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soulmate-game · 3 years

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Hawkmoth was a bitch, and Marinette meant that with every fiber of her soul. Fu was also a bitch, and Marinette actually had good memories of the guy. Not many, but she had some. The fact that the guy got two ten-year-olds to become super heroes and fight a supervillain for him kinda soured those memories, though. But with Chat Noir not allowed to leave his house? Yeah, even as young as they were it only took about a year to find out who HawkMoth was and another year to take him down.

Except, that left Marinette alone. The final battle took her mom away, and Chat had to move out of Paris after his dad was arrested. Luckily Jagged allowed her and her papa to move into his house in Gotham, and everything was…

Well, it was okay. For about a month.

Then her dad was gone too, and she had no way to talk to Jagged, and the police were scaring her—

Yeah, that was the basic order of events that led to where she was now. Pushing fourteen years old, ex-superhero, protector of a magical box of gods, stealing the tires off of a very nice motorcycle.

Marinette was tempted to just take the whole thing, she loved bikes and knew she could drive it. But the thing had more security than she knew what to do with, and the fact that it belonged to Red Hood… she didn’t want to deal with trackers today, thanks. So the tires it was.

Should she maybe care more about the fact that she was stealing from a vigilante with a violent streak? Maybe. Did she? Hell no. For all she knew, maybe Red Hood was a bitch too. (Yes, she was still learning English slang. She was fluent by educational standards, but learning how to curse in a foreign language was fun and she still had a little bit to go. Her few street friends were very happy to help).

A shadow dropped down in front of her, and Marinette’s hero instincts kicked in. The tire iron she was using cut through the air, slamming right into the side of Red Hood’s knee.

—*—*—*—*—*

“Hood,” Batman’s voice grumbled over the comms, instantly grabbing the attention of everyone else who was on the comms. It wasn’t as gruff as he usually sounded, in fact it almost sounded like… he was trying not to laugh?

“Did you get gassed by Joker?” Dick asked before Jason got a chance to respond. “Need backup?”

“No,” Batman responded, sounding a little more composed. “Not a rogue. But Hood, I need you to join me at my location as soon as possible.”

Finally getting the chance to talk, Jason responded a little warily; “Sure, B. Wait,” he blinked at the location that was sent to him. “Isn’t that where my bike is parked?”

Batman didn’t respond at first, only the sound of labored breathing— again, as if he was trying not to laugh. “Just get here, Hood.”

Sighing, but not too mad since the night had been fairly quiet so far, Jason decided to humor the old man and head over. When he could see the cape-clad back of Batman, he easily leapt over the last roof and sauntered over.

“Okay, B,” he had his thumbs tucked in his pockets as he drawled. “What’s the issue?”

Batman was grinning. As in, actually showing amusement. And he just pointed down, straight at Hood’s bike.

Jason rolled his eyes under his helmet, turning to look. At first he didn’t see anything amiss, until he saw movement and looked harder. Oh. Oh, holy shit.

“Is that a kid?”

“Yep,” Batman’s grin grew.

“Is she… stealing my tires?” Hood was so, so glad he wore a helmet that hid his expression. Because… wow.

“Yep,” Batman finally lost his composure, chuckling. “This seems like Karma, don’t you think?”

“And you just watched her so you could rub it in,” Jason groaned, throwing his head back in exasperation. Of course he would. Nobody knew it (except the other heroes who knew him) but Batman was a petty little jerk when he wanted to be. He bought the whole Daily Planet just to spite Clark, for crying out loud.

“Don’t adopt her,” Batman said as he stood up, patting Red Hood’s shoulder. “It looks like she’s almost done.”

“Shit,” Jason hissed, looking down to see that she was, actually, very close to being done. She had already had one tire completely free by the time he had arrived, and now she was only seconds away from getting the other one completely free.

He took a quick assessment— she was tiny, and really thin. Definitely a street kid, he thought, though he didn’t recognize her. He knew most of the street kids that stole to get by, nowadays, which meant she must have been fairly new. But even though she seemed to know what she was doing, her small frame made her take longer unscrewing the tires than it normally would have taken. Sure that she wasn’t a threat by any stretch of the imagination, he jumped down. His plan had been to startle her a little by showing up out of nowhere, but he didn’t want to scare her too badly. Just make her jump a little.

But he had underestimated her, it seemed. Without wasting a second, she jumped up and swung her tire iron at his knee. He cursed, she was a lot faster than her had been expecting. He was able to move so that the weapon only clipped the side of his knee, his knee pad thankfully taking the worst of it. She still hit hard enough to make him stumble and hiss in pain though, which was an accomplishment.

That’s when she abandoned her weapon and her tires, darting to try and escape only for Batman to drop down and block her escape. Though really, it was the grin Batman had that scared the girl most of all, apparently, making her slowly back away from him.

“Please stop smiling,” she begged with a faint French accent to her words. “It is not natural.”

That made Red Hood laugh, already recovered and right behind her. He plopped a gloved hand on her head.

“I know, it’s creepy right?” He joked. “What’cha doin’ stealing my tires, kid? I kinda need them to drive anywhere,” he was careful to keep his voice light and devoid of any anger. He wasn’t really upset, all told. It would be hypocritical of him if he was.

She looked between the two vigilantes for a moment, clear intelligence behind those bright blue eyes as she seemed to consider something. Suddenly she pulled away from Red Hood and stepped away from his reach, straightening up and trying to look tall.

“My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she said as firmly as she could. “My father was Tom Dupain, he was killed in a mugging three months ago. We were living in a house that our family friend leant to us after my mother’s death six months ago, and we moved here from Paris. I haven’t been able to contact him, and the police… I don’t trust them,” she admitted, clearly seeing this as the chance she had been waiting for. “I have been living on the streets since my father died. I am sorry for trying to steal your tires, Monsieur Red Hood. But it was a risk I had to take.”

“Did you expect us to catch you?” He asked, crossing his arms as he re-evaluated the girl. She was a lot stronger than he had assumed earlier, both physically and mentally. She seesawed her hand to indicate ‘kinda’.

“Even if you didn’t, I could make good money off your tires,” she justified with a shrug. “To me, I would win either way.”

“Who is your family friend? Can he help you now, take you in?” Batman asked, moving forward and kneeling down to be closer to Marinette’s height. Neither he nor Jason had missed the part where she was an orphan, but they had expected that considering what they had caught her doing. And they both knew that she wasn’t likely to take any apologies they tried to offer very well. It was best not to show pity, or she might get angry.

Marinette frowned. “... Our family friend is Jagged Stone. He lets me call him Uncle Jagged,” she told them, clearly expecting the disbelieving grunts they gave. “I mean it! You can call him, he might even be looking for me! I—“

“We know,” Hood assured her, now kneeling down as well. Man, she was short. “Calm down, we know you’re telling the truth. Jagged has made several public announcements about his missing honorary niece, we just didn’t recognize your name right away. And Jagged doesn’t have access to very many pictures of you, those he does have the Mayor isn’t allowing him to show because that spineless jackass—“

“Language, Hood.”

“—Cares more about keeping bad press off the air than finding a kid, even if it’s a world famous rockstar who’s asking. That’s probably why you haven’t heard anything, the mayor’s keeping it off the radio and not many reporters are brave enough to take the story and get on his bad side.”

“Oh…” Marinette took a deep breath, fighting the tears that were threatening to rise up. “He has been looking…” she sniffled, curling in on herself a little. “Can you take me to him?”

“I think we can do that,” Batman agreed, standing up. “I’ll contact him. Red Hood, can you handle everything here until I give you a place to meet up with Jagged Stone?”

Jason nodded. “No problem, B. Come on, little rabid pixie. Step one of gettin’ you back to your uncle is to help me fix my bike back up.”

Marinette sighed, shoulders dropping. “All my hard work, undone…” she playfully complained. But in the end she didn’t argue or fight against it, she just sat down and helped him reattach his tires.

All the while, Jason’s family kept teasing him over the comms. Clearly they were also thoroughly amused by the cosmic display of karma.

“...Monsieur Hood,” Marinette asked once they were done repairing the motorcycle and he had given her his too-big extra helmet. He tilted his head a bit to show he was listening. She squirmed. “Can… can we stop by my hideout? I have something really important I have to get.”

Jason smiles gently under his mask. She might not have been a street kid for very long, but she really did bring back some memories for him. He got on his bike and held a hand out to her.

“Sure thing kid. Wanna grab something to eat after? Can’t have a reunion on an empty stomach.”

She gave him a lopsided smile— not quite overjoyed, but definitely hopeful and thankful. Maybe this was the end of her streak of bad luck, she could only hope.

“Only if you don’t mind, Monsieur Hood,” she agreed before taking his hand and letting him help her onto the bike.

“No skin off my back, pixie,” he assured her. Then they were off. He followed her directions until they got to an abandoned building about three miles away, not in a good part of town at all but at least not in crime alley. Marinette easily led him through the building, skirting around other piles of ratty blankets and up broken stairs until they got to the badly-maintained top floor. She led him over to an almost invisible door in the concrete wall that pulled out to reveal what was probably a broom closet once upon a time. It was crowded with what looked like junk and empty boxes, along with a few blankets and two or three changes of clothes that were clearly her’s. A few belongings scattered around— a book, a small pink purse, and… Marinette came out of the pile of mess holding what had clearly been a very carefully hidden box. She also grabbed the purse and slung it over her shoulder, but didn’t seem worried about anything else.

Jason frowned at the box. It wasn’t that big, but it was clearly made of old wood. There were intricate carvings that were painted pink, in a symbol that was itching at the back of his mind. He recognized that symbol, but from where?

“Ready to go, kid?” He asked as he thought about it, getting a nod from Marinette. Twenty minutes later they were at a Batburger, sitting in a shaded booth that couldn’t be seen from the street.

She never let the box out of her sight. She kept it on the seat next to her, and Jason noticed that she tried to keep one hand on it at all times. But when she spoke, now her French accent stood out to him even more than before. But why—?

And then it clicked. Paris. Hawkmoth. Ladybug, Chat Noir, magic artifacts called Miraculous. Wonder Woman had raised a fuss when the heroes disappeared, declaring that something was wrong but she couldn’t put her finger on what. Then the magic users they trusted were called in, and returned from Paris with the grim news that the former Guardian of those artifacts had activated a failsafe and passed the guardianship on to someone else while erasing his own memories at the same time. But nobody knew who he could have passed it on to, so Batman had been given the green light to do all the research he and his team could into the Miraculous box to try and help track it down.

And here it was. The carvings were in pink now, which might have been the “cosmetic change” that Constantine had mentioned might happen when the box changed guardians. He had found the box full of super powerful magical artifacts… in the hands of a newly orphaned street kid who couldn’t have been older than fourteen at best.

What the hell?

“...” Red hood reached into his pocket and pulled out an old receipt and a sharpie. He scrawled on the back of the receipt and handed to Marinette. The girl was halfway into a bite of her burger when he did, and blinked at him owlishly before swallowing and cautiously reaching out to grab it. She frowned at the numbers scrawled there.

“What’s this?” She asked.

“My contact info,” he explained. “I won’t ask questions about why you have that box,” he watched her instantly stiffen but continued as casually as he could; “but it doesn’t matter. You can call me if you ever need help with anything, kid. Help with that box, help if you get in trouble in Gotham again, or even if you’re having a bad day. You can call me for whatever, got it? I don’t care if you think it’s stupid, if you can’t talk to anyone else in your life you can always call or text me and I’ll do whatever I can. Got it?”

“...” Marinette sniffled for a second and looked down at the table in silence for a second. “... what if I want your motorcycle?” she joked, but the watery tone of her voice gave her away.

Jason laughed, patting her head. “I need my bike, but we can talk about getting you your own once you are old enough to get a license. You almost done? Bats says that Jagged is ready to meet you, I can take you to him right now.”

“Yeah, lets go!” she was newly energized and shoved the last bite of burger into her mouth greedily. “And Red Hood?” She asked as they headed out to where he had parked.

“Yeah, kid?”

“Thanks.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Permanent tag list (I remembered it this time!)

@rosalineandrosemary @neakco @justanotherfanficlovinbitch @trippingovermyfeet @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @bigpicklebananatree @fantasylover-92 @prongs-flowers @jumpingjoy82 @prettylittlebutterflie @queenz-z @literaryhiraeth @waffelyunsure @deathssilentapproach-blog @waiting247 @theirlmikan @unoriginalmess

#maribat #ml x dc #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #dc x miraculous #soulmate-game #platonic jasonette

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kumqu4t · 4 years

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birthday with the company headcanons!

☆ a birthday gift to two wonderful people, @trxblemaker and @rowandor whose birthdays are on the 13th and 14th respectively!

☆ (platonic!company/reader)

☆ takes place after BOTFA, everybody lived!!

☆ kind of angsty at the beginning but dON’T WORRY THERE IS MUCH COMFORT AND FLUFF TO MAKE UP FOR IT!!!!

☆ target audience- teen reader

☆ (y/bday)= your birthday

☆ (y/n/a)= your new age

you were slowly but surely getting settled into erebor, your new home

shortly after the battle, you found yourself adopted by EVERY MEMBER OF THE COMPANY

you now wore braids with handmade beads in your hair, one for each family

you lived in erebor, obviously

and all the other families, lived in rooms in the same hallway

you spent most of your time exploring

and the company weren’t the only ones you spent time with

dís had taken a liking to you quite fast, proving to be a much appreciated maternal figure in your life

tauriel was like a sister to you. someone you could prank kíli with, but also go to for advice and a listening ear

so basically you never had to worry about being lonely

things had been pretty quiet and uneventful for awhile

until, on one ordinary day, you made the mistake of bringing up your birthday

you were walking aimlessly around erebor, simply exploring and enjoying the view

when kíli bounded up to you, a smile lighting up his face

“company supper coming up! you will be in attendance, right (y/n)?”

“it’ll be great fun,” he continued. “we’re planning to head to the library after and tell stories while enjoying a few drinks.”

“no drinks for you though, little sister,” he added as an afterthought, ruffling your hair playfully

kíli now looked at you expectantly, waiting for your response

“oh that sounds great,” you answered after a pause. “what day is it planned for?”

“(y/bday) at 6:00!” kíli answered

you responded without thinking

“oh that’s my birthday! i’ll be turning (y/n/a). huh! with the quest and the battle and everything it must have slipped my mind! anyways, of course i’ll be coming, i can’t wait!”

you looked at kíli to see him frozen in place, a pained expression on his face

“kíli?”

you waved a hand in front of his face “earth to kíli?”

he jerked to life, flashing you a quick smile that looked more like a grimace

“terribly sorry (y/n), but i must be off! i think i heard uncle calling!”

you stared after him for a few more minutes, feeling confused

you definitely did not hear thorin calling

well that was weird

brushing it off, attributing it to kíli just being kíli, you went about the rest of your day as usual

oddly, you didn’t see much of the company that day, or in the rest of the days following

you didn’t see bilbo, dís, or tauriel either

and you usually spent time with at least one member a day

but now they were nowhere in sight

and if you did see them, they would make an excuse and quickly dash away

so by the end of the week you were feeling a little down

you didn’t know what you had done wrong

and you missed spending time with your family

you wondered if maybe dwarves didn’t celebrate birthdays? but even so, they had never avoided you like this before

some unfortunate thoughts came to you

‘maybe now that the quest is over and i can’t be of service in any way, they don’t care about me anymore? maybe i don’t fit in here in erebor?’

your sadness soon mingled with anger, and your anxiety remained

creating an uncomfortable knot in your stomach and a lump in your throat

what did you do to deserve this? they could at least tell you why

you had saved their sorry butts so many times

and when you saw them again, you planned to kick their sorry butts all the way to next tuesday for avoiding you

the day of the company supper (and your birthday) finally came

and despite your anger and confusion, you still decided to go

for multiple reasons

mostly because you wanted to confront them and ask why you had been ignored all week

and you also heard that bombur was making his famous apple tart with raspberry jam

evening came sooner than you realized

you saw that the clock read 5:45 and readied yourself as fast as possible

you quickly dressed yourself in your favorite outfit, pulled a cardigan over it, and ran a brush through your hair

you rushed down the long halls of erebor, keeping your pace quick

you finally turned the corner and came face to face with what had been dubbed as the “company room,” for all the time they spent in it

you felt your hand shake slightly as you grasped the cool metal handle

slowly, you opened the door, preparing to be met with the high, stone walls and rich velvet furniture

but you opened the door to find... nothing?

you squinted your eyes, trying to see into the pitch black room

“hello,” you called out. “thorin? fíli? kíli? is anyone here?”

all of a sudden, the candles and lanterns were lit, and people jumped out from behind furniture and under tables

“SURPRISE,” they yelled. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY (Y/N)!”

you didn’t say anything for a few seconds

you could only stare, dumbfounded, at the people in front of you

everyone was there. the whole company, including bilbo, dís, and tauriel

“w-what?” you tentatively asked. “what is going on?”

kíli piped up, a large smile on his face

“it’s your birthday party!! don’t you like it? we’ve spent all week planning it!”

you took quite a few seconds to look around the room

it was decorated with streamers made of beautiful fabric, and banners hung from the walls

a large pile of wrapped gifts lay in the corner

and in the center of the room was a huge table with a feast fit for a king

as the clocks on the wall continued to tick, you heard dís mutter “kíli if you got the date wrong i swear to mahal...”

you spoke up, “no, no. he’s right. it is my birthday. but... i don’t understand. you guys did all of this... for me?”

bilbo stepped forward, thumbing his suspenders, “why of course! it’s your birthday! we wouldn’t miss a chance to properly celebrate our girl’s birthday.”

“so you guys weren’t avoiding me all week because you think i don’t belong in erebor?” you asked

the room exploded with yells of anger, confusion, and outrage

“why in durin’s name would you think that?” thorin asked after the chaos died down, furrowing his brows in confusion.

“well you guys were avoiding me all week. i didn’t know what to think.”

dori hurried over to you, draping a blanket around your shoulders and steering you towards the couch.

“yes dear, come this way, and we will explain everything. don’t you worry, sweetling,” he soothed.

everyone gathered to find seats around you

kíli shifted uncomfortably on his feet and bit his lip. “i’m so sorry (y/n)! when i found out your birthday was coming up, i felt terrible that we didn’t know sooner, so i hurried to collect everyone and devise a plan.”

ori interjected, a worried frown on his face, “we were all so excited to plan your party, we must have forgotten to keep you distracted.”

“we meant no harm by it,” fíli added.

“aye,” said thorin. “and about that complete and utter nonsense you were spouting earlier: you belong in erebor just as much as any dwarf here. you are our family. and we wanted to celebrate you today.”

of course, you burst into tears

*cue panicked company*

“oh mahal, what did we do now?”

