healthy habits stick for the long term. I recommend breaking your goal down into mini milestones. Avoiding refined carbs forever feels daunting, but what about avoiding them for this week? By creating mini milestones and then rewarding yourself for reaching them, you’re more apt to maintain your new habits and feel successful doing it.

6. Believe in Yourself

The simple act of believing in yourself plays a big role in achieving your goals faster. According to psychologist Albert Bandura’s Self-Efficacy Theory, if you don’t believe you have the ability to complete a task, you’ll be less likely to start. And if you do start, you’re more likely to give up before it’s finished. Self-efficacy is a sense of personal conviction that you can overcome any challenge you might face and successfully stay the course.

In a world of quick fixes, it’s normal to feel like your goals aren’t happening fast enough. Just know that change is a long-term process that requires commitment, patience, and smart strategies like these:

Remember where you started

Remember why you started

Keep a “proof list”

Set an intention versus an expectation

Break it down

Believe in yourself

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inkstainedfanfics · 7 years

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To a Wonder, From a Fool

Request: YOU ARE A HORRIBLE PERSON AND I HOPE YOU ASCEND TO HEAVEN AND LIVE WITH ALL THE BROKEN SOULS YOUVE BROKEN WITH YOUR FANFICS ...On the other hand, i love you so much and literally live for your writings. PART 5 OF To Newt, With Love PLEASE!!!

Word Count: 2,530

Pairing: Newt x Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Tag List: @red-roses-and-stories @caseoffics @dont-give-a-bother @myrtus-amongst-the-stars @ryeosomnia @fangirlingandcrying @ly--canthrope @heneed-somemilk @gemininomad @adellyhatter-blog @trying-to-benormal @akacheelz @unculturedswines

The evening ends lonely, as it always does. The sun sets in a bath of a million colors, from vivid blues that are deeper than the ocean to pastel greens that remind you of a set of eyes you haven’t seen for a long time.

Too long.

You bite your lip and step onto the walk leading up to your house. It’s a thin trail of concrete that offers little protection from the mud on either side, but, as of a week ago, it’s yours. You follow it up to your new beige front door. After fumbling with the keys, a set of three for the three ways in, you push open the door to a silent house.

You step inside with a sigh, letting the door swing shut behind you as you contemplate the long hours of restlessness that lay ahead. You haven’t been sleeping well since the move. There’s a tree branch outside your bedroom window that screeches against the pane if the wind hits it just right, and the floorboards here make no noise, quite unlike the ones at your old house that would warn you if anyone was passing them. There are no mice running through the walls, but there’s also no lone owl that sits outside your window and sings. There are no char marks on the kitchen wall, no memories of dancing in the main room, no remnants of anything.

A clean slate, or, at least, that’s what Evelyn calls it. “You need a clean slate, a fresh start, and this is it.”

You follow the wide hallway to your kitchen, eyeing the blank walls and trying to imagine what might look good hanging from them. Your frames sit in a box somewhere in the main room, waiting to be unpacked like nearly everything else you own. You’ve only bothered to take out the essentials so far: clothes, some dishes, and a black box you’d promised Evelyn you’d toss.

It sits where it did in your old house: under your bed, pressing up against the wall. That’s where it belongs.

Stepping into the kitchen, you pull open your pantry door, searching the bare shelves for something warm, something to cheer you up. There’s nothing there, though, nothing but a box of crackers and a package of tea left behind by Evelyn when she came to see the house. You decide to make the tea, craving a warm drink and praying it helps you unwind from the stress of work and the move. You listen for your neighbors as the tea brews. Your old house sat in a busy neighborhood, one where everyone was constantly bustling around, talking, shouting, little kids playing in nearby yards, tourists scratching their heads and knocking on doors asking for directions. Here, there’s nothing. Not a sound from your neighbors. They’re all locked in their houses already, reading, you assume, or perhaps knitting or playing family board games. All while you sit here in front of your stove, alone, wondering how long you’ll be lying in bed for before you manage to fall asleep.

The thought surrounds you like the steam from the pot on the stove, more and more joining it every second, and you can’t drive them away, can’t wave away their suffocating implications, their promises that it all meant nothing in the end. Your hope, your days spent next to the window, your jittery excitement as day after day passed right after you sent the letter: It had all been for nothing. You slowly slide down onto the kitchen floor, arms wrapping around your knees as you hold back tears. Newt doesn’t care and, Merlin, you know you shouldn’t either, that after this many years you should be okay with that, but you’d honestly believed he would show up at your house, come in with a grin and open arms and his cute warmth that no one can resist, but he hadn’t. Your front door rested, silent, the entire year after the letter disappeared from your hand. As quiet as your voice when Evelyn asked you if you were all right the day before you moved. As quiet as the house had been the morning after you tore up his letters.

