#it was also said by him that he has a photogenic kind of memory so i can imagine that also takes a big role in regards to keeping in informa

[missingjackklinehours]

when tomorrow comes 🌳

good gods i know it's ship day but this is solely a gen michael & lucifer & raphael & gabriel fic :')

Inspired by Sam & Dean's S.W & D.W carvings on Baby. Who's to say the Archangels weren't first in that idea?

Rating: G (Gen Archangels fic)

Special thank you to my beta!

Playlist & Fic available on AO3. (it's also under the cut, if you prefer that!)

Heaven's lush hills always seemed greener and livelier when all four archangels lay against them. A rarity the occasion was, a trivial shard of diamond in the cascading abyss. It always seemed that Heaven needed an archangel here, there, everywhere at once; It made familial bonding far more complicated than things used to be.

However, a special day plucked from each year never failed to offer the archangels plenty of time together. A day of thanks, a day where Heaven displayed gratitude for their eldest brothers—Michaelmas, the Feast of the Archangels.

Morning sun rays highlighted soft violets and dusk plums of aster flowers, a humble gift for the very firsts of their species. By nightfall, bright angel-made clusters of heat-producing hydrogen and helium littered the black sky in the name of each archangel. Fledglings flocked to watch the fiery protostars burn in the cosmos.

While Lucifer happily revelled in the praise, Michael hid his jittery hands by tucking them behind his back and flashed a polite, yet photogenic smile to his newest siblings. Raphael, seemingly indifferent to the holiday, remained by Michael's side, occasionally shooting their brother a subtly reassuring look. Jovial, yet also graciously wanting to include others, Gabriel mingled in the crowds with the fledglings to watch the protostars, enthusiastically explaining to Heaven's children how the young stars would eventually grow to become massive beacons in the night.

By the time the thick, yet routine night fog had clouded the view of the protostars, the flocks of angels had dissipated. It was their cue to leave; The archangel hideout awaited. Or, as Lucifer liked to call it: the Badass Lair.

The refreshing air genially accommodated them, the chilled wind carried their wings as they flew. There was always a sense of thrill around the Autumn Equinox, nearing Michaelmas—perhaps it was the comforting thought of familiarity, a high from nostalgia of sorts. Whatever the seed, it didn't matter; Focusing on the blossom of a sibling’s love and appreciation was much easier.

Raphael's garden always seemed to flourish increasingly with every rare gathering the four indulged in. Even midair, as they descended upon the immense greenery below, Michael had already begun to muse about how the banyan trees had expanded since his last visit. Raphael quietly, yet blithely soaked in the adoration from their archangelic brothers.

The softness of the grass, however, always remained the same. Lucifer was the first to land, being the quickest flier of the bunch. He cracked an astonished grin as he surveyed his younger sibling's growing garden, slightly pivoting to catch the vibrance of Raphael's indigo feathers amongst the blackness of the sky.

"Not bad, Raph!" The Morningstar loudly called out, adding more quietly with a snicker, "For a kid."

The thunderous sound of strong, flapping wings echoed behind him, prompting Lucifer's playful smirk to widen.

"I'm literally only four hundred years younger than you," Raphael's familiar voice remarked, and Lucifer turned once again to meet his sibling's deadpan expression.

"And despite the age difference, Raphael has created far better things than you have, brother," Michael offhandedly commented as he silently landed farther away from the pair. Lucifer's face contorted into a pout, and Raphael fought to contain their own appreciative smile at the eldest angel's words.

"Woooow, Mi! I'm hurt!" Lucifer faked offense.

The heavy fog of nightfall seemed to become almost pellucid at the very presence of Heaven's firsts. Peeks of sheer luminosity from the protostars of Michaelmas seeped from the impervious midnight clouds. Even the banyan trees seemed to lean into the comforting presence of archangelic grace.

Lucifer squinted into the elegant cloak of the night sky. "You think Gabe's gonna break his neck when he crashlands?"

Raphael turned their attention to the sky in search of the youngest archangel in question. "He's been getting better at landing. He'll do fine."

Lucifer hummed in response, brightening slightly when he caught sight of Gabriel nearing the garden. "Mn, doubt it. Wanna bet? Loser has to listen to Michael's fifty page manifesto on why ducklings are Pop's best creation."

Raphael blinked, looking over to Michael in bemusement. "Your-... your what?"

Michael's eyes darted to Lucifer to glare daggers at him, who only sniggered in response. A gust of wind washed over the trio, and frantic fluttering of golden wings broke Michael's glower. Beside him, Gabriel was close to landing—or rather, close to failing at landing. It was really more similar to falling, with his limbs flailing all about and eyes squeezed tightly shut in preparation for impact.

Michael sighed hopelessly at the sight, extending one of his grandiose fuschia wings low to catch his younger brother. Upon the soft sensation of Michael's velutinous feathers, Gabriel's eyes reopened in surprise.

"Hey, no fair! You interfered!” Lucifer huffed at Michael, who merely rolled his eyes and helped Gabriel to his feet.

“I almost made it, I was so close!” Gabriel whined, furrowing his brows as Michael thumbed a smudge of leftover party sweets that was stuck to his cheek.

“Next time, bug. You’ll get it next time,” Raphael reassured, and Gabriel’s grace seemed to relax at his older sibling’s encouragement.

Lucifer yawned, and the twinkle of the protostars above them began to reflect the dew on the grass. “M’kay, new bet. Last one to the tree has to listen to Michael’s manifesto.”

Gabriel perked up curiously and cocked his head at Michael. “What manifesto?”

Michael shook his head and stubbornly huffed. “I was two hundred years old, Lucifer. The duckling phase of my life is over.”

“Oh? So you’re saying ducklings aren’t the greatest living creatures?” Lucifer pried, exaggeratedly leaning his ear towards Michael to hear his response. Raphael and Gabriel eyed the two bickering brothers and exchanged amused glances.

Michael shifted uncomfortably in place in an attempt to keep in his passionate ramblings; He ultimately failed. “I never said that. Ducklings are the epitome of absolute goodness and commendable purity in the universe. The best traits of all of creation can be found in their small yet mighty little bodies. Not only do they bring togeth--”

“Blegh, no more lectures! Lulu, your bet’s on!” Gabriel groaned, spreading his sets of still-developing golden wings.

"'Atta boy," Lucifer impossibly brightened, his grin quickly returning. "On three! One... "

With one singular number down, Lucifer watched in incredulity as Gabriel mischievously laughed, a flash of golden feathers passing them all by. After the initial shock wore off, Lucifer briefly hummed, nodding in approval.

"Touché, little brother, touché," The Morningstar muttered to himself, before theatrically shrieking into the night, "YOU'RE DEAD MEAT, GABE!"

Gabriel's boisterous bursts of both elated and happily frightened screams in the distance elicited an endeared smile from all three of the older angels. With a whistling streak of vermillion wings, Lucifer chased after his youngest archangelic brother.

Michael and Raphael observed them in comfortable silence, the illumination from the protostars just bright enough to see the vivid colors of their wings against the midnight sky. As the breeze audibly raked through the trees, Raphael slightly swiveled to curiously peer at Michael.

"I'd actually like to hear about these ducklings," Raphael calmly stated, gesturing with their head towards the specific tree that Gabriel and Lucifer were headed for.

The blinding look of pleased excitement on Michael's face was enough to bring a smile to Raphael's lips.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

In contrast to the vivacious growth of much of Raphael's garden, the Badass Lair retained all of its youthful glory.

The haphazardly-built abomination of a fort from sticks and logs stood distinctly adjacent to the veiny streams of the garden. Across from it dwelled a meager hill of lush grass and florid lilac petals of asters—A place where Michael taught all three fledglings to fly, a place where Lucifer created his first defective star, a place where Gabriel grew the lavender flowers as a gift to Raphael. It was their safe haven, a site of alleviation and bliss.

In the center of both dear venues settled a special banyan tree— their banyan tree.

Against the smooth, grooving bark of their tree, Michael’s ginger fingertips almost seemed to purr. The swaying aerial roots that veiled the intricate trunk wavered joyously over his head, and in a sense, their tree looked overjoyed to see Michael. Behind him, Raphael sincerely watched at the way their older brother’s fingers reverently traced the markings on their tree.

“You know… it’s not just gonna disappear, Mi,” Raphael’s voice was soft, a kind whisper carried by the midnight wind. Michael’s hand never halted against the tree bark, marginally turning his head to look at Raphael with a sad smile.

“That’s true,” Michael’s gaze fell back to the etchings on their tree. “It just seems like it was yesterday when… You three have grown too fast.”

Raphael sympathetically tilted their head, stepping forward to place a soothing hand on Michael’s shoulder. Up close, the carvings on their tree stood out boldly, a beloved memory held close to all of their hearts.

Under the then-small aerial roots of their banyan tree, each fledgling archangel had carved their names into the young bark. Something to hold onto, Michael had stated, a bittersweetness as Heaven had first begun to flourish; The eldest had an inkling that duty would steal time spent together—And he was right.

Raphael could still make out the places where Michael had once helpfully guided Raphael’s shaky hand, the spelling mistake in Lucifer’s name, the heart that Gabriel had drawn after his name, and Michael’s near-perfect handwriting, even in carving-form.

“Lusifer?” Gabriel, who seemingly appeared out of nowhere, squinted as he approached the base of their tree. Both Michael and Raphael struggled to repress a thoughtful smile as Gabriel sounded it out again.

“That’s how my name should’ve been spelled!” Lucifer called out from above, and his siblings gazed upwards to catch him resting against an exposed branch. “Lucifer with a c… ridiculous! Looks like luck-i-fer.”

Michael’s rapture remained as he lightly shook his head. “Brother, you are just stating this because you lack efficiency in spelling.”

Lucifer playfully stuck his tongue out at his older brother. Michael scoffed in good nature, and Gabriel giggled at the sight. Raphael’s attention wandered outwards to the perched hill, a peaceful silence enveloping the archangelic siblings.

The argent light from the protostars shone divinely upon the lucid green and lilac of the hill, an invitation of sorts. The sifting breeze was cool, a grateful lullaby to its archangelic inhabitants. The night was the epitome of perfection, though not because of nature—rather, because of the familial love that radiated energetically from each of their graces. A comforting peace, a cherished silence of nostalgia lingered between the four… until Gabriel’s reticent, yet hopeful voice proposed a profound request.

“I wanna stay with you all forever,” His voice was dreary, a sweet innocence embedded into his tone. It prompted all eyes to shift to him. “Let’s stay together no matter what, okay?”

A beat of tranquility followed, their banyan tree leaned in to listen. Michael was the first to react, tugging Gabriel into a tight hug, a sentiment that few were blessed upon. Gabriel’s toothy beam was evident in his quiet giggles as Michael held him close, before the eldest pulled back with a gentle smile of his own.

“Of course,” Michael assured, crystal emotion brimming in his eyes.

A rapid flash of vermillion flared from the top of the tree, and both Gabriel and Michael’s squeaks of surprise induced a jump from Raphael. Lucifer, who had quite literally deliberately plummeted from the tree, now held both of his brothers in a deathgrip hug, a wide grin across his face.

“You’re a real dumbass if you think you’ll ever be able to get rid of me,” Lucifer sniggered lovingly, and Gabriel leaned into his brother’s embrace. Michael lightly elbowed Lucifer for the profanity, yet his delighted simper lingered on his face.

Raphael shuffled closer, eyeing their brothers with absolute admiration. Their hand moved to lightly ruffle Gabriel’s hair, who turned his cheery beam to his sibling. Raphael’s brothers observed them with a giddy sense of euphoria, the aura resonating a promising hopefulness in anticipation for their response.

“Without a doubt.”

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.16}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 5.3k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

"May I ask you something you might find rather odd?"

"Don't you always?" Robin chuckled softly. "You can ask and say anything at all, you know that. Odd isn't a thing between us anymore."

"Why does your hair smell so insufferably much like pineapple? You don't even like pineapples."

For a broken second, Robin was so surprised by the indeed quite unexpected question that she didn't react at all, then however she had to snort and finally just started laughing. Gods, what a question… whether he had meant to take the edge off the situation or not, his inquiry certainly had done just that. In a sudden mutual agreement that it might be better to let go of each other –better for whom, one might ask– they both removed their tight hold from the other and Robin took a tiny step backwards. Not enough to call it an appropriate distance, really, but enough to look at each other's faces again.

"I, uh…" She started, once she had more or less stopped laughing, and finally folded the letter and the permit back into the envelope. "I haven't really had the money to buy new shampoo after I'd run out, so I first borrowed from Jorien for half a month, and now ever since the beginning of October I've been borrowing from Cas, who unfortunately loves pineapples. That's why I smell like one currently."

"I see… Curious how I haven't noticed it before."

"Well, we don't really… get that close to each other so often." Robin shrugged, trying to suppress the sad subtones that wanted to sneak into the statement, and instead acted over it by removing her wand from the tousled damp mess on her head, now that she remembered that her hair still would have to dry at some point indeed. "And I literally just took a shower before coming here, so that should make the smell even more prominent as well. Sorry…"

"Not for that. But say, do I even want to know why you decided to take a shower in the middle of the night? On your birthday?"

"Cas smeared some sticky goo onto my face and it was really itchy and got stuck in my hair…" She rolled her eyes at the memory, and upon his questioning and slightly horrified expression, she snorted but went to explain. "It was just some kind of face mask, nothing gross! Well, actually, it was pretty vile, all pink and smelling horribly sweet, even worse than the pineapple!"

"Sounds like your evening with your roommates went exactly as expected."

"Well, part of it at least. At first we had tea and cake, which I very much enjoyed actually. They told me about the incident in class as well, even though they thought it was hilarious rather than annoying. But then I became subject to their idea of a girls' night, and that meant sticky goo and painted nails." Robin held up her hands with a humoured sigh to demonstrate Jorien's work. It actually looked quite good, or at least it had, before Robin had already chipped one nail in the shower. She couldn't bring herself to care enough to fix it though. "Then they tried to get me to talk about boys, which was the point where I shut down."

"I can imagine."

"They got me a lovely gift though; a framed photograph of the entire group. The girls and I, and Simon, Gideon and Michael. All sitting together in the great hall." Robin smiled, still very much happy about the picture. "There's so few photos of me and the people I care about. Honestly, I only have the conference photos from last year and the year prior, and either has about fifty strangers in it, but only one has you."

"Good. I doubt that I'm particularly photogenic."

"Neither am I, but I like looking at the picture nonetheless."

"You always were the most photogenic person in the entire newspaper. All three years of conferences."

"Thanks." Robin laughed, once again quite glad that it was too dark for him to really see her blushing. "Remind me to show you the horrible pictures of me as a toddler some time… You'll change your mind about me being photogenic then."

"Don't bet on it."

"Alright, I won't." Her smile turned warmer, less amused and more heartfelt. "But I'm still happy to have one more picture of the people I care about now."

"You should be. It is a nice gift indeed. An actual gift."

"Oh will you stop it now!" Robin rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, then couldn't help smiling up at him nonetheless. "I think your gift IS an actual gift! A perfect one! But if you just keep refusing to believe it, might I make a suggestion?"

"Don't you always?" He raised an eyebrow as he quoted her own words back to her with a not-smirk. "Go ahead."

"Go to Hogsmeade with me on Saturday. I know you're not overly fond of being there while the students are roaming around, but you could consider it a gift to me, if the incredible one you've already given me just won't count for you. Which I still don't understand, by the way." She suggested, then went on with a small smirk. "I'm sure I can sell some stuff to the guy in that ingredients shop you sent me to forever ago."

"I will have to see it to believe it. Saturday it is." He replied and the corners of his lips quirked up more and more. "The man you're speaking of is a sleazy individual, ripping people off wherever he can, and getting him to pay a decent price will be practically impossible. But I will enjoy seeing you try."

"I can get him to pay any price you name." Robin teased with a nonchalant shrug. "I don't know what prices to set anyway, nor what the different objects are worth in theory. Just give me a number I can tell him, and you'll see me getting him to pay it."

"I sincerely doubt that."

"Wanna bet?" She quirked an eyebrow at him, smirking openly with just a tad of mischief in her tone. There was no way she would lose this, she was certain of that. "If you deem me so unconvincing, you should have nothing to lose."

"If you insist. What stakes shall we set?"

"Loser buys the winner a drink afterwards, how about that? We should both be able to afford that much at that point."

"Agreed. It should make for an interesting Saturday either way." Snape seemed to be entirely amused by the idea at this point, and Robin wondered if he was actually serious about doubting her in the first place. He did know better than to question her abilities, especially those she actually believed in herself, and somehow she had the feeling that agreeing to this bet was his way of encouraging her to do her best on Saturday. But he might also just be wanting to buy her a drink. The thought made Robin grin even more, and she decided that she was fine with either version.

"I hope I'll make it to Saturday in the first place…" She said then, remembering that it was only Friday now, roughly around two in the morning. "The girls have made some plans for my birthday, but after this evening, I'm not sure if I will survive any more of their ideas."

"To your luck, they will be busy with classes for most of the day, much like myself unfortunately. Are you going to be assisting Pomona with the second years again?"

"Yeah, it's the only thing I have to do. It's fun, actually, when the students aren't being idiots. Gonna be an easy day."

"Perhaps you should go to bed now nonetheless. As much as I would like to sit down now and keep you here until morning, you certainly would be better off with some sleep before your roommates drag you into whatever schemes they have set up for the morning."

"Yeah… I should go." Robin sighed, and this time she didn't even bother trying to hide her sadness about the fact. "Don't forget about the salt thing though, yes? And please tell McGonagall; even if just for the sake of helping me keep my promise."

"I will." He replied as he followed Robin to the door, keeping his eyes on her as she stepped out into the hallway. "If your roommates haven't already claimed every single minute of your day by then, perhaps we could take a walk in the afternoon."

"I would like that very much." Robin smiled up at him too happily, in too much excitement, but she couldn't bring herself to care. He already knew that she loved spending time with him; he just didn't know all of the reasons. "But for now, goodnight."

"Get out of my sight already."

"As you wish." She grinned at his feigned annoyance and not-smirk, then made her way down the hallway and back towards her room, clutching her wand in one hand and the letter in the other. Surprisingly enough, this had been a great start to her birthday after all.

When she lay in bed a little while later, she could still feel the shadow of his touch along her spine, the brush of his fingertips on her sides, and it took her a while to fall asleep like that, when part of her mind wouldn't shut up and instead kept on wondering what it would've felt like without all the fabric in between his skin and her own.

… … …

Morning, as always, came way too soon, and Robin was woken up by two overly excited girls who then proceeded to dictate her every move. Luckily she could talk them out of painting her face this year, but they still put up her hair into an intricate braid before they finally made their way to breakfast while playing some kind of game Robin never quite understood the rules to in the first place. When they arrived in the great hall, they still were terribly early for once, as they sat down at the Ravenclaw table with the boys, who each proceeded to congratulate Robin as well, and she in return thanked them all, especially Simon for the idea with the picture.