“i bet thorin said something wrong” “shut up dwalin”

“oh no lass, please don’t cry!”

through your sobs, you somehow found your way over to thorin, seeking cuddles

he scooped you up and sat you gently in his lap

you buried your face in his chest, clutching at his tunic with your hands, allowing his scent of smoke and pine trees to wash over you

his large hand rubbed soothing circles on your back as he mumbled assurances

bilbo held and stroked your hand gently

and you felt others reaching out with their own soothing touches

you eventually found yourself at the center of a huge group hug, not that you minded at all

group hugs did seem to be inevitable in this family

through tears, you explained that you were relieved, and so very thankful for the party

you apologized for jumping to conclusions and overreacting, but everyone insisted you had nothing to apologize for

after you eventually calmed down enough, bofur spoke up

“well i think you’ve done enough cryin’ this evenin,’ now haven’t ye’ lass? it is your birthday after all. i say we start the party!”

everyone agreed

as you all found seats at the table, you allowed yourself a moment to admire the spread

bombur had truly outdone himself this time

the table was full of food of all sorts. salted pork, mince pies, all kinds of cheeses, potatoes, biscuits, sausages, meats, and stews.

oh and don’t forget the ale- and lots of it!

you sat and ate until your stomach could handle no more

all the while listening to and telling stories, and laughing as bilbo reprimanded the dwarves’ bad manners

then came dessert

the company insisted to do by “your people’s traditions” and sing you happy birthday.

they were completely off key and didn’t know the tune at all

but it was perfect. it was more than perfect.

you dug into a few small slices of your favorite flavor of cake

fili may or may not have smashed kili’s face into his cake, leading to a wrestling match that had to be broken up by dwalin

after cake, came presents

once you saw all of the boxes, you protested vehemently, insisting you didn’t need all of this

which led into many more speeches preaching that you deserve all of this and more

so with a light blush staining your cheeks, you opened the gifts one by one

they were perfect

- forged by thorin: a sword with various gems emblazoned on the hilt (“so you can properly threaten any suitors you find yourself approached by in the coming months”)

- from bilbo: a handmade handkerchief embroidered with your initials and your favorite flowers (“well this would have come in handy earlier, now wouldn’t it?”)

- from fíli: one of his lucky knives (“see here, you can strap it on your thigh for easy access”)

- from kíli: a poorly knitted bear with one eye sewed on haphazardly (he made it himself, and he tried his best) because you had mentioned missing your stuffed animals before

- from tauriel: miruvor that she acquired from rivendell (for emergency’s- just in case)

- from dís: a quilt with the lonely mountain embroidered on it (“to keep you warm and remind you of home”)

- from balin: a collection of classic dwarven stories in a thick, leather-bound book

- from dwalin: a fluffy fur coat and a pair of gloves (“a wee lass like you will freeze in these winters without proper protection”)

- from ori: a beautiful portrait of yourself

- from nori: hair pins that also function as lock picks (“s’no harm in being careful”)

- from dori: your favorite tea (“a warm cup of tea is both the perfect way to start the day and the perfect way to end the day”)

- from bifur: a beautiful bouquet of flowers, hand picked and arranged by him

- from bofur: an intricate wooden carving of your favorite animal

- from bombur: a bountiful basket of honey cakes, carefully wrapped for future snacking

- from oin: fancy haircare and skincare supplies

- and from gloin: a necklace with a beautiful stone pendant

it was entirely too much, but, as you have come to learn, your family doesn’t do simple

especially when it comes to you

you thanked everyone many times, not knowing how to fully express your gratitude

the night, as kili had promised, followed with many stories and much laughter

and lots of ale

you tried to sneak a sip of thorin’s

AS A JOKE

a joke that he did not find very amusing

you spent the rest of the evening listening to tales of old, your head drooping to rest on tauriel’s shoulder

you recall the night getting darker, the fire slowly burning out, and the laughter becoming quieter

the gentle pressure of a coat being placed on you

and strong arms wrapped around your small frame, pulling you to a warm chest

helping you easily drift off into a peaceful sleep

you woke up in the early morning next day, before the sun had even risen

apparently everyone had become so tired and it was so late that they decided to just sleep in the “company room” for the night

no one had any sense of personal space while they slept not that you minded

you felt arms wrapped around you and draped over your stomach, hands brushing yours, feet propped up on you, and more

all were asleep, save yourself

you sat up slowly, careful not to disturb the others, and took a look around

to soak it all in

to enjoy the moment

snoring dwarves

a hobbit, curled up in a cocoon of blankets

an elf, hugging a pillow close to her chest as she slept

and you, right in the middle of it all

you gave a small smile as you eased yourself back onto the couch

this was peace

this was contentment

this was home

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kmseokjins · 5 years

Text

Twisted Tails (Chapter 2)

Fandom: BTS Pairing: BTS x Reader / (Future) Poly!OT7 x Reader / Hybrid!BTS x Human!Female!Reader Warnings: angst again, but not too bad Words: 3.4k (It could have been longer)

Summary: You return to the shelter the next day for the interview and to see Jimin and Namjoon again.

Hybrids: GermanShepherd!Namjoon, BirmanCat!Jimin, more to come later!

Notes: Here it is, folks! Chapter 2! This has been just been collecting dust for a few days, and I decided that it had enough in it to pass as Chapter 2. I was going to add more, but the resolution to the shelter conflict will come next chapter. :)

Archive Of Our Own || Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

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You had gone home entirely exhausted from the events of the day, anxiety for the following day creeping over you no sooner than you had left the shelter after filling out the paperwork. You had lugged the box onto your kitchen counter, unable to bring yourself to shuffle through the contents; you would worry about it later, when you could actually focus. From dealing with your late sister’s lawyer plus the revelation that you were possibly only steps away from being a hybrid owner, you couldn’t bring yourself to summon the energy required for anything besides a hot shower and collapsing into bed.

You had been intent on visiting Namjoon and Jimin after you’d filled out the adoption paperwork, but Jackson had advised you against doing so.

“Jimin might not let you go this time,” He had joked with a chuckle before his expression turned somber and serious, “I know you’re probably sick of hearing this, but I’m sorry about your sister. It’s never easy losing someone.”

You had managed a weak smile in response, “Yeah, it’s been...difficult.” You had never thought you would lose your sister, at least not so young. She was really your only family connection left, aside from your estranged mother and your late father’s brother.

Neither of you have heard from your mother for years (and she hadn’t even attended the funeral) and to be honest, you didn’t really want her drama in your life. Your uncle was the only family that your sister and yourself kept in constant contact with, even though he lived a few hours away.

“Jackson,” You started carefully, tapping the pen a few times on the countertop, “I..can you tell me how Namjoon and Jimin were when they were first brought here?”

Jackson frowned as he looked away from you for a moment, leaning back against the countertop, “It was heartbreaking,” He answered after a few moments of silence, “Jimin was beside himself, crying. He wouldn’t let anyone touch him besides Namjoon, and Namjoon was...emotionless.” Jackson rubbed a hand over his face, “I can’t believe the officers brought them here, especially since you were around.”

You sighed, “I was so busy with arrangements and work that I didn’t even think about them. I...I don’t know why. I should have. When the lawyer said my sister gave them to me, that’s the first time they even crossed my mind. I’m glad they were brought here though and not to one of the less...adequate shelters. I don’t think I could ever forgive myself.”

“You were grieving, it’s understandable. You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

“Yeah...but I might be too late.”

You had followed Jackson’s advice and didn’t stop to see the two hybrids before you left and went home. You felt bad doing so, but perhaps not seeing them again was a good thing. You certainly didn’t have the heart to tell them that there was a chance they wouldn’t go home with you.

Mrs. Choi had said that the decision was ultimately up to the hybrid, but you had a feeling that she had a double meaning to such words. Just because a hybrid preferred a certain owner, didn’t mean that they would be good for them in the long run. You were starting to think that the shelter was much more strict than they let on. Compared to the other potential owner, you were certain you had a great disadvantage.

Sure, you had knowledge about hybrids, but you had never owned one before. Once upon a time, you had entertained the idea, but you’d never found “the one”. In regards to the two hybrids, the only thing you had in your favor was that they were familiar with you.

You hoped that this interview wasn’t going to stress the hybrids out more than they already certainly were.

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

You were fidgeting in the hard plastic chair in the front lobby of the shelter, straightening immediately whenever someone would emerge from the doorway behind the receptionist’s desk. You’d been met with disappointment several times, sinking back down into the hard plastic with a sigh each time.

You had already been interviewed before you’d been instructed to sit out in the lobby until someone came to get you. You’d been sitting out here for 30 minutes, observing the few people who wandered in and out throughout that time. In the first five minutes, you had exchanged a few words with Amanda before you’d promptly let the conversation die as her attention was snagged by the phone ringing. You didn’t try to engage her in any further conversation when she was done.

You preferred to wallow in your thoughts.

The interview had been lengthy, questioned by Mrs. Choi and Ms. Ahn, the resident expert on “hybrid behavior”, or to put simply: a hybrid psychologist. They’d asked simple questions: your name, your age, where you worked, what kind of residence you lived in, and your experience with hybrids. They had also asked you to explain your history and relationship with Jimin and Namjoon. You’d been as honest as you could when it came to anything about hybrids. You knew surface information, the basics, but you weren’t no expert. You were willing to learn, however. You made sure both women understood that loud and clear.

You might be drowning in nerves about caring for someone other than yourself, but you weren’t going to give them up without a fight. Your sister would expect nothing less.

“Tell me about your sister, Y/N. She owned them previously, correct?” The question from Ms. Ahn made you raise your eyebrows. “How did she treat them?”

“Yes, she owned them for 2 years before...before this.” You glanced over at Mrs. Choi before back to Ms. Ahn as the woman urged you to continue, “She treated them with respect, I’ve never seen them distressed or unhappy in her care. They were standoffish the first few months that she had them, but they eventually came out of their shells. Jimin more so quicker than Namjoon.”

“Standoffish? Was there any certain reason why?”

“To be honest, I’’m not sure. My sister mentioned that they hadn’t had an easy life, but she never indulged further. You have to understand, my sister was very private. She shared with me about most of her life, but there’s some things she kept to herself. Telling me any details about Namjoon or Jimin’s past didn’t sit well with her. It wasn’t her story to tell, and I agreed with her. It’s theirs. Even if I knew the reason why, I wouldn’t feel comfortable giving you that information.”

“Hmm, I see.”

The longer you sat there, the more you wondered if maybe you’d projected a bad impression to Ms. Ahn. You had went into the interview determined to be as honest and transparent as you could, but maybe that’s where the problem stood. You had admitted that you had never owned a hybrid nor did you know in-depth information on them. That’s not to say the other party looking at the two hybrids were experts. They could be just as new as you.

“Y/N? You alright?”

You jerk sharply at the voice and a gentle bump to your shoulder that breaks you out of your thoughts, hand reaching up to press over your heart as you look up to find Jackson standing in front of you, head tilted and eyebrows furrowed at you.

“Jackson, you scared me.”

Jackson offered an apologetic smile, “Sorry, I called your name three times, but you didn’t respond. You alright?”

“Oh, yeah. Just got lost in my thoughts, I guess.” Sitting up, you peered at him hopefully, “Are you here to take me to Namjoon and Jimin?”

At your inquiry, Jackson immediately brightens, “Yes, I sure am!” He motions for you to follow him from the lobby, turning left at the desk instead of going through the doorway behind it.

"How are they this morning?" You asked curiously as you followed after him. Mrs. Choi and Ms. Ahn hadn't been forthcoming when you had asked them as soon as the interview was over.

He glances at you sideways as he stops at the last door on the left at the end of the hallway, pausing with his hand on the doorknob, “Neither of them really engaged with the couple. I think Jimin is still upset from yesterday, so that’s making Namjoon uneasy.” Jackson glances at the door before back to you, “I’m rather curious to see how things change once you go in there. Are you ready?”

Without waiting for a confirmation from you, Jackson twists the knob and pushes the door open, stepping inside before he urges you to follow. You hesitate for a few moments before you step past the threshold inside, looking around to survey the scene.

The room wasn’t overly big, the walls painted a soft, light green. Several plants were potted throughout the room, and filling the center of the room were two comfortable looking couches angled to face each other. The one facing the door is occupied by the two hybrids, who immediately perk at the sound and sight of the door swinging open. You don’t miss the rigid posture of the brunette nor the fidgeting of the darker haired male in the brief seconds it takes them to recognize you.

“Y/N!” Jimin bolts up from beside Namjoon on the couch, ears immediately perked and his fluffy tail flicking lazily back and forth behind him. The cat hybrid quickly comes to your side, wrapping himself around you as he nuzzles into your shoulder.

You were glad he didn’t try to knock the wind out of you today, reaching up to rub a hand on his back gently, “Morning, Jimin-ah,” You greet, letting him tug you away from Jackson and towards the couch where Namjoon has remained patiently sitting. The dog hybrid watches the both of you carefully as Jimin urges you to sit beside Namjoon on the couch. “Namjoon-ah,” You greet the hybrid on your right as you sit beside him, practically squished between the hybrids as Jimin plops down on your other side.

As you study Namjoon for a few moments, you take note that he seems much less tense than he had a minute ago when you’d first walked in. The large ears on top of his head are completely alert and focused on you and Jimin, and you can’t help but reach up slowly to rub the base of his left ear. His head tilts towards your hand and his eyes flutter at the sensation.

Thump, thump, thump. You giggle at the sound of his tail smacking the couch at the pets.

Your attention is momentarily pulled from Namjoon as Jimin grabs your left hand, ducking his head as he places it on top of his head. You blink at him for several moments before gently giving in to his silent request for pets. A purr rumbles free as you scratch gently at the base of his ears.

You can’t help but realize they’ve come a long way since the first time you met them.

[ 2 years ago. ]

“Sis,” Ellie meets you at the front door of her house before you can even raise your hand to knock on the bright yellow door. “You were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago.”

You roll your eyes, “There was traffic, plus you live out here in the middle of nowhere.” Your big sister didn’t live that far from the city, but it was still a decent drive out to her quaint little house with the closest neighbor a five minute walk or more away.

“Oh shush, just get in here, I have people for you to meet!” Despite being shorter than you, Ellie snags your hand and pulls you into her house, carefully shutting the door as you stumbled to get your bearings. She loops her arm through yours, “They’re in the living room.”

“They? Did you bring home two or more men this time, Ellie? One man is trouble enough, but two!?” You nudge at her with your shoulder, half teasing and half certain that your sister was about to introduce you to her new boyfriends...or boy toys.

“Oh shush, they’re not my boyfriends!” Her hand smacks your arm gently as she tugs you through the foyer and down the hall before you both emerge into her spacious living room. You bring you both to a stop as your eyes fall on the two young men sitting on the couch. You weren’t expecting this.

“Ellie…” You breathe, eyes wide as you take in the ears that you can spot on both, “Did you…”

“Yes, yes, I did. I wasn’t going to, but they...they insisted.”

“Insisted? How long have you known them? Did you adopt them from a shelter?”

“No, not exactly. It doesn’t matter, alright? C’mon let me introduce you.” Ellie drags you forward, closer to the couch, grinning at the two hybrids as she stops you both several steps away. She clears her throat gently before lowering her voice as she begins introductions, “Y/N, this is Kim Namjoon and Park Jimin. Guys, this is my little sister, Y/N.”

The first hybrid, Namjoon, is a dog hybrid. He looks tall and skinny (almost too skinny, if you think about it), with a mop of blond hair on top of his head, his large, slightly pointed ears are alert and focused on the both of you in front of him. His brown eyes look you over before he peers back up to your face, head tilted ever so slightly before his lips part and he speaks, voice low and rough, “Hello.” His arm shifting and tightening around the figure next to him draws your attention to the other hybrid.

Pink hair is the most notable feature on the hybrid, his small black ears standing out against the light hue. He’s curled up against the dog hybrid, appearing almost smaller than what he really is and he’s almost skinner too. He keeps his face averted against the dog’s shoulder before a gentle nudge silently urges him to do something. He makes a soft noise of protest before he slowly raises his head to look at you, although he avoids eye contact.

Blue eyes. You suck in a swift breath as you catch a glimpse of the sky-like hue of them.

“H-Hello.” His voice is softer and slightly higher than the dog’s, and he’s immediately ducking back down to hide against the other, ears flattened and eyes squeezed shut.

It about breaks your heart.

“They’ve had a difficult life,” Ellie tells you when you follow after her into the kitchen, mostly to avoid the awkward silence that settles between you and the hybrids once your sister excuses herself to make drinks. You’d sat perched on the edge of one of the chairs before you’d quietly excused yourself and power walked to the kitchen.

Her words stop you from practically hissing at her for leaving you alone with them.

“I can tell, Ellie.” You sigh as you lean against the island, “Where did you really find them? You never answered me.” You don’t know why you’re pushing for information; you had a feeling that Ellie wasn’t going to tell you what you wanted to know.

“Does it matter, Y/N? Look, they needed my help, I helped. They didn’t want to leave and...I didn’t have the heart to tell them no.” She turns to face you, “Don’t look at me like that, you would have done the same, sis.”

“Yeah...you’re right.” She is right, you agree. You wouldn’t turn them away if you had been in the same position.

“Of course I am. Older and wiser, remember? Now, c’mon, they’ll warm up to you in no time, I know it.”

[ End. ]

“Y/N-ie,” Jimin’s voice startles you from the memory, eyes widening as Jimin’s thumb brushes just over the top of your cheek, “You’re crying,” He murmurs, his own eyes wide and glassy.

You immediately retract your hands from them (earning a whine from both) as you hastily wipe the sleeve of your sweater over your face, desperate to dispel any further tears from falling. “I’m sorry, I’m….it’s just allergies,” You sniffle a little before you smile as brightly as you can at the cat hybrid.

Jimin’s eyes narrow marginally, briefly flicking them at Namjoon over the top of your head before back to you, “Allergies?” You can hear the disbelief in his question.

You nod quickly, “I’m sensitive,” You weren’t telling a complete lie, but he doesn’t need to know the real reason for your tears, although you suspect he might have a hunch; they both probably do. In an attempt to avoid either of them questioning you further, you grasp for the first thing that comes to mind, “They’ve treated you good here, right?”

“Yes. It’s not...home, but we’ve had worse.” Namjoon answers you, one of his ears swiveling towards the door that’s Jackson-less and closed. “They’ve kept us comfortable.”

You nod, relaxing at the confirmation that the shelter had been treating them well. You hadn’t exactly doubted that, since Jackson seemed nice and fair enough, but it felt better to hear such words from Namjoon. The shelter couldn’t compare to home, but at least they weren’t being thrown back into a possible scenario like whatever lurked in their past. You’re glad that this shelter was setting the bar high with their hybrid care.

“What did you think of the couple that are also interested in you?” You prod gently, looking back to Jimin before back to Namjoon, indicating the question was for them both.

“They were nice,” Namjoon answers you first again, his shoulders shrugging, “Same as all the other couples that have looked at us recently.” His eyes flick to Jimin for a moment before going back to your face, “They’re always smitten with Jiminie.”

“I don’t want to go with them,” Jimin murmurs beside you, fingers tugging on the sleeve of your sweater absently, “We want to go home with you.”