As quiet as your life may as well have been since then.

You’ve traveled, seen the world, gathered experiences most people only write stories about, but it doesn’t matter because you’ve never truly lived them. You’ve made friends, but none of them are friends that understand you like Newt did, that know what you’re thinking before you do, that understand how you tick without having to work at it. He knew you in a way no one else ever could, and you know now that you let that go, pushed it away.

You drop your head onto your knees, small whimper leaking from your lips as two tears drip down your face. How could you have let that go? How could you have given up on him that way? He was all you wanted, not all you had but all you cared for, and you let him go over another woman. God, if you could just go back and take it all back, give him that watch without cursing, hug him and tell him that you love him more than anything, tear Leta from his arm and send her anywhere else in the world, you’d do it. You’d do it in a heartbeat.

Which would be rather quickly, given how your heart slams against your ribs right now as you cry quietly to yourself, tea completely forgotten. You ache to remember the warmth of his hugs, and the way his freckles dotted across his nose, and how he always knew when to bring you a chunk of chocolate. The argument was a silly fight, a battle of pride you never should have given in to.

You stand, wiping away your tears, trying to convince yourself that you believe it’s his fault. He was the one lying to you, he was the one that ditched you, he was the one that gave you reason to push him away.

You find a small comfort in realizing that a small part of you believes that, accepts that some of this is Newt’s fault. The typical anger follows this revelation, a familiar, comforting anger you know you can easily welcome. You can accept it, embrace it, make this all Newt’s fault.

But it isn’t. That would be a lie, just like believing he would show up was a lie, and you’re sick of lying to yourself.

You pour your tea into your favorite mug and hold it in both hands, leaning against your counter as you consider everything from the past few years. The initial betrayal, the way your heart tore when he looked down at Leta, the look on his face when you cursed at him, then the feel of the wood under you as you sobbed over him and his choices. Then finding that box filled with the letters, all fixed, something you’d never expected, never thought would happen, watch and key safely snuggled atop them with a simple note telling you he’d forgiven you. You fiddle with the mug. He’d never replied to your own message of regret, a sign you take as proof that he left his note as a sign of moving on. He doesn’t want to be your friend anymore, doesn’t want to risk the awkward conversations and sad memories. You swallow your grief.

Then you let him go, let go of the old memories, let go of everything you hold for and against him. You turn him into nothing more than a regret you’ll leave in your past. That’s all he can be for your sake.

The sun dips under the horizon, leaving a murky blue blanket behind. A cue to head upstairs. Your new job as a magical creature caretaker starts early enough at eight, a full night of sleep will help.

You walk through the empty hall again, ignoring the spots that stare at you, begging for a picture.

You’ll have to find new ones to fill the spaces.

You’re halfway up the staircase when you realize you forgot to lock the front door. You heave out a long sigh as you turn around, plodding back down the stairs, steps heavy.

A small window near the top of the door offers you the chance to peek out to your front stoop, which has so far been rather useless since the only person that stops by is Evelyn. You freeze now, though, still a quarter of the way up the steps when you see a shadow moving outside.

No one should be here, not at this hour. Evelyn should be at home with Dorothy, reading her stories and tucking her into bed, and you haven’t told anyone else your new address yet.

A burglar. Your hands shake and you bend down slowly, eyes never leaving the shadow, to place your mug on the step, freeing both hands. Your wand appears in your hand with a wordless spell, and you steel yourself for a potential fight.

Then the intruder knocks.

You blink. You’ve never heard of a burglar knocking. Perhaps… perhaps it’s a neighbor, asking to borrow something or invite you to the neighborhood. Weird time, but then again, your neighbors seem kind of weird.

Stepping slowly, you approach the door, wand still ready if it’s necessary.

The room falls silent as you rest your hand on the knob, lip between your teeth, debating whether to open the door. Figuring you should have the upper hand in surprise, you yank it open, stepping to the side with the door in case the person lunges for you.

You look up. All the air rushes from your lungs as you stare up at familiar, green eyes.

“I, um, have a housewarming gift.” The green-eyed man procures a bundle of daisies from behind his back, freckles hidden in his flushed face, hands shaking slightly.