Once the hall had filled up with students and staff alike –Robin took careful notice of the fact that McGonagall was once again sitting next to Snape, chatting away amicably while the latter looked indifferent as always– the beginning of the meal was announced, and the foods and drinks were sent up from the kitchens. The moment everyone had been waiting for had finally arrived, and when Robin looked around, she saw more excited faces than she dared to count. Obviously the news about the prank had made their rounds among the student body, and spread even beyond the Ravenclaw table. In the careful attempt not to be entirely obvious about it, Robin then observed Snape and McGonagall. Both of them went with coffee this morning, and if she wasn't mistaken, they both focused on their mugs a little too long before moving to drink at last. Neither of them pulled a face, nor did McGonagall falter in her one sided chat with the bored man next to her, which relieved Robin quite a bit. Once she looked over at Jorien, the girl mouthed a quiet 'thank you', to which Robin answered with a single subtle nod. Then both their attention was drawn back to the head table, when a happy coincidence decided that it should be Morgan who first made a show of spitting out his salted coffee in an indignant spout. A wave of giggles ran through the student body, and while more professors followed Morgan's example mere seconds later, the giggles turned into straight out laughter. McGonagall made an attempt to hide the fact that she had known in advance, going neatly along with the other professors' surprise and outrage, while Snape however merely let his eyes travel over the students in a menacing glare. When his eyes caught Robin's, however, his face brightened up ever so slightly with a not-smirk for a moment, then he continued his cold inspection of the tables and Robin turned back to her breakfast. Perhaps seeing Morgan spitting out his coffee had made her morning a little better after all, and knowing that Snape had succeeded to get McGonagall, out of all people, to play along with this scheme definitely made her both happy and proud.

The day then continued on quite as good as it had started. During the herbology class she helped with, Sprout not only congratulated her right away, but also gifted her a beautiful scalpel-like knife that was small in size, but sharper than Robin thought possible. The gesture honestly surprised her, but the herbology professor insisted that she couldn't continue watching Robin use that old rusty thing she had been using for both her in- and out-of-class work for the last two years. A little overwhelmed but very much grateful, Robin finally accepted the highly useful gift, and stored it in her pocket for now, just before first students filed into the greenhouse.

The next surprise came during lunch, when Robin found yet another wrapped gift waiting for her in her spot at the Ravenclaw table, where her small group of appreciated people was already awaiting her arrival. Upon Robin's inquiry about the package, they all shrugged and said it had just suddenly been there some time after they'd sat down. Her name was written on a piece of paper that was tugged into the wrapping, but she didn't quite recognise the handwriting. Odd… why were so many people giving her gifts for her birthday, all of a sudden? She appreciated it, of course, but it made her wonder nonetheless. Then, encouraged by her overly curious friends, Robin finally unwrapped the gift, only to reveal a small and desperately old looking book. 'The Unforgivable Curses: A detailed study'... The title alone made the hairs in Robin's neck stand up, while the small group of people around here was simply confused. Of course they understood the title, but they were just as clueless about who would give such a book to Robin as she herself was. There was no note, no letter, nothing but the slip of paper with her name on it, which she tugged in between the pages after briefly flipping through them in search for any more pleasant or unpleasant surprises. But it was just a book, a quite rare one if Robin wasn't entirely mistaken, and certainly not of the kind you would find in a school library. If anyone saw her with this, especially one of the professors, they might just think she was up to no good; thus Robin stored it away in her backpack, making sure to inspect it more thoroughly later today. Preferably together with Snape, he knew way more about these things than anyone else, and he appreciated a good mystery quite as much as she did.

After lunch, when Robin was just about to head to her room to pass the time and perhaps change into something warmer before Snape would be done with his classes for the day, she found herself stopped in her path, surprised yet again by something she hadn't quite expected. This time it was McGonagall who, after a quick glance down the hallway, first congratulated Robin, and then also thanked her for the indirect warning this morning. What surprised Robin however was when the professor took her hand, placed a small and surprisingly cold object in it, and then closed her fingers around it even before Robin could see what it was.

"You did not receive this from me, do you understand?" She asked with an intent look at Robin, who in return merely had the time to nod before the professor turned on her heels and was off down the hallway a second later.

Confused, Robin opened her hand again and her eyes fell onto a key that was now resting in her palm, heavy and cold and no less ancient than the book she had already received an hour earlier. What on earth was going on here that she was missing? What was this key for, in a school that –as far as Robin knew– locked all doors with magic anyway? And why was McGonagall so keen on keeping it a secret? Robin couldn't answer either question, but she hid the key in her locket anyway, to keep it safe until she knew what she was to do with it. Then she finally made for her room, with the intention to get some long overdue rest at last.

… … …

Shortly before four in the afternoon, Robin quietly let herself into Snape's office during the last minutes of the class he was teaching next door. She had indeed changed into something warm enough to be comfortable outside (for once!), and then thought it a nice idea to pick him up here to go for her promised walk. That at least would give them a good two hours before dinner, and thus enough time to actually get away from the castle for a little while. Content with her plan, Robin took her perch on the edge of the desk, not bothering to sit down properly for the little time she planned to stay here. It wasn't long indeed before the door between office and classroom flew open, and a very much annoyed Snape stormed into the room, throwing the door shut behind himself again without looking back. Still it took a few seconds for his eyes to find Robin's, but then he stopped in his track while the tension remained written all over his features.

"Don't." Was all he said in a deep and warning tone, and Robin knew very well what he meant, but she just couldn't help it. She had to smile, brightly and without any attempt to hide it, and he rolled his eyes in return, the tension fleeting, while he tried not to smile in return. "You are insufferable. Just let me be angry in peace."

"I'd rather not. Because I can't be happy when you're upset, so logically I will have to see to it that you're happy. For my own sake." She shrugged easily, and her eyes followed him as he moved to drop a stack of notebooks next to her on the desk. "And I'm here to claim what's been promised to me. Before you can find a way to get out of it."

"Whyever would I want to? Wasn't it I who asked for a moment of your precious time in the first place?" He raised his eyebrows at her for a second, then grabbed his warmer robes from the back of his chair. "I would hardly want to miss the narrow time frame I was given to spend with you."

"Oh come on, I'm not that busy! You're the one who had to teach all day… I've just been in my room ever since lunch."

"Napping, as it seems." He quipped, finally unable to keep the not-smirk off his face, and Robin felt called out immediately.

"How the hell do you know that again?"

"Your hair tells me all about it. Admittedly, the difference from lunch to now is very subtle, especially with the braid, but I know what you look like when you wake up. I've seen it before."

The blush that rose to Robin's face immediately was accompanied by a wave of tingles that were equally a result of his words and her own imagination. Yes, they had woken up in the same room before. But not together, in the way she would've liked. Not the time to think about that now.

"Well, you caught me." Robin finally replied, forcing away the previous string of thoughts. "I was napping because I didn't get a lot of sleep last night. I'm fine with little sleep, generally, but less than two hours isn't enough even for me. With the two herbology classes of the first and second years this morning, on top of two meals with the girls, I honestly just needed some rest."

"What kept you from getting a good night's sleep in the first place?" He asked in return, as they left the office and started making their way outside, unseen as always, through the many rooms and passages Robin found herself actually able to remember at this point. She had no idea how Snape even knew about all these shortcuts and secret paths in the castle, but she was glad to have learned about them too. Wandering around unseen was a lot easier like this.

"Oh, you know… just too many thoughts spinning in my mind." She shrugged, careful not to let slip that it had been thoughts about him that had kept her awake. Thoughts about them, together.

"I understand. Your visit also left me thinking for quite a while." He said, as they arrived at the foot of the hill, under the open grey sky at last. "I have come to the conclusion, for example, that you were right. My gift to you may be considered a gift indeed."

"Where did that change of mind come from?"

"I couldn't find an argument against yours. Giving someone a gift is an act of caring, and as you rightly so pointed out, caring extends way beyond the material. Thus a gift should be judged by the amount of care put into it, not its material worth."

"That's pretty much what I was trying to say last night, yes." Robin smiled up at him, doing her best not to trip over anything while they made their way towards their by now common favorite place outside the castle. The shoreline of the lake. "I received three more gifts today, even though I'm not so sure if the latter two go by our definition of 'gift' in that sense. The care as well as the message behind them are kinda, well, untranslatable to me. Anyway, I've been dying to tell you about it all day."

"I'm listening. And intrigued, seeing as once again you just have to build up suspense."

"Well, first there was Sprout." Robin started, in ignorance of his second comment, and pulled the delicately ornamented knife out of her robes, showing it to Snape with a smile. "I was quite surprised that she got me a gift at all, to be honest. We've gotten a bit closer through my assistance in her classes, but I didn't think she liked me enough to even remember my birthday, leave alone to get me anything."

"She gushes about you all the time actually, in the staff room, or during meals… It seems to be one of her favourite pastimes to tell everyone, especially me, about your brilliant work." Snape replied, then handed the knife back to Robin who slipped it back into her pocket. "I'm not surprised that she would give you a present such as this; she holds you in a higher regard than she does with most of her colleagues."

"I certainly appreciate it. The gift, and that she's obviously quite fond of me too. Especially since the other two items that were given to me today are way more confusing in their nature and their circumstances."

"I know you received a book during lunch. What was that about?"

"I haven't got even the slightest idea. Nobody knows who it's from or why it was given to me, and I was hoping you could help me solve this mystery." She said, and summoned the object in discussion from her bag, once again handing it to Snape. "There's a piece of paper inside with my name on it, perhaps the handwriting will tell you more."

He stopped walking once his eyes fell onto the title of the book, and he inspected it for a moment longer until he looked up at Robin once again, in sincere surprise. "I have heard of this book, but admittedly I believed it to be nothing more than a myth. It still might be a mere joke; we will have to find out about that."

"What's special about it? It probably contains a bit more information than we are taught here at school, but that can't be it, right?"

"Supposedly, it contains methods to resist all three of the unforgivable curses. I highly doubt that rumour however, for obvious reasons."

"Obvious to you, perhaps. Enlighten me."

"If there was a way you could cheat a curse that was banned by the ministry, wouldn't they have an interest in making that knowledge known and thereby eradicate the usefulness of such curses in the first place?"

"That definitely makes sense. But perhaps they also believe the book and thus the methods to be nothing more than a myth? Either way, I have this book now, and I have no idea who gave it to me."

"I could give you an answer to that even without looking at the handwriting." Snape scoffed, but opened the book and inspected the snippet of paper nonetheless. "Quite obviously, Professor Dumbledore has an interest in it that you become better acquainted with these curses. I don't have to tell you that this isn't a good sign."

"No…" Robin breathed in return, and if she was honest with herself, she could also have guessed by herself that it was the headmaster who had given the book to her. "If Dumbledore wants me to read this, I bloody better should. No matter what his intention behind it is."

"Indeed. I would ask him about it, but he hasn't been letting me in on anything of importance for a while now, and I doubt that he would give me an honest answer even if I tried. We are better off drawing our own conclusions from now on. May I read the book, once you have?"

"Obviously! It's really not much of a gift and more of a homework assignment the headmaster expects us both to do."

"An oddly fitting way to describe it. Tell me, if that was the second 'gift', what is the third?"

"Something I understand even less." She sighed, then fiddled the key out of her locket to hand it over too. "This was given to me without a comment, without context, and with the instruction to not reveal who gave it to me."

"That certainly-..."

"It was McGonagall." Robin shrugged with one shoulder, giving him a small smile which only widened as his brows furrowed in confusion. "I'm not keeping secrets from you, and she certainly knows that. But I have every intention to keep her involvement a secret from absolutely everyone else."

"If she was concerned about keeping it a secret in the first place, it likely means that Dumbledore doesn't know. This in return means that whatever his reason might be for not wanting you to have the key, it isn't to your advantage. But the key likely is."

"Why do you think so?"

"Dumbledore has long lost his conscience between the bigger picture and his own ambitions, but Minerva will do what she can to protect the innocent from any misfortune. And if said misfortune was caused or tolerated by the headmaster, I believe she will go against his wishes to act on her own conscience instead. Put differently, Dumbledore's concern lies with the school, and its place in the grand scheme of things. Minerva's concern lies with the learning and wellbeing of both students and staff."

"But… that would mean that Dumbledore is willingly letting something bad happen to me. And McGonagall is trying to protect me from it, even though Dumbledore doesn't want her to."

"So far my theory at least, but I have no proof of it other than both our past experiences. It certainly would make sense in the context of both her own words after the incident with Morgan on the first night of term, and also the fact that Dumbledore gave you the book now."

"Oh great…" Robin groaned under her breath and let herself fall back against the tree behind her. "What have I done that makes me everyone's favourite victim? First Morgan, now Dumbledore, and well… There's literally an entire school full of people to pick on! Why do they keep choosing me?"

"I have another question for you. Why does Minerva believe that an old key will help you against either of them?"

"Yes. Great! Thank you for making matters even more complicated." She rolled her eyes with a huff, but felt bad for it immediately. Time to be better than her emotions. "Sorry… that was really unfair. None of this is your fault."

"It's quite alright." He replied calmly and took the remaining two steps to stand in front of Robin, handing her the book and the key. "I can't say I'm not equally concerned about these developments."

"I just can't get rid of the feeling that it all comes down to Morgan somehow. If McGonagall is the proof of a connecting point, back on the day of the welcoming feast and today, it means that Dumbledore sees Morgan as he is, as a threat, but doesn't want to do anything about it. Not because he doesn't care about Morgan's actions, but because he has some grand scheme in mind where Morgan is a chess piece of yet unknown importance and I'm just a casualty he's willing to sacrifice for whatever greater cause. And McGonagall doesn't want that to happen, but she also can't tell me about it because he doesn't want her to. Does that even make any sense? This is a school and not some bloody thriller!" She scoffed as she returned the book to her bag and the key to her locket, then however didn't lean back against the tree. There was too much tension in her body, too much anxiety in her mind, and thus she simply looked up at Snape with an almost sad expression. "Honestly, what am I missing here? I just… I don't understand what's going on anymore."

"Right now, all that matters is that you are out here, with me. You are supposed to have an enjoyable birthday and not a mental breakdown over people who definitely do not deserve it." He said while lightly tracing the outside of her hand with one finger, and when the gesture made Robin smile instinctively, he took her hand entirely and gave it a gentle squeeze. "We will find answers to all the questions, given the right time and opportunity. You and me together, like always. Yes?"

"Yes." Robin sighed, and her smile broadened into a real one that captured the rest of her face as well. "Let's walk on then, shall we? You could tell me what the fifth years did that was so terribly annoying during your last class."

"The better question would be what they didn't do to annoy me. I cannot believe I have to get those dunderheads through their OWLs at the end of the year." He rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, and slowly let go of Robin's hand as they sauntered on, along the shoreline. Oh well… Robin was happy about the gesture nonetheless; as small and fleeting as it had been, it had been initiated entirely by him for once.

"You better start telling me then." She suggested, quirking an eyebrow at him with a smile. "If it's such a long list. What did they do wrong this time?"

"Would you like me to answer chronologically or alphabetically?"

_____________________________

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[streetsofsecrets]

@hammurabicomplex​   said  :  😭 pls do eve and franco for the kid meme. or any of our other ships!

Name: Her birth name is Anita Marie Lucchese. But upon adoption, her name is Anita Marie Scozzari.

Gender: Cis Woman

General Appearance: She has a face claim below, keep scrolling!

Personality: Right now I’m like, this girl is a Virgo. Self-sufficient, witty ( she had to learn how to clapback if she planned to survive as Cassandra’s sibling ) critical, and easily prone to tense and/or stressed states. As a teenager she compartmentalized to the max, but it didn’t subdue her angst or make her seem less cold. Like, her ‘indifference’ and bluntness towards certain situations could have Eve sometimes like 😰😰 She was also the only Scozzari kid that didn’t dabble with street life in any proximity. Like, she could hang out with Nick and Cass, she knew and spoke to their friends, but she never did what they did. Cass described her behavior as being a square, and she even had to teach her certain things like how to cheat on tests because that’s how much of a good kid she was. As a kid, she was inclined to snitch on Cassandra or even Nick if she felt irritated. Thankfully, her snitching habit subdued with age.

Special Talents: Photogenic memory.

Who they like better: She loves her mom just fine. Admittedly, her relationship with her biological father, Franco was difficult when she was younger, but things are better between them when she’s an adult. She also loves her adoptive father, Salvatore, the same amount she loves Franco. ( Although as a teen there would come times when she loved Sal more. Then Franco more. Then Sal more. )

Who they take after more: She’s introverted like both Franco and Eve are, so both of them.

Personal Head canon: Here’s a few headcanons.

Anita exists in a timeline where Eve, in her twenties, found out Sal was a gangster and decided to take her children (Nick and Cass) and get away from this shit immediately. She fell in love with Franco and this accidental baby, Anita, happened. 

Franco wasn’t ready for a full-on commitment but he was still around Anita (and Cass. and Nick.) only doing heist jobs in New York for the first few years of her life until he decides to do bigger dangerous heists. Consequently, he’s more closed off to Eve and she’s depressed. Little Anita is depressed too. Because she hates having a father who is gone for so long.

After Cassandra snitches on Franco to Sal, talking about how he always makes her mama cry, so Sal decides to swoop in and try to get Eve back. He promises to be honest with Eve about whatever actions he does, and he’ll be responsible and always put their family first. 

So the order of kids goes...Cassandra, Nick, Anita (younger than Nick by a year or two), then Louis, then Bianca.

Now at first, Anita is nervous around Sal. She’s only five or six when Eve breaks up with Franco. She misses her dad a lot, to the point of crying and admitting she wishes her parents were back together. Sal was very kind to the five-year-old, and said he could be her new dad, ‘if she wanted.’ After that, she got really attached to Sal and started seeing him as her real father. She was calling Franco by his first name and everything. She only gets close to Franco after Sal goes to jail and stops calling him by his first name.

She dated the son of a local police officer for a while, which everyone in the family disapproved of. They broke up shortly after Nick was sent to juvenile hall because this boy’s household was full of toxicity.

She becomes a lawyer to keep men like Franco, Sal, and even Nick, out of prison.

Face Claim: Lexi Underwood (the good ol’ 90s) / Sophina Brown (future)

[nicknellie]

I hope that this didn’t take too much time to do so that you were able to get your schoolwork!! This is definitely after the fact but I wish you the best of luck with your work.

(Accidentally forgot to answer about Reggie having a box similar to Rose’s so I’m going to do that briefly)

1. Unlike Rose’s box which was going to be used by someone else Reggie’s was just going to be used by himself also probably only looked at by the rest of Sunset Curve so he probably didn’t think/care about what it was going to look like.

2. The fact that Reggie would go to Luke’s parents and ask for baby pictures is perfection. Also the fact that he just casually stole a box of baby photos and or has pictures of a random baby (if it’s not Bobby) is hilarious and I was laughing so hard at that.

3. Yes, and that would explain that why Reggie didn’t recognize the box at first just because it was a mindless one he made, maybe not even one of his boxes that he put thought into it (what photos/items should I use ect) but just random stuff

Now onto this post (just starting at 2 so the numbers line up)

2. Yes, maybe the guys don’t even get a chance to ask him what’s wrong but Reggie randomly blurts this out and then about five minutes later they’re all crying. Bobby forces all of them to talk, even Alex.

3. Yes that’s exactly what I mean! Just because although he does have his moments of indecisiveness he’s mostly not really an indecisive person so once he believes in some thing he stands with it 100%. For sure, if someone (usually Alex) points out why/how he was wrong Luke will admit that he was wrong (depending on the reasoning it’s mostly begrudgingly)

4. You took the words right out of my mouth and I also love the fact that you said that it’s usually when he’s writing and not in general, because I feel like outside of writing Luke tries to be as conscious as he can about his bandmates well-being and stuff. (‘Luke, once again you are not a solo artist if that was the case then Reggie would already have a country album out and me and Bobby would make our own little band of ourselves just to spite you’ Alex at some point)

5. Alex definitely has quick wit, however a lot of time he just doesn’t say it (unless it’s the boys)

6. Oh, that’s just hurtful thinking about that. After they passed Bobby was never the same, especially since everything that he loved and did had so many memories of the boys that for the longest time he couldn’t do some of them without thinking of them. Also when he went to the garage he was so overwhelmed with memories and the fact that they would never be anymore Sunset Curve memories.