“I want you to go to a home that’s right for you.” You offer him a soft smile, “I would love to have you both, but it’s not completely up to me. If there’s someone better…”

“There’s not!” Jimin’s sudden outburst startles you, “Don’t...don’t you want us?” Jimin’s ears have flattened to his head, blue eyes swimming with tears as he shrinks back into himself slightly. “I..I don’t want to go with a stranger.”

“Jimin-ah,” You begin, “I’ve never owned hybrids before, I don’t even know where to start. Don’t you want to go with someone who knows how to take care of you, keep you happy?”

“We’ll help you, Y/N! Right, Joonie?” Jimin doesn’t bother to look past you at Namjoon.

“Of course,” Namjoon hums in agreement from beside you, “We want to go with you, Y/N.”

Looking back and forth between the two, you sigh, “Are you sure? Positive? I don’t want either of you to regret doing this.”

“Yes.” “Yes!”

Part of you was quite certain, and fearful, that the two hybrids only wanted to be in your care because you were the last connection to your sister. You didn’t dare question them as to whether your theory was correct; being here in the shelter wasn’t the time nor the place for such sensitive matters. Upset either hybrid unnecessarily was going to dwindle your chances down to none.

You weren’t sure how Jimin nor Namjoon would react should the shelter decide to place them with the other interested party.

“Okay,” You simply state, nodding your head absently before you push yourself up from the couch, “I need to make a phone call real quick, okay?” Your reassurance is mostly directed at Jimin, catching sight of his wide eyes as he peers up at you in slight alarm.

He regards you for a moment before he slowly nods, fingers releasing the hold he had on your sweater before placing his hands limply in his lap. Jimin glanced nervously at Namjoon before his eyes tracked you across the room as you picked the farthest corner to make your phone call.

You scroll quickly through your phone to find the number that called you last week, hovering your thumb over the call button for a moment before you huffed out a breath and pressed your thumb down.

Having some legal power in your corner couldn’t hurt. Better safe than sorry.

TAGLIST: @keijaycreates, @karissassirak, @btsfangirl1999, @cisila, @paigeloulou, @itscalledgayhoney, @kamen-tenshi, @bewitch3dforivar, @1796p, @mrcleanheichou, @discombobulatedhuman, @lovehunter879, @ohwooyoung, @xsmilebitesx, @sleepyje0n, @hope122598

[ Want to be tagged when I release new chapters? Send me an ask or message and include what fics you would like to be tagged in! If I missed you in a tag list, please let me know!! ]

#bts x reader #bangtan sonyeondan #bts fanfic #bts imagine #hybrid bts #ot7 x reader #poly!bts x reader #hybrid!bts x reader #*mine #my writing #twisted tails fic #not entirely happy with this chapter but...u know

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marvelfangirllll · 5 years

Text

Fun Dip

So this is my first time writing a one shot. Also my first time writing smut. Hope you like it. I got the idea for this from a dream I had. Sorry if it's too long.

Summary: when your young Sam and Dean basically adopt you and your really close with Sam and when you become a adult you realize your in love with him.

Warnings:smut, food play, incest (slightly), oral (both female and male receiving)

Uncle!Sam X reader X Dad!Dean

-years ago-

Sam and Dean Winchester were on a vampire hunt, vamps had taken over a small town terrorising the locals. It was a job well done until they heard the crys of what they thought was a baby. It was a young girl of roughly four. They seen her but she ran from them into the doggy door of the closest house. The brothers followed her, they didn't enter but they heard shouts coming from the other side of the door and then the little girl ran out the doggy door again, this time two vampires followed her. The Winchester brothers then quickly took out these final two vamps. The little girl cried and Sam and Dean slowly approached her. "Hey sweetheart it's okay" Dean cooed. "Where's your parents" Sam asks. The tiny girl pointed to the final vampires. "We can't just leave her Dean, but she also shouldn't be in the hunter life" Sam and Dean look over at the little girl who's still upset but by their side "She's my kid now, hunter life or not if we can't have a normal life we'll at least raise one ourselves" Dean declaires looking over at Sam. Dean goes over and picks up the little girl "Don't worry kiddo Daddy's got you". As the little girl calmed down a bit but was still silently tearing up Sam walked over to the convenience store and Dean followed. "Do you got any Fun dip and can you check the back for any as well" Sam asked almost demanding. The clerk lady looked at the little girl then went to go find fun dip. The lady then came back with two different flavour strips. "Which one do you want sir" she asks. "Just give me all of them, and don't look at my kid next time I'm not a bad parent" Sam says. The Winchesters walked out with all the fun dip and the little girl to the Impala, Sam sits in the back seat and gives his niece one pack and shows her how to use it. "She's got you wrapped around your finger and you don't even know her name Sammy" Dean says from the front seat. "What's your name baby girl?. She looks at them both then Dean who had asked the question "(Y/n)" she says her little mouth covered in fun dip colours.

-many years later-

"I see the way you look at him you naughty girl" Lucifer says "Can you just shut the fuck up man we're related okay and it's wrong" I snap back at him. "That's what your brain says but not your heart smarty pants" Lucifer says sing song "I will stab you Luci" I glare at him. "Wow I like this it's kinky, but we both know I'm in your head and not going away" Lucifer smirks. "I mean come on (y/n) you even went to hell for ol' Sammy boy". (Y/n) just pushed down on where the cut on her hand was from when she got back and Lucifer disappeared.

(Y/n) decided to put on Willy Wonka to help calm her nerves as she liked the movie and is a candy addict. That's when Sam decided to walk in. (Y/n) jumped "back from the hunt early". "(Y/n) we've been back for awhile, Dean's in his room asleep and I just came to check on you before I go as well and based off that reaction I'm staying with you" Sam walked over and sat on the bed with me. "What are you doing up in the middle of the night?" I say looking up at Sam. "I could ask you the same thing" he says and pulls out some M&Ms, we eat them and then our hands collide at the bottom of the bag. "Fuck it" I whispered "Fuck what" Sam says. "Fuck me" I pin him and start kissing him.

I start to move down to his neck kissing him "This is wrong" he tries to get out between kisses. "We both want eachother Sammy" I let out taking off his shirt. I move down from kissing his neck down to his V-line. He flips us over so that he's on top and starts taking off my shirt. I stop him and reach around my drawer and pull out the packet that I was looking for. I pull open the fun dip and put some of the powder on my stomach. "Fun dip huh" Sam laughs a little and licks it off me. He then takes my bra off and puts more of the powder on me and starts sucking it off from my breasts. "That feels so good" I moan out. He moves down and starts to pull my pants down so I'm only in my panties. "This probably isn't fair" Sam says and starts taking off his pants and I could see his boner in his boxers. He takes off my panties and starts to rub at my clit and starts to eat me out. "Sammy" I moan again. He stops "shhh Dean is sleeping". He then goes back to what he was doing, me pulling his hair and he gives me a mind blowing orgasm. He then licks everything up "you taste so sweet". We switch positions and I pull his boxers down and start jerking him off and licking up and down his shaft. He pulls on my hair and I start to deep throat him. I lick and suck and Bob my head and give Sam an orgasm of his own. "You taste pretty sweet yourself" I giggle. He turns us over again and straddles me. "Sammy, I'm a virgin". "I'll go easy on you sweetheart". He inserts himself into you. He slowly starts to move when he knows your comfortable. "Faster Sammy" he moves faster. Both you and Sam go for a while and then finish at the same time. He collapsed beside me and I cuddle into him. "I'm sorry if I'm a junkie, I have a bad candy addiction, I'm sorry if I'm an a hunting addict and I'm sorry if I'm a sex addict" I whisper trying not to cry. "I thought you were a virgin" Sam says. "I was, but Sam I'm addicted to you" I say. "It's all okay sweetheart" Sam says. "If Dean found out he'd kill us" I say Sam then kisses the top of my head. You both fall asleep in each others arms

-In Dean's dreams-

"what are you doing in my dream Lucifer" Dean asks "just thought I'd let you know about your daughter and Sammy boy" Lucifer says "They're close I know" Dean says "Maybe a little too close" Lucifer says making hand gestures 👉👌

Dean wakes up "no more drinking too much, there's gonna be limits".

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batskulldrag · 4 years

Text

Phoenix by Fallout Boy

By now you all probably get the song titles as chapter titles gimmick. Trigger warning, because they will be discussing abuse probably throughout the story

Chapter Eleven: The Fire and The Flood by VanceJoy

Virgil was browsing Tumblr when he heard the phone ring. He lurked out to the head of the stairs and heard someone pick it up.

“Hi Thomas.” Patton answered.

Virgil tensed up, he hadn’t heard from CPS since May, what had they dug up this time? Was Thomas going to bring up another hospital visit? Was Payton out of prison, it had been about a month. What if he escaped?

“Oh,” Patton said into the receiver, sounding disappointed. “That’s good, how is she?”

“Oh.” Patton said sadly. “I guess I figured.”

“Does… I know I probably sound horrible, but does this change anything for us?”

“Ok. I guess there is some good news then. Thanks for keeping us in the loop. Ok, bye.”

“Roman,” Patton said blankly. “If you wanna start the nicknames back up you can.”

“They found the dragon?” Roman asked in shock. “Because that reptile can have our emo baby over my moldering corpse.”

Virgil leaned closer to the conversation. Did his mother want him? Could she actually and after all this time want him back? He felt dizzy. On one hand he didn’t want to hurt his uncles, they had all been amazing to him. But he couldn’t help but feel excited at the idea that his mom could actually love him. What a novel idea. She might love him.

“You don’t need to fight anyone.” Patton sighed with the weight of the world. “She waved parental rights.”

Virgil slid to the floor, cursing himself for having the gall to let his hopes build like that. Of course she didn’t want him back. She didn’t want him then. He bit down on the front of his hoodie to keep from crying.

I should have known! I figured all along! I should have known better than this! Of course she doesn’t want me! Did I really think that she was going to come in after thirteen years and decide she wants me!?! What kind of an idiot would even entertain that stupid idea?!

“Does this alter our plans to adopt him?” Logan interrupted the chaos.

“No.” Patton sighed.

“Well then, why are you upset?”

“She doesn’t want him!” Patton said exasperated. “What kind of person says that?”

“Patton, she knew full well what Payton was capable of and she left a baby with him. Not exactly an example of maternal instinct.”

“But what are we going to tell Virgil?”

“Let’s tell him she died.” Roman interrupted. “Car accident, quick and completely unexpected.”

“We’re not going to lie to him.” Logan replied. “What his mother decided does not determine his value. And it doesn’t change the fact that we’re going to adopt him.”

“How do we tell him though? How do you tell a kid that their mom would do something that heartless?” Patton whimpered.

Virgil stood up quietly and slunk back into his room. Knowing that Patton would be looking for him in a second, he turned his computer back on and tried to look like he hadn’t moved in the past hour. Sure enough, Patton knocked on his door.

“It’s open.” Virgil called casually.

“Thomas, you know your case worker, called.” Patton began.

“Did he find more hospital records?” Virgil tried to keep his voice even. “What is he doing checking all of them?”

“They, uh…”

“They were able to find your mother.” Logan said calmly. Which is odd, because he basically just teleported into the room.

“Where did you come from?” Patton yelped in shock.

“How do you not make any noise when you walk?” Virgil stared at him, utterly confused.

“I just don’t.” Logan dismissed his amazing stealth powers. “Any way, social services located your mother. She’s living in Italy now.”

“Good for her.” Virgil looked back at his computer.

“They got in touch with her and unfortunately…”

“The good news is you don’t have to learn Italian.” Patton interrupted with the fakest upbeat attitude known to man.

“Virgil, she waved her parental rights.” Logan sighed. “I’m sorry, but there’s no easy way to say that.”

“Well.” Virgil heard his voice break a bit. He swallowed hard and continued passively. “I always kind of figured she would. It’s not news to me.”

Neither of them. Neither of them wants me. How can neither of them want me? How can they both just see me as a mistake? Why did they let it go this far?

Patton ran a hand through his hair. Virgil leaned into his hand in response. Patton radiated a soothing heat. Not like being trapped in a fire hot, but like a fluffy blanket that just came out of the dryer. Cozy, that was the word. Patton was cozy.

“You sure you’re ok?” Patton kept petting him.

“Yeah,” Virgil fought back tears. “This just confirms what I already thought.”

“Virgil, I want you to know that this doesn’t determine your value.” Logan put a hand on his shoulder. “This isn’t your fault. And Patton and I are still planning to adopt you, that hasn’t changed.”

“Why?” Virgil felt his resolve start to crack.

“Because you’re family.” Patton hugged him. “And we want you to be safe.”

“I mean why doesn’t she…”

No, don’t you do this! Don’t! don’t cry, don’t cry. Don’t cry!

“Why doesn’t she love me?” Virgil sobbed, his resolve shattering around him.

Patton held him while he cried. That’s what Patton does. Logan sat with them, probably extremely uncomfortable with the entire situation. But there none the less.

Virgil hadn’t really used the word love in a long time. Especially not in reference to his parents. And he definitely hadn’t asked why neither of them loved him in a long time. Hell, he had tried to convince himself that he didn’t care if they loved him or not.

And then here was Patton and Logan. They thought they loved him, but he wasn’t sure they did. He wasn’t sure they could. He had constantly heard things about how parents are just automatically loving. Apparently, fathers keep you safe and mothers nurture you. And they both love you and want what’s best for you.

That didn’t fit. Virgil had never met his mother. In fact, she left the continent just to be away from him. And she probably had a new family now, one that she supposedly nurtured, one that he sure as taxes wasn’t a part of. And then there was his dad. Protecting? No. A thousand times no.

This left him wondering why Patton and Logan thought they loved him. He was a complete stranger to them, and it was starting to look like he was a burden as well. How could they love him? Logan emphasized with him because they had… that in common and Patton probably liked him because he was his nephew. But love? If his own parents didn’t love him, how could these two?

“It’s ok. It’s not your fault.” Patton continued to pet him.

“He’s right. This doesn’t reflect on you. It reflects on them.” Logan squeezed his shoulder.

Virgil pressed his head into Patton’s chest. He had cried in front of them a lot since he wound up here, and they never said anything about it. They just let him. There was no mocking or any consequences. They just let him cry. Just like that.

“This is stupid.” Virgil pulled away from his uncle. “I knew she didn’t want me. I’ve always known. Why am I even upset?”

“Just because you know something doesn’t mean it can’t hurt you.” Logan rubbed his back. “And you have every right to be upset.”

“If its any consolation,” Patton added. “We want you.”

Why?

“Ok.” Virgil sighed. “Thank you.”

# # #

“It’s not fair.” Patton mumbled as he and Logan walked down the stairs.

“I know, but there’s nothing we can do.” Logan wrapped his arm around him. “We can’t change how people think. We just have to be decent people to make up for it.”

“He was so sad.”

“He’ll be ok. He’s a strong kid and we’re going to be here to help him.”

“I guess.” Patton stared at his feet.

“He’s already made amazing progress.”

“I know, but.” Patton looked towards Virgil’s room and back at Logan. “All Payton had to do was leave Virgil here when he left. Why? Why did he take the baby?”

“If there is a god, then only he knows.” Logan sighed.

“Is he ok?” Roman asked the second he saw them.

“He’s upset.” Patton sighed.

“He has every right to be.” Roman glared at the floor. “How do two terrible people make a decent kid? The dragon and Payton are both so vile that I honestly expected their child to hatch from an egg with scales and fangs.”

“We can’t prove that she didn’t lay an egg.” Patton countered. “And Payton must have gotten some kind of recessive jerk genes. Because Mom was great, and so were our grandparents. And I always try to do the right thing. I wanna be a good person.”

“You are a good person, Padre.” Roman said immediately. “Just ask anyone.”

“I don’t know. All of this is kind of my fault.” Patton rubbed his arm.

“Isn’t it a good thing that Virgil was taken away from his abusive father?” Logan challenged him.

“I think if I had tried to get custody sooner, then maybe none of this would have happened.” Patton looked at the floor.

“Well, all we can really do is handle things as they are now.” Logan put a hand on Patton’s shoulder. “We can’t go back in time.”

“He’s right.” Roman agreed, that was uncommon. “We have to focus on what to do now. The past isn’t going to come back just because we regret it.”

“Thank goodness for that.” Logan added.

“Ok.” Patton sighed. “All that matters is now.”

# # #

Logan exhaled hard and got out of bed. Patton mumbled incoherently and wrapped himself around his pillow, still sound asleep. Logan smiled down at him before grabbing one of his books and leaving the room.

Logan had dealt with insomnia for about as long as he could remember. He was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder in college, but his doctor believed that he developed it when he was a kid. The one and only thing he got from normalization therapy. Even the name sounded like a horror movie cult. He shook that off. It was over now.

As he entered the living room, he heard the shower running. He looked at the clock, now wondering if it was morning already. No, it was about two am. So, who was taking a shower at this time of the night?

He could be sure that it wasn’t Patton. And Roman probably wouldn’t be up, unless he was just now getting ready for bed. Which he was prone to do. But, the most likely option was that it was Virgil. Now the only question was why.

Virgil lurked into the living room wearing his black hoodie and a pair of grey sweatpants and drying his hair with a towel. Logan sighed in relief, thankful beyond words that Virgil wasn’t naked. Logan tried to figure out how to make himself known without metaphorically scaring the life out Virgil.

But, as it turned out, Virgil was far more alert than anyone had considered and the very next thing he did was look up. He yelped softly and shoved his towel over his mouth to keep from screaming, startled by Logan’s sudden appearance.

“Sorry,” Logan held out his hands. “I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just me.”

“Geeze!” Virgil squeaked. “Where did you come from? Why are you standing in the middle of the living room? Why are you a ninja ghost?”

“I came downstairs because I couldn’t sleep.” Logan quickly explained. “I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up.”

“Then we feel the same.” Virgil sighed. “I think you took twenty years off my life. That’s an expression.”

“I know it’s an expression.”

“Why are you up?”

“I told you, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Yeah, but why?”

“I have PTSD. It keeps me from sleeping sometimes.”

“Yeah, that’s a thing that people casually mention.” Virgil added sarcastically.

“I realize that you’re being sarcastic. But I feel no shame over things that I can’t control. I am defined by what I do, not by what is done to me.”

“That’s pretty.” Virgil commented blankly. “How did you come to have PTSD, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“There was a practice called ‘Quiet Hands’ in which autistic children were kept from stimming. If they didn’t stop on command they would be restrained. Many children developed trauma disorders thanks to this.”

“What’s stimming?”

“Stimming is something autistic people use to express or process feelings. Usually through repeated actions but sometimes verbally by repeating a word or phrase. I normally clap my hands.”

“When you say restrained, I’m picturing straightjackets and gurneys.” Virgil looked at him for assurance that he was wrong.

“No, the therapist just grabbed my hands and held them in place. But I’m sure she was also thinking about straightjackets.”

“Geeze, at least Payton let me talk.” Virgil looked at the floor. “I mean, I don’t think he ever listened to me. Unless he wanted to insult me. But that was one of the few things I never got hit for.”