Your wand clatters to the ground as you throw your arms around his shoulders, wrenching him down to your height.

Newt hesitates, arms out, letting you hug him for a few seconds before he wraps his own around you, holding you against him. You don’t care that he waits, that he paused. You just hold him tight against you, breathing in his smell, reveling in the musky scent and the scratch of his jacket against your cheek. He’s back. Newt’s back.

You laugh against his shoulder, squeezing him tighter and tighter until there’s no space between the two of you, until you can’t tell where you end and he begins. You just hold him, eyes watering in exhilaration and elation. Newt’s back.

He doesn’t waver in his own grasp, something that surprises you, given that he’s never been very fond of hugs. He grips you as tightly as you grip him, though, not letting go until you’re a teary mess and step back, wanting to see him, take him in fully.

A new, white scar crosses the bridge of his nose, and black crescent moons hang under his eyes. His hair is a long mess, unkempt curls grazing the middle of his neck. He’s pale, too, as though he hasn’t slept well, which only emphasizes the black circles.

You don’t consider that this should be awkward, should be uncomfortable, should be full of apologies and stuttering. You just reach up to poke the scar.

“What’s this from?”

Newt laughs breathlessly once, still trying to accept that you’re there, in front of him for the first in five years. “Niffler attack.”

You scrunch your face up in confusion.

He shakes his head. “Don’t try to take an emerald necklace. What about you?”

His hand raises to trail over a long scar carved across your temple close to your hairline.

“Horntails don’t like chicken.”

His smile quirks up as his hand drops to his side. “You tried to feed a dragon chicken?”

You shrug, glowing at his smile. You’ve missed it oh so much. “It was my lunch break.” You bask in his warm laugh.

Newt glances around the front hall, eyes stopping on your mug. “Decorating seems to be going well.”

You snatch it up, making a face at him. “It doesn’t usually sit there.”

“No?” Newt says, holding back another laugh.

“No.” You pause, fiddling with the cup, spinning it and watching the liquid vortex inside. “But if you’d like some, I have another glass.”

Newt stills, not breathing, knowing the entire future of your friendship hangs on this answer.

“That’d be lovely.”

You heart starts beating again and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, smile becoming shy as you nod toward the kitchen. “It’s just down this way.”

Newt’s own smile brightens as he nods, swooping down to grab your wand. “Your weapon.”

You roll your eyes at his smirk. “You could have been a burglar for all I know. Does a single person living alone in this town seem completely protected to you?”

Newt’s smile softens as he follows you into the kitchen. “With you being the hypothetical single person? No, I suppose not.”

You fake a scowl at him as best you can with the happiness bubbling from your chest. “Who said I have to be that person?”

The skin around his eyes wrinkles up as he lays the flowers still in his hand on the table. “Experience.”

“Whatever.”

He steps past you, grabbing a tall glass and filling it with water. “You are the one that nearly stepped onto a moving staircase as it was shifting away.”

“An accident, completely.”

He drops the flowers in the makeshift vase as you pour more tea into another mug. “It’s still proof that you’re the least safe person I have ever met.”

You take the flowers, noticing a tag around one stem that says To a Wonder, From a Fool. He takes the mug, not noticing your pause, and you meet his eyes, a weight you’d carried for five years lifting from your shoulders as he sits at the table and continues talking, teasing you, acting like nothing happened between the two of you. He explains that he received the address from Evelyn, who stopped him outside your own house. It had taken him a week to earn her trust enough to receive it, but now he’s here and he’s glad. He’s so glad. You grin at him, sipping your tea, telling him you’ll thank Evelyn the next time you see her. Then you ask about his long hair, teasing him about the mess it has become.

You both said your apologies multiple times over throughout the past few years in notes and actions. There’s no need to give them now, no need to worry if the other harbors resentment. Not when Newt’s jacket sleeve droops down to reveal the heavy watch and your black box sits upstairs under the bed, Newt knowing you never tossed it.

You don’t need to worry about becoming friends again. You just need to worry about remembering every great story from the past five years that Newt hasn’t heard yet.

#newt scamander #newt Scamander x reader #newt Scamander imagine #fbawtft #sequel #requested #yoooooo I hope you all like this!#I'm gonna miss writing this series #it was so much fun #but I hope you all like this a lot and enjoyed the series as much as I did #thank you so much for all the support and kind comments on the previous parts!#they meant a lot #tysm #and have an amazing day!

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