8. Yes, I love that so much. Also I think part of the reason why the police alerted Emily and Mitch was because Luke was supposed to be a missing person so once Bobby confirmed that the body was Luke’s that’s when they were reached out too (long shot but just thinking)

The Rubik’s cube aw, maybe that’s the one thing that Bobby took just to remember them (a drawing of Reggie’s and a small jigsaw of Alex’s)

10. The theme park idea is genius, and I love the detail of Reggie feeling like a proud parent although the boys would gladly go onto a ride that Reggie is comfortable with (for some reason he loves roller coasters as long as they up closer to the ground, with being afraid of heights definitely not not something that goes up high). However Reggie doesn’t want to be a problem and has no issue watching them for a ride or two, hence the feeling of being like a parent.

Yes, and although Alex can tell that it’s a lie, Reggie gets rather emotional about it. (Reggie might have been the one who gave him the drink with the 6 shots of toffee nut and burst out into tears upon realizing)

11. That’s exactly what they are like, I feel like people may be able to tell that Reggie is lying however that’s a normal thing that he does so he easily could not be. (He is)

Luke “where is your kitchen by the way?” Patterson is the great thing I’ve seen. (yes Bobby is so causal to a point that it’s very obvious that it’s not causal hence for it being easy to tell that he’s lying)

13. Phew, wasn’t sure if I would be able to get the link to work or not so I’m glad that it was! (They are so talented, and that is such a great drawing of Reggie in my opinion)

Line dancing, yes also they random break out into square dancing. (Also the boys in cowboy hats and cowboy boots, all the fashion, is an image that I never thought I would need in my life)

14. I’m glad that you liked it! Also yess, also I just want to see one of the boys kind of make fun of Caleb with the devil point of view (bonus points if ‘nick’ is there and has to see everything)

Also I completely forgot to comment this last time, but Reggie is a huge Johnny Cash fan and those three songs are his favorite from the artist. (They are the most played songs and whenever the other boys hear them they are so done but eventually start singing along)

15. Also just randomly has Star Wars characters in the drawing, for the longest time a small Han-solo is what he used instead of a signature.

16. Wait yes I love that. I wasn’t thinking along those lines but that’s exact what happens. Reggie would also be the one who always tried to eat the batter (as does Luke and technically they are both banned from the kitchen)

17. Oh my goodness young Alex. I completely agree with what you said, also picturing a baby Alex with frosting all over his face from baking gone wrong

19. Yes, also Reggie randomly has the boys join him for dancing in the rain (thought of that due to the fact that you said rain is relaxing so Reggie would just always want to be out in the rain but not when it’s storming)

20. This is literally it’s the mindset of anyone who meets Alex

Even Willie gets on board, especially when he fell off his board (worst line I’ve ever said but Willie would be the pun making type of person)

Also if it was for anyone else then Emily and Mitch wouldn’t let them however since it’s Alex exactly as you said ‘boys let’s get in the car’

21. Yes, Alex always randomly shows up. Even has his own key for whenever he needs to stay there but no one is around, honestly Mitch doesn’t have a lot of characteristics (I mean the song is mostly focused on Luke’s mom and stuff) so him being a supportive father figure is everything

23. Agreed, I want all of this. Honestly anything and everything Rose is needed

24. I just want more performances from both actors because they are fantastic. Also the fact that Flying Solo didn’t have Flynn singing at all was a lost opportunity to be honest. Not sure if you’ve seen lemonade mouth however with Flynn as their rapper they would be that band

Willie and Alex singing together is everything I need, just a duet needs to be in season 2. Also we were robbed of them dancing and I blame Caleb, so them dancing is also needed in season two.

Exactly, Flynn is so loyal and we need more of her (also her and Carrie moments)

25. I agree I think it took him sometime to go to therapy. (Possibly when he had Carrie just because he didn’t want to fail as a father and thought it would help him stress less about being a father, also raising a kid with no support from his friends that would’ve definitely helped out)

26. Wait yes, I want to see all of this as well. Especially him explaining his actions and apologizing, and that idea of him being their manger is brilliant. Going on with that, just like with Sunset Curve he books the gigs and stuff and Flynn is their social media manger (just because she can not be apart of the band somehow)

27. I didn’t think about that fully but yes, the fact that Julie is getting older and he’s not would definitely hurt him

28. I love those songs titles, we also have ‘if you wake me up at 4AM again it will not be nice’ ‘Bobby I don’t care how much I love your pieces if you keep leaving your yarn in random places I will scream’

30. Yes, yes, that is precisely what happens and the only way Ray should find out that the boys are ghosts. Tia Victoria does react that and her and Alex bonding is everything (also her and Willie bonding because)

31. There are so many ruined photos and Reggie being so upset about it which is exactly what causes Bobby to master the skill.

32. Alex always has about five stickers, some that are for Reggie and a handful that fans also give to Alex because they can. Legitimately Sunset curves fan base is so supportive and one of the best boy band fan base ever. Luke was once given a portrait of the bandmembers as animals and it is probably framed somewhere, also Bobby has one that someone painted of the band. Honestly the reason why Alex was probably given a jigsaw is because Reggie randomly said that he liked them to a fan and they just had to give one to Alex.

34. Yes, Luke also got stuck in a fridge once much to everyone’s confusion. Him randomly being in a suit of armour is the greatest thing I have ever heard

35. Willie is extremely photogenic, yes. Legitimately Reggie has so many pictures of Willie and Alex and Willie being photogenic has just cause Reggie to take even more. And once this discovery is made, on the photography account there’s a lot more photos of someone skateboarding (also just in general photos of Willie). Just photo shoots with Reggie, like everyone has had one at some point (even Carlos)

37. Alex just gives Julie a massive hug, all of the time and especially when she is sad. Also she definitely takes that hoodie, all of them take his hoodies. Legitimately by this point it’s not just Alex‘s clothes it is the bands (also Flynn has a hoodie) (Willie has takes hoodies)

39. Wait yes, (possibly could’ve been Trevor who gave Carrie that idea for costumes because he remembers when Sunset Curve did). All of those colours fit so well, also I can kind of see Bobby is yellow. They definitely have matching onesies, like two or three pairs to be honest.

Best photo ever, that is exactly what they look like

40. Alex teaching Willie how to dance is adorable and I’m just thinking about how cute that would be. Due to seeing Willie dance during ‘the other side of Hollywood’ Alex thinks that he would be able to waltz pretty well (at least be a better beginner than the rest of the band who can’t dance) and then is mistaken very quickly

This is just me saying the boys about 100 times because I can’t say three names together apparently 😂😂

You know the drill, under the keep reading 😂

I did manage to do my school work thankfully! We won’t mention the fact that I handed in every single piece late, but I don’t really think that’s my fault, it’s theirs for not explaining how all this was going to work. Anyway! Not the point! I keep getting so excited to respond to these lmao let’s gooo!

1. Yeah exactly, he was probably more concerned with just finding something to hold all his random bits and pieces. Or I just thought right now it could be like not just a “normal box” but maybe like an old case for his bass? Like he got a nice newer one and needed something to do with the older one, and it had locks so that was handy, so he just uses it for that. Or another type of less boring box maybe idk

2. Lmao yeah I laughed so hard when I came up with it and I like I totally think he would! Like if he couldn’t find real Bobby photos (I reckon there weren’t many anyway) then he just got those and Bobby was like “Reggie that baby looks nothing like me” and Reggie just shrugs like “close enough”

3. Yeah exactly! As if he’s only just starting to make the box and is putting whatever in it, not just the things that mean something

Ok now non-box-related stuff lol

2. Yesss omg I love that. They’re just in the middle of playing through a song and Alex notices that Reggie is slowly dropping out and turning distant and he stops drumming (which makes the other two stop playing as well) but before any of them can ask Reggie what’s up he just kind of explodes. Tears all round, mostly Luke because he’s so guiltily relieved it’s not just him feeling like this

3. Totally! Alex points out all the logical stuff and Luke is just frowning the whole time like a furious puppy, and when Alex is finished he just says “right Luke?” and Luke just keeps scowling but nods at him. Doesn’t work if Reggie or Bobby try it, it does work when Julie does it, and surprisingly also works when Willie does it (because Willie is really good at reading people, as seen with Alex, so he knows how to approach any situation like that)

4. Yes exactly Luke is so caring (like in ep 7 when Alex is practically attacking his drums and he just gives a quick “hey Alex you alright?”) it’s just sometimes he lets his passion get in the way, that’s usually where music comes in! And omg that’s so perfect lmaooo I live for Alex kindly telling Luke off to get him back on track I love it

5. Yeah he knows the boys won’t take him seriously but he’s more careful around other people - the first time he says something sarcastic to Julie that he meant as a joke he worries for like a split second but then she immediately comes back with something terrible (because we all know Julie is terrible at comebacks and does not have Alex’s quick wit) and from then on they have this friendly-mean banter going back and forth between them

6. Yes exactlyyy 🥺😭 I feel like he went back to the garage once and then either he couldn’t make himself go back there ever again OR he couldn’t make himself leave for a long time and stayed there alone for days on end - either way he suffered a lot, being alone with his thoughts and his guilt. He started trying to talk to the boys - like Julie talking to her mum when she runs out of the Orpheum in ep 9. “I don’t know if you can hear me guys, but I am so sorry. I’m sorry I let you down, that I wasn’t there, that I can’t make this right. I miss you so much and... I don’t know what I’m ever going to do without you.”

8. Ohhh yes that makes way more sense actually, I like that a lot! They probably just passed Bobby as he was leaving the morgue and they were coming in to see Luke and that hurts to think about actually oh god. And yesss he so took the Rubik’s Cube and for a long time he would fiddle with it when nervous; he never managed to solve it though, not even once

10. Yes definitely!! He loves rides like the Spinning Teacups (or whatever variation they have at the theme park of that ride) and it’s Luke who will sit out on that one because the spinning makes him feel ill. He’s less happy to sit out than Reggie is because he worries he’ll miss out on the fun, but he’d rather not vomit everywhere. Now it looks like I’m going off on a theme park tangent so I’m just gonna let it happen - Alex adores rides, there’s nothing he won’t go on. Like he’s unafraid even though people would expect them to hate it but he knows they’ve been tested and they’re safe so he’s more than happy to spend all day on the biggest rides. Bobby likes water-based rides and logflumes and stuff like that - they always make sure they go on those at the end of the day because they have to do it for Bobby but they don’t want to walk around soaking wet all day. Reggie likes getting/taking photos with all the dressed up mascots wandering around, Luke is thrilled by any interactive rides (except ghost trains because we’ve already established he hates horror movies and he thinks it’s like being in a horror movie), Alex also really enjoys just wandering around the big park and seeing people have a good time, and Bobby actually likes co-ordinating their day and making sure everyone gets to do what they want to

Yes I can totally see that! Like Reggie somehow didn’t know what one of his best friends was allergic to and felt so guilty afterwards. It’s a sore spot, they can’t bring it up or he’ll just start crying and hugging Alex for hours on end. Reggie will say “I’m so sorry Alex I could have killed you that day!” and Alex just goes “dude we all died anyway”

11. With Reggie it always turns into a game of “is he lying or is this actually some totally messed up thing he really did?” The most difficult time anyone’s ever had to figure it out was when he said he’d met Queen Elizabeth - like yeah it’s unlikely but it’s definitely the sort of thing Reggie would somehow accidentally do so??? (It was a lie, but not on purpose - he thought he had met her but it was just some random old lady at a store)

13. Omg yes!!! I feel like they just get bored during the day and Luke would just go “hey Reggie, come and Dosey Doe with me” and it would turn into all four of them dancing around the studio. And yes I think out of all the unlikely things I want in season 2 full cowboy outfits is very high up on my list

14. Ahskfldo YES Nick witnessing the entire thing!! Assuming lifers still can’t see the boys next season it’ll be so funny if Nick can see them because obviously he’s actually Caleb so he has to mentally restrain himself from reacting at all to them mocking him because he can’t reveal himself. So it’s just Nick shaking with anger and Julie saying “Nick? You okay?” and how biting back something mean about the boys and growling “fine” instead. And yes 100% Reggie plays those songs on repeat and the guys pretend to hate them but they can’t deny good music when they hear it so they do join in

15. THAT IS THE CUTEST THING EVER OMG THANK YOU FOR SAYING THAT! A tiny Han Solo in the corner of every piece, no matter if it’s Star Wars or not omg I love it I will never get over this

16. Yes lmao both of them are trying to sneak around Alex and duck under his arms to get at the batter and he’s just like “GUYS I am literally using an electric whisk, are you trying to get your fingers chopped off? Don’t even answer that, you’re banished from the kitchen, goodbye. Go annoy Bobby instead”

17. That is so cute omfg and like all over his clothes and in his hair. He just looks an utter mess but he’s smiling so wide and is the cutest baby ever (he was easily the cutest baby out of Sunset Curve, Reggie as a close second)

19. Wait yes I love that! Reggie’s just like “y’know it’s a lovely day outside d’you want to go dance with me” and Alex just goes “Reg it’s tipping it down. Of course” and it takes a while but Luke and Bobby eventually join them. Lots of splashing in puddles because the four of them are literal children and think it’s funny

20. That is the greatest thing ever andkdllf and I love how that was literally my reaction after episode 1 of the show too like wow Alex really is just that lovable. That pun as well I literally laughed out loud - I’ve reblogged/added to a post a while ago where I said Reggie and Willie communicate with each other only in ghost puns so I wholeheartedly support that. And exactly! If Luke suggested throwing eggs at anyone else’s house he would be sent to his room but he mentions it’s the Mercers’ and Emily just goes “I think we’re out of eggs, I’ll need to go shopping first, come on”

21. Yes omg idk why but the image of Alex having his own key is the sweetest thing ever - maybe because it symbolises him finally having a place to call home?? And yes I totally agree, Mitch doesn’t have a lot of characteristics (I wrote a massive list before where I made a load of headcanons about him because he didn’t have enough screen time lol) and he would develop so much if he took Alex under his wing

24. Omg yes you read my mind! She so should have had a verse in Flying Solo! Like thinking about it it’s totally plausible that Julie read her the poem before and Flynn, being Flynn, wanted to add her own verse about how much she loves Julie and how she’ll always be there for her! Or she could have at least like added harmonies or something?? Idk it’s just that Flynn is in the music program too and frankly I’d like to see her do a little more music. And I haven’t seen Lemonade Mouth but I did see a commentary video about it on YouTube (I think it was I’M LEMONADE MOUTH by Danny Gonzalez if you’re interested (but that might not be the title idk)) and if I’m remembering it right then YES absolutely! And yes exactly Willie would have danced with him if Caleb hadn’t made him leave! I’m still really angry about that because just think about how much fun they would have had together!!!!

25. Omg yes! I love that, I agree that it was because of Carrie being born that made him finally go. He wanted to be strong for her now that he finally had a second (third I guess?) chance at getting family life right and he knew he wasn’t in the right state of mind for it. And omg that mental image 🥺 if the boys had lived they would have been Uncle Luke, Uncle Alex, and Uncle Reggie to Carrie (and possibly even to Julie if they stayed friends with Rose too) and they would have raised her and maybe she would have grown up to be a little nicer and she and Julie and Flynn would have all stayed friends 🥺😭

26. Yes yes yes!! He gets back into his role of managing the band and even though the boys haven’t totally forgiven him he still finds himself able to write good music again and make jewellery again and he steps foot in the garage for the first time in decades because he has his band back and he feels so much happier and freer and he’s just ecstatic to have another chance!

28. Lmfao yes those are perfect! “Bobby I don’t care how much I love your pieces if you keep leaving your yarn in random places I will scream” was written after Reggie tripped over a bit of yarn that was somehow stretched all the way across the garage like a trap and when he fell he somehow managed to get totally tangled up in in

30. Omg yeah I can totally see her and Willie bonding!! I feel like Willie is kind of like an old soul and can just get along with everyone but he takes a special liking to Victoria for whatever reason and loves finding ways to talk to her

32. Yes! Sunset Curve just have the nicest, friendliest fan base and everyone is kind and respectful and all they want to do is give them stickers and fanart! Luke absolutely adores that portrait omg so Reggie and Luke would be puppies, I feel like Bobby could be a cat, and Alex would be something like an owl or something idk but they just are all captured as whatever the perfect animal for them and it’s adorable. Yeah you’re right I think Reggie just likes talking to fans and casually mentions it one day and the fans show up to the next gig with a 1000-piece puzzle for Alex

34. In a fridge omg I love it that’s brilliant. The boys laughed at him for a solid hour before helping him get out

35. Yes to all of that I love it!!! I also thought about Ray helping out - like he can’t see Reggie, but he goes along to all these photoshoots (and mostly can’t see who they’re taking pictures of either) and helps with angles and lighting and says well done to Reggie whenever he does a good job - Ray can’t see but Reggie smiles so wide at that

37. Ahsklfskdlfl yeah Alex has no hoodies left because they’ve all gone to a different band member or Flynn or Willie

39. YES OH MY GOD. When Carrie was just starting Dirty Candi she was saying about how she needed something to make them stand out and Trevor just immediately said “matching outfits, colour co-ordinated” without even thinking about it

40. Oh absolutely - but at some point Alex has to wonder if Willie is tripping so often because he can’t dance or so that Alex is forced to catch him. Willie is very eager to learn how to do lifts and stuff like that (even though it’s been years since even Alex did them) and he thinks it’ll be romantic. It is, but not because the lift is like this perfect moment, because it’s them messing up and being silly and just enjoying each other’s company 🥺

Not gonna lie this whole post might be my favourite we’ve made so far 😂

[dolphin-enthusiast]

bucci gang with a model s/o hc??

Bruno:

- Absolutely (and secretely) infatuated with s/o’s photoshoots to the point where he buys all the magazines, products etc. that include them. He won’t outright admit that he has basically all of their stuff and will be HELLA embarassed if s/o ever came across his secret little collection one day by mistake.

- Most likely that will happen someday and that’s when Bruno’s usual calm and collected persona would shatter a little, the man erratically stumbling over his own words and blushing madly whilst trying to explain himself. Last thing he’d want is to come across as creepy or stalker-ish for buying all of the magazines and pictures that s/o was featured in.

- Of course that s/o would just chuckle and call him adorable, something that would make poor Bruno lose it e v e n more. S/o would be flattered that their own partner thinks of their work so highly and greatly admires it, hence why from that day on they’d make sure to give him all sorts of limited edition stuff, some of which would even be signed! Needless to say, Bruno would feel like the luckiest man in the entire warudo.

Giorno:

- Just like Bruno, he’d be very invested in s/o’s work, every so often the man complimenting s/o on their photogenic nature and their overall lovely features. He’s just a little bit more open with his passion for s/o’s modelling career as opposed to Bruno, even though Gio would still be lowkey embarassed and would get hella blushy on many occasions.

- Giorno has an eye for art, and models are no exception. He thinks of modelling as its own kind of art because in his opinion it’s not easy at all for one to be able to fully convey all sorts of emotions and overall be photogenic in all of their photos at all times. He thinks of this career very highly and has a great appreciation for s/o’s work.