“Virgil.” Logan walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Why are you awake?”

“I wet the bed again.” Virgil grimaced and tensed up as if he were bracing himself.

“Well, make a note to talk about that with Emile in your next session. Until then, maybe you ought to avoid fluids after nine.”

“That’s it?” Virgil looked up at him skeptically. “You’re not mad, you’re not gonna make fun of me? Just that?”

“I’d like to think that I can react to things without resorting to violence.” Logan adjusted his glasses. “Especially when dealing with the mundane.”

“Uncle Logan,” Virgil hesitated and bit his lip. “How… how did you manage to… I don’t know. How’d you start trusting people?”

“That was a slow process.” Logan sighed. “I think the first people I ever trusted were Roman and his brother. I met them in middle school, and they were nice to me, treated me like a human. I was wary of the pair at first, but they just kind of… got through to me. I don’t remember deciding to trust either of them, but I guess I did.”

“Ok.” Virgil looked at the ceiling.

“I also want you to understand that trust has to be earned. I trusted Roman because he treated me decently and didn’t take advantage.”

“Do I…” He kept his eyes on the ceiling. “Do I have to testify against my dad?”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” Logan tilted Virgil’s head back towards him. “If you’re not comfortable facing him, then no one is going to make you.”

“I don’t want to be afraid of him.” His voice shook.

“I know.” Logan knelt to eye level. “But it’s ok if you are. It’s a normal reaction. And what’s most important, is he is never getting his hands on you again.”

“What if he fights this? You know him, you know he will.”

“He doesn’t have a metaphorical leg to stand on. The evidence against him continuously grows. He has backed himself into the proverbial corner to end all corners.”

“What if he just drags this out until you can’t afford to fight him?” He had tears in his eyes now.

“Virgil, we’re only suing him as a formality so we can include you on our health insurance. Even if he somehow keeps custody, he’s still going to prison for arson. And he’s going to stay there until you’re twenty. This isn’t the video game boss fight. This is the moment when we all get to watch his actions come back to haunt him.”

“What if they don’t believe me?”

“This isn’t ‘he says you say,’ no one in their right mind would believe him over evidence.”

“He put me in the hospital last year.” Virgil said quickly in ragged breaths.

“We know, I’m sorry.” Logan soothed.

“He…he.” Virgil wrapped his arms around himself. “He told them I couldn’t have morphine.”

“Why?” He knew but couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“I guess he wanted me to be in pain.” Virgil whimpered. “And he wanted to prove a point. Like the doctors believed him, and they never asked me. And they took his word for it.”

“It’s ok. It’s ok.” Logan hugged him. “It’s over now. You’re safe now. I promise. I swear to you that he is never getting you back.”

“But they…”

“Did an unbelievably stupid thing by not checking your records.” Logan cut him off. “And this situation is completely different from that one. This time you have people on your side. And we have more than enough evidence to keep him from so much as writing you a letter.”

“Yeah?” He squeaked.

“Virgil, when I first came here Patton and his mother promised me that I would never go back to my parents.” Logan pulled back to look him in the eyes. “And I’m making you that same promise. To borrow a phrase from Roman: Payton can have you over my moldering corpse.”

Virgil buried his face in Logan’s shoulder.

“Uncle Logan, have you seen your parents since then? Like bumped into them in the mall or the post office or something?”

“I have. But admittedly, I just duck out quickly to avoid being seen by them. Sometimes we can forget that our parents are mortal.”

“What,” Virgil leaned back. “Like they’re gods or demons or something?”

“Yes. Exactly.”

Virgil nuzzled back into Logan’s shoulder and sat there quietly for a minute. Logan ran his fingers through the younger man’s hair.

“I’ll do it.” Virgil mumbled. “I wanna testify against him.”

“Are you sure?” Logan asked, surprised. “You don’t have to, and you don’t have to decide right now.”

“I know.” Virgil nodded. “But, I’m not gonna be afraid of him anymore. And I want him to know that he doesn’t scare me. I’m done being his plaything.”

“Ok.” Logan stroked his hair. “I want you to think about it for a while though. Ok?”

“Ok.”

“I mean it. If you want to do this, then great. But if not, you don’t have to.”

“I know.”

“Ok.” Logan let him go. “Do you want one of your pills?”

“No. I think I’ll be able to get back to sleep.”

“Ok. Good night.”

“Good night.” Virgil hugged him. “And thank you.”

Virgil returned to his room and Logan pulled himself off the floor. Despite making sure his nephew knew that he didn’t have to testify against Payton, he was incredibly proud that he wanted to. The ability to stand up to your abuser like that took proverbial guts and a whole lot of real courage. Logan knew that. And he realized that Virgil knew that too. And more importantly, this meant that Virgil was beginning to realize that Payton was wrong. And that alone was worth everything.

Logan was surprised to find himself yawning. It seemed that his conversation had bedded down his own metaphorical demons. It at least reminded him that he was dealing with thoughts rather than monsters. Simple, easy to defeat memories. He smiled to himself and walked back to his and Patton’s room, half remembering the times when he played with the baby in the middle of the night because neither of them could sleep.

Payton’s son, not so much. But his. His and Patton’s. Logan laughed softly.

Who would have ever thought of him as a dad?

# # #

“Mwaah.” Patton gleefully enunciated as he pressed the chess horsey into Logan’s cheek.

“Are you pleased with yourself?” Logan asked stoically.

“Nay-be.”

Virgil laughed from his place across from Logan. Finally. Someone who liked dad jokes.

Logan and Virgil started playing chess after dinner, Virgil called black the second he saw the board, leaving Logan with white. In the meantime, Roman occasionally piped in to annoy Logan, and Patton played with all the defeated pieces. Virgil had knocked down one of Logan’s horses and Logan had used his pointy face to kill one of Virgil’s castles. And all the knobby boys had been defeated.

“You’re quite good.” Logan said amusedly as his pointy face took out Virgil’s other castle. “But I think you play it a little too safe. You’re mostly using your pieces to block the king and queen. It might do you better to play offensively.”

“There should be a prince character. Or at least a dragon.” Roman added, fiddling with the castle. “If you’re going to make things up, at least make a fun game out of it.”

“What part of chess is made up?” Logan eyed him.

“This isn’t how battles work, for one.” Roman listed. “And chess has walking castles. How is that realistic?”

“Sounds like Roman wants to play D and D.” Virgil chimed in. “Uncle Logan, my queen kills your bishop.”

Patton took the pointy face.

“Excellent move.” Logan’s eyes lit up. “But you already lost your rooks, a fatal error.”

“I would rather die standing than live kneeling.” Virgil grinned.

“Members of the clergy don’t fight in wars.” Roman added, dumbfounded.

“What if god told them to?” Virgil asked. “Like the crusades?”

Before Roman could argue, his phone rang.

“I fear for the worst.” Roman sighed before answering. “Hello?”

Roman listened for a moment.

“Hang on one second, I need to embarrass my nephew.” Roman pressed his phone against his chest and looked at Virgil. “Verge, they need a nude model for the still life class at the civic center, they asked for you by name. They offered to pay extra if you still have that birthmark.”

“HOW DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT!!!??” Virgil yelped, jumping up and pulling his shirt over the back of his pants. He was completely red.

“I used to babysit you a lot. That includes changing diapers and giving baths.”

“I’m in hell.” Virgil said blankly.

“I’ll be over in ten minutes.” Roman said to the other end of the phone and hung up. “I extend my apologies, but I am needed in other places.”

“I still don’t understand how you can do that.” Patton shivered. “The idea of it terrifies me.”

“Trust me Padre, I’m not the one who is exposed.”

“Hi, I’m Virgil,” Virgil introduced himself. “I’m new here and don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Roman occasionally works as a nude model for a still life class.” Logan answered.

“I’m sorry I asked.” Virgil grimaced.

“It’s not sexual.” Roman emphasized. “It’s like drawing a tree.”

“But you still stand there, in front of all those people.” Patton blushed. “And they draw you… naked.”

“Patton, I was saving this.” Roman sighed. “But I’ll pull it out now if I must.”

“No, please. I’m a minor.” Virgil pulled his hood over his eyes.

“I was not talking about… THAT!” Roman blushed. “I would never! That! Get your mind out of the gutter!”

“Virgil embarrassed Roman.” Patton announced. “Logan mark the calendar. Someone embarrassed Roman.”

“I never thought I’d see the day.” Logan added.

“Right.” Roman said as he walked towards the door. “I shall see you in a few hours.”

“Wait, what were you gonna say?” Patton asked foolishly.

“Just.” Roman stared evilly. “That you and Logan think you’re so quiet. Love you, bye.”

The door closed. Patton and Logan both looked at each other in horror.

“I am going to pretend that didn’t happen.” Virgil said quickly. “Who’s Roman? Uncle Logan, it’s your move. Try to kill my queen.”

Logan shook off his shock and looked down at the board. Using his queen, he killed Virgil’s. Patton took the dead queen.

“So, you think you can stone me and spit in my eye?” Virgil sang.

“So, you think you can love me and leave me to diiiie?” Patton gleefully continued.

“I believe it’s your move, Freddie.” Logan smiled.

Virgil sent one of his horses over to Logan’s queen.

“No time for losers.” Logan killed the horse with his queen.

“That’s the wrong song.” Virgil sent over his other horsey. “But I am losing.”

“I can’t tell who’s winning.” Patton added happily.

Patton’s two boys played for a few more minutes.

“Check mate.” Logan announced calmly.

“And now a Shakespearean paly will start in what is left of my country.” Virgil looked down at the board. “Good game Uncle Logan.”

“You played very well yourself.” Logan smiled. “And you called all the pieces by their proper names. A rarity in this household.”

“If you keep on talking Logan,” Patton lead on. “You might get…”

“Do not do it.” Logan stared at him.

“A little horse.” Patton popped the horsey up from under the table.

“Hey, Uncle Patton.” Virgil called, holding one of the horses up over the board. “It’s a horse fly.”

“Of all the things to be hereditary.” Logan sighed.

“Ok, we’ll stop… horsing around.”

“I married you.” Logan said stunned.

“Last one. I promise.” Virgil set his horsey down. “The dark knight.”

“That was actually funny.” Logan said angrily.

“Oh! I have a great idea!” Patton hopped up and down a bit. “Meet me in the living room.”

Patton darted upstairs to his closet and pulled out three of his scrap books. Scrapbooking was a personally favorite of his, memories and glitter. And decorating. It was the best.

He checked to make sure they were the books he wanted and darted downstairs with them. Both Logan and Virgil were waiting for him on the couch. He nestled himself between them and opened the first book.

“I was wondering when you were going to pull these out.” Logan said, putting his arm around him.

“Well, we need to show Virgil.” Patton beamed and turned to his little anxious baby. “You’re going to be these a lot more now. We need to make up for lost time.”

“Ok?” Virgil looked confused.

“Ok. Here’s me in freshmen year of high school.” Patton pointed down at the first picture on the page.

“What the hell happened?” Virgil looked on in pure shock.

In the picture Patton was smiling from behind some incredibly thick braces that made his teeth look like iron plates. They almost looked worse than the head gear that accompanied them.

“Oh, I tried to do a flip. You know, the kind where you run up the wall?” Patton explained. “And I face planted into a tree and knocked out my two front teeth.”

“Years of corrective dental treatments ensued.” Logan added.

“My favorite piece was the retainer with two fake teeth in it.” Patton smiled. “I pulled some funny pranks with that one. I’m almost sad that I got permanent implants.”

“So, you used to take your teeth out and harass people with them?” Virgil made a face of disgust and intrigue.

“He mostly just held them out to people and asked if he had something in his teeth.” Logan answered. “It wasn’t very funny.”

“Sure, it was.” Patton added, moving on to the next few pictures. “Here’s me and Payton at Easter, Mom always had us dress up all nice so she could take pictures. And here’s me and Payton as altar boys. And us at Christmas.”

He turned the page and was hit with several play brochures. And one picture of Roman, clad in a dress of green and orange taffeta that clashed horridly in a sultry pose with the stupidest look on his face.

“Why?” Virgil asked, stunned.

“Roman got to play Mona in Cinderella’s Mice.” Patton explained. “He wanted to be the prince, but he had a lot of fun with his character.”

“Wow. Must have been a great show when he came out.” Virgil retorted.

“Nearly everyone claimed to have ‘called it’ if I remember correctly.” Logan added.

“Oh, here it is.” Patton clapped his hands happily.

Centered in the page was a group photo of him, Logan, Roman and Remus all in different dresses. The twins went all out, naturally, with Roman in a red satin prom dress with matching shoes and purse. And Remus wearing a tight black leather skirt, fishnet stockings, knee length stiletto boots and a green blouse tied around his chest so that his entire stomach, complete with a long pink scar, showed. Logan was more subtle, wearing a floor length black skirt to complement his black polo shirt and blue tie. Patton himself had borrowed one of his mother’s dresses. A beautiful blue sundress with a yellow floral pattern, he accessorized with a white sunhat that had a long yellow ribbon tied in a bow. They were the prettiest boys in the school.

“He’s real.” Virgil gasped, looking right at Remus’s picture.

“Of course, he’s real.” Logan responded. “Did you think we were gaslighting you?”

“I just kinda thought that no one was that crazy.”

“Remus really isn’t as bad as Patton makes him sound.”

“He bit Payton.” Patton argued. “Hard enough to draw blood. And what about when he got his glass eye? How many people did he terrorize with that?”

“Now he only has one eye?” Virgil interrupted. “Are we sure he’s real?”

“He has both eyes.” Logan explained. “He just also has a glass eye that he would torment people with.”

“Let’s just move on.” Patton tried to stifle his gag reflex, he did not, ever, want to think about Remus’s eye again. “Here’s all the petitions that came out of it. The petition from the super religious kids saying that guys should be banned from wearing skirts. Roman’s petition that says if they do that, girls shouldn’t be allowed to wear pants, for the double standard. Logan’s essay slash petition saying that pants were originally a female garment and skirts were worn by men, so the girls should have to only wear pants and the guys only wear skirts. Then Remus sent out one saying that we need to ban the dress code all together and just show up to school naked. A petition to stop all petitions, one to repaint the school with reflective paint so that it’ll be invisible, one to tear down the school and build a strip club, and my favorite, one to move the state of Florida four feet and seven inches to the right.”

That one did it, Virgil doubled over laughing. He actually fell off the couch and curled up on the floor, crying from laughing. And it was adorable. He had the cutest little laugh, his face got all red and he closed his eyes so tight. He was just the most precious little baby.

Coughing and sniffling, Virgil climbed back onto the couch. He chuckled lightly to himself as he sat down and turned his attention back to the book.

Patton turned the page and saw his brother, dressed to the nines with a dark-haired girl on his arm. He was taking her to the spring fling or some other school function.

Wow, Virgil looks like his dad. A bit darker, but that must be from his mom. He definitely has her hair. Different freckles from Payton, but it’s undeniably his genes that put them there. He looks so much like him in the face, the shape is identical. It’s uncanny.

“Is that her?” Virgil asked softly, also seeming transfixed by the image.

“Yeah. That’s her.” Patton said numbly.

He couldn’t even muster up the ability to hate her. Patton felt nothing for her. She abandoned her baby and left him with Payton of all people. Sure, Payton probably was rotten to her, as he was to most people he was close to, but she left a baby with him. Could Virgil really mean so little to her? Mean nothing?

“You ok Uncle P?” Virgil looked up at him.

“It’s nothing.” Patton shook his head.

Virgil stared down at the picture with a curious glimmer in his eyes. He opened his mouth as if he were going to say something, but instead bit his lip and started chewing on his one of his band aids. He looked away quickly, the hint of longing still reflected in his brown irises.

“Do you wanna know what she was like kiddo?” Patton asked chipperly as he fought back the ice.

“No.” Virgil didn’t look up. “I don’t care.”

Patton and Logan met each other’s eyes. They both knew he was lying. He might as well have tried to tell them the moon was invisible.

“Well, she was very pretty. And very talented. And very popular.” Patton said with a smile. “And she can’t have been shallow, after all, Payton isn’t exactly a ten.”

“I said I don’t care.” Virgil turned the page. “For all I care she had three eyes.”

The next page was covered in Virgil’s baby pictures. One featured Roman grinning proudly as he stood beside a paper mâché egg that had been broken in half horizontally. He had positioned Virgil, no more than a week old so that his lower half was inside the shell as the rest of him lay asleep outside it. On the baby’s head, carefully positioned, was the smallest part or the egg that he now wore as a hat.

“Roman never did like your mom.” Logan added blankly. “He constantly called her a dragon.”

What the liar didn’t add was that he was taking the picture. Logan was no saint when it came to either of Virgil’s biological parents. As the moth food story would prove.

“It’s a cute picture though.” Patton changed the subject.

Virgil sat there quietly with a faraway look in his eyes. He chewed on one of his band aids robotically, pensively.

Patton suddenly realized that this was the first time Virgil had ever seen a picture of his mom. And up until now all he knew about her was… was that she didn’t want him. Patton wrapped his arm around Virgil and snuggled up to him. There were times when it was easier to talk with cuddles, this was one of them.

“You thinking big thoughts sweetie?” Patton asked gently.

“What?” Virgil laughed.

“Sorry, that’s what I ask my kids when they zone out. It’s another substitute for ‘penny for your thoughts’ that sounds more fun.”

“That just means if I tell you, I don’t get any cookies.” Virgil reasoned.

“Trust me, Patton will gladly distribute sweets.” Logan added.

“I’m fine.” Virgil smiled. “I was just going over that chess game in my head. I plan to win the next one.”

“Plans change.” Logan adjusted his glasses smoothly.

“Damn.” Virgil whispered in admiration.

“Oh, here’s a picture of you and mom.” Patton squeaked. “She loved you so much.”

“She wasn’t mad to be a young grandmother?” Virgil raised an eyebrow.

“Well, when Hazel left you with Payton, mom didn’t want to put you up for adoption. But she wasn’t gonna force Payton to be a parent, so I think she was just planning to keep you. But she got sick.”

Virgil rubbed Patton’s arm softly to console him.

“I’m ok, Sweetie.” Patton sighed. “That was a long time ago.”

Patton looked for another picture to distract them from all the bad feelings that hung heavy in the air. His eyes landed on one of Logan asleep on the couch, Virgil sound asleep in his heavily bruised arms. Despite Logan’s protests, he still blamed himself for that.

“Here’s you and Logan.” Patton chirped. “You were maybe about five months old. The pictures aren’t exactly in sequence. But you loved him when you were little.”

“Really?” Virgil briefly looked up from the image.

“You did. Whenever you saw him you started clapping your little hands.”

Logan rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. Patton never could figure out why he always reacted that way to Virgil’s clapping at him.

“And here’s a picture from when you said your first word.” Logan pointed to a different part of the page. “Yes, I realize how odd that may sound.”

The picture showed Patton holding the baby while crying excitedly.

“Your first word was pat.” Patton beamed.

“How exciting.” Virgil said blankly.

“He’s happy because you were trying to say ‘Patton’.” Logan explained.

“It was so adorable.”

Virgil smiled slightly at them, but he didn’t say anything. Instead he snuggled up to Patton and listened contentedly as they reminisced.

Patton sighed happily. Virgil didn’t feel as light and fragile as he had when he first came to stay. He had gained a nice amount of weight back and felt much warmer, not like a fever warm as he had felt, but a normal body heat type of warmth. The kind that means someone is healthy.

Patton wished once again for his camera to immortalize this moment but instead he continued showing Virgil the pictures. He had a better wish in mind. He wished that moments like this would be frequent. That these times would be commonplace and that he would never be able to recall a specific one, because there were just so many.

From now on his little anxious baby would never again have to wonder if anyone loved him.

“Aww,” Patton said out loud as he turned the page. “Here’s one of your little birthmark.”

The birthmark in question was a patch of red skin with three accompanying spots above it that was just between Virgil’s lower back and his bottom. Roman often teased that he would be growing a tail, while Patton insisted that it looked like a paw print.

“We’re not talking about the birthmark.” Virgil turned the page, beet red.

Patton and Logan both laughed.

#logicallity #parental anological #parental moxiety #platonic lamp #romanisanuncle #sanders sides human au #pattonsanders #logan sanders #romansanders #virgilsanders

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niiwa-angel · 5 years

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Late At Night

// Authors Note. mentions of child abuse, bed wetting, and hospitalization, if this offends you this story isn’t for you. also I’m not law major nor a doctor so take any medical or legal things in here with a grain of salt. This story also has a same sex couple, if this is going to make you scream at me, kindly piss off. requests and feed back are always welcome.//

The house was quiet, the street outside ethereally silent except for the distant sounds of the busy city still wide awake despite the hour, somewhere between very late or very early and entirely dependent on who was asked. A lone car driving on the empty suburban street broke the silence as the driver slowly took the curve, watching for any neighborhood pets that may be patrolling the area. While the outside was quiet, the inside of the car certainly wasn’t, as the driver’s music was turned up to fifteen while Queens “We Will Rock You” blasted from the speakers of the small car. Hal Jordan mouthed along to the lyrics of his favorite song, removing a hand from the wheel to massage his left eye as he slowly backed into his driveway, shutting the music off before opening the door. “The last thing I want is to wake the neighborhood.” He muttered to himself, pulling his military bag out from its place in the backseat. He knew that Ms. Earwood across the street would lecture him for hours if he were to let the sound of his music escape the confines of the car, her white hair pulled into a severe bun and her hobbled gait always reminded Hal of the old lady who always protected tweedy bird in looney tunes, is that woman was a busy body who found his “lifestyle” a detriment to society as a whole. Hal flung his bag over his shoulder while he fumbled with his keys, finally finding the one that opened the front door and pushing his way into the dark entryway, careful not to trip on the shoes littering the floor.

“I thought I told Wally to keep his shoes in the closet.” he whispered to himself with a quiet chuckle as he set his bag on the floor near the door. ‘I’ll fix that at a decent hour, right now I need food, a shower and my bed!’ he thought, making his way to the kitchen. There wasn’t much in the fridge, which wasn’t much of a surprise with two speedsters with accelerated metabolism living in the house and one of them was only eight, so he was always hungry. ‘And a real pain to keep up with.’ He mused, remembering how many times he almost lost his adopted nephew at various public locations, but he managed to find a bowl of pasta, which he tossed in the microwave and grabbed a glass of water to wait for the food to be warm. As an afterthought, he decided to check on the sleeping patrons in the house, heading to the master bedroom first, pushing the door forward a little to peek in at the disheveled mess of blond hair on the pillow before moving to the red door down the hall. Hal made sure to step lightly near his nephews room, Wally was a very light sleeper, an unfortunate left over from his time in his parents care. Hal didn’t know entirely what went down in that house only that his husband had gotten a call from his sister, Iris, that Wally was in the hospital and the doctors needed his closest relatives there.

//Flash Back//

He had thrown together an overnight bag for himself and Barry before driving the hour long trip to the hospital in Kansas City from Central in about 45 minutes, probably breaking every traffic law in the state to get to the little boy that meant to such to both men. Hal had been expecting a car accident, or a random kitchen disaster that had put the whole family in the hospital, instead they saw little Wally, dwarfed by the large hospital bed, in a medically induced coma to try and reduce the swelling in his brain from a blow to the head from his own father. It had been a hard day until the doctors brought Wally out of the coma, and then Barry and Iris had to have a serious discussion about who would take care of Wally, as no one was letting their sweet, kind hearted nephew go into the harsh treatment that is the American Foster Care system, Iris stressed that because of her job, she would be an unreliable guardian, so it was Barry and Hal who had adopted Wally into their home. Currently, Rudolf West was serving a fifteen year battery and assault charge as well as a twenty year attempted murder, which their lawyer had gotten tacked on and was able to convince the jury of, their lawyer was an anonymous gift from a not so local bat, as well as making sure that Hal and Barry won the custody case.

It had taken months to get Wally to adjust to their home, random things seemed to set him off into a panic, he wouldn’t eat unless given expressed permission even if the food was placed right in front of him, and any time either Hal or Barry raised their voices even just in a joking conversation the boy would start to get twitchy. After speaking to a specialist, they learned that these were likely knee jerk reactions that had probably once been the difference between getting hit and being safe, and given that those were his only tools he knew how to use, he was still using them, so Hal and Barry had to learn to look a little closer to see what spooked their nephew. For Barry, it was easier, he looked closely at things for a living, and soon recognized that Wally reacted to hand expressions, raised voices and the garage door opening and had started to work on reconditioning these things from bad to good.

Hal on the other hand, had some difficulty, it had often seemed like Wally had liked Barry better then him. It wasn’t until he noticed that there were some similarities between them that to an adult might not seem like much, but to a child were crucial. Hal liked to have a beer when he came home, Wally’s dad had often been drinking before or during a beating, Hal hooked his right thumb in his belt as his comfortable standing position, Wally’s dad stood like that before using his belt as a weapon, Hal raised his hands when he was passionate about what he was talking about, Wally’s dad raised his hands to do harm. It had taken a lot of time and patience before Wally had even spoken above a whisper to his uncles. The first time Wally asked to be held had been eight and a half months into living with them and Hal had let Wally see his tears, let him see how it wasn’t shameful to show emotions, and had sat with Wally in his arms for a solid hour, just holding him to his chest, tucked firmly under his chin.

//Back to Present//

The nest of red hair mixed well with the bright red of the room, Hal could see that Wally was curled onto his side, facing away from the door and knew that his nephew likely had his batman plushy tucked into his arm. With a soft smile, Hal closed the door and went back downstairs to eat his pasta. Fifteen minutes later, Hal made his way up the stairs and was about to push his way into the master bedroom when he saw a light coming from down the hall. Slowly making his way to the door from which it was coming from, Hal could make out soft sobs from behind it, knocking gently, he heard a scared gasp and a quiet “yes.” Hal slowly opened the door to see Wally sitting up, tears streaming down his face and his bedside lamp turned on, making his way over to the young boy’s bed. “Hey Hot-Rod.” He whispered, taking a seat on the edge of the foot of the bed. Wally bit his lip. “Hey Uncle Hal. I uh, I didn’t know you were home.” “I wasn’t till about half an hour ago.” “Oh.” Wally mused, looking down at his hands. Hal knew that look, it was the “I’m really uncomfortable and would like you to either skip to the point or leave me alone” face. Deciding on the primary, Hal bit the bullet. “Why are you awake Hot-Rod?” he asked, making sure to look authoritative but not intimidating. Wally squirmed a little and the muttered. “I, I had a bad dream.” “What about?’ Hal asked, despite having a pretty good idea what about. “About dad, he was yelling,” Wally sobbed, hiccuping slightly, “He was saying I was a, a mis- mistake. And that no one would ever want me, and that I’m a bad kid!”

Hal inhaled deeply, he wanted to rant, to tell his kid that his father was a piece of shit alcoholic whose brain was too destroyed by his own habits to have an intelligent thought. But that wouldn’t help Wally, so instead he put his hand on his boy’s shoulder, ensuring he had his full attention. “Listen to me Wallace West, you are not unwanted. You’re Uncle Barry and I love you so, so much. It would break our hearts if we ever lost you. And you may make mistakes from time to time, but that does not make you a bad kid, everyone makes mistakes, very few of them make people unlovable.” Hal really wished that this conversation were happening at a better hour because his brain was basically pudding, but the message seemed to get through to Wally because the kid nodded.

“Anything else on your mind squirt? Anything you need off your chest?” Hal pushed, and instantly Wally went pale and started to stammer.

“Promise you won’t be mad?” he asked, knowing on his lip again.

“I promise kiddo.” Wally seemed to relax a little and took a little breath.

“I, I wet the bed. I’m really sorry Uncle Hal, it was an accident, I won’t do it again, I pro-“ Hal raised a hand to cut off Wally’s rambling.

“It’s alright love, it was an accident, it happens to everyone at some point. Let’s get you cleaned up okay?” Wally nodded, and Hal slipped his hands under Wally’s arms, hoisting him up onto his hip, before grabbing a fresh pair of pajamas from his drawers. Hal took Wally to the bathroom and drew him a small bath, just around three inches of warm water.

“Okay kid, if you get yourself cleaned up, I’ll get your sheets in the washer and they should be okay for tomorrow, Okay?” Hal asked, receiving a small nod from the young redhead.

Hal quickly stripped the bed, throwing everything into the washing machine and setting a timer for it before returning to the bathroom. He knocked to announce himself, and slowly stepped in. Wally was wrapped in a fluffy towel on the floor, eyes half shut and his head drooping, Hal laughed and went over to support him

. “Hey Hot-Rod. Let’s just get you into some PJ’s and then you can sleep in okay?” He got a small nod in return, and helped dry the child off and step into some warm Flash pajamas. Scooping Wally up, he carried him to the master bedroom, which dismayed Wally a bit.

“But my room is over there.” He slurred, his arm moving lazily to point to his door. Hal smiled and rubbed his back. “I know kiddo, but it’s late and I really don’t want to have to make a bed, so I was thinking we could just have a sleep over. Alright?” Hal didn’t get a verbal response, just Wally curling closer to him, which he took as a yes. Hal turned to use his back to push open the bedroom door, quietly walking to the bed and drawing the covers back and placing Wally against Barry, before tucking both of them in and turning to the on suite bathroom. “Where are you going?” Wally rasped from his place in the bed, big green eyes peeking out from the pearly comforter. “I just gotta shower and change Hot-Rod, then I’ll be right there.” Wally nodded and laid his head down, while Hal went to take a shower.

//Ten minutes Later//

Hal exited the bathroom while shaking out his damp hair, he had changed from his civvies into a pair of boxer shorts. Looking into his bed he almost laughed out loud at the sight of Wally, curled into Barry’s arms, while Barry had a protective hand on the back of Wally’s head. Hal carefully slipped into the covers just as Barry opened his eyes. “Hey.” “Hey yourself.” Hal whispered. “There’s a Wally I our bed.” Barry teased, bringing the hand that wasn’t on Wally’s head over the boy to latch onto Hal’s. “There is a Wally in out bed.” Hal agreed, pulling his lover and their kid closer to him, tucking Wally beneath his chin, and touching his forehead with Barry’s. “Is he okay?” Barry whispered, his breath teasing the red locks of hair in front of him. “He will be Love, it’ll take some time, but he’ll be okay.” Hal pressed a kiss to the top of Wally’s head and pressed another to Barry’s forehead, wrapping his arms around them and hugging them tight, falling asleep to the sound of the Scarlet Speedster and his young nephews breathing. The entire family slept on.

#Wally West #Barry Allen #Hal Jordan #child abuse #HalBarry Family #Fluff #Angst #Cuddles

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ben-the-hyena · 4 years

Note

Timon from the lion king

Why I like them

A childhood character ! I love him for the magistral Hakuna Matata song, and for how he and Pumbaa are funny, and him by being a little proud jerk, while still contributing to the plot raising Simba, thinking to give up on the past and not caring about responsibilities is healthy and yet giving up on that to help his friend get his throne back as much as they loved their comfort zone and are scared. True friend, true guardian

Why I don’t

I always disliked how he tended to be a hypocrite and have Pumbaa pass dumber than he was either by stealing his good ideas after having said it was a bad idea and then mocking his philosophical/scientifical theories while trying to seem smarter. But eh. It's him. However his selves coming post movie having him be more of a jerk and stupid are NOT him

Favorite episode (scene if movie)

HAKUNA MATATA... WHAT A WONDERFUL PHRASE

HAKUNA MATATA... AIN'T NO PASSIVE CRAAAZE

IT MEANS NO WORRIES FOR THE REST OF YOUR DAAAAYS

IT'S OUR PROBLEM FREEEEEE

PHILOSOPHYYYYY

HAKUNA MATATAAAA

Favorite season/movie

The first movie, in which sure he and Pumbaa are funny but also have a real role in the plot

Favorite line

Sadly some of my favorite are in French and sound much less good in English

Favorite outfit

Hula Dancer is as iconic as he could. WOO !

OTP

OK I HONESTLY ALWAYS JOKED HE AND PUMBAA WERE A GAY COUPLE FOR RAISING SIMBA TOGETHER. BUT NOW WITH RHE LION GUARD RAISING A NEW CHILD WHO CALLS THEM UNCLES... I KNOW I DON'T CARE ENOUGH FOR THE LION GUARD TO SEE IT CANON BUT STILL IT RISES DOUBTS...

Brotp

Well him and Pumbaa being unable to be detaches from each other, a powerful duo balancing each other out (Pumbaa is kinder, Timon smarter) and living under the same philosophy. And Simba since they both raised him into their fakely good and irresponsible philosophy, but genuinely thinking it was good for him and basically seeing him as their kid, being jealous when Nala gets involved and ultimately accepting to help him out of their comfort zone

Head Canon

...I dunno honestly

Unpopular opinion

I will never accept the third movie and The Lion Guard as canon, too many jokes in one and too many childish retcons in the second. So everything Timon does in both or has (the reason why he left his colony, his family, that annoying as fuck adopted nephew) NEVER happened for real, I SAID SO

A wish

If only him and Pumbaa were not remembered only as funny buffoons (as much as I loved their show as a kid, by God did it contribute in degrading their characters the way tge audience sees them)

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen

Him to be like he was in the second movie again, useless and only there for butt jokes or butts of jokes just like Pumbaa was

5 words to best describe them

Selfish, lazy, unresponsible, friendly, faithful

My nickname for them

Fake mongoose

#moi #gif #ask #anon #timon #the lion king

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freshprinceofverone · 5 years

Note

Some fic idea, mh?? Our boys trying like really, really hard to keep their thing a secret to everyone, at first... But despite the appearances the rest of the escalus family is terribly curious and one by one they find out about them. (basically how the royal family adopted tybalt as their own... I love to see how an idea can be different when written by others~) ♥️

This got way out of hand. It ended up being really centred on Paris. Also I think it’s the first time I write something with Valentine!

(There’s an image in there because tumblr wasn’t letting me do the layout I wanted in the post itself. I wish I could do some image description to make it more accessible but I don’t know how to. Ask me if you can’t read it!)

“Paris! My favourite cousin, my dearest friend…”

The voice was Mercutio’s, and it came from behind Paris. The young man had assumed the entrance hall would be deserted at such an early hour; he was evidently wrong. He turned around as his cousin stepped from the shadow of a marble pillar that supported the hall’s high, ornate ceiling.

“Why, where have you been tonight?” asked Mercutio, grinning. “You’ve always been the most serious and proper in this family, am I now to discover even Lord Paris can sneak out in the night and have affairs?”

“Please do not tell anyone,” said Paris softly.

Mercutio raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“I’m sorry,” added Paris, “but it should stay a secret. I cannot tell you more than that.”

“A secret affair? A forbidden affair? Dear Paris I wouldn’t have expected that of you! Is she married? Is she the daughter of someone important? Or… is she poor? C’mon you’ve got to tell me!”

“I cannot do that, dear cousin. It is serious, it is all that I can tell you. Now do let me go and get prepared before the day.”

Mercutio pouted but he did not pursue the subject, so Paris stole to his quarters. Since his cousin had an inkling of what he called an “affair” he would not let go. Paris would have to be even more prudent. On the next occasion he should also ask his cousin what he was doing to be up so early, though Verona was well aware that Mercutio was always having “affairs” of his own in town.

Paris and Mercutio often sparred against each other in the castle courtyard. They were both good, even though Paris, being older, was more experienced.

“You’ve been getting better,”commented Mercutio one afternoon during such an occasion. “Have you been practising with someone?”

Paris lowered his rapier.

“I often practice, as you do.”

Mercutio gazed into his face. Paris kept his eyes steady. Mercutio’s were glimmering. The glint of a fever he had been ill with only days before was still present in them.

“It’s different,” he said. “Your style is evolving.”

“Do you think so?” smiled Paris. “Or are you only now acknowledging my superiority?”

He lifted his rapier again, waited for Mercutio to do the same, and attacked.

“I know I’ve seen this move somewhere else before!” cried Mercutio.

He seemed sulky. Paris put away his rapier and Mercutio followed suit. Paris repressed a sigh and wiped a drop of perspiration from his brow.

Mercutio’s hand stopped him mid-movement. His fingers gripped Paris’ wrist.

“This!” He pointed to a wring on Paris’ finger. “Tybalt! It’s Tybalt’s! And the moves – they’re Tybalt’s too!”

“Let me explain. Tybalt and I are indeed in an engagement of sorts… We are, as a matter of fact, engaged. Please let me…”

“Mercutio, do be quiet, you are talking nonsense.”

“Yes, I am, but you’re doing nonsense.”

It was at that moment that Paris realised Valentine had joined them. The boy took Mercutio’s hand, and his brother said no more. Valentine looked up to Paris.

“Mercutio promised to spend some time with me this afternoon.”

“I did!” his brother exclaimed. “Sorry Val’ I almost forgot!”

They went hand in hand, and Paris was left alone. He had hoped for a conversation with Mercutio, but it had not happened the way he hoped. He wondered if Valentine had heard what they were talking about.

“Paris, can I stay with you for a while?”

Valentine stood at the door to his cousin’s bedroom He was in his nightshirt. It was late, and Paris was ready to go to bed, but he accepted.

“Have you been having nightmares?”

Valentine muttered. Of course, Paris was foolish to expect a twelve year old boy to ever admit to having nightmares.

“Mercutio’s out with Romeo and the others,” explained the boy, sitting on the bed.

Paris sat with him.

“I’m sorry,” continued Valentine, “I couldn’t help but hear what you two were saying the other day in the courtyard.”

“Do not worry yourself about it. What did you understand?”

“Are you really engaged to Tybalt Capulet?”

“Yes, I am.”

“But…”

Paris braced himself for the incoming question. Men did not get engaged or married to other men. Moreover he had always been seen to express interest in girls. This engagement probably came as a surprise.