- One quick way to fluster him is for s/o to offer him signed pictures or even gift him a very rare limited edition magazine that features them on the cover! Of course that Giorno would modestly say that they really didn’t need to do that, but s/o knows him all too well and can see the sheer joy in his eyes once they give him such presents. If s/o was ok with it, Gio would even take some pics of them and keep them as memories.

Abbacchio:

- At first he wouldn’t even be able to believe that s/o is a goddamn model. How did he even end up with someone like this?? Hell, they could have ANYONE in the world and yet they chose to be with him. Every so often such questions would be plaguing Abba’s mind to the point where he’d end up asking s/o about it, to which his partner would just call him silly and explain that their career literally has nothing to do with their personal life and the choices they make of course.

- Abba would be lowkey embarassed of his behavior sometimes, but it’s just that he thinks they’re extremely beautiful and successful and that they could find someone way better than him. But honestly he’d be lying if he’d say that he ain’t fond of skimming through various magazines that include his hella photogenic partner. Just watch the man lose it after s/o secretely signs one of his magazines one day, Abbacchio letting out a comically loud gasp upon making the discovery once he turns to the first page.

- Seeing that their partner has a tendency of putting himself down sometimes, at some point s/o would come up with the wonderful idea of them taking pictures of Abba just to show him how goddamn beautiful he is as well. Of course that Abba would be extremely flushed and would make up excuses as to not do it at first, but s/o would eventually convince him and it would turn out to be quite effective. S/o would keep instructing him on how to pose (and the man would be a damn mess) and what expressions to make and holy shit he actually is very photogenic if he wants to??? S/o would ask him if he ain’t considering a modelling career, to which Abbacchio would just roll his eyes with a flustered smile.

Mista:

- If you thought Bruno and Giorno were chaotic fanboys then you ain’t seen jack shit because Mista stands out the most. He’d immediately recognize them as “that one super popular and hella hot model” and would jump up and down whilst asking for an autograph with the biggest most excited smile ever. How did these two end up actually dating??? No one knows for sure.

- Mista is extremely open about his passion for s/o’s modelling career and is constantly complimenting and praising their work. You bet your ass that he has literally all the magazines and posters featuring s/o and he ain’t afraid of asking for some extra rare limited edition numbers either. He’s absolutely thrilled whenever s/o has a new photoshoot and is basically cheering them on all the time.

- He’d be the happiest in the world if s/o would sign stuff for him too. On top of that. Mista also has a habit of bragging to people about his partner and how great they are in general, so the fact that they’re a popular model will be thrown into discussion more than once. He would tone it down if s/o wanted him to though, but he just can’t himself sometimes since he’s really proud of them yknow??? Also 11/10 asks if he can paint them like one of his french girls even though he’s fucking Italian.

Fugo:

- We all know he’s a man of culture, so there’s no way he wouldn’t recognize them. Ok maybe he wouldn’t OUTRIGHT recognize them like the chaotic fanboy that Mista is, but the second he’d see them on the street he’d just k n o w that they look familiar...till he glances to the side and sees an ad and realizes that holy shit they really are THE model!

- Fugo is hella shy and will be extremely reluctant to ask them for an autograph or shit like that, not to mention that he doesn’t wanna come off as overwhelming or creepy either. So once again, how did these two end up dating? Not sure at all. If anything, s/o was probably the one who made most of the moves all because Fugo would be too fucking shy especially because holy hell they are so popular and amazing and he doesn’t wanna embarass himself. S/o would find him to be hella cute of course. And don’t even get me started on that time when they cheekily offered him a little picture that had a small message written by them, autograph included. Fugo still keeps that shit in his wallet and calls it his lucky charm.

- Once the two make their relationship official though, Fugo will realize that he was being extremely silly for being so self conscious. After all, even if s/o is a very popular and well respected model it’s not as if they’re a deity (even though they sure look like one) or something. He’d gather more courage as time would pass to the point where he’d be buying countless of their magazines and posters, not to mention that he’s also very supportive and would be admiring them for just...having the balls to pose for a camera on a daily basis.

Narancia:

- Doesn’t even recognize them at first and starts dating them without having a single fucking clue until he sees an ad and the person featured in it gives him a little sense of deja vu. Only when s/o outright tells him about their career does the poor boi connect all the dots and he quite literally jumps up in the air full of excitement. He’d want to slap himself for being so blind all of this time but hey nothing else matters because his s/o is a f u c k i n g m o d e l.

- Considers himself the luckiest man on the planet and, just like Mista, brags to everyone about his dear partner and their succesful career. Sometimes he can get just a little bit too excited to the point where he’s staring off into the sky with dreamy eyes as he goes on and on about s/o’s lovely smile, but overall he’s just a very wholesome and supportive boyfriend. S/o happens to be nervous before a photoshoot? No problem, walking dose of serotonin Narancia is there to encourage and comfort them!

- Gets each and every product/magazine that features them to the point where he sometimes almost goes broke and it’s honestly the funniest shit ever. He just loves his s/o so much and wants to support them so damn bad by buying all the merch and products, even though s/o probably makes like twice the amount of money that he does. They’d find his behavior and enthusiasm to be extremely adorable, although s/o would still be a bit concerned about his spending habits sometimes.

Bonus - Trish:

- Honestly it’s my personal headcanon that Trish has an aspiration for modelling and lowkey wants to become a popular model someday. If not a model then an actress for sure. It goes without saying that she’d instantly recognize them on the street and would be h e l l a excited, the girl rushing towards said model and politely asking for an autograph.

- Basically, being with s/o would be the most thrilling experience of her life. Of course that she wouldn’t date them JUST because they are a model, but that aspect would also play a small part in all of this since she has a great admiration for models and she loves reading all sorts of stuff about the industry. That being said, she’d be absolutely smitten with both s/o as a whole and their modelling persona/image and would occasionally ask them for info about how it feels to be a model, how exhausting it is, how the industry works etc.

- Honestly deep down she’d wish that someday she’s going to be able to model along with s/o, and her partner would actually encourage her and support her dreams too. They would find her to be very cute and her entire admiration and love for their career would matter alot to them. S/o wouldn’t even be surprised once they stumble across the huge pile of modelling magazines (some of which would be featuring them) sitting in Trish’s room, even though the poor girl would be lowkey embarassed.

[dameronsgalaxygal]

I’ve Been Waiting For You - Chapter 3: Voulez Vous

series masterlist

Pairing: modern!poe x reader

Warnings: language, drinking, mentions and implications of past abusive relationship, light angst, things get steamy.

Word Count: 3176

Song Link: Voulez Vous

A/N: this took a really long time!! @rewritingstarrs and I filled the doc with notes/comments/suggestions and I still feel meh about it but hopefully it doesn’t disappoint!! don’t worry, things will be fine. don't forget to listen to the song! as always, feedback and comments are appreciated! taglist is open!

Summary: A night out in the city with your friends leads to the unexpected with Poe. 

The first few weeks in Florida had been pretty good. Your things were completely unpacked, your room decorated to your liking, and to your surprise, not one missed call from Kyle. Rey and Rose had toured you around Miami Beach, and as promised, Poe sent you the information for his aunt’s bookstore down at the shore.

You were walking down the beach with your roommates when you saw the little store across the street named “Solo Reads”.

“Hey, I’ll catch up with you guys later. I’m gonna go look inside this bookstore” You pointed across the street.

“Sounds good, text me when you’re done.” Rey said before trailing off with Rose.

The bookstore was small and antique-style. It looked as though it had been in this location for hundreds of years, the walls slowly starting to fall apart, but it added to the aesthetic. The smell of polished wood and coffee flooded the room and you couldn’t help but smile. You loved it.

You walked around in admiration until a short older woman peeked from behind an aisle. “Hello, dear. Can I help you find anything?”

Smiling gently, you approached her. “Hi, I was actually wondering if you were hiring. Your nephew is a good friend of my cousins and he referred me to you.”

She smiled back. “Ah, yes. Y/N, is it? Just moved from New York?” You nodded.

“I’m Leia.”

“Pleased to meet you, Leia.” You stuck out your hand to shake hers and she took it, grabbing your hand with both hers, squeezing tightly.

“You as well, Y/N”, she let go of your hand before walking behind the small checkout desk. “So when can you start?”.

“Start?” You were confused. You had just met the woman and you hadn’t even been interviewed yet.

“You know, start working. I need someone to care for the books more than I can. These babies, they’re old. I’d like to make sure they live as long as possible. Some customers aren’t so gentle in handling them. You were an English major, right? I know you’d appreciate all of these as much as I do.” She brushed dust off of a couple books that were stacked on the counter.

You completely understood. You had collected old novels and magazines since you were a child. Your favorite book being Pride and Prejudice. The idea of someone disrespecting a piece of work that an author put so much dedication into made you sad. You looked around the store before turning to face Leia.

“Absolutely. I will make sure that this place and these books are in great shape all the time”. It was true. You loved and adored all forms of literature, so you would work so hard to keep the place organized.

She smiled. “I know we just met, and that I didn’t give you a proper interview, but my nephew has great judgement in people. He told me you were a sweetheart, and I could tell that he was right the moment you introduced yourself. I know you’ll be good here”.

You blushed slightly. Poe called me a sweetheart?

Suddenly a girl, around the same age as you, burst through the door quickly taking off her jacket. “Sorry I’m late, Leia. I got distracted on the bus by this family who had never been to Miami before and their kid was amazed by the beach, so I missed my stop. But it was the cutest thing! You had to be there.” She made her way behind the desk and put her jacket down.

“Yeah, yeah. Tallie, this is Y/N. She’ll be working here soon.”

“Oh thank goodness. It gets lonely around here.” She chuckled.

“Hopefully I’ll be able to provide some sort of company” You smiled before your phone vibrated in your back pocket. You pulled it out to check the message. It was from Poe.

I’m down at the shore right now if you wanted to meet me and I can introduce you to my Aunt Leia!

You smiled before responding quickly:

I’m actually with her now! I got the job:)

You looked back up at Leia and Tallie who were talking and continuing to dust off the old books. “I can start working tomorrow, if that’s alright.”

Leia nodded. “Wonderful! We can discuss a proper work schedule later, but how does 11am work for you?”

“That’s perfect” Your smile widened. “Thank you so much, Leia. Nice to meet you Tallie!”

The two women said their goodbyes as you left the store with the same feeling you had after leaving Finn’s party a few weeks ago. So far, everything seemed to be going well, and you hoped that this was the start to the kind of life you had always wanted.  

You pulled out your phone to call Rey, but just as you were about to dial her number, Poe called you.

“Hello?”

“Hey! Congrats on the job. I mean, I knew she’d hire you, but still!” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“Thank you. For both congratulating me and for putting in a good word.” You, once again, were blushing.

“Of course. Thought I’d help you get a kick start here in the city. You got plans right now?” He asked.

You bit your lip nervously before responding. “Not really.”

Suddenly his voice through the phone sounded closer. “Good. Then can I treat you to lunch?” You jumped to turn around and see him laughing, his phone still pressed to his ear. A sense of deja vu ran over you as you remembered this was the same way Poe approached you at Finn’s party.

You hung up the phone and scoffed playfully. “You need to stop doing that.”

“I’ve only done it twice,” He laughed, putting his phone in his pocket.

You chuckled lightly before looking around. “So where are we going?”

“There’s a nice deli a couple blocks down. You up for sandwiches?”

Your mouth nearly watered at the thought. You hadn’t eaten since early this morning and it was only a couple slices of toast. “That sounds fantastic.”

The afternoon you spent with Poe was familiar. Just how you two talked for hours on his couch at Finns party, you two spent hours in the Deli talking about almost everything under the sun. He told you about his childhood growing up in South Miami, and he also revealed that his mother had passed away due to cancer when he was 18. You appreciated him sharing something so personal with you, and you wish you could do the same and talk to him about your past. But you had met him not too long ago. If you could hardly tell Rey who you have known your entire life, there was no way you could open up to your new friend right away. You had to admit though, every moment you spent time with Poe felt natural. It felt easy.

Over the next few weeks, your friendship with Poe skyrocketed. You had been working at the bookstore, and sometimes Poe would stop by to see Leia. Leia had mentioned that he had never visited this often, which made your heart flutter. You brushed it off though. You were enjoying your friendship with Poe and have someone brand new in your life. A blank slate.

You were sitting on the couch watching a movie with Rey and Rose when your phone buzzed. You smiled when you saw it was a text from Poe.

Hey! Just landed back to Miami and was thinking about going to the club with Finn tonight. We were wondering if you and the girls wanted to join.

“Poe wants to know if we want to go out tonight with him and Finn,” You asked your roommates, who didn’t take their faces off the TV.

“Yeah, I’m down. What time?” Rey asked and Rose nodded in agreement.

Yeah that sounds fun! What time were you thinking?

How bout 8? We can pick you up!

Sounds good. See ya then, Dameron.

Can’t wait :)

Smiling, you put your phone down. “Eight. They’ll pick us up” You reached for a chip from the bowl on the coffee table before returning to watching the movie.

Rose checked her phone. “That’s two and a half hours from now! I need to go get ready.” She stood up and headed to the bathroom to shower.

You laughed. You had gotten used to Rose spending at least an hour in the bathroom making sure she looked, as she liked to call it, “photogenic enough”.

Just as you were about to continue watching the film, Rey pressed pause and looked at you.

You cocked an eyebrow. “What?”

“What’s going on with you and Poe?” She asked with a smirk.

“What are you talking about? He’s my friend.” You chuckled before munching on another chip.

“Oh come on. When he’s not working, you’re with him. You smile every time he texts you. Him and Finn used to come over a lot, but since you’ve moved in, Poe has started coming over without Finn. Even Finn has noticed. He talks to me about it at work. Are you two-”

“No! No, Rey, it’s not like that.” You said sharply. You sighed when she didn’t reply at first, taken aback by your tone. “Look, I like Poe. He’s the first friend I’ve made after moving here. We get along really well and I enjoy being around him. Nothing’s happening between us. Okay?” You were saying this to Rey, but really you were trying to remind yourself of these things. You did like Poe. You were starting to like him in the way you had thought you liked Kyle, and it scared you. From what you had witnessed from the weeks you had spent being around him, you knew Poe wasn’t anything like your ex, but feeling something towards him meant feeling vulnerable. Were you ready for that?

“Besides, I don’t want to jump into anything right now. Not after everything with Kyle. I’m..” You paused to take a breath, your memories rushing back. “I’m still trying to get over that”.

She nodded, knowing that you hated bringing him up. “I’m sorry”.

“It’s okay” You reassured her. “Let’s finish the movie.”

The movie ended about half an hour later, giving you and Rey still enough time to get ready for your night out. You had been to a few bars with Rey since you had gotten to Florida, but not a club, and not with Poe.

You checked the temperature on the weather app, seeing it was going to be 80 degrees and humid. You changed into a pair of shorts and a crop top with a pair of white converse and gold earrings. You curled your hair and put on some light makeup. Your first time at a club, might as well look cute, right? Or were you subconsciously trying to impress Poe?

A few minutes after you had finished getting ready, there was a knock on the front door. “Coming!” You said as you headed towards the door, opening it.

Poe and Finn stood before you, smiling. “You look nice.” Poe smirked.

Your cheeks heated up once again, a familiar feeling around him. “Thanks”.

Finn rolled his eyes before chuckling softly. “You girls ready?”

Both Rey and Rose emerged from their rooms, “Yep!”

You all headed to the car after locking your apartment. You asked if it would be better to uber, but Rey wasn’t a big drinker and was always the designated driver. You trusted her to call an uber to take you all back home if she wasn’t feeling sober.

The club was huge. It was crowded and hot, bright and colorful LED lights that flashed through the entire room. The music was so loud that you could hardly hear your friends talking to you. But after a few drinks in, there was really no talking necessary.

You, Rey and Rose were on the dance floor allowing yourself to let loose. This was the first time you had actually felt a sense of joy. Yes, you were slightly intoxicated, but you had your friends, good music, a job that you enjoyed, and you were in Miami. You had seemed to forget about your past, and it felt so good.

Poe and Finn were getting more drinks at the bar, Poe unable to take his eyes off of you.

“You like her?” Finn yelled over the music for Poe to hear.

Keeping his eyes on you, Poe replied, “Fuck, man. I think so.” He laughed softly.

“Then go get her!” He nudged him, in which Poe smirked before heading to the dance floor.

You smiled as he approached you, reaching your arms out to grab him and pulling him to you. If you were sober, there was a likely chance you wouldn’t have allowed him to be as close as he was right now. But again, your past had seemed to leave you in the moment, and it was Poe.  

You danced together, jumping and spinning each other around until his chest was pressed against your back, hands on your hips. One of your hands was placed on his, the other snaked up to reach around his neck and run through his hair.

You could feel his hot breath on your neck as you grinded your hips against his. There was no denying that the man was getting very, very excited. Your breathing started to pick up, what with the humidity in the club and the alcohol in your system, not to mention the fact that your ass was pressed against the crotch of the guy you were starting to develop a crush for.

You felt Poes lips press against your neck and you gasped at the feeling. They were soft and warm and they provided a sense of comfort even in such an intimate setting. He continued to trace kisses up your neck until he spun you around to face him. You looked up at him to see dark eyes. You bit your lip before wrapping your arms around his neck, tugging on his dark curls as he pulled you closer. Lips nearly brushing over each other, you two continued to dance against one another.

At that moment, nothing else seemed to exist. Your foreheads pressed together, both of you smiling nervously, he leaned in to kiss you. Hesitant at first, you kissed him back. You swore you could hear fireworks going off in the background as you pulled away, music still pounding through your ears. You looked up at Poe as he jerked his head toward the door and whispered in your ear loud enough for you to hear, “Do you want to get out of here?”

With hardly any hesitation, you nodded. “Yes.” You had been drinking, but you were consciously able to respond verbally and process what he was really asking you. Everything you had mentioned to Rey earlier completely left your mind. You wanted Poe.

Poe smirked before grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the crowd. You looked around nervously to see Rey, Rose and Finn glancing at you and Poe as they continued to dance. Rey shot you a look and you nodded, letting her know that it was okay, and she winked at you.

Surprisingly unlocked, Poe opened the back door to his car and pulled you in, immediately latching his lips to yours as you shut it behind you. The kiss was rough and hot, but his lips fit perfectly against yours and you moaned slightly into the kiss as his tongue traced your bottom lip. His hands trailed from your waist up to your stomach and you pulled away for a breath.

Poes hands reached up to cup your cheeks, holding your face close. He leaned up and kissed the corner of your lips. Instantly, it all came back to you.

You were lying on the bed as Kyle hovered over you. Tears in your eyes, you stared at the wall. He leaned down to kiss the corner of your lips.

You had completely sobered up as the memories of Kyle came flooding back. Kyle used to kiss the corner of your mouth. The small gesture had brought back so many terrible memories and you decided that you couldn’t keep going, not tonight. You let out a breath, “Stop, Poe.”

Still in the heat of the moment, Poe responded without thinking. “No, no, no, hey baby, it’s okay.” his voice was calm as he brushed hair out of your face before leaning up to kiss you again.

“No, Poe. Stop!” Your voice was louder than you had intended. He pulled back immediately. “I’m sorry,” you avoided making eye contact, getting off of his lap and sitting in the seat next to him. “I want this. I really do….but I’m just not ready.” You looked down, hands fidgeting. “Uh, I think I’m going to go. Thank you for tonight, Poe….I’ll call you.”

You quickly got out of the car, walking through the parking lot as you opened your phone to call an uber.