“I’m sorry,” repeated Valentine, “but isn’t he a bit of a jerk?”

Paris was taken aback, but he laughed.

“He can seem cold, but he is a good person. I wish you two could get acquainted more, you would really like him.”

Valentine smiled but stopped and shook his head.

“I would like to know him indeed: that way I’d know if it’s you or Mercutio who’s right and if he is a jerk or not.”

Paris smiled at the boy’s serious expression.

“Mercutio probably knows less of him than I do.”

“He should know, they did go out together!”

Paris tried to laugh. That was news to him.

“Why did you not tell me of your past relationship with Mercutio?” asked Paris.

Tybalt flung himself into a sofa.

“Where does that come from? Did he tell you that?”

“No, he did not.”

Tybalt’s features lightened a bit. Paris still felt uneasy.

“Is it true?” he asked.

“Stuff happened. It wasn’t a relationship.”

Paris sighed with relief, but his original question remained unanswered.

“Why did you not tell me?”

Tybalt looked into his fiancé’s eyes in silence for a moment.

“Awkward. Plus we mostly get into fights nowadays… I picked the wrong cousin. But you’re not so easy to approach.”

Paris sat don next to Tybalt who stroked his hair absent-mindedly. He smiled.

“Now that this question is out of the way and that my cousins are informed, would it not be a good time to start getting along together as a family?”

“Your optimism is endearing. I can try.”

A few weeks later Valentine was convinced Tybalt was “pretty cool” and he called him “cousin”. Mercutio teased them all about it, but he started calling Tybalt “dear cousin” too. Paris often inconspicuously invited Tybalt to dinner, and the Prince received him well. Paris guessed he was glad to see Mercutio and Tybalt could suffer each other’s presence.

After one such dinner Tybalt asked have a conversation with the Prince in private.

“What are they talking about?” asked Valentine once they had left.

Paris felt his ears turning red. Tybalt and him had talked about telling the Prince of their engagement, but he had not suspected Tybalt would dare do it so soon.

“Is Tybalt asking for your hand?” snickered Mercutio.

Valentine giggled. Paris’ whole face was burning.

A door crashed, and Tybalt ran into the room. He stopped and gazed at Paris. A rare smile illuminated his face.

“He said yes!”

Paris’ mind was blank.

“He did ask for your hand!” screamed Mercutio.

Valentine shrieked with laughter and he started chanting “Uncle said yes! Uncle said yes!…”

Paris himself grinned and repeated “He said yes…”

Tybalt stared at them. The Prince appeared in the doorway and nodded.

“I did indeed say yes.”

Valentine stood up, took Tybalt by the hand and made him accompany Mercutio and him in a victory dance. Paris mouthed “thank you” to his uncle.

#there is no set time and space for this #time and space are constructs #deal with it #i'm more and more influenced by the idea of mercutio and tybalt having had some sort of relationship #sort of wuthering heights influence in the courtyard scene #in the first draft mercutio was more reminiscent of catherine #in the end i decided to go back to shakespeare #(since when do i do that?)#but instead of working with iambic pentameters i went with some ee cummings inspired style #which is weird in a dialogue but it's my fic i do what i want #plus it gives mercutio his weird poetry back i think #it's an aspect that i sadly often underestimate in my fics #probs because i'm no poet myself #also #aparis uses so many words #the whole family (tybalt included) shares two brain cells #and the prince always has at least one of them #but they're going to be so happy #i'm so glad for them #this #is a lot of tags #fresh prince writes #aki draws things

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rpausandwhatifs · 4 years

Text

There’s This Guy|| Elliot Drabble

@danhowell-rp

@felixpierp

@shanedawson-rp

Elliot had been fighting it for so long, that it was causing him to lose sleep. He didn’t want to bring it up in family therapy because maybe he could learn how to work through his problems without a trained mental health professional in the room. It wasn’t the best decision, but he had walked himself out of his room and down the stairs. Making sure on the way down that the girl was still outside.

Persi had been doing this futile assignment her therapist gave to her to read a book about personality disorders and anxiety to help her answer her questions and move along in her sessions to a point where she wouldn’t need to take them. They were visiting in London with Bryony, but the three parents had stepped out for a little while and trusted that the two were old enough to look after themselves. A beautiful day, she had her hair out of her ponytail, allowing herself to relax in order to get settled into the book. Criss-cross applesauced under the tree, she viewed the pages and started to fill her head with the words, her long orange locks blowing in the wind. It was a rare and gentle moment for her.

Elliot watches from the sliding door and begins to think about what he’s about to do. He’s basically giving her (and Persephone) cannon fodder, and he has a hard enough time as it is trying to figure out all of this out. Who knows? It might even be a passing thing but he wanted to test it on someone other than his parents, who he felt like would be uncomfortable at best, and probably disgusted worst-case scenario. Plus, Persi is gay(?), right? It won’t feel weird if he is, but it might be the person; you can’t help who you love, right?

The boy was so tangled in his thoughts that his saunter through the grass made him trip on his own awkward feet, exclaiming before tumbling in front of her. He sighed and stared at the sky a little longer on his back, his entire train of thought derailed.

Look, Elliot! It’s your cousin Harlan!

Baby cousin! Gimme a hug!

...

H-heyy Harlan...coming to babysit?

Yeah, but first I gotta finish my homework, your parents aren’t leaving for a little while...c’mere I’m not a stranger gimme a hug, cuz!

...

Ugh! Your sister snuck out again *sighs*...

*shrugs* You can call Papa and Otosan, and then come back, we can play a game- Oooo! Dibs on the good controller!

Du är så lat! Just go upstairs and get the other on.

The-then I’ll lose...

Then wrestle me for it! Show me how strong you are!

Y-You’re so big! I hate wrestling...

Why do you hate wrestling?

Because Persi is too big and she hurts my arm...

Do you like..wrestle with other boys?

Ew, no...why would I do that?

Cus sometimes boys wrestle! I wrestle with Reiner and stuff.

Again. Not me. Also huge. And ew.

Okej! Jag fattar!..And stop saying “ew.”

Stop talking other than English.

Make me...*looks at him, raises brows* Jag slår vad om att du inte kommer

Ha-harlan..

Tell me why it’s gross to wrestle boys.

...

“Ellie,” Persi said, “Yo, why are you being weird?...Helllooo!”

Elliot snapped out of it and turned his head to look at his sister, “Huh?”

“The fuck?!”

“Papa told us not to curse,” he replied, turning his head toward her.

“I don’t care. You came out here, ate shit on my patch of grass, then stared at the clouds...*sighs* What do you want?”

“I think there’s something wrong with me.”

“*scoffs* Oh that’s easy! You were born. Next question.”

“Noo! Persi...I-I-I’m...I think I’m a bigot.”

“Bigot? Do you even know what that word means?”

“I don’t like people...right?”

“No, dumbass-”

“I’m serious, Persi! Stop! I think I have a problem with sombeody...”

“Oh! Is someone picking on you?” she finally caught on, straightening and narrowing her eyes.

“Well...It’s hard to explain...”

“Is it a teacher? Another kid at school?..School bus?” she asked sitting up, feeling her chest drop that someone might be bullying her baby brother.

“He’s older than you...” he says sheephisly.

“Ew! Did you say something to Dad or Dan?”

“N-No...” he feels like the world is closing in on him.

“Some fucking perv is diddling you and I have to say something. Ellie this is serious shit, how long has this been going on? Do you know where he lives?”

“N-No! I-I-It’s something wrong with me...” he timidly tries to explain, finally sitting up and leaning over and points to his chest, urging his sister to keep her voice down.

“There’s nothing wrong with you. What he’s doing is wrong and that fucko is about to go to jail!” Persi exclaimed, shutting her book and starting to stand up when Elliot grabbed her arm in attempt to get her to sit back down, then jerking away from him, “NO ONE FUCKS WITH MY BABY BROTHER! Come on, we’re telling Dad.”

“STOP!” he yelled, his voice cracked, “It’s not like that! I don’t think I like...act like a normal boy, or I don’t think I like boys like Harlan or if I’m supposed to grow up like...I WANNA WRESTLE WITH HIM AND I DON’T KNOW HOW!”

“...W-...Is Harlan diddling you?” Persi whipped around to face her brother, the disgust on her face, “Wait, what? I dunno what you’re trying to say...Is he making you uncomfortable or touching you in the no-no zone?”

“N-No, no! Nothing like that! I just...I guess...can you like teach me how to wrestle with Harlan?”

Persi was completely perplexed by her brother's request, "Huh? What? Why? And why Harlan specifically?"

"Well if you were here that one time he was babysitting me he wanted to wrestle and I said ew and he told me it was bad to say ew to wrestling with other boys."

"Wait, like how him and Reiner wrestle? Like how boys just kinda roughhouse? Why do you say ew? That's weird."

"'Cus it's the first thing I say when he says it, but it's not how I felt. I dunno why I said it, and that's why I said that something is wrong with me and one of my friends called me a bigot because I don't like touching boys, but I like touching boys, I just don't know how."

Persi sat back down slowly and attempted to digest what her brother was explaining. She watched him try to use as much as his sixth grade vocabulary can muster. It made sense enough that his friends weren't helping him much, but the whole thing with Harlan wasn't clicking for her. Her eyes looked to the sky as she pushed her hair back and sighed, "You...Do you think you're not tough enough?" she asked.

"That's, like, part of it, but my friends don't wrestle, and I don't hang out with like big boys like Reiner or Harlan."

"So you want to learn how to wrestle because you want to wrestle with Harlan to be tougher?" she asked carefully.

"Kinda. I wanna learn how to wrestle so that I can only wrestle with Harlan," he admits with confidence.

"So the word you were looking for is probably homophobe. Just thought I let you know. However, if I think you're saying what I think you're saying then I really think you need to talk to Dad or Dan."

"I don't think they would understand-OWwwwwah!"

"Fucking idiot! Our parents are gay grown up boys! Gay means you like boys!" she bursted, extending a leg out to kick his, "You're not a bigot, though, and you're not a homophobe. Thank God."

"So you're calling me gay?" he asked, sitting up on his elbows.

"No. I'm calling the feeling you have towards Harlan gay...do you like girls?" she corrected him then asked swiftly as to not cause any awkward tension.

"I mean yeah, who doesn't?"

"Bigots and gay boys."

"So I'm a bigot," he nods and offers his answer, causing the girl to throw her foot down into his chest and knocking him back, "OWwwah! Get your dirty foot off me! This is my Versace shirt Otosan bought me!"

"How dumb are you?" she asked with a bite.

"Dumb enough to lay in the grass and think your foot is dirtier than the actual dirt I'm sitting in."

"Maybe you are a bigot," she scoffed, but trying not to be too mean on her innocent sibling.

"Seriously, Persi! What do I do?" Elliot whined, "Tell meeee!.."

"Alright, alright! Stop crying...Well. Do you wanna wrestle for real or do you wanna like they do on TV?" she asked.

"There's a difference?"

"Oh my god- yes! Absolutely!" she exclaimed.

"What's the difference? D-Don't show me!.."

"Uh, Reiner did competition wrestling for a while...And that's like sumo where you're trying to make him tap out or go outside the circle. The one on TV, which is fake, by the way, is a lot more slamming and jump moves and got some interesting drama," she said with a smile.

"Who's cuter?" Elliot asked innocently.

"What's your thing? Like why do you wanna wrestle Harlan?"

"He's..big..?"

"Not enough! I like Reiner and he's big. Do you like being held or do you like bonding with him or something like that? You understand that these are contact sports, right?" she folded her arms.

"Oh...ew."

"Why ew?"

"Because my friends and I don't play contact sports."

"Well then you're just gonna have to be different. Teach them and see if they like it."

"Again, I only wanna do it with Harlan."

"Stop dancing around why you like Harlan so much and just tell me."

"Uhh...cus..I-I'm not supposed to. He's our cousin. You can't have a crush on family."

"He's not our family technically...not blood anyway."

"What?"

"That's why I'm not completely grossed out. See, you're old enough now so I can tell you."

"What? That I'm adopted?"

"Harlan is, actually..."

"Wait...really?"

"Well, technically. Harlan has a mommy, but she couldn't take care of him, so Uncle Felix and Uncle Shane adopted him."

"Whoaa...but is it still wrong?"

"Yes, because he's too old. He's got 10 years on you, easily."

"Well can I still tell him how I feel?"

"Absolutely! He’ll still probably answer more of your questions, too."

Elliot was finally able to relax, pushing his hair back from his forehead and let it flop back down. Persi started to pick up her book and opened it to try and find where she left off. He watched her, sucking his teeth, causing her to flip the book and inhale sharply, widening her eyes at him. "Teach me to wrestle!" he whined, "And stop hurting my arm! C'mon! We fly back to the states tomorrow and I wanna try it with him."

"Ugh! Fine!" Persi said, moving her book and getting on her knees, "Get up, just like this."

Elliot moves as his sister puts her hair in a ponytail, "Alright! What do I do?" he asks, taking a heavy huff to prepare himself.

"Mentally prepare yourself to be grabbed...Physics dictates that your lower torso is the center of gravity so he's gonna grab your torso to get you off your feet and knock you on your ass."

"Ew-OWwwaah!" he exclaimed at Persi slamming her palm into his forehead, followed by her bonking him on the top.

"Stop. Saying. Ew. Open your knees and brace yourself," Persi said.

"H-How else do I prepare?" he asked, his shoulders still wound up. She puts her hands on his shoulders, trying to roll them.

"You've gotta loosen up. You can think clearer if your muscles aren't tense...What did it for you? With Harlan?" she asked, showing him to shake out his nerves.

"Arms...I-wow!...I like-yeah- I like his arms,” Elliot surprised himself with how automatic the response flew from his lips, then realizing how his heart felt to say it.

“That’s normal. And yeah he’s got nice arms, makes his hugs feel like you can trust him,” Persi said.

“When do you not trust a hug?” Elliot asked with a raised eyebrow.

“If you’ve been heartbroken, you’re me, or their energy is wayy off. Now, when I approach you I’ll try and go easy but I want you to try push back and pin me to the ground,” Persi explained, making sure to lock eyes with her brother, and get herself in position to tackle him with a small expectation he’d go down like he always does, “Ready? It’s gonna happen fast.” She recieves a nod, but just before he pushes her shoulders a little.

“Hey..uhh Persi?” he asked nervously.

“Hm? What?” she asked, popping her head up.

“I’d trust a hug from you, Persephone, too! Also, uh, thanks for not being whole jerk...” he admitted with a little smile.

Persephone looked at the boy and grimaced, but Persi felt like she might well up with tears because she really didn’t think she was a good sister, let alone he could trust with Persephone and everything, but she figures they should since their circumstances are unique.

[One Week Later]

“So...how was England?” Harlan asked, sitting on the couch, leaning back and flipping through something to watch as he settled into the easiest $200 he’s ever made. Persi had to go to work for the night and since her parents didn’t know when she’d be back (or if she was coming back that night), Harlan could use the down time and the money for when he went back to school after summer break.

“It was cool as usual, my mom, dad, and Otosan went out more by themselves so Persi and I got to hang out,” he started, watching the other’s sweatshirt-clad arms rest by his head, while he chose something to watch, settling by adjusting his hips into the couch. For the first time, Elliot was sweating, and not because it was too hot or because he rarely got in trouble, but because of the boy’s dark brown hair lazily gelled on top into a neat quiff, the soft curve of his body molded into the couch, making his sweatshirt ride up a little, “Uhh...how’s college?”

“UHm...I’m really busy. Was doing a lot of work and then I had a few projects. I like the library up there. The events are pretty fun. I was a little surprised freshman year but they don’t..do much for sophomores,” he said, looking at him with a sigh then furrowed his brows when he saw Elliot, “You okay? You feeling alright?”

“I think I like boys...” Elliot says, not realizing how quickly he jumped into the topic, “But I-I’m new a-and...Persi said for me to ask you for some advice.”

Harlan tried to understand what he was saying and sat up a little more, “Elliot...you know I’m too old for you, right?...I didn’t mean to make you feel nervous or uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, I know...but uhh..you made me realize it, so in a way you’re responsible for making me like this,” Elliot started, getting a little more comfortable and uncrossing his arms, slinking into the couch with him.

“Oh, am I really?..What’d I do?” Harlan chuckled lightly, tilting his head up and shaking his head a little in disbelief.

“I learned how to wrestle because I wanted to wrestle with you. Also, I sorta learned how homophobic it was to say ew all the time.”

“Ahh...so your sister is a good influence on you...” he said with a nod, smiling still to keep from spilling over with a giggle, he wiped his mouth and scratched his little hairs growing along his jawline just clustered enough to say he was trying to grow a beard.

“Yeah well, sometimes she’s good. I just wish sometimes was a little more often, but she’s still my sister and I love’r!” Elliot says pridefully, then backing up a little when Harlan looks at him, “Uhh..uhm yeah, she said this means I’m starting to go through puberty, but I gotta ask my dads about it.”

“Well I’ll tell you right now, it sucks, like pojke gör det jävla suger...enjoy being young, Elliot. Revel in that innocence for as long as you can...but if I heard you correctly, you said you wanted to wrestle me?” Harlan caught him before he wavered off and downplayed his gesture.

“Uhh y-yeah, but I just wanted to learn because I like how...uhh..strong you are~ and uhh it feels really nice to get hugs from you,” Elliot continued, not expecting him to pick up on it, his sweat getting a little worse as he struggled to look the boy in the eye that was staring him down.

“Bluush! Är du inte en söt?~..There’s nothing good on anyway..so get up, lemme see what you got! I’ll go easy on you as long as you’re not weird about it, okay?” Harlan mentioned as he sat up, slapping the boy’s knee as he got up.

“Uhh I’ll-I’ll try..maybe we should have a code word for if it’s too much?” Elliot asked, slowly getting up as he felt like he was about to throw up, but he could practically imagine living in the boy’s arms. Harlan rolling his sleeves up and standing over him just caused his knees to weaken just a little more. He didn’t remember him being this big, or brawny, or smelling so good.

“HOw aboouutt...hm..what’s your favourite colour?” he asked, taking in the boy’s obvious hesitation at approaching him.

“Black,” he answered quickly.

Harlan rolled his eyes at his selection and shook his head, then asking again, “What’s your second favourite colour?”

“Why doesn’t black work?” he quickly asked back.

“Too many hard consonants. If you can’t breathe, you can’t get your lips together to create blah noise and the ack is just gonna sound like you straining against me. Pick another colour,” he quickly explained as he tried to fashion a ring out of some pillows and throws.

“Oh. Orange then. I like how it sounds! OORRaannnggggEEE....”Elliot added, which made Harlan giggle and nod, shuffling over towards the circle in the middle of the room, “Oh hey can you just talk to me about how this whole puberty thing goes? I really don’t feel all that jazzed about asking my parents..I’m their baby and all..”

“Maybe later, cus I wanna talk to them first to make sure it’s okay. Especially since you have this little crush on me, men jag berättar inte för dem om det...” Harlan said shaking out his limbs and getting on his knees while he rolled his neck, “That’ll be just between us boys.”

Elliot got a wave of excitement and anxiety, a little frustrated that he spoke in Swedish over whatever the last part of the sentence was, but he thinks he’s not gonna tell his parents. It made him wonder, but it also made him worry. Was he just not going to tell them right away? Was Persi onto something about Harlan being a perv? His head was swirling and he was both scared and confused, which Persi told him he needed to clear his head before he engaged in a fight or any sort of activity like this. “Yeah..uhh yeah..sure..” He awkwardly gets on his knees and stares at Harlan before thinking of something that might calm him down, “H-Hey, Harlan?”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“Uhh before we start..c-c..would it be too much to ask for a hug?” he asked, shy and timid and feeling the full weight of his question despite what he’d just explained.

“Sure. Anytime. Never saw harm in a hug,” he says brightly and pulls his forearms in as he embraces him. It was so surreal to think that Elliot looked to him as such an influence. Elliot squeezed against the boy and sighed a huge deep sigh, allowing his body to relax into his. Harlan rubbed his back a little, feeling him relax, giving him a soft kiss on the top of his head before giving him a playful shove, “Alright, now come on, cuz! Ge mig allt du har!“

#phan #persephone grace #elliot james #harlan kjellberg-yaw

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supremebathroomlord · 5 years

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👄 + all the seven. All of them. Jason, Piper, frank, Hazel, Annabeth, Leo and Nico. (I know he’s not part of the seven but listen. Yes he is)

"Alright, let’s start with Annabeth because she’s my girlfriend and I love her and oh gods she’s going to kill me for disappearing on her like that. Again. Wise Girl’s my anchor, y’know? Keeps me steady. I know it’s kinda cheesy but we’ve got each other’s backs - I couldn’t have survived everything I’ve been through if she weren’t there beside me. She’s a badass and I still kinda can’t believe she likes a dork like me. Plus with her help I might actually not fail miserably at school!”

“Jason was a really cool dude. I mean we clashed sometimes (it’s a Big Three thing - horrible tempers, generational beef from our dads, plus the ability to make natural freaking disasters. Families fight is all I’m saying.) but in the end we made a good team. Big Three solidarity and all that. He went through a lot of unfair crap throughout his life because the gods apparently think we’re their toys and I can really relate to that. He was a Roman demigod but he knew how to piss off gods like the best of ‘em. I miss him.”

“Piper was probably the one out of the seven (eight?) I got to know the least. She’s a real badass, though. Mad respect to anyone who can bluff their way out of a bad situation. Saved my life a couple times. Doesn’t like talking about her family which I totally get. Hope she’s doing okay. I think Coach Hedge and his cloud nymph wife are staying with her and her family? Yeah, I got nothing.”

“Frank can turn into an elephant. Anyone who can turn into an elephant is cool. He’s a child of Mars who’s a world-class jerk (a jerk I beat up when I was twelve, thank you very much. Well, Ares. Gah, this Greek-Roman thinng is confusing.) but I try not to hold jerk parents against their kids. I’m also technically his great-great-great-plus a thousand uncle? And his….second cousin? Why did the gods have to have such a confusing family? Look, when I told Tyson Frank was a descendent of Poseidon he basically adopted Frank into the family and I wouldn’t want it any other way. Also I refuse to let him live down the goldfish thing. Look, I love you dude, but a goldfish?”

“Hazel is like a little sister to me. She’s got her whole metal detector thing going on plus she actually rides Arion which makes her super badass - yes, all the women in my life are badasses. That’s because they’re awesome. Also according to the internet (which I can now use) Arion is technically my brother?

…

Yeah I’m going to forget I read that. Gross, Dad. Anyway, Hazel saved my life a bunch and I’m really proud of her. I really miss those Roman numbskulls.”

“Ah, Captain and/or Chef Valdez, the second most sarcastic scoundrel to to sail the high seas! He also makes dragons and tacos, so you really get the whole package. Seriously though, he’s a great dude. Tries to keep things upbeat. Although if he makes another Aquaman reference I’m going to chuck him into the ocean.”

“Nico….I’m really glad he’s on our side? That dude can be scary. He’s had it really bad though, what with the being gay in the ‘30s and ‘40s, losing his mom, time travel weirdness, losing his sister, having Hades for a dad….I don’t blame the kid for being mad at me (although I think we’re cool now and personally I really like not having skeletons chase me). He seems to be doing better these days and his boyfriend, Will, seems to make him happy. I’m proud of the kid for getting to where he is now. I know what it’s like to be angry at the world and it can break you. Like I said, I’m really glad he’s on our side. Mostly because he’s in a much better place now but also because I think his dad wants to kick my ass and I like my ass where it is.”

#smallblueboyscout #((sorry its a long one but its percys friends he has opinions))

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hymn2000 · 6 years

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Hope I’ve Got Something To Lose - MCU AU fanfic - C5

Story overview: Peter has an accident, and Tony makes a drastic decision. In the midst of everything, a face from the past reappears - but Peter isn’t too sure about reconnecting after everything that’s happened.

Previous chapters: 1 2 3 4

Part of my irondad and spiderson series.

Warnings/themes: injury, hospital stuff, hurt/comfort, mental health stuff, family stuff

You can also find me on AO3

Chapter 5 - When You Go Don’t Tell Us Where

For a moment, Peter just stared. He glanced at the crossing. He could run, disappear into the crowd... But he didn’t. Liz was right in front of him now.

“Wh-what are you doing here? You moved away”

“We’re back for a while, visiting” Liz said, looking at him. “You look so different. Have you been ill?”

“Kinda. I had an accident, a couple of weeks ago. I’m still kinda healing from that”

Peter found it hard to look her in the eye. It was so weird seeing her again after all this time.

“How have you been? I heard about what happened to your building. I’m sorry about your aunt”

Peter’s heard started to thump, and he swallowed hard. “Thank you...”

“I saw in the news about you being adopted too. I never knew you were that close to the Stark’s”

“Um. Well, we weren’t when me and you knew each other. I mean, I didn’t even know Loki back then. Um... Uh, well, you see, we kinda got closer after... After you moved away. We were real close, yknow, me and them and my aunt. I stayed with them loads. They were basically family, and then when the accident happened... Well, they took me in. There was never any question about it”

“It explains the clothes and the news stories... You look good”

“Thanks..”

“Are you still at Midtown?”

Peter shook his head. “I go to St Hendricks. It’s- it’s one of the fee paying schools”

“Oh, I see. Hey, Peter? I know we didn’t part on great terms, but can I have your number? It would be good to catch up with you properly. I’m gonna be around for a while, so”

“Oh. Um...”

“Peter!”

Peter’s head jerked, and he saw Loki stood a few feet away.

“I-I’d better go. I kinda wandered off”

“Ok, I get it. Can I-”

“I’m sorry, I really gotta run. Dad can be kinda strict”

“Peter..”

“I’m sorry”

Peter ducked his head and ran over to Loki.

“I told you to stay close” Loki said. “Who’s the girl? Friend of yours?”

Peter didn’t respond. Loki put an arm round him and walked him on. Peter looked back over his shoulder, but Liz had already disappeared into the crowd.

Peter didn’t feel great. He felt all funny inside, and he was tired and a little giddy. He felt weak, and walking felt like much more of an effort now. Once they were about halfway down the high street, Loki noticed something was up. He gave Peter a little squeeze and hailed a cab.

“Oh dear” Tony said, walking into the living room to find Loki tucking Peter up on the sofa. “It doesn’t look as though he wasn’t strong enough after all”

“He was fine until about half an hour ago” Loki said. “I think he just needs to eat and sleep, and then he’ll be fine”

Tony sighed, stroking Peter’s hair gently. “You’re white as a sheet, son. You look like you’ve seen a ghost”

Peter didn’t say anything.

“Lolly, sweetheart, I’ll sit with him if you wanna sort him something to eat”

Loki nodded and stood up. “I won’t be long”

Tony moved and sat down on the edge of the sofa. He fingered the blanket Peter was wrapped in.

“This is nice. Disney shop?”

Peter nodded.

“I saw all those bags in the hallway. Looks like you’ve been getting spoilt today”

Peter shrugged.

Tony sighed. “Alright, sweetheart. You seem exhausted. You’ll feel better once you’ve had something to eat and taken a little nap”

Peter nodded slightly. He hoped he was right.

Peter wasn’t very hungry at all, but he cleared his plate even so. He was feeling quite hollow inside. He was left on his own once he’d eaten, which was both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, he didn’t have to talk to anyone, but on the other hand, he was alone with his thoughts.

He could barely believe he’d just seen Liz again after all this time. The last time they’d spoken, it was just before she’d moved, and she hadn’t really wanted to speak to him. It was weird, not least because he couldn’t shake the fact that it was his fault her dad was in prison - not that she knew that, of course. Truth be told, he never thought he’d see her again. He wasn’t even sure they’d really ever even been friends. Acquaintances, yes. Friendly acquaintances, most likely. But he’d always been too nervous to really get to know her properly. He hadn’t exactly been in her league at Midtown. After everything that had happened, he wasn’t really sure any of that mattered anymore. There was a time when he thought of Liz often, but she’d been off his radar for so long that she barely crossed his mind - and for a hell of a long time, he hadn’t thought of her at all.

He got the shock of his life when he saw her on the street. He certainly hadn’t expected it. He was surprised he’d even managed to speak. She wanted to catch up. She was going to be around for a while. He wasn’t sure how long ‘a while’ was. He was almost grateful that he was grounded, because that way, he couldn’t bump into her again, accidentally or otherwise.

Eventually, unable to sleep, Peter hauled himself up from the sofa and wandered out to the kitchen. Luckily, it was empty. He helped himself to a glass of Loki’s rose lemonade and stood looking at the calendar. There were a disturbing amount of social events pencilled in. He hoped he wouldn’t have to go. He hated all of those parties. He much preferred the alternative, which was sat on the sofa with Thor, eating pizza and watching telly. Hopefully his broken ribs and the big gashes on his front would be enough to get him out of going. Sure, the cuts didn’t really hurt anymore, and his ribs weren’t hurting quite so much - but his parents didn’t need to know that.

Peter wasn’t hungry that evening when they sat down to dinner. Loki went over to the fridge to get himself a drink.

“Peter, have you been at my lemonade?”

“Um...”

“How any times have I told you not to touch what doesn’t belong to you?” Loki scowled, shutting the fridge door.

He returned to the table, setting his glass of lemonade down and handing Tony a beer.

“I’d love a drink, thanks dad” Peter said, rolling his eyes.

Loki narrowed his eyes at him, filling the boys glass from the water jug on the table. Tony laughed at the look on his face.

“Don’t look so offended, Peter” he said. “You don’t drink anyway near enough water anyway. Now stop sulking and eat your dinner”

Peter spent a while stabbing at his food with his fork and pushing it round the plate without actually eating anything. During a gap in conversation, Tony noticed.

“Peter, stop playing with your food. Eat, please”

“I’m not hungry” Peter mumbled.

“Just eat what you can. You need the strength”

“Why?”

“You just do. Now stop arguing and eat your dinner” Tony said firmly.

“I’m not hungry!”

Loki sighed irritably. “Do as you’re told! I’ve had just about enough of your attitude”

“What are you talking about?! Just today we were messing about in shops and stuff and you were fine. Just cos I’m not hungry, that doesn’t mean I’ve got an attitude”

“I’m not in the mood for an argument. Just do as you’re told”

Peter folded his arms over his chest. “No”

“Right, I’m not putting up with this” Tony snapped. “Peter, go to your room”

“With pleasure”

Peter got up and left the room. Tony sighed, picking his fork up again.

“That boy can be such a teenager at times”

“And you said teens were better than babies”

As expected, Tony came to talk to Peter later on that evening.

“I won’t have you answering back to us like that”

“Oh what, so I can’t answer back? But if I don’t say anything, you’ll just say I’m ignoring you. I can’t win!”

“See, this is exactly what I’m talking about! I thought I ran a household based on mutual trust and respect. You need to take the attitude down a peg. What’s gotten into you?”

“I’m tired, I’m sore, and I’m upset. Can’t you just leave me alone?”

“What are you upset about, Peter?”

“Everything! You’ve grounded me, taken my suit away, locked me out of the lab. Do you know how boring it is sat about with nothing to do all day?”

“I bought you that Lego set” Tony pointed out.

“Yeah, and what do I do when I’ve finished that? I’m bored! I just want to be able to do the things I’ve always done”

“You’re not getting the suit back, you know that” Tony said. “Plus, you’re too weak to be doing anything much right now anyway. Can’t you content yourself with videos or something until you’re ok again?”

“I’m fine! Why do I have to stay inside all the time? Can’t I go out to the library or to see my friends or something? Anything! I’m so bored, stuck in here all the time”

“You’re too weak. You can’t be trusted to keep yourself safe right now either. Come on now; you need to simmer down. It’s starting to get late. Time to have a bath and go to sleep”

“But what about what I’ve said?”

“We’ll continue this conversation another time. Now do as you’re told”

Tony was out at work the next day, so Peter spent a considerable portion of the morning trying to hack the keypad on the lab door, most unsuccessfully. He was forced to give up when Loki caught him at it. After that, he spent the rest of the morning moving all of the pictures and ornaments in the living room around to annoy Loki. He had to stop that when Loki called him into the kitchen and shoved a plate of egg and chips under his nose. After lunch, he infiltrated the reading nook and stayed there for the entire afternoon.

Tony gave Peter’s nose a tweak.

“I need to talk to you”

He didn’t look angry, which was a little confusing for Peter. He lowered his book and looked up at Tony.

“Have you been behaving yourself today?”

“Of course not”

Tony laughed. “Anyway, I wanted to say, about Friday night”

“Oh?”

“You’re coming with us to that party”

“What?!” Peter exclaimed, scrambling into an upright position. “Why?!”

“Because I said so. I don’t want you here on your own when you’re still so fragile”

“Ok, firstly, bit presumptuous. Secondly, why can’t uncle Thor look after me?”

“Peter, no arguing, please”

The door opened, and Loki came in, pushing his sleeves up.

“I’ve just spent the last half an hour or so putting all of our pictures and statues back in the right places. So that’s half an hour of my life I won’t get back” Loki said. “I should be putting you over my knee purely for wasting my time”

Peter rolled his eyes at him. “Well, I haven’t got anything else to do. I was just entertaining myself, like you told me too”

“No need to get cheeky. Anyway, I need to go out and buy some milk. Do you want to come with me?”

“We had a full bottle this morning” Tony said.

“I dropped it” Loki said. “Barely saved a glass. Ended up having to do the kitchen floor a second time because of it. Peter? Coming?”

Peter nodded and stood up. “I’ll get my shoes”

While Peter was in his room, he picked up his phone and texted Malaki.

‘Are you free tomorrow? Can we meet up? Around 10.30?’

Malaki very soon texted back.

‘Of course! See you in the grounds of that country house down the road from school? xx’

‘I’ll meet you by the lion statue. See you tomorrow x’

‘Can’t wait! xxx’

Peter grinned and hugged his phone to his chest. He’d get out of here tomorrow, no matter what.

Peter had one of those very nice family evenings, heavily aided by the nice early evening walk down to the corner shop with Loki. He went to bed early, and woke up early. Tony was working from home, and was already down in the lab, meaning he was very much out of the way. Peter was up and dressed and ready. He had a hoodie with big pockets on so he could hide a small whiteboard on him, and fit his phone and wallet in his other pockets. Loki was going to the hospital today, so Peter hung around him, acting cute and chatty and joking around with him. Loki laughed and humoured the boy, and quite enjoyed his company while he was getting ready.

Peter knew there was a loophole to the seal. He could get through the barrier if he was holding onto Tony or Loki. Tony was, of course, working from home, so he was a no-go. Loki was going out though, and Peter had a plan that meant he could bypass the barrier, wait for Loki to leave, and then slip away to see Malaki.

Loki gave Peter’s hand a squeeze as they walked downstairs.

“Have you been in my cabinet, little boy?” he smiled. “You’re all giddy and silly today”

“Do you really have to go? Can’t you stay home?”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart: I’m committed. I’ll be back this evening. We can spend some time together then” Loki said.

Peter pouted for a moment, and then smiled as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

“I’ll wave you goodbye! Like they do in the books!”

Loki laughed. “You’re a funny kid, you know that?”

“I know”

Loki opened the front door, and Peter, still holding his hand, bounced out onto the front step, pulling the door to. Loki gave him a funny look.

“Now now, chick, you need to get back inside. Rest”

“I will, I will. I’ve gotta wave goodbye first, haven’t I?”

Loki smiled, glancing over his shoulder as a car drew up.

“That’s my lift. I’d really better be off, sweetheart”

“Hug first!” Peter grinned.

Loki gave him a big hug, kissing his cheek. “I love you”

“Love you too, daddy”

Loki kissed his other cheek and straightened up. “I can’t leave the cabbie waiting. Go on, in”

“Still gotta wave you off”

Loki kissed his nose, gave him a final squeeze, went down the front steps and climbed into the cab. Peter stayed on the top step, one hand on the front door handle, and waved as the cab drove off.

As soon as the cab was out of sight, Peter let his smile drop, and he pulled the front door shut properly. Truth be told, he was surprised his plan had worked. He had his suspicions that Loki might have an inkling of what he was up to, but that was a problem for this evenings Peter.

Peter double checked his pockets, zipped up his hoodie, and hopped down the steps. He grinned to himself as he trotted down the street. It felt so good to be out on his own.

Malaki gave Peter a hug when he saw him.

“I’m glad you’re doing ok! I was so worried when you told me you’d had an accident. I can tell you’re still a bit sore”

Peter shrugged, and nodded.

“Are you sure you’re warm enough? Well, never mind. You can always borrow my jacket if you need to” he said. “So. Shall we?”

Peter smiled and took the offered hand. He sighed happily, glad he’d slipped out, and quite proud of himself too.

Liz stopped, and her friend did too.

“Liz?”

“That’s Peter Parker, isn’t it?”

The friend saw where Liz was looking. There was a bench over the other side of the courtyard, up against the wall of the house. Peter and a boy Liz didn’t recognise were sat together. Close together. They didn’t notice anyone else was there. The friend sighed.

“Yeah, so? No one really knows him anymore at Midtown. Ever since that gas main burst, the only thing we know is he’s a Stark now. A change of status doesn’t stop him being a loser”

“Don’t say that! He was sweet”

“Didn’t he ditch you at the dance?” the friend glanced back over at the bench. “Oh. I think we know why he did that, now”

Liz looked at her quizzically, and then looked back over at the bench. Peter was still there - but was now lip locked with the other boy. It was the last thing Liz expected to see, and she couldn’t help staring - just for a moment. Even at the distance she could see how the boy was holding him. There was no hiding what that sort of kiss meant.

“Hey, Liz, let’s go and get something to eat. I’m starving here”

Liz tore her eyes away and looked at her friend. She nodded. As they turned and started walking back in the direction they came, Liz looked at her friend.