“Y/N, wait! I’m sorry!” Poe called after you, but you kept walking. Poe leaned back against the headrest and closed his eyes. He let out a sigh, completely sobering up. “Fuck.”

You texted Rey as your Uber approached.

Got an uber home. Don’t worry, I’m fine. Just tired. I’ll see you when you get home.

It wasn’t a long ride back, but each second felt like hours. You started to wonder if you had just ruined what you had with Poe. If you did, it would mean losing the spark that you felt with him, losing a good friend, and that was the last thing you wanted. You weren’t angry at Poe. He had no idea. You were angry at yourself.

After what seemed like forever, you were home. You thanked and tipped your driver, walking into your apartment. Feeling exhausted, you went to bed right away, or at least tried to. It was difficult to sleep with so many thoughts running through your head. Memories of Kyle, walking away from Poe. Dancing with Poe. Kissing Poe.  

You are pulled from your thoughts when your phone that was resting on your bedside table buzzed.

Hey Y/N. I’m really sorry about earlier. I never intended to make you uncomfortable. I hope this doesn’t affect anything. Let me know if you want to talk. I’ll have my phone next to me all night. If not, no worries and I hope you sleep well.  -Poe

It gave you some relief knowing that Poe wasn’t freaked out by your outburst and that he wanted to talk. You wanted to reply to him, let him know everything would be okay, but you needed to allow yourself to calm down. The night may not have ended the way you intended it to, but there was still a huge chunk of you that still needed to be healed. Poe didn’t deserve to be treated like a rebound. You liked him a lot. You wanted to do this right, but you needed to be ready.

You let out a deep breath before putting your phone back down on the table, closing your eyes before you drifted off.

taglist <open> @twomoonstwosuns​ @rewritingstarrs​ @darksideofclarke​ @writingforhoursonend​ @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol​ @lanatheawesome​ @fanfiction-trashpile​ @fantasticcopeaglepasta​ @softly-sad​ @aidela​ @yeeintensifies​ @the-cry-of-youth​

[heathenarmyimagines]

Title: A Different Time (Final)

Summary: Now that they know how to go home it is time for the Vikings to go back to their own century.

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen

Taglist: @ubbesgirl, @shewolf2000, @tis-itheapplepie, @atequila, @demoncrypt1066, @greennightspider, @badbitsh13, @fireismysaftey, @minarawr, @laketaj24, @hvitserksgirl, @blahblahcookiesdoma, @fabulous-peasent, @sforsammmmmi, @minmiin1d, @courtrae89, @letsloveimagines, @tomarisela, @titty-teetee, @beyond-the-ashes@elenawrit, @mblaqgi, @whenimaunicorn, @chuflisworld, @mystruggledlife, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @syreni-dea, @trashqueenbitch, @alykatv, @mbaku-babygirl, @perfectus-in-morte, @beyond-the-ashes, @neeadinghugs, @readsalot73, @triumphantreturnofpies, @anarchy-is-coming, @tephi101, @alicedopey, @ivarslittlebadgirl, @jtrstp, @nejijjeoroo, @charlylama, @ivartheblessed, @captstefanbrandt, @fabulouschrissi, @ivarsrideordie, @3x5gurl, @the-writer-appreciation-blog, @lolabee9, @captainfoxy22, @young-ugly-god, @im5ftbutmythroat66, @bribyyy, @irishhiggins, @cadetomlinson, @keclleon101, @slutforragnarssons, @ltkeke, @meeeeeeeeeps, @lille-kanin, @opalscarab, @ssraven7, @ivarandersen, @concretewaywardangel, @funmadnessandbadassvikings, @sharon-is-tired, @cadetomlinson, @mystruggledlife, @chuflisworld, @justmarissa97, @lol-haha-joke, @weirdly-randomly-awesome, @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanim, @idonthavehusbandsihavelovers, @alexa040004, @buckythetinman , @burntmythroatskullingmytea,@jorunnravenslayer, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @buffy-the-vampire-blogger, @arses21434, @ltkeke, @captainfoxy22, @chinduda @letsshamelessqueen-m @my-soul-is-the-moon @we-are-transcendent, @sparklemichele

To say that the mood had been ruined by Sigurd last night would be a massive understatement.

Neither you nor Ivar even had the energy to speak about what had just happened, even if you did what would you say?

“I love you and we are perfect for each other but you need to go back to a land before toilet paper.”

Yeah right.

So you both just went to sleep.

Now you were waking up and Ivar was gone, but you knew last night hadn’t been a dream because your laptop was open with all kind of nonsense typed into the Google search bar. It didn’t take a genius to realize that Ivar had woken up before you and messed with your computer.

With a small sigh you closed the laptop and got out of bed to take a quick shower and brushed your teeth.

Dressed in pajamas you walked into the den and found everyone sitting around, looking very deep in thought.

‘I take it Ivar told you all about Sigurd.’ you guessed.

‘He did, he is also spouting nonsense about wanting to stay.’ Bjorn said with a scowl.

‘It is not nonsense, we have been for three days and nothing seems to have changed. Why leave if there is no reason?’ Ivar argued.

‘We all have reasons! I have a wife and children, and an entire country to raid! Not to mention that if we are all here what will happen to Kattegat? Hmmm? Our father’s kingdom, King Finehair has been waiting for years to take it over. What will keep him from doing so if we are here?!’ Bjorn shouted.

‘I do not care about Kattegat! What is it to me?! What was it to Father?! He was never there! All he wanted to do was get away from that barren place, so much so that he found England and Paris.’ Ivar spat.

‘You knew your father a short while Ivar, I knew him most of my life. Yes, Ragnar hated ruling, but he knew it was his home. Its where his family was, it’s the world he built for his sons.’ Lagertha said.

‘Why are you so keen on returning Lagertha? Are you really so eager to face me in combat?’ Ivar growled.

Lagertha smiled softly before she stood from her seat in the armchair.

‘I may not be eager, but be assured I’m ready.’

‘Hey! None of that! Not here, save all of that for when you are home. Ivar...you all are going home, I don’t like it either but Bjorn is right. You all have big roles in history as well as lives to live, you can’t just stay here.’ you said with finality.

Ivar looked visibly upset but said nothing back, and the others all seemed to take that as Ivar agreeing.

‘Good, now take the ax and send us all back.’ Bjorn said impatiently.

‘Wait.’ you said before you could stop yourself.

‘What is it?’ Ubbe asked.

‘Let’s go out, one last time. We could go to a park, get in one last good memory together before you go back.’ you said.

Sure you were procrastinating but you couldn’t help it, you really didn’t want them to leave. You didn’t want to go back to waking up alone and only having the television to keep you company.

‘I agree with (Y/N), I do not wish to have our time with her end on a sour note.’ Hvitserk said as he moved to stand between Ivar and Lagertha.

Ivar scowled at Lagertha one last time before he nodded.

‘Good, let’s go and get dressed. We can get you all ready to leave when we come back.’ you said.

The air in the room was still heavy but everyone moved to their rooms. 

As you picked out your clothes you kept having to tell yourself that you were doing the right thing, but it was hard to feel that way when all you wanted was for them to stay. 

Nonetheless, you pushed your own emotions to the side and finished putting on your sundress and white sandals. 

While you were putting on some lotion someone knocked on your door.

‘One second.’ you called before standing up and opening the door, revealing Ubbe.

‘Is everyone ready?’ you asked.

‘Not yet, but I wanted to tell you how much we all appreciate you doing this. I know it is not easy, but it is necessary.’ he said.

You nodded, keeping your eyes closed to keep them from watering.

‘Yeah, I know, but let’s not talk about it. I want to enjoy the last day with you all as much as I can.’ you smiled.

The two of you left your room and went to wait on the couch for everyone else.

While you were going through your purse making sure you had everything you needed you got a good idea.

‘Hey Ubbe come here.’ you did, motioning for him to sit closer to you.

He looked confused but did as you asked, once he was close enough you held up your phone.

‘What is this?’ Ubbe asked in wonder as he looked at his own image on your screen.

‘A picture, I want to have a few things to remember you all by, just look at the phone and smile.’ you explained.

Ubbe smiles and you do the same, once you were satisfied with angle you snapped the pic.

‘Yay, you are very photogenic.’ you comment as you showed him the picture.

‘What does that mean?’ 

‘It means you look good.’

‘Well I could have told you that much.’ he said smugly.

For the next minute or so you and Ubbe take more selfies and once everyone else came out you got one with each of them, all of them being fascinated to see their own image.

‘I really am quite handsome.’ Hvitserk said.

‘So humble Hvitserk.’ you smiled.

‘Come on, we can get breakfast at a diner, one that I don’t work at.’ you said.

You all moved out and loaded yourselves into the car.

As you drove the car was filled with joyous conversations, the vikings were speaking of all the things they would miss from this time and all the things they missed from their own.

While it was great to see that they were all excited in the backseat you couldn’t help but notice that Ivar was not participating in the conversation at all.

You reach over and put a hand on his and gave it a squeeze, if only to show that you saw that he was upset and you cared.

Once you arrived at the diner and got out you all headed inside, you were glad it wasn’t busy right now so you got a good table.

The server got everyone’s order, just the usual breakfast plates for everyone and orange juice for you.

‘So...this is it for us, our last meal together.’ you said.

‘It is, I must say that we will all miss you (Y/N).’ Lagertha said.

‘Aw I’ll miss you guys too.’

‘I’m going to miss this world, I wish I could have seen more of it, especially those sex toys. It would be amazing to have a mouth in my satchel for long journeys.’ Hvitesrk sighed.

Bjorn hummed a noise of agreement.

‘What are you whining for, you grab a girl on every raid, more than that if you are overly excited.’ Ubbe teased.

‘Been a little busy if you hadn’t noticed, not been on a raid in ages.’

‘You’ve got girls all over York too.’ Ivar said as he took a sip of water.

‘It gets boring having the same six girls.’ Hvitserk shrugged.

‘Six? You have that many?’ you asked.

‘Not that much.’

After that the rest of breakfast was spent chatting, laughing and teasing; it was as if the gloomy cloud had temporarily vanished and left everyone to enjoy their time together.

Even Ivar was laughing and making jokes with Ubbe and Bjorn, you imagine this was how they all were before everything happened.

Eventually everyone finished their food and you paid and tipped the server before you all headed to the park, you made sure not to go to the popular spots like the new playground or the lake.

You parked in the older play area, nothing was wrong with it, but a few years ago the city had built a bigger and better one closer to the lake so parents could watch their kids play while fishing.

‘What is this?’ Ubbe asked as he helped Ivar into his chair.

‘A playground, little kids used to come here to play, no one comes to this one anymore.’ you answered.

‘Did you play here?’ Hvitserk asked as he moved toward the swing set.

‘Yeah, here sit here and keep your feet off the ground.’ you smiled as you ran over and placed the viking in the swing.

Confused he followed the directions and once you were sure he was situated you began pushing him on the swing.

‘Swing your legs but keep your feet off the ground.’

The others were fascinated and curious to see what other wonders your favorite childhood play place had to offer. Within ten minutes Ubbe and Hvitserk were on the swings, Bjorn was spinning Lagertha on the merry go round and you were running Ivar all over the wheelchair track.

Everyone was having a good time and you felt like a little kid again, except you were not in that great a shape as you were back then so you had to stop to catch your breath.

‘Hold on...whew!’ you panted.

‘Are you alright?’

‘Yeah, totally...just need to a second.’ 

‘No more running for you.’ he suggested.

‘Thank you.’ you said as you began to push his chair again, walking this time.

‘Father would have loved you...Mother too.’ 

‘I would have loved to meet them.’ 

‘Do you think your mother and father would like me?’ Ivar asked.

‘My Mama would be thrilled that I let her meet you, if only to tell you embarrassing stories about me, my Dad? He’d try to kill you...if he doesn’t kill me first.’ 

‘Why? Because I’m crippled?’

‘Because you’re a boy, I’m his first born and he seems to think I’m still too young for anything involving a boy. Eventually he’d back off enough to drink a beer with you, and I’d have to remind him that I’m an adult.’ you replied.

‘What do you think would happen if I did stay?’

‘Ivar-’ you sighed.

‘I know that I can’t, but what if I did? What would happen between us (Y/N)?’

For a minute you didn’t reply, thinking it over in your head, what would happen if Ivar could stay here.

‘Who knows, maybe we would be together and everything will be amazing, I’d find a way for you to be able to go out in public and we’d live happily ever after.’ you hummed.

‘Or I would one day let my anger get the best of me and push you away, like I do with everyone I love.’ Ivar said.

You saw an old bench under a tree and placed Ivar beside it before you took a seat.

‘Maybe it would be my religion that pushes you away from me, Ivar you would not be the only one at fault if things went bad.’

Ivar took your hand and placed a kiss on your knuckles.

‘Want to know what would happen if I could take you with me?’ he asked.

‘What would happen if I could go with you to Kattegat?’ you asked with a smile.

‘I would make you my wife, and I would plan a grand wedding so massive even Freya would attend to bless our marriage. Then I would make it my mission to fill you with as many children as possible.’ Ivar said.

You chuckled, not at all surprised by how large Ivar’s dream already was, he was very famous for his ambitions.

‘How many kids, all boys?’ you asked, placing your head on his shoulder.

‘At least seven, and of course a man needs daughters to spoil.’

‘Nothing is worse than a spoiled little girl.’ you scoffed.

‘You would keep her humble...just like you would have kept me sane.’ he whispered.

‘You are not crazy Ivar, you do not need me to tell you that. You are no different from any other man, except in the fact that you are the greatest man that I have ever met in my life.’ you said seriously. 

Ivar looked shocked to hear such kind words spoken to him and seemed too stunned to even speak, so he just squeezed your hand gently as he looked away.

The two of you sat there in comfortable silence, listening to the birds and bugs, just enjoying each other’s company while you could.

Eventually Ubbe came to find the two of you to tell you everyone was ready to go home.

His words held a deeper meaning, it was not your home he was talking about.

The ride was filled with silence this time , as everyone seemed to take in the fact that they were really about to leave. No more discovering all the new technology, learning all the new customs or trying new foods; once they got back to your house they would say their official goodbyes to you and your world.

While they came to terms with that you were dreading going back to living alone in that house again. Once they were gone you would go back to quiet mornings, shopping and cooking for one, and spending a majority of your time either on the couch or in your bed.

More than anything you were feared seeing Ivar leave, you knew in your heart that you would never find another guy like him. A guy who would make you feel the way he did emotionally.

It was something you noticed while you were comforting him during his panic attack, sure at the time he was clearly not feeling his best but you had remained calm in the situation. Something you had been trained to do since your brother did have seizures often when he was younger, keeping calm is important in that situation. While whenever you had to deal with that type of thing you acted composed, but inside you were always panicking.

With Ivar you were genuinely calm, you knew he would be okay and had no worries. It was as if you knew nothing would ever break him, he was Ivar the Boneless. A man who would become history’s most notorious viking, he would conquer an entire world when he went home.

You could not keep him from that, no matter how much it broke your heart to let him go.

Soon you were parked in your driveway and there was no more time to take it all in, it was time for them to leave.

Everyone got inside and you told them to gather all of the things you had bought them that they wanted to take with them. As they did that you went to the garage and got all their weapons and the bag filled with the clothes they were wearing on when they first dropped into your pool.

In less than half an hour you were all in your living room, they were back in their battle clothes with their weapons and holding a few things they’d chosen to take with them.

Hvitserk had a small necklace with a cute crown charm, he said it was for Ubbe’s wife, a woman called Margrethe. Lagertha had a ceramic owl that she said reminded her of a pet she had back home. Ubbe was holding an hourglass and he was also holding Ivar’s snow globe. Bjorn had taken a ship in a bottle that he claimed to only be taking to assure himself he hadn’t gone crazy and imagined all of this.

Ivar sat in his chair, with his eyes focused on his bound legs.

‘OK you guys please just remember that before you die you have to burn these things to ash.’ you told them.

‘Why?’ Hvitserk asked.

‘Historians spend years and years digging up things you guys left behind, it would be weird if they found a necklace that was made in China in twenty eighteen with a bunch of viking swords. Don’t leave any evidence of this stuff, swear it to me.’ you begged.

‘We swear it on our rings.’ Bjorn said honestly.

‘Good now there is one thing left.’ you said.

‘Saying goodbye.’ Hvitserk said sadly.

‘I’m going to miss you guys.’ you managed to say as a lump formed in your throat.

Hvitserk and Ubbe stepped forward and pulled you into a group hug, you ignored the stink of their clothes and how rough the armor felt against your skin, you just held them as close as you could.

‘We will never forget you (Y/N), you’re the one we lost.’ Hvitserk said as he pulled back.

‘No matter what happens when we get back home I want you to know that my first daughter will have your name.’ Ubbe smiled.

‘Oh that’s so cute.’ you smiled as you wiped your tears.

The two of them stepped aside and allowed Lagertha to pull you into a hug all her own, she held you tightly in a way that only a mother could.

‘You will always be a daughter to me, I am sad to leave you.’ she said before pulling back and placing a kiss on your forehead.

Then Bjorn stepped forward and kept his eyes on anything but you.

‘We are all thankful to you for housing us and feeding us in our time of need, none of us will forget your kindnesses, this I swear on both my arm ring and my life.’ he said formally.

You rolled your teary eyes and hit him in the chest.

‘Shut up and give me a hug you mean old man.’ you said as you wrapped your arms around him as best as you could, certain that you looked like a child next to such a large man.

‘I will miss you too Bjorn.’ you said.

Now came the last person you wanted to say goodbye to, Ivar; and by the way he was still looking down you assumed he didn’t want to hear it either.

‘Ivar.’

Before you could say anything past his name Ivar had suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled you down into his lap.

‘Don’t say it. Let me imagine that I will see you again one day...please don’t say it.’ he whispered into your ear.

You tried closing your eyes to keep the tears from falling but it did not work; you hadn’t actually stopped crying since you started but now you were all out bawling into Ivar’s shoulder.

He wrapped his arms around you and held you as you sobbed, and you were sure that you felt a few tears on your shoulder as well but Ivar didn’t move an inch or make a sound.

With all the willpower you had in your body you pulled back and placed a kiss on his lips, not a deep or lustful, but you tried to bid him farewell this way since neither of you could handle it being said out loud.

‘I will see you again.’ he said.

‘Yeah, and we’ll have that big Viking wedding you promised me.’ you said, trying to smile through your sobs.

‘Then you will give me many children.’

‘Dozens of them.’ you said as you stood up and turned away from everyone, if only to give all of yourself a minute to regain your composure.

Once you had finally silenced your sobs you turned back around and found Bjorn holding the ax.

‘It is time for us all to go home Ivar.’ he said as he held out the weapon.

‘Finally.’

Everyone jumped as Sigurd appeared, standing by the fireplace.

‘Sigurd.’ Ubbe said in awe.

‘Did you miss me brother?’ Sigurd asked with a smile.

‘Of course I do, we all do.’ Ubbe said.

‘It has been chaos since you died, as you have noticed.’ Hvitserk said.

‘It couldn’t have all been avoided, but some of it could have been.’ the ghost said passive aggressively.

‘Why are you here Sigurd? Is me making the sacrifice not enough, do you need to see it too?’ Ivar spat.

‘I am only here for one thing, and is none of your concern, you’ve said your goodbyes to the woman you love, now take the ax and make your sacrifice.’ 

Ivar looked ready for a fight but Ubbe’s hand on his shoulder let him know that this was not the time to lose his temper.

Bjorn once again held the sword to Ivar.

You dug your fingernails into your palms to keep yourself from knocking the ax out of Bjorn’s hand.

‘Take the ax.’ you forced yourself to say.

Ivar looked over at you and he just looked deep into your eyes, before saying the one thing you needed to hear from him before he left.

‘I love you.’ he whispered before he put his hand on the ax.

At first you thought you were imagining the sky blue glow that seemed to be coming off of all of them, but after you blinked and it was still there you knew it was real.

They were all glowing, and the brighter that beautiful blue glow became the harder it was for you to see the vikings. Eventually the light was so bright you had to close your eyes to shield them from the glow.

Soon the light dimmed enough for you to open your eyes again, but there was nothing there. 

The only thing left in front of you was an empty wheelchair, and as much as you thought you had been prepared for it the wave of absolute loneliness knocked the wind out of you.

You barely recognized the wrecked noise that clawed its way out of your throat as you broke down literally to your knees.

It felt as if you were going to be physically sick from how hard you were sobbing, but you couldn’t stop.

‘Do not cry Miss.’ Sigurd said, his voice softer than it was before as he placed a cold hand on your shoulder.

‘Leave!’ you snapped at the ghost as you stood up and turned on him.

‘I will, but not before I put you at ease.’ 

‘How can you put me at ease?! I just met and lost what may have been the love of my life because of some stupid siblings rivalry from centuries ago!’ you yelled.

In anger you pushed him back, mildly surprised when your hands actually make solid contact.

‘Believe me I understand a broken heart and I know that right now you curse me and blame me for the ache in your chest, but allow me to put some of your worries to rest. Let me tell you how Ivar lived his days without you.’

You did not want to hear that right now, you were still trying to cope with the fact that Ivar was long dead now, but you knew that later on you would go nuts wondering what happened to Ivar.

‘Tell me.’ you said as you sat down on the couch, taking the time to wipe away your tears.

‘Ivar had many great victories in battles and war, and many failures in love. He never forgot you, and he never found a woman he could love as much as he did you.’ Sigurd said

You felt like a shit person for feeling any amount of comfort in those words, but you were a little glad to know that Ivar didn’t forget you.

‘Was he happy?’ you managed to ask.

‘...No, Ivar could never truly be happy without you by his side, but he tried to be for your sake. He died in his bed an old man in one of his many kingdoms, with his wife and children at his side.’

Your eyes watered at that bit of information, and you were unsure if you were sad or happy about it.

‘He had children.’ you repeated.

‘Yes, and he left you a message...here.’ Sigurd said as he held out the ax to you.

At first you had no desire to touch it, but you did notice carving all over the handle that wasn’t there before.

Reluctantly you took it and saw that it was in fact writing, it was the English alphabet but you didn’t understand the language. You remembered Ivar wanting to learn to read and write in English, but you never got the chance to teach him so this was most likely Old English or Latin.

‘What does it say?’

‘It says, To my love, I’ve missed you everyday since I last saw you. It has been thirty four years since that sad day, and I am on my deathbed. My wife is sleeping beside me, I must say that in a way I do love her, she gave me many children, but it is not the love I have for you. I sometimes deep in my mind curse myself for not being a filthy Christian, if I were I could see you in heaven one day and be happy with you.’ the ghost read.

Your knuckles were white from how hard you were gripping the ax, you were determined to stop crying this instant.

‘Ivar was better for meeting you, and so was his personal life with our brothers, and because of you I can finally dine with father in Valhalla. For that I am thankful to you, as are the Gods, they will not forget your sacrifice. When you are ready, they will bless you, farewell Miss.’ he said before he vanished just as he had last night.

Now alone, you began crying again, the sound of your sobs seeming to echo through the empty house.

It felt like all you did for the next two weeks was cry as you moved around the house cleaning the rooms the Vikings had used. The last room you did was your sister’s, the room that Ivar used.

You slept in there until Ivar’s scent left the sheets.

Eventually you had to return to work after your vacation was over, but your boss was still very upset about the altercation that had happened during your last visit. He had been cutting your hours and giving you dead shifts that required a lot more work with less tips.

After a month of this you were fed up and got a job at the buffet with your friend, the pay was better since it was hourly and you were also given tips.

Your finances were greatly improved but your mother needed a very expensive surgery and you couldn’t afford to throw all your money into that without putting your siblings allowances at risk.

So you figured the best thing to do was to list your home on Air B&B for extra money. It really killed two birds with one stone, you were able to afford the procedure and the house was alive again.

The guest kept you busy and some were real cheapskates but it was better than doing nothing all day and crying.

One afternoon you went to your email and saw that someone wanted to use your home for the next two months while he and his friends looked for more permanent homes in the city.

You emailed back and you both agreed on the price and time period before you finalize everything. 

At last came the day and you were making sure everything was ready for your guest, the bedrooms were clean and the fridge stocked. 

Like usual you took off the day of your guests arrival so you could give them the tour and you always like to prepare them dinner on the first night to introduce your guests to Texas.

There was a knock on your door and you went to open the door with a smile like always, but your polite smile quickly became a dropped jaw.

It was Ivar! 

Standing right at your front door, your mind was filled with a million questions. How was he here, how is he standing, what the hell is going on?! 

None of those questions could fall from your lips because before you could catch yourself they were on his.

You had thrown yourself into his arms and kissed him, overwhelmed by a flood of joy to be seeing him again after all these months.

He pulled away and looked at you awkwardly.

‘Um excuse Miss.’ he said with a stunned face.

You backed away and looked at him, taking in his jeans, muscle shirt and the headphones around his neck.

This was not Ivar, not your Ivar anyway.

‘Is this how you greet all your guest or am I special?’ he smiled nervously.

‘I-I uh… oh my God I’m so sorry I thought you were someone else entirely.’ you apologized, completely mortified. 

‘No no, it is fine, I can think of worse greetings.’ he smiled.

You shift your feet nervously as an awkward silence fell over you two.

‘Anyway, I am Alex Høgh Anderson.’ he said, mercifully breaking the silence.

‘Of course, I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N) welcome to Dallas.’ you said.

Before he could reply you heard a car door close, causing you to look behind Iv- Alex and you saw Ubbe and Hvitserk.

This time you refrained from running up to them, not wanting another awkward moment.

‘Let me introduce you, these are my buddies Jordan and Marco, guys this (Y/N) she will be hosting us.’ he introduced.

The two of them greeted you politely with waves and short hellos. 

Jordan was wearing sweats, while Marco was in straight up pajamas.

You step aside and let them all in to begin showing them around the house.

As you walked around you were struggling to keep calm, but you managed to get through it.

Of course Alex was the last one to be shown to his room while the others began unpacking. 

‘Ok this is the master bedroom, the bathroom is stocked with towels and toiletries let me know if you need anything. I’ll be in the kitchen cooking if you have any questions.’ you said.

‘Thank you and um...whoever you thought I was must have been a very lucky guy.’ Alex smiled.

You blushed as you left the room to scurry into the kitchen to start on dinner.

The second you entered the kitchen you nearly ran back out.

‘I take it you did not miss me.’ Sigurd smiled.

The ghost looked much better than he had last time, his clothes were no longer bloodied and he appeared to be brighter now.

‘What the fuck are you doing here? And what the hell have you and your Gods done to Ivar, Ubbe and Hvitserk?’ you whispered angrily.

‘Nothing, my brothers are all feasting in Valhalla, those are regular men that the Gods lead to you. What happens now is all up to you.’ 

‘What are you talking about?’

‘I told you that the Gods would not forget what you have done, nor would they leave you heartbroken.’ he said.

‘A replacement?’ you asked.

‘Who are you talking to?’ Jordan asked as he came into the kitchen.

You looked back to where Sigurd had been literally a second ago but of course he was not there now.

‘Just myself, trying to decide what to make for dinner.’ you lied.

‘Oh yeah Alex said you would make dinner some nights. I was just coming to ask for the WiFi password.’ 

You gave him the password and also took the time to ask him if any of them had any food allergies, thankfully none of them did.

‘Great, I’m sure you and your friends are all tired after getting off the plane, you can all chill out in the rooms while I cook.’ 

He thanked you and headed out, leaving you alone once more, for a minute you waited for Sigurd’s ghostly self to pop up again but he didn’t.

As you began cooking you think back to when you first developed feelings for Ivar, and how strong they were. It had taken you so long to even begin to move on and live day to day without crying at the thought of him.

You did not think you could ever feel that strongly about another man again, and a small part of you didn’t know if you wanted to.

Nearly two and a half hours later you were done with dinner; the chickens were baked, potatoes roasted, broccoli buttered and steamed and rolls were glazed with sweet honey butter. For desert you thought ice cream would do fine, since you were not sure if they would be still be hungry after dinner.

After you set the table you got out a simple bottle of champagne and put on ice, once you were satisfied that everything was ready you went to get your guests.

You never opened the bedrooms if the door was closed, it just seemed like a rude thing to do, especially if the person was a paying guest.

Jordan got right up when you knocked and told you he would get Marco, since apparently he was a heavy sleeper. Which you knew to be true when he burst into Marco’s room and you saw him straight belly flop onto his friend.

You tried not to laugh as you knocked on Alex’s door, telling him that the food was ready and he opened the door wearing sweats now. 

‘Thank you, I was starving.’ he yawned as he stretched.

‘Good I cooked plenty, should put you all right back to sleep.’ you smiled.

‘Already trying to get me in bed?’ he teased.

‘You are not going to let that go are you?’ you asked.

‘My first kiss in a new country? Nah I’m going to hold on to it for a while.’ he smiled.

‘Whatever, lets just eat, hopefully Marco is up.’ you said as the two of you walked down the hall.

‘The foods ready?’ Marco said as he finally came out of his room, wide awake with a completely exhausted Jordan behind him.

‘Yes it is.’

Finally you were all seated at the table eating and drinking while you all got better acquainted with each other since they would be staying here for two months.

‘Wait so you guys are opening a shop?’ you asked.

‘Sort of, we design and build custom furniture, the company we work for decided to go international and opened a location out here and sent us to start it off.’ Jordan said.

‘That is so dope, I actually was looking to redo the front room, maybe I’ll be customer number one.’ you smiled.

‘And we would make sure your furniture was our best work, least we could do after this amazing meal. I don’t even eat broccoli but this is delicious.’ Marco complimented.

‘Aw thank you so much.’ you smiled.

The night went on and not a crumb was left of anything, you all were full and ready to go to bed for the night.

You all got up and headed to your rooms, your room was right across from Alex’s so you two were the last ones left in the hall.

‘Um, Alex.’ you said before he could go into his room.

He turned back to you and you inwardly cursed because a small part of you hoped he hadn’t actually heard you.

‘I just wanted to say thanks, for not telling the others about...you know.’ 

‘Why would I? You don’t tell too many people when you find such a great treasure.’ Alex smiled down at you.

You were so (pleasantly) surprised by his straightforward flirtation that you couldn’t think of what to say.

Luckily Alex took mercy on your awkward self.

‘I was wondering if you would like to go out for coffee and a walk tomorrow morning. The other two will no doubt sleep until two in the afternoon if we let them.’ Alex suggested.

He had just asked you out for a date, like a real date! You hadn’t been out with any man since Ivar and the rest of his family had left, in fact you hadn’t been thinking about romance at all.

Maybe Sigurd was right and it was time to change that. Ivar would have wanted you to be as happy as you could be.

‘I would love to.’ 

‘Great, um is eight a good time?’ he asked.

‘It’s perfect, I will see you then, good night.’ you said before you finally went into your own room.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath to try and calm your racing heart. When you opened your eyes they fell on the ax on your bedside table.

With a sad sigh you walked over to it and ran your hand over the carving.

‘He’s not you Ivar, I could never expect him to be, but I will try to be happy with him. Just as I’m sure you tried to be happy for me.’ you said softly.

[noona-clock]

Excuse Me?

I am HERE for the Drabble game. Au-11/Trope-9/Phrase-39 and with Bobby?? I love you and have fun writing!

Here you go, @cramelot !

Genre: Travel!AU

Pairing: Bobby x You

Trope: Strangers to Lovers

Prompt:  “You confuse me.”

"Excuse me?”

You stopped short, turning your head toward the source of the question. Your eyes landed on... well, the first thing you noticed was his purple hair. It was kind of hard not to notice it. But then you realized he was holding his phone up, and you remembered he’d asked you a question.

“Yes?” you replied.

“Would you... take my picture?” the man asked a bit shyly. He gestured to the railing behind him, the cityscape providing a beautiful backdrop.

“Oh! Of course, yeah,” you grinned. 

You stepped out of the way of the other tourists and accepted his phone before following him back to the railing. While he positioned himself against the iron poles, you studied the phone screen, your eyes narrowed in concentration.

“Hmm... a little more to the left,” you called out. There were two fairly tall buildings in the background, and the picture would look much more balanced if he took just a few steps to the side.

He followed your directions, but he took a step to the other side.

“No, the left,” you repeated with a slight chuckle.

“This is left!” he cried.

“That’s right!”

“Yeah, I know!”

“No, no - you stepped to the right! I meant the left!”

“But I did --” He interrupted himself with a shake of his head, his lips forming into a very befuddled but also amused grin. “You confuse me.”

“Sorry,” you laughed. You raised one arm and made a pushing motion to the left - your left. “Step that way.”

He lifted his foot and took two giant steps over.

“Perfect!” you called out, giving him a thumbs up to punctuate just how perfect it was. “Okay... one... two... three.”

You tapped the button, hearing the click of the digital shutter. And then you turned the phone to take a landscape picture.

And then you took a step forward to get a close-up.

And then you squatted down to get a cool angle.

When the owner of the phone walked up to take it back from you, he was chuckling. And his smile was just so incredibly adorable, you couldn’t help but smile yourself.

“Are you a professional photographer or something?” he asked in amusement.

“No,” you laughed, feeling your cheeks warm a little. “Make sure there’s at least one good one?”

He nodded, his gaze shifting down to his phone. As he swiped through, you found... there was absolutely no way you could stop yourself from staring at him.

Maybe it was the purple hair, but... there was just something about him you were inexplicably drawn to.

“Oh, wow,” he murmured. “These are really good, thank you.”

“Sure,” you grinned. “I mean, you’re really photogenic, so I would have to be really, really bad at taking pictures.”

He looked up at you then, his eyebrows raised, half-hidden underneath his somewhat shaggy locks. “Do you want me to take some of you?”

One Year Later

“Bobby,” you chuckled, nudging his side with your elbow. You could see his eyes crossing on the camera screen as he got ready to take a selfie of the two of you. “Come on, be serious.”

“Okay, okay, sorry,” Bobby mumbled before straightening his posture and his facial expression.

“No, but smile!” you laughed.

“You just said be serious!”

“Yeah, I just meant don’t do a weird face!”

“But smiling is not being serious!” He let out a playfully annoyed sigh and let his arm drop so he could turn to look at you. “You’ve been confusing me since the day we met.”

Memories of that day, exactly a year ago in exactly this spot, came flooding through your mind.

His purple hair, your misleading directions, his confusing laugh, your picture-taking squat.

It was so hard to believe that two simple questions had started all of this.

You stood on your toes and quickly pressed your lips to his with a soft giggle.

You thought you were being quick, but Bobby was quicker.

In a flash, he lifted his arm again and snapped a selfie while your lips were still joined.

“Ha!” he crowed with pride. “Got it!”

“You -- okay, now take a real one!” you cried. You pressed your cheek to his and smiled, watching as he positioned his phone just so to get the perfect selfie.

“There,” he murmured after tapping the button. “How’s that?”

“Perfect,” you beamed. And then, because you couldn’t help yourself, you turned your head to kiss him again. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Bobby whispered against your lips. “Even though you hardly ever make sense.”

“Shut up,” you chuckled.

Two simple questions asked on this very bridge just twelve months ago.

“Excuse me? Would you take my picture?”

And now look at where you were.

I mean, you were still on that same bridge taking a picture. But just about everything else was different. And just about everything else was perfect.

[unavenged-robin]

Juxtaposition - 3

Part 1 + Part 2

Tim hadn’t meant anything by it, honestly. He just happened to stumble into the kid while having a camera in his hands, and that was all. It hadn’t been his fault if Damian was too busy drawing and didn't notice him: the brat was supposed to be a baby ninja, after all. Another thing he was not responsible for was Damian being... photogenic. He would never use the word cute, not even to save his own life.

Point is, the kid was sitting there, under a tree, surrounded by his pets - Titus' big head on his leg, Alfred the cat curled up by his feet - his head bent over an old sketchbook, and a look of total focus on his face, and Tim didn’t even think about it, he raised the camera to his eye and took the photo.

Click.

Damian lifted his head, looking annoyed but not surprised. So maybe he had known about Tim being there. Maybe he just hadn’t care enough.

“Taking photos of people without their explicit consent is a felony, Drake”, he said, narrowing his eyes at Tim. “I could report you and have you arrested.”

Tim snorted and plopped down on the grass in front of the kid.

It was such a beautiful day. The sun was warm over the skin and the wind was like a gentle caress on the face. Even the colors looked like they were happy to exist; they were so intense they seemed to vibrate under his stare: the blue was so blue the sky could’ve very well been the ocean, the green was so green the whole garden could’ve been just one, giant new leaf of a young tree.

And Damian, Damian was a spot of red and black in all that green, like a tiny ladybug resting in the grass, and his eyes were also the greenest green Tim had seen for a while. He had smiled at the kid with a contented heart.

“You happen to be a minor, brat”, he reminded him with a bit of teasing in his voice. “And I'm listed as one of your legal guardians. That means that, until you're eighteen, I can pretty much do whatever I want with you.”

Damian looked up from his sketchbook to squint at him. His cheeks were sun-kissed and his nose was getting too red under the warm light of the afternoon, and Tim remembers how in that moment he had the sudden, shattering realization that he felt a not insignificant amount of affection for his brother. And that had not been the only time he’s ever felt that way, but it had perhaps been the first one.

Damian had dismissed him without a second thought.

“You are not my legal guardian.”

“I am too.”

The words stayed there for a moment, lingering between them, then Damian had frowned at him, out of curiosity more than outrage, Tim thought, as he choose to believe him.

“Why?”, he asked.

Tim turned his eyes away, lifting his face to observe the branches of the tree above them swaying slowly in the wind. He didn’t want to ruin the quiet.

“Because this family is a mess and Bruce wants to be sure that, if he decides to go take another stroll in the past again, you won't be left on your own”, he explained anyway. It was both a surreal and a serious affair, and they both knew it.

Damian had considered it for a moment, gnawing pensively at the tip of his pencil.

“I won't be left with you anyway”, he decided with a shrug. “You would have to go through Grayson's body to get me.”

Tim remembers how he had laughed at that.

“Yeah, that's true”, he had said. “Neither of us need to worry about it.”

*

Tim stares at the ceiling of his own bedroom like he expects some kind of answer coming down from there, along with a few friendly spiders he’s never had the time to chase away.

That afternoon used to be a good memory, once upon a time. Now it comes at him at night, haunting him with its bitter taste of unforeseen omen, and Tim wonders if Damian ever thinks about it, if he remembers it as clearly as he does.

He hopes not. He hopes that, at least for the kid, it’s not ruined.

There’s still some good stuff attached to that memory, though. Damian had wanted that photo, marched down to this very apartment to get it. And Tim had developed the film just for him, showed him how to do it and pretended not to notice how invested Damian was. That had been nice too: teaching the kid something new, something harmless they both enjoyed. Damian had let Tim guide his hands through the various proceedings, he had even obeyed every instruction with a minimum amount of huffs and scoffs. That had been another good day.