“I don’t suppose you know how I can get in touch with him?”

“What? Liz, I think you’re wasting your time. He’s a private school kid now” she said, shaking her head. “That fat boy he was friends with probably has a number for him. Try him”

Liz nodded. “I will”

She looked back over her shoulder. The bench was far behind them now, long out of sight, but she could still clearly see Peter and that boy, in her minds eye.

#my writing #fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #frostiron #irondad and spiderson #BITCH idk wtf I'm doing #idk what this is

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hekate1308 · 6 years

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Like Fathers, Like Son

A while ago, I made a post that said Dean and Crowley looked like a set of angry parents in a scene, and I wrote an AU version of that, but @thayerkerbasy, @wheresurmoose and @sent-by-hael seemed to wish for a canon version, so here goes. This is basically crack. Enjoy!

“This time, I am going to gank you for real“ Dean hissed through gritted teeth.

“Keep it down, Squirrel, would you? I hardly imagine Mr. and Mrs. Albert would like to hear one of the spouses they have invited to “clear the air” threatening the other one.”

“This is all your fault.”

“I fail to see how.”

“According to Roderick, you were the one to teach him one should always honour one’s deals –“

“One should” Crowley said firmly.

Dean rolled his eyes. “And because of that, your son thought it was alright to humiliate the boy in front of the whole school – “

“He’s my son now? Are you trying to make me a single parent again?”

Dean sighed. There were days where he thought there had been some logical reasoning behind his decision to marry the King of Hell and have a child with him... and others when he realized that this had, indeed, been the worst idea of his life.

Today was decidedly one of the latter.

“I do admit I am impressed that he managed to make every screen in school show it when the bucket of fake blood dropped on him and he screamed in panic” Crowley drawled.

“Please tell me you didn’t tell him that.”

A pause.

“Oh God, do you know how I’m going to look in his eyes when I tell him he can’t do that now?”

“You have to admit, for a seven-year-old it was a rather elaborate scheme –“

“That’s not helping!” The only reason Dean managed not to shout was that Mr. And Mrs. Albert were getting them snacks and he and Crowley were sitting in their utterly mundane living room. “We are raising a child not the next King of the crossroads.”

“Technically, he’s first in line to the throne –“

“Not that again!”

“I distinctly recall you liking it when I force demons to call you Prince –“

“Crowley, can we talk about this at home? Right now we have to look like a normal suburban couple.”

Crowley huffed. “God knows what exactly is it that makes suburbia so tempting to those people. Look at that carpet.”

“We don’t all have your money.”

“Our money, and again, I don’t recall you complaining about it before –“

“I’m not complaining. I just want our child to grow up a good man –“

“Dean, there is no doubt in my mind he will.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because he has you for a father.”

And once again, Dean felt his anger melting away because Crowley was being sweet. “Damn you” he muttered.

Crowley took his hand and kissed it. “Don’t worry, darling; everything will be fine.”

“That’s easy for you to say” he muttered.

“Yes it is because if this gets too much, I can simply –“

“Don’t ruin the moment. Again.”

Crowley looked at him, the picture of innocence. Dean almost laughed but managed to stay serious.

Mr. and Mrs. Albert returned with the snacks.

“Now, Mr. and Mr. Winchester” Mrs. Albert began, “We do understand that this happened because John asked Roderick to do his homework, and then declined to pay him in candy. We have talked to him about it, and we will see to it that something like this doesn’t happen again. But still, we can’t help but feel that Roderick’s revenge for a better word was a little... a little...” she trailed off.

“Vindictive?” Crowley suggested, a gleam in his eyes.

Really, Dean couldn’t take his husband anywhere.

“Yes” she said.

“You see –“ Crowley began but Dean interrupted him before he could say something they would both regret.

“We have talked to him about it, and trust me, we will again” he said, glaring at his husband, “And he will understand that he is not to play such pranks on his classmates.”

The Alberts didn’t relax. “We’re glad to hear it” Mr. Albert said, “but at the same time I have to admit – that is we have to say –“

“John says Roderick tells all kinds of stories, stories that scare the other children” Mrs. Albert said determinedly.

Dean sighed. Dear God, what now? “What do you mean by that?”

“As a matter of fact, we were slightly concerned –“ Mr. Albert glanced at Crowley “You see, Roderick was adamant that his father was the King of Hell, and that the demons had to obey him. I understand that every child has his or her fantasies, but that seems a little dark to me.”

“Oh yes” Dean said quickly, “He loves inventing stories like that. The other day he made up that one where I was saving a bus like in the movie Speed –“

“Still. He also said that if the other kids were mean to him, and I quote, “My Father is going to send our hell hound after you.”

“I wouldn’t call Juliet a hell hound” Crowley said, turning to Dean, “She’s a sweetheart, wouldn’t you agree, darling.”

That bastard. Dean was definitely going to kill him this time.

“Juliet is a very nice dog” he pressed out, well aware that when they returned to the bunker, she would already have slept in their bed again.

“So you see, it’s just make-believe” Crowley continued pleasantly.

“That may be, but it’s not very normal make-believe, is it” Mrs. Albert said.

“Isn’t that the point of inventing stories? To get away from then normalcy of everyday life?” Crowley asked.

Damn, he could be smooth when he wanted to be. Small wonder Dean had eventually caved when he had kept proposing marriage.

And then adoption.

“But don’t you think insisting he’s the spawn of Satan is a bit –“

“He didn’t say Satan, he said King of Hell” Crowley pointed out, actually looking slightly offended that anyone would compare him to Lucifer.

This was going great.

“What’s the difference?” Mr. Albert asked indignantly.

“Well, the devil –“

“Crowley” Dean said as calmly as he could.

“And that’s another thing” Mr. Albert said, “What kind of name is Crowley?”

Bad idea. Extremely bad idea. Crowley was rather fond of the name he had picked for himself – even though he had taken on the last name Winchester once they had been married, much to the dismay of his subjects.

“It’s my name. I don’t see how there is anything weird about it.”

“You don’t? It’s freaking strange, that what it is –“

“James –“ Mrs. Albert tried –

“Sorry, love, but I’m done with all these strange stories John comes home with every night. Demons! Ghosts! Ghostbusters!”

Dean doubted that Roderick had actually used that word. His son knew a hunter when he saw one, and the Ghostbusters had always struck them as amateurs.

“I think” Crowley said slowly, “You should calm down.”

Dean laid his hand on his thigh and squeezed, hoping to calm him down.

Sadly, the movement only seemed to egg Mr. Albert on. “What I am trying to say is, if you freaks have to have children, can’t you –“

“If you just truly called my husband a freak, I suggest you take it back right now” Crowley said, still eerily calm, but Dean knew what would follow if Mr. Albert didn’t do the smart thing and apologize.

He hadn’t been bothered when people called him freak for a long time now. There were some things you had to accept if you married a demon, and being a freak was one opf them.

As long as it got him such spectacular sex as they’d had last night, he didn’t mind one bit.

“Why should I take it back? Look what you’re doing to your son! I’m tempted to call the authorities so he can get help, far away from you crazy –“

Both he and Mrs. Albert were pinned against the nearest wall. Dean sighed. “Really?”

“Sorry, darling” Crowley kissed his hand again, “You know how I get.”

“Don’t I just” he breathed. “Just make it quick, okay?”

“Don’t worry about it” Crowley said, kissing him.

He stood up and advanced towards the Alberts, slowly showing his demon eyes. “Let me make one thing perfectly clear. You are not to call either my husband or our son “freaks”. Me? I couldn’t care less what you call me, although I would appreciate it if you could use my titole, so “Your Majesty” it is, if you ever have the misfortune to run into me again.”

He studied their faces, enjoying their terrified expressions. “So here is what’s going to happen. Your son will never bother ours again. Roderick certainly won’t do the homework of anyone who doesn’t keep up their part of the deal. In fact, John won’t speak to Roderick at all unless Roderick speaks to him first. And if he makes any attempt to retaliate... Remember, I know where you live, and Juliet can indeed be a hell hound when she is in a mood...”

He waved his right hand and they slid down on the floor. “Now. Did I make myself clear?”

When they didn’t answer, he repeated the question. Eventually Mrs. Albert managed to squeak affirmatively.

Crowley nodded. “Your wife is definitely cleverer than you, Mr. Albert. I would listen to her in the future. Let’s go, Squirrel.”

And with a snap of his fingers, they were in their bedroom.

“You – you – “ Dean cleared his throat. “You’re lucky that was damn hot.”

Crowley grinned.

“Don’t give me that look, mister.”

“What look?” Crowley asked innocently, looping his fingers around the belt loops in Dean’s jeans and pulling him towards him.

He didn’t really resist.

Two hours later, Sam knocked on the door. “Are you done yet? I think I have been looking after your kid while you’re having sex long enough!”

He’d woken Dean up from a nap, and he hid his face in Crowley’s shoulder and groaned.

“Guys –“

“We’re coming, bitch. And thanks for babysitting.”

“Any time, jerk.”

“Guess we have to go and be responsible parents now” Dean sighed.

“Why? I handled it.”

“That may be, but Roderick can’t run around telling the kids the truth. Eventually someone will notice.”

“I guess you’re right” Crowley conceded.

“And nothing” Dean said firmly “Of that “good prank!” stuff, do you hear?”

Crowley sighed.

Roderick was reading Treasure Island in the library. Dean couldn’t help but smile proudly. Their kidn was smart.

“Hey, squirt” he said, ruffling his hair.

“Hello, Dad. Father.”

“We just came back from a meeting with Mr. and Mrs. Albert –“

“Uncle Sam said you came back two hours ago, but were taking a nap” Roderick pointed out, “Although I don’t get it because Father doesn’t need to sleep –“

“My point is” Dean ahsteend to say, “We spoke to John’s parents.”

“He should have just given me the candy” Roderick complained. “A deal’s a deal, Father said.”

“That’s right” Crowley agreed proudly and Dean shot him an angry look.

“I might agree with that” he said carefully, “But here’s the thing. Seeing how important it is that you keep your deals, you should be very careful which deals you decide to make in the first place.”

“But you wouldn’t let me have any more candy the other day” Roderick grumbled and Dean sighed.

“That’s because I want you to be healthy. Don’t you trtust me to know what is best for you?”

Roderick’s face lit up. “that’s true, Father said the same thing.”

“See? So no more light deals with your classmates. Promise?”

Roderick frowned but said “I promise.”

“And also – Roderick I know you’re proud of what we do, but please use the cover stories we gave you.”

“But talking about teachers and businessmen is boring!” he whined.

“He definitely gets that from you” Dean told Crowley before saying, “Yes, but we all need to be safe, you understand that, right?”

“I guess.”

It was as good a reassurance as he was going to get.

Two days later, Roderick told them, “John changed schools” during dinner and Crowley looked entirely too satisfied for Dean’s liking.

Someone was about to get punished tonight, that was for sure.

The fun way, of course.

#my writings #drowley #dean winchester #crowley #crack #forever my king

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sarahburness · 7 years

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9 Things Grateful People Believe

*This post was originally published in 2015. This was around the time I decided to create my newly launched gratitude journal, so it seemed fitting to share it again today!

“Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more.” ~Melody Beattie

My title was a little misleading, at least based on my personal beliefs.

I don’t believe the world fits neatly into some massive yin yang with grateful people on one side and ungrateful people on the other; but rather, we all go through times when we feel high and low degrees of gratitude, and that’s only human nature.

It’s okay to feel angry, despondent, and disappointed. It’s okay to wish things were different—that we were healthier, or happier, or generally less lost in the world.

There’s nothing evolved about ignoring reality or repressing our emotions. But there’s a difference between embracing our feelings and stewing in them.

It might not be possible to be feel grateful all the time, but it is possible to be grateful more often than not.

The opposite was true for me for years, but I’ve shifted my ratio of grateful to ungrateful moments by adopting and reinforcing the following beliefs.

1. Everyone has something to teach or offer me.

That person who cut you off in traffic—she’s likely not a selfish jerk, but rather someone who’s having a stressful day and rushing. Annoying, yes, but thankfully this is an opportunity to practice patience.

That person who broke your heart—he’s likely not a sadistic bastard who took pleasure in your pain, but rather someone who was human and hurting, just like you, and did the best he could. Distressing, yes, but thankfully this taught you a great deal about yourself and what a healthy relationship entails.

This mindset was difficult for me to adopt. For a long time I felt convinced that some people were beyond understanding. And, I thought, like Miley Cyrus, some of them came into my life like a wrecking ball and provided absolutely no value.

I now see that I’ve learned something from every broken heart, broken hope, and broken promise. It’s all helped me become a stronger, wiser, more compassionate person, and the same is true for anyone who chooses to see it that way.

2. There’s something valuable in every challenge.

Just like every person can offer us something valuable, every challenge can contain an opportunity as well.

To be clear, I don’t think we need to see everything as a blessing in disguise. In her book Bright-Sided, author Barbara Ehrenreich shared her resentment for the implication she should see her cancer as a gift. I understand why she felt that way.

This goes back to what I wrote in the beginning—there’s nothing worthwhile about pretending we’re not shocked, saddened, and disappointed by the hardships that come our way. It doesn’t benefit anyone to ignore our natural feelings in the face of trauma and tragedy.

But it is possible to acknowledge that, while some things just plain suck, good things can come from them.

When my grandmother passed away several years back, we all wished we had more time with her. But that began a new tradition for my extended family. Once a week, on the day when my mother previously took my grandmother out to dinner, my aunt, uncle, cousins, parents, and siblings get together for “family night.”

It was a tradition born from tragedy, but one that’s brought everyone closer.

On the other side of loss there’s an opportunity for gain, if we’re willing to seek or create it.

3. Even if I don’t have what I want, I’m fortunate to have what I need.

Very few people have everything they want. True, some may have a lot more than others, but the vast majority of us have hopes that have yet to be fulfilled.

We have dreams, and goals, and ambitions. We want things and experiences and opportunities. We want to be a little richer, for life to feel a little fuller, and to generally get the sense that we’re moving forward, not backward.

Still, amid all the ups and downs and highs and lows, many of us have everything we need, or at least most of it. We have somewhere to live, food to eat, people to turn to, and the ability to pursue whatever it is we’d like to achieve in life.

Those things are not givens. Many people—and you may be one of them—do not have their basic needs met.

I didn’t always appreciate this, because it didn’t seem to make my challenges any easier. But if I didn’t have those needs met, my challenges would certainly be harder.

4. The “little things” are the big things.

If you keep a gratitude journal, you’ve likely recognized just how many touching, fortunate, or fun little things happen every day.

Recently I’ve listed the following in my gratitude journal:

My new adult coloring books, which provide stress-relief and joy

Getting to see the Christmas tree lighting at The Grove with my fiancé and an old friend (it happened before Thanksgiving—which annoys some people, I know, but not me!)

Realizing the new season of Arrow started, and there were five episodes to watch

Taking a hot bath with a mindless (okay, trashy) magazine

Getting a cheap but awesome burrito for lunch

Anticipating a fun family visit for Thanksgiving

The smell of meatballs cooking in my parents’ kitchen

It’s not every day we get a new job, marry the love our life, or bring a child or passion project into the world. Most smiles in life stem from little things, appreciated.

5. I don’t have to have it all or do it all to be happy.

In the US especially, many of us hold the belief that we need to do it all, have it all, and be it all. We can’t miss out. We can’t fall short. We have to keep up, and keep accumulating.

Sure, it’s nice to cross an experience off our life to-do list, and we all love when we’re able to provide ourselves with something that’s caught our eye.

But grateful people realize that happiness comes from accepting and appreciating what is—and knowing that even if we never have or do more, we can live a full and fabulous life.

This doesn’t mean we need to forsake all our goals and desires and grow stagnant. Though I love the movie It’s a Wonderful Life, as I wrote previously, I don’t believe we need to sacrifice all our wants and dreams to be good people.

I do believe, however, there’s something to be said for putting in the effort, surrendering to the outcome, and recognizing that whatever happens, life can be beautiful.

6. Everyone’s blessings are different, and that’s okay.

When you’re caught up in that race to do more and be more, it’s all too easy to look around at who seems to be “ahead” and feel resentful. Grateful people realize that life isn’t a competition, and there’s no such thing as “behind.”

We’re all different people; we all have different talents, interests, priorities, and values; and we’re all on our own path.

What’s meaningful to me might not be meaningful to you. What’s valuable to me might not be valuable to you.

You might feel blessed to have four healthy kids. I feel blessed to be getting a fish tank soon. You might feel blessed to have just bought a new home in the country. I feel blessed to live in a vibrant apartment community in a city.

And you may have things I wish I had (I actually wouldn’t mind a healthy kid or two), but there may be things I have that you want. And that’s totally okay.

We’re all fortunate in our own way, for different reasons. All that really matters is that we recognize, focus on, and appreciate our own.

7. Things can—and will—change.

Every now and then, I look deeply at someone I love and remind myself that they won’t always be here. And I won’t be either.

It sounds morbid, I know, and it sometimes chokes me up to think about it. But recognizing that nothing and no one will be around forever makes it so much easier to focus on the good things and appreciate what we have.

And this doesn’t just apply to people. It’s not a given that any of us will do the same job until we retire, or that we’ll make the same salary, or that we’ll have the health we have now to enjoy the same hobbies.

Try as we may to insure things won’t change—with contracts, and policies, and commitments—things can, and will, change. Nothing nurtures a grateful heart like recognizing this, and acting like it.

8. It could always be worse.

Yes, it’s a cliché, and not something we want to hear when we’re going through a hard time.

I recently found an anonymous quote that reads, “Saying someone can’t be sad because someone else may have it worse is like saying someone can’t be happy because someone else may have it better.”

Knowing that it could be worse does not have to mean denying our feelings. But it does put things in perspective and make it easier to move through them.

After losing both of his legs, my grandfather could have been bitter. Clearly, many people had it “better” than him—they could walk. But he still had his sense of humor, his values, and the people he loved, and that was all he needed.

9. Life itself is a gift.

We live in a world full of teachers—both people and experiences—that enable us to learn, grow, and continually evolve into the people we want to be.

We have many, if not all, of our basic needs met, providing a foundation that allows us to comfortably enjoy life’s abundant simple pleasures.

We may not have it all, or the same things other people have, but we each have countless things, people, and opportunities to appreciate and enjoy.

This moment will never come again, and there’s no guarantee the moments that follow will look anything like this. Knowing this somehow makes the present more precious—even if things aren’t perfect.

And that brings us to this final belief: life itself is a gift.

It isn’t always easy, or happy, but it’s one hell of a ride—and it wouldn’t be without the bumps and turns. At least, that’s what I believe, and because of this, I’m grateful.

What do you believe?

About Lori Deschene

Lori Deschene is the founder of Tiny Buddha and Recreate Your Life Story, an online course that helps you let go of the past and live a life you love. Her latest bookTiny Buddha's Gratitude Journal is available for pre-order now. For daily wisdom, follow Tiny Buddha on Twitter, Facebook & Instagram..

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