Fast forward, Tim hadn’t been there for Damian’s eleventh birthday, but he had bought him a camera and asked Alfred to pack it up in the most childish, colourful wrapping paper he could find, and to give it to the brat when he looked less willingly to throw it away without even bothering to unwrap it. And of course he hadn’t expected much in return, but to his surprise Damian had actually texted him a short and very formal thank you. That meant the little gremlin had loved the gift. Tim had been happy about it.

Those memories still makes him smile, even if now they leave a bitter aftertaste on his lips. Nice moments like those had been a rare thing, little pearls lost in the sand of the constant fights, the misunderstandings, and the mutual disinterest.

And now the world was all chaos and fragile things, and none of them really know what to do. Not Damian, freshly deprived of the only two father figures he had ever known; not Tim, who had found himself responsible for him; and sure enough not Jason, who had just got himself trapped in the whole mess.

Tim sighs and gets out of bed. The clock radio on the nightstand marks four o'clock in the morning, but there's no way he’s going back to sleep tonight, he's sure of that. Better to make some tea and keep working on tomorrow’s case. At least that’s the plan when he gets into the kitchen.

He goes as far as to put some water on the heat, then the memories of that afternoon comes back to needle him. There must be a box somewhere, filled with the photos from the first film he had developed for Damian, the first photos the kid had ever took in his life, as far as Tim knows. And e hadn't told Damian this - of course he hadn’t - but he'd made copies for himself. At the time he hadn't even ask himself why: he had just wanted to do it, so he had gone and done it.

He finds the box tucked away on the highest shelf of his library, covered by a thin layer of dust. Housekeeping’s never been his strongest suit.

A faint gurgling from the kitchen reminds him of the tea he was making. Tim retrieves it, pushes some jasmine leaves into the hot cup, then goes and sits on the couch. He shoots a quick look at Damian's room, but the door is closed and no light seeps from under it, no noise comes from the other side. The boy should be asleep.

For some reason he can’t explain, Tim feels a pang of guilt as he opens the box.

Damian’s photos are all there and Tim picks them up with a smile. It's funny looking at his family through the kid's eyes: everyone looks a lot taller, everything seems bigger. It's a bit of a déjà-vu, because Tim remembers well enough how the world looks like on a child scale.

The first bunch of photos are reserved to Damian's pet, of course. Here’s Titus, sleeping on the library’s rug or sitting at Damian’s feet, and Alfred the cat curled up on the windowsill. There’s Batcow eating some grass in the back of their courtyard, Goliath with its wings spread out, getting ready to fly. Tim knows Damian misses them. He wish he could at least give them back to him but he has no space for pets in his apartment, and they can’t go home anyway.

He puts those photos aside, and the next one hits him like a fist in the stomach. Here, in front of him, there’s Dick. He's smiling down, his lips upturned, the affection so clear in his eyes. Tim tries to imagine whatever absurd excuse Damian had tried to made up to justify his wish to have a picture of him, and he can’t think of anything, but it’s pretty obvious that Dick had seen right through the kid.

Damian is the subject of the next photo. Even if it hadn't came up right after Dick's one, Tim would've known anyway that Dick was the one who took it. It's the expression on Damian's face to give it away, that little not-really-annoyed-but-pretending-to-be-anyway scowl that holds the same affection of Dick's smile. He can see that moment so clearly in his mind. How Dick would’ve said something like you can take a picture of me only if I can take a picture of you, and Damian would’ve rolled his eyes and then indulge the blackmail with a secret happiness.

He laughs heartily at the following four photos. They are a set of unfocused, very awkward selfies of Damian and Stephanie, with her being the head of the operation, since Damian's arms would be too short to even attempt it. Damian’s glaring in the first photo and openly laughing in the last one, and Stephanie had been quick, albeit a little imprecise, at capturing that moment. The result is a blurry picture with a very strange angle, but it’s still one of Tim’s favorite.

There are a lot of pictures of Bruce. At first they were taken from a distance, and they portray him from behind, or busy doing something else: bending over his desk to write a letter, sitting in the armchair reading a book, standing in the kitchen with Alfred sipping a tea. They all give the idea of stolen moments, even if Bruce had probably known what the kid was doing. Tim could see him playing along, waiting for Damian to decide what worked best for him.

And of course Damian had eventually decided to make Bruce a part of the new hobby. The other shots still have a formal setting, very different from the spontaneity of the photos of Dick and Stephanie, but Bruce smiles in almost all of them and there’s a complicity and a quiet happiness that makes Tim’s heart ache. He misses Bruce. And he can only imagine how much Damian’s missing him too, how all this time apart is affecting him, his memories, his relationship with Bruce.

Tim brushes a cold fingertip over the pictures and wishes he could fix, if not everything, at least some of it. They can’t have Dick back, but Bruce is still there, still alive, and breathing, and living a life that doesn’t include them anymore, and if anything, it hurts almost as much as believing him to be dead.

He takes a quick look at all the photos again and he wonders how it is possible that none of them ever realized how important those moments were, how much they would have missed them once they were gone. For all the unspoken things and the cruel past, for all the miscommunications and the fights and the bickering, the truth of what there used to be between them as a family it’s just there in his hands: it was love, love and nothing else.

He hopes that Damian can see it too.

He flips through the pictures one last time, and this time he’s forced to notice how there are no photos of himself, or of Jason, for that matter. It shouldn't have been unexpected, but it stings anyway, even if only a little bit.

Tim’s considering what to do with the photos, if put them in their box and hide it again, or leave everything here on the coffee table for Damian to find, when he hears soft footsteps behind his back and the decision is taken out of his hands.

“Hey”, he says when the kid circumnavigates the couch to come standing in front of him.

“Want some tea?”, Tim offers, lifting his own cup.

Damian shakes his head no and curls up next to Tim, tucking his bare feet under him. He looks still half asleep, which is kind of a blessing right now. Tim has a good feeling about how Damian will take the news of the existence of those illegitimate copies of his pictures, but you never know.

“Mine are still in my room back at home, I believe”, Damian whispers, as he reaches out for the box. Tim lets him have it, and watches him closely as the boy collects all the pictures in his hands.

“Alfred would never let anyone touch your room while you’re away”, he reassures him, and since Damian’s just got to the picture of Dick, he slings an arm around the boy’s shoulders and pulls him closer.

“We’re going to need an album for them”, he says gently. “Like one of those Alfred has back home. We can make a new family album or something. Show it to him once everything goes back to normal, you know?”

Damian nods as he leans against Tim’s chest. He’s still warm from the bed, and his hair is a mess, but also soft under Tim’s chin. He’s wearing one of Jason’s old shirt because for the second week in a row Tim forgot to do the laundry, and he smells like Dick’s aftershave because that’s what Jason’s using now.

Tim holds Damian a bit closer. They are all trying to pick up the pieces as best as they can. It’s not easy.

“We could go to the park tomorrow”, he adds, because why not. “Bring Jason with us. Take some new photos for your album. What do you say?”

Damian moves closer to him, eyes still transfixed on Dick’s face.

“Yes”, he answers softly. “I would like that.”

[hencethebravery]

TITLE: First Family (1/1)

SUMMARY: It's not as if Killian Jones believes his husband to be incapable of winning the presidency (quite the opposite, actually)─he's just not entirely certain he wants him to. A CC 2020 Election AU. (Ao3)

NOTES: This particular story is meant to be entirely cute and in celebration of the prospect of having a “First Gentleman” (see recent Time magazine cover). It is not at all meant to be an endorsement of any one candidate, and if you come at me with anything other than love for these two boys and their dog, I will unhinge my jaw and swallow you whole. I developed Jasmine’s last name from a princess who appeared in The Book of One Thousand and One Nights (on whom Jasmine is based, or so Wikipedia tells me). Oh, and another small disclaimer, this is the first time I’ve included Emma Swan in a Captain Charming fic. For whatever reason I used to struggle with including her, but I guess I’m over it because she’s here now. If you think that’ll bother you then give this one a miss!

If the chronically thin, awkward, and punk-ass 15 year old version of Killian Jones could have, somehow, opened a portal in time and space; a feat which might have allowed him to peer into the future in an attempt to witness what the future might hold, he would have likely imbibed several ill-advised shots of cheap bloody rum, and then quite dramatically flung himself atop the rumpled sheets of his perpetually unmade bed. If the younger Jones had even an inkling of the type of life he’d be living as a 35 year old man─with a full time job, a mortgage, a husband, one wildly photogenic dog─he would have done everything in his power to steer himself off such a disturbingly clean-cut, well-behaved course.

“Well and truly boring I’ve become, isn’t that right my love?”

Dave, the husband in question, sat comfortably in his usual corner of the couch, reading glasses perched at the end of his nose, putzing about on their shared iPad, paying less and less attention by the minute, “Oh, absolutely. Can’t stand you.”

The only reason he brings it up at all is because he has, somewhat unexpectedly, been rather unsettled by the prospect of a life change so massive, he has had no other choice but to reconcile with the fact that the quiet life he has managed to build for himself could, quite likely, be completely destroyed. Forever. Never to be found again. Relegated only to a memory that he’ll return to in his twilight years, a decrepit old thing. “Ah yes,” he would mumble, smacking his lips together in that way the elderly tend to do, “I remember when you could watch an entire 48 hours of television, totally unbothered!”

It’s not as if he legitimately wants to keep his husband, arguably the love his life, from doing what he’s meant to, and clearly, the man’s meant for greatness, but Killian has become accustomed to a certain standard of living. He likes (much to his younger self’s hypothetical horror) doing the same things everyday─up with the sun, cup of coffee, walk the dog, go to school, come home, make dinner, watch Netflix, go to bed. He likes weekend drives to the country; hikes in the morning, beers in the afternoon. He enjoys the calm, safe predictability of his life that he has so miraculously found in the wake of a rather tumultuous, traumatic youth.

“Killian,” David insisted gently, “you’re my husband. Obviously, if you don’t want me to do this, I won’t do it.”

The maddening part is that he knows with absolute certainty that he’s telling the truth. David Nolan wasn’t the resentful type─it was something he both simultaneously loved and hated about the man.

“I swear, darling, the last thing I want to do is hold you back,” Killian replied, frustrated with his own lack of enthusiasm, “I just…”

“...It’s a big change,” David finished, “I know. Honestly,” he continued, “I probably won’t even win.”

“Sure,” Killian scoffed, a smirk on his face, “that’s exactly what you said last time.”

5  Y E A R S  E A R L I E R

“I JUST THINK IT’S FUNNY!” Killian yells over the deafening cheers, one arm slung round Dave’s shoulders, the other waving wildly in the air.

“WHAT?” David shouts back, his mouth turned upwards in a somewhat manic, and what was fast becoming alarmingly permanent, grin.

“IT’S FUNNY!” he repeats, the volume of his voice doing little to bely the patience in his tone. He finds a few of their friends’ faces in the crowd and blows them a kiss, his cheeks starting to hurt with the force and breadth of his own smile.

“WHAT IS?”

Killian couldn’t help rolling his eyes at the absurdity of their attempting to hold a conversation at all at a time like this, but he’d never been one to keep from saying, “I told you so,” when the opportunity presented itself. That said, it was quite the ruckus, and he had simply shaken his head in surrender, silently promising to rub it in at a later date.

To be fair to David’s humility, a mayoral race and a presidential race are two vastly different undertakings, particularly when the mayoral position in question involved a municipality of around 100,000 people, which while a large enough amount, was quite small in comparison to the rest of the country. But at the same time, given what Killian knew about his husband, he had a hard time believing that the rest of the country wouldn’t be able to see what he saw─if they were able to get past the “First Gentleman” of it all, that is.

Killian would be lying if he said he didn’t have something of a pessimistic streak. Certainly, it had grown quieter over the years, especially since meeting David (and his subsequent election to political office in a small midwestern city), but the presidential election of about 3 years prior, coupled with the many national tragedies and constitutional crises, had “awoken the dragon,” so to speak.

“You’ve been watching way too much ‘Game of Thrones.’”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

David and Killian had agreed from the very start─whomever ran in 2020 would have to be and do more than the average candidate. The only way to remind the country and the world of who they really were as a nation was to commit a complete and total act of repudiation with a substantive majority vote.

“You know everyone and their mom is gonna run,” Emma Swan, David’s campaign manager, had joked in the weeks following the 2016 election, after all of their emotional wounds had felt somewhat soothed. Alcohol helped.

“Ah, yes,” Killian agreed, taking a sip of whiskey, “I can feel the splitting migraine already.”

Looking back, David’s silence in that moment had been suspicious, and if he and Emma hadn’t gotten absolutely wrecked in preparation for an upcoming election cycle that would inevitably last what would feel like a decade, he would have prodded a bit further. In fact, if he had prodded, maybe he wouldn’t be so woefully unprepared for the, “I’m thinking of running for President of the United States,” conversation.

Immediately before the panic had set in, what he had actually felt was pride. Regretfully however, panic will-out, and in the midst of his initial tittering he forgot to effectively relay that initial emotion, which was for David he was sure, far more preferable.

In the early stages of the mayoral race, Emma had been adamant on the point of storytelling. According to her, elections were won and lost on a candidate’s ability to tell a story─about themselves, their campaign, their vision for the community─and if David was going to run, an openly gay man (albeit white as they come) from a working class background with little name recognition, the story he told would have to be good. Thankfully there was the military record, that usually played well with an older, more conservative crowd, and it wasn’t as if he was a stranger to hard work─the necessity of family, community, the like. He’d lived there his whole life, people knew who he was, however… unfamiliar they were with his “lifestyle.”

Killian had been far more concerned about himself being one of the factors that could lose Dave the race. The two of them had yet to be married at the time, despite having lived together for several years, and while Killian had lived in America for much of his adulthood, he hadn’t been born there. He was also openly bisexual, had a mostly benign criminal record, and had gotten into his share of fairly public tiffs with some less... "progressive" members of their community. One of them had even been filmed─and gone viral.

“Aren’t you the least bit worried about dragging that all back up again?” Killian had asked during their first informal meeting with Emma. The kind of discussion that started with things like, "We're not having this conversation, but if we were," etc., etc.

“After this President?” Emma scoffed, a gleam in her eye, “It’ll only help.”

Killian should’ve guessed, after seeing David’s quick, knowing glance, that he’d been found out. That it wasn’t the loss of their current lives that he truly fretted over; his inability to walk down the street unmolested, but rather a deep-seated worry of his own value as a partner. He worried, as he had during Dave’s first campaign, that he would only weigh him down.

At some point in the near future, some invasive young journalist is going to ask Killian about the spousal sacrifices. They’re going to want to know, as the spouse of the first openly gay presidential candidate, what do you anticipate giving up? And how, if at all, has he made peace with their new reality? In point of fact, the first concession that Killian had made (up until the whole, “running for leader of the free world,” business that is) was his surrender of the coast.

Killian had never really had roots─there was never a physical home with four walls and a roof overhead to which he could depart and return, over and over again. It could never even be said that he had any people to which he might turn instead; he had a brother, Liam, but they’d never been particularly close, and their history was tense at best and outright antagonistic at worst. All this to say, it was part of the reason why he had given Her up (the sea). Because Dave, most curiously, would become his home in a way he had never thought possible. It was how he was able to make a compromise─to go without the sight of the waves lapping against the rocks in favor of a large, wraparound porch, with some admittedly stunning views of the trees and hills that surrounded their home.

It was where he happened to be sitting the morning after their first casual, "meeting but not a meeting," with Emma; a mug of cooling coffee in his hand, watching Sally sniffing to and fro in the damp grass. It was an otherwise normal morning aside from the impending dose of reality he had yet to fully face. He was in the midst of a perfectly somber and on brand bit of mindless staring when he heard the quiet rumbling of Dave’s early morning voice (a personal favorite of his).

“Hey,” he said, startling Killian out of his ironically stressful meditations. “Sorry,” he said with a laugh, taking a seat beside him on the porch swing, “I didn’t feel you get up this morning.”

“My apologies, love,” Killian answered with a brief kiss, “I didn’t want to wake you.”

There was no crying of gulls, and you couldn’t taste a hint of salt on your lips, but there was still the pleasant chirping of birds; the sight of the sun peeking over the tops of the trees, the heady smell of blooming flowers. Killian cleared his throat, both knowing and dreading the conversation he could no longer avoid.

“You have never,” David began, very astutely avoiding his husband’s nervous glances for the moment, “been something to be ashamed of.”

“For you to even think it,” he continued, giving a slight shake of his head, “I must be doing something wrong.”

“Dave, no─”

“Killian,” he interrupted, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, “you are the person I admire most in the world. You are the exact kind of person this country needs to see right now.”

A bit dramatic, Killian thought, desperately attempting to quell the violent beating of his own heart. Despite having known David for as long as he did, he was still somewhat overwhelmed by the sheer goodness of him. Having spent so long himself in a place of defensive cynicism, it was still a challenge to be so unabashedly confronted by such unrelenting hope. That’s what the country needs.

“I know it took us both a long time to make it…” He pauses, glancing up at the trees, the dog now slumbering at their feet, “here, but─”

“I couldn’t possibly adore you more than I already do,” Killian finished, abandoning his cold coffee in favor of framing David’s flushed face, “and I will be there every step of the way.”

“‘For better or for worse,’ blah, blah, blah?”

“Yes,” Killian laughed, pressing their lips together, “something like that.”

The secret? Say “yes,” to fucking everything. That seems to be the fundamental step when you have absolutely zero name recognition and you’re under the age of 75. It’s Emma’s first rule, and she fanatically demands that they abide by it unless she says otherwise. “Let’s let the paint dry on Fox for a hot second,” she suggests after Killian exclaims, “Surely not everything.”

But she damn well means enough. Everything from small, independent news blogs run by journalists, to “serious” news media, to BuzzFeed, and everything in between.

“One of these things is going to just,” she snaps her fingers. “And then it’s all over, boys.”

It’s during an interview with a fairly well known political podcast that really sets them on that, “nothing will be the same after this,” trajectory. He’d essentially been laughed out of the room until he sat down at a table with one of the unnecessarily handsome, affable hosts and dropped stat, after stat, after quip, after poignant observation─after some light hearted jokes that proved he wasn’t living in the dark ages.

“And I hate to ask this,” the host began, the hesitancy evident in his voice, “but what do you say to people who argue that you just don’t have enough experience for the job?”

After a brief pause, during which Killian could observe the wheels spinning from where he sat quietly in the corner of the room, David spoke. In that way he always had of speaking. That way that could convince anyone to listen to what he had to say.

“To that I think I would consider the importance of humility,” a chuckle, “I never want to be one of those people that believes they have nothing left to learn, but at the same time, to claim I have, ya know, ‘no experience,’ whether that’s because of my age, or the size of my city, is just… I don’t know, disingenuous?”

The host laughs a bit at that, “You mean to say, what precisely is their ‘concern?’”

“Yeah, I mean, we knew going into this we might create a few… waves─I don't know if you were aware, but, I am in fact very attracted to other men."

They left the sound of Killian’s obnoxious and embarrassing snort in the recording, which actually ended up being a good thing. Positive polling based on the sound of incredulity? It was strange, the small details that people seemed to cling to.

“But seriously, and this is what I believe, is that the individual experiences of every single person living in this country makes them… invaluable to understanding how it should,” he shakes his head, searching for the right word, “...exist, or be run. So, these people who are concerned about my experience, it’s not a lie for them to say that I haven’t worked at the federal level, or that I haven’t run a federal agency or served in Congress, but my experiences are valuable, my identity is valuable, and I think it’s something the people of this country deserve to see. Even if I’m not the one they choose.”

The tension at the back of Killian’s throat made swallowing a tad painful, but he had to do something to stop himself from crying, which would be… regrettable (although, once the polling had come out about the snort, maybe it wouldn’t have been such a bad thing after all). Crying in front of all these cool, young politicos. But at that moment, at the close of his husband’s small speech, the hopeful grin on the face of the host, the other people in the room─hell, even Emma’s radiant expression, he locked eyes with David and he knew. Snap.

First Family

Mayor David Nolan and the Rebranding of Hope

May 2, 2019

by Jasmine Badur

“I’m not sure I truly believed in ‘hope’ before I met him,” Killian Jones, the potentially first, “First Gentleman,” had somewhat reluctantly revealed in one of our early conversations. “I don’t think I necessarily knew I didn’t at the time,” he paused, giving his ear a nervous tug, “but once I got to know him… I certainly seemed to understand what it was I’d been missing.”

I was invited out to the Jones-Nolan household by Mayor Nolan’s campaign manager, Ms. Emma Swan, a woman who has proven herself to be quite formidable in our current political landscape. “If you really want to know him, them,” she had insisted during one of our many phone calls, “you’ve gotta see them where they live.”

And so, here I am, on a warm, sunny day, greeted by the pleasant sight of a rather long, winding driveway lined with tall, leaf-laden trees. The house itself is also surrounded by quite a bit of lush greenery, which, as Killian explained, was purposeful. Apparently the two men value their privacy, which is pretty ironic, considering.

“Yes, yes, I know,” he answered, unprovoked, “pretty bloody funny.”

The couple’s dog, Sally, runs down the porch steps as I exit my car, and I can hear Mayor Nolan call her name from inside the house. Despite the somewhat grandiose nature of the extended driveway, the house itself is modest, with little in the way of fuss. Both men greet me at the door, and I’m immediately offered a drink or a snack by the Mayor himself.

“He’s worse than my grandmother,” Ms. Swan half shouts from another room, after which David (“Please, call me David”) huffs and playfully rolls his eyes. “We’re like a family here,” he explains, leading me into their warm, sun-drenched kitchen, “I don’t think I know any other way to do this, to be honest.”

“This,” of course, being the campaign. The reason I’ve shown up here at all, to share this historical candidacy with a country that has proven to be far more interested than David expected it to be.

“The truth is, no,” he admitted over our tea, “I didn’t really expect this.”

A turn about the house reveals a number of familiar sights─a mix of running shoes and formalwear lined up by the door, coats on their hooks, framed photos on the mantle or hanging on the fridge. I note a young Emma in a number of these photos, to which David confirms their personal history, that of being pseudo-siblings, which most people are tangentially aware of, but the way David explains, it has a lot more to do with his campaign than you might think.

Soon after Emma Swan had moved to town to live with her aforementioned grandmother, she had met David at school, and the two quickly became inseparable.

“My grandma was a sweet lady,” Emma had shared, albeit reluctantly, “but she was pretty old. Not really prepared to have a young kid. David and his mom became my family, more or less.” When I’ve spoken to others who knew the Nolans, the stories seem to follow a similar thread. It was nearly impossible to know them and not be treated as if they had known you your entire life.

“That was what my mother believed,” David says, a resolute smile on his face, “everyone deserves to have a family.”

It might seem an unusual tactic for the candidate to take, but having spoken with Emma Swan, and having spent time with David and Killian in their home, I’m not so sure the harsher criticisms are especially valid.

“He’s a bit inclined to picking up strays, isn’t he?” Killian starts, politely if not vaguely uncomfortable. The two of us are walking through the field behind their house, and truly, it is a beautiful piece of land. “And what are we all,” he finishes, somewhat distantly, “if not a country of wanderers?"

Most people have a general understanding of Killian’s background. Born in London to an absent single mother who passed when he was about 17, a brother serving in the Royal Navy; teaches literature, unreasonably handsome, perhaps inclined to appear in viral videos─“Surprised you lasted this long,” he says, laughing. “Haven’t you lot gotten sick of that story yet?”

Unfortunately for Killian, though somewhat fortuitously for the campaign, that now famous clip, of the man in question throwing an unequivocal fist into the cheekbone of a far-right activist, has earned him some degree of popularity in progressive circles, though he contends he had absolutely no plans for such an outcome.

“It was satisfying before the entire country knew about it,” he concludes, with a blend of both seriousness and charm that can be challenging for most people to pull off. “And I’d do it again in a bloody heartbeat.”

“God bless Killian Jones,” Emma had sighed when I’d first mentioned it to her, “that man’s righteous anger could be the thing that gets us elected.”

Killian himself isn’t quite ready to admit that, but he is glad to help his husband in anyway he can, even at the expense of his own anonymity. Which, he did admit, was a serious concern at first.

“We’d spent so many years searching for this,” he explained, glancing pointedly at our surroundings, the sight of their now smoking chimney peeking over the tops of the trees. “I wasn’t sure I was ready to give it up.”

But now, he says, the doubts seem to have all but faded.

“There’s always moments of insecurity, sure,” he admits, “but I think it’s worth it.”

The Nolan-Jones household is cluttered─but not in a way that might leave you feeling suspicious of their character. True, it’s cluttered in a way you might not presume a presidential candidate’s house to be. Maybe you would consider the “right candidate,” to be so obnoxiously Type A that their home be something akin to a serial killer’s lair. If that is what you were expecting, I am sorry to say that his house is very much not that. This house is cluttered in a way that our lives create clutter. Like their "family-oriented" campaign style, the ordinariness of their home and their lives prior to this event, reveals quite a bit more than you might think. We exist in a day and age seemingly obsessed with the idea of authenticity, and while I've grown to despise the word, it seems to have been given new life here, even though their kitchen did happen to smell of freshly baked cookies during my visit.

At the end of the day, no one knows how this campaign is going to shake out. Politics have never been predictable, no matter what many pundits and strategists claim, but if there’s one thing we might always learn to expect, it is that "electability" is a true falsehood. I don’t know if Mayor David Nolan will become the first openly gay President of the United States, and neither does he, but that doesn’t seem to be the point.

“It may seem trite to some, but it is about hope,” David said in the few moments before I left, hands resting in his pockets, his gaze tired yet contented, “I think our 44th president had that part right.”

In an era of such unrelenting cynicism, it can be difficult to find the silver lining of it all, but as I drove back down the long, winding driveway in the moonlight, the sight of Killian Jones and David Nolan waving in my rearview mirror, my heart felt a little less heavy.

Jasmine Badur is a freelance political correspondent with Time, BuzzFeed News, and others. She is currently on the road following a number of Democratic candidates running for President, including Mayor David Nolan. She can be found on Twitter @badurjofficial.

[tnffc]

Steter with 21? I love your writing so much btw!!

Ok so, I hope I used the right propt post, which would mean this was “best friend’s sibling au”

It took me quite some time to come up with a version here that worked for me but I am finally done!

So have some very alternative steter:

_________________________________________

Stiles grinned when he saw the beautiful house in the woods come into view.

And he grinned even wider when he saw his best friend Derek step out onto the front porch as he parked his old jeep next to the two other cars.

He got out and Derek shook his head with a smile.

“I can’t believe you are still driving that old thing, it’s a miracle it hasn’t broken apart right underneath your butt yet.”

Stiles patted roscoe’s hood.

“Don’t listen baby, he couldn’t understand the bond we share.”

That made the werewolf raise his eyebrows in the trademark Hale way.

“Should I be jealous?”

After Stiles got his duffle back out of the trunk he jogged up the stairs and went right in for a bear hug with Derek.

“Don’t worry dude, you’ll always be my number one best friend.”

He felt the warm, throaty laugh from Derek rumbling through both their chests and a reassuring hand in the middle of his back.

“I am glad to know that. Now come in dumbass, dinner is almost ready.”

~*~

Catching up with Derek and eating home made burgers was awesome and Stiles just then realized how much he had missed being able to do that while both of them had been away for college.

Time had flown by so fast and before they knew it it had almost been two years since they last had had physical contact.

Of course they had texted and skyped now and then, but it just wasn’t the same as hanging out and spending some quality time.

Derek had gotten even taller and broader it seemed, but Stiles realized he himself had grown as well, because now he was almost Derek’s height, although nowhere near his general size.

And of course werewolf physique meant the guy was able to maintain his muscled appearance just by being.

But Stiles had long stopped envying that. He was doing alright himself, college had taught him that much.

“You got really good at preparing food dude, I was worried all you might eat in college was raw meat from animals you hunted yourself or something.”

Derek grinned.

“I had a short ramen noodle phase, but then I met Braeden and she introduced me to the passion of preparing food, especially for others.”

Stiles smiled as his friend talked about the woman he loved and at the same time really wished he had somebody who made him smile that way.

“Man, you have to introduce her to me while I am visiting. I want to get to know the person that has you grinning like that. She must be amazing.”

Derek kept grinning and his cheeks turned a little red “She really is.”

Stiles took a gulp from his soda before putting it back down.

“I am so glad you got someone, you deserve all the happiness in the world.”

And Derek looked down onto his plate with a soft smile.

“Thank you, Stiles.”

“Only the truth buddy.”

~*~

They were sitting in the living room and playing video games like back in school. Normally A werewolf would easily beat a human, but Stiles’ mother had been the pack’s emissary before she died and Stiles had inherited her magical powers, so he always used a little bit of magic to level the playing field.

It was only fair.

Derek said “Someone just arrived” and moments later the front door opened and not long after someone walked into the living room.

“Derek, who is parking in my usu-”

Peter Hale, looking just as delicious as Stiles remembered, wearing a white v-neck, leather jacket and skinny jeans looked down at Stiles.

Stiles, who was ungracefully sitting on the floor with the controller in hand like a goblin with a treasure and the chewed up lid of his bottle of soda between his teeth.

Derek cleared his throat.

“Peter, you remember Stiles? My best friend from school?”

Peter smirked.

“Oh right, the fact you are chewing on plastic should have reminded me. Even though I was mostly away in college during Derbear’s high school years.”

Derek rolled his eyes.

“Don’t call me that. You were mostly away partying if anything. Just in case your memory is as bad as his, this is Peter my quasi big brother.”

Stiles nodded.

“Yeah I remember. He is actually your uncle, but only six years older than you and you grew up like siblings. And if I remember correctly you were studying to become a lawyer. right?”

Peter and Derek both gave him the Hale eyebrows of curiosity.

Derek with a side of judgement, Peter with a side of- something…

“Yes.” Peter confirmed then “You are correct. I’m actually on a good way to becoming county attorney.”

At that Derek pretended to fall asleep and snored loudly.

“Go brag somewhere else asshole, we want to continue playing the game.”

Peter shrugged “I have work to do anyway.” and then turned on the spot to go upstairs.

Stiles looked at his back -and ass- as he left.

When he was certain Peter was upstairs and would not hear him whispering he looked up to his friend.

“So since he’s still living here, Peter hasn’t chosen a mate yet?”

Derek made a face at the question.

“Ewww Stiles, please tell me you aren’t thinking about boning my brother.”

Stiles tilted his head.

“Yeah I guess that would be weird huh?”

For a moment Derek just stared into nothing and then he sighed deeply.

“No…I get why you would…you two would actually kind of fit together…it’s just…he is not the type to settle down and I really don’t want to get caught in the crossfire when it ends badly.”

Interesting.

“I get what you mean, but nothing could ever change the friendship we have. And I am not looking to settle down either. What I find fascinating is the fact you aren’t at all doubting he would be into me.”

Derek snorted.

“You are Hale catnip Stiles. Have you forgotten Cora, Laura and my cousin Anthony? Mum would probably consider you her favorite child if that was socially acceptable and we have been best friends since first day of kindergarten. Of course Peter would be into you.”

Yes Stiles remembered how obsessed the entire Hale family was with him. He had actually considered Peter a bit of an exception because the guy had never given him as much as a second glance.

“Huh…” he said non-committal and then turned back to the game.

“My turn, I chose rainbow road.”

Derek groaned and let his head fall back onto the couch cushions.

“You really are just as much of an asshole as Peter…”

~*~

When it was 3am Stiles and Derek both decided it was time to head to bed.

The days of pulling all-nighters just for fun were behind them it seemed.

But it had still been a great day and Stiles was looking forward to the next two days.

He also slept in the guest room this time, mostly because he didn’t want to bother them get out a mattress and bedding and shove all that into Derek’s room when there was a perfectly ok bed to sleep in.

He didn’t need the high school experience that badly.

They wished each other goodnight and Stiles went to unpack what he needed for the night.

A sniff at his shirt then told him he really should take a shower before bed.

He wouldn’t want to insult anybody’s sensitive nose after all.

In his boxers and with a towel he made his way to the bathroom only to find Peter in his pajama pants already waiting in front of it.

The door was locked and there was the noise of the running shower coming from the inside.

He rubbed his neck.

“So Derek beat us to it I assume, shouldn’t take long…”

Peter shook his head.

“It’s Laura, she apparently decided to sleep over since she has a case here. Even though her office would definitely pay for a hotel.”

You could hear the frustration in the guy’s voice and Stiles tilted his head.

“You don’t like your sister staying over?”

Stiles got a thickly sweet smile back, he knew Peter probably used it with difficult people at work all the time.

“She has the habit to take forever and to use up all the warm water.”

Yeah ok, that was a bit annoying.

“I see.”

They stood there for a while in silence.

Then finally Stiles decided that was getting too awkward.

He tried to come up with a harmless conversation starter.

Unfortunately the first thing that came to mind while looking at Peter was maybe not the best question for that.

He apparently had stared too long because Peter caught his eyes and gave him a sly smile.

“Take a picture darling, I am very photogenic.”

“I thought werewolf eyes ruin the shot…”

There was a soft chuckle.

“You can learn to control it. I can’t be a public figure and all my pictures turn out bad.”

That made sense.

“Smart. I was actually kind of wondering where your pack tattoo is…but I feel like that might be an insensitive question.”

Peter seemed to consider his response while staring at Stiles.

“Most werewolves put it on a relatively good visible spot so they can be identified as part of their respective pack. I prefer to keep my cards a bit closer. It is on the inside of my left thigh. I-”

Before Peter could say whatever he had wanted to say next the door of the bathroom flew open.

“Oh my god Peter, I swear if you offer Stiles to show him your tattoo I am going to barf. I can smell both of your interest through the fucking door.”

Peter glared at her.

“Is there warm water left?”

She gave him a mean grin “Maybe a little, have fun asshole. Good night Stiles, great to see you again. And if you let Peter fuck you I’ll be disappointed.”

And with that she left both of them.

They gave each other a glance and Peter went to see if the water still ran hot.

“She didn’t lie. Maybe you should go first Stiles, I will survive taking a cold shower.”

Wow, considering what Derek and the others usually said about Peter that was uncharacteristically considerate.

The man seemed to read his thoughts.

“Don’t take all they say at face value Stiles. I can be very nice if I think somebody deserves it.”

Stiles was a bit confused.

“And I do?”

Peter came closer and grinned.

“You haven’t given me a reason to think otherwise. Now take the offer or leave it before I decide I’m an unredeemable asshole after all.”

His thoughts were running fast to come to a decision and suddenly he had a terrible, aweful, delightful idea.

He gave Peter a sly grin himself and stepped into the man’s space.

“We could always just share. Might be a good opportunity to show me that tattoo.”

Peter did not step back and instead licked his lips.

“What about Derek? Or Laura’s disapproval?”

Stiles made another step and their bodies touched, chest to chest, face to face.

“Derek said we would be a good fit and who says I have to be the one getting fucked. Unless you aren’t up for it.”

Peter’s eyes were full of mischievous joy.

“I am up alright.”

“Then let’s get clean.”

[byunnct]

cute cat, cute boyfriend [jeno nct]

pairing: lee jeno x reader

summary: jeno is a big fan of your cat and secretly a big fan of you. college!au

a/n: since i don’t have time to write a full fic but have been in the mood to write i thought i’d have a go at bullet point scenarios :D this was inspired by that viral tweet ‘whenever im sad i text this girl to show me her cat’!! hope it isn’t too bad <3

so you have a cat, a beautiful ragdoll cat, lovingly named cracker

and you have no idea why or how but certain places on your college campus allow residents to have pets

you’re not complaining because it means you were able to bring your lil friend from back home with you to college

and she has the brightest blue eyes that your best friend renjun swears hypnotises people into giving her treats

the top of her head, around her ears and just under her jaw, is an ashy grey with some parts a slightly darker grey

the rest of her is white

she’s the most elegant feline ever and her tail has a sassy sway to it whenever she walks around your dorm

at the beginning of the year someone created an instagram page dedicated to the campus’s pets and it was instantly popular

even endorsed by the college itself because it’s a pure expression of admiration and love for students’ pets and really what’s better than that

so your roommate submitted pictures she took of your cat to go onto the page after you offhandedly mentioned that cracker would be the most popular pet on the page

you were not wrong

cracker instantly captured everyone’s attention and became the most liked picture on the account to the point where the owner of the page messaged ur roommate to ask for more pictures (“i told you! it’s the eyes, i swear! she’s like a witch!” –renjun)

people on campus even started approaching your roommate to ask about the cat and she had to direct them all to you, each person asking you to start your own instagram page for your little popular queen

you said no every time because you’re a struggling college student who spends all her time in college or working to earn money which is then spent on ur damn cat you don’t have time to run an instagram account for her

and she’s already spoiled enough you don’t want to boost cracker’s ego too much

unbeknownst to you, jeno fell completely in love with cracker the second he saw her on the Instagram page (jeno, an avid visitor of the campus pet instagram page) and would always whine to his friends about how cute the cat is

since he’s allergic he can’t own them himself and his roommate, jaemin, uses this excuse every time jeno even BEGINS thinking about owning a pet

every time a new picture of cracker was posted on the campus instagram page he’d get so excited and be the first to comment and like

he’d get teased by his friends too because essentially jeno was a really big fan of cat, an animal, compared to donghyuck who would be freaking out over the new red velvet selfie – they’re in different worlds

BUT jeno can’t get over how enchanting cracker’s large eyes are, how fluffy her tail is, how photogenic a CAT is and he’s completely enamoured by your little feline

so one night there’s a big party to celebrate the end of the first term but you sadly can’t go since you don’t feel too good and don’t want to make yourself worse

it’s also cracker’s birthday and the SECOND you coughed and your throat felt scratchy you knew it was a sign from the gods to stay home and celebrate w your cat

your roommate goes tho, after feeding cracker one too many treats as a birthday gift, and since you offered to pick her up if need be she said she’ll text you later

at midnight you get a text from an unknown number

[00:17am, UNKNOWN]: heyyyyyyyyyyy

you think its your roommate texting from someone else’s phone because hers died so you respond instantly with ‘you good?’

[00:20am, UNKNOWN]: im great havea quesiotn

[00:20am, you]: shoot

[00:21am, UNKNOWN]: sned ur cat

[00:22am, you]: what? Call me

your phone rings a minute later and when you answer

it’s not your roommate

it’s a boy you’ve never heard before and he’s mumbling incoherently and it worries you

not only because you were expecting your roommate but because this guy sounds absolutely GONE and you can picture him swaying from side to side due to intoxication

you ask him his name about ten times before you get an actual answer: jeno

you recognise the name as one of renjun’s friends so you know you can at least trust him to some extent

he keeps saying ‘send your cat’ and you don’t quite know what he means so when you ask him he says

“i love your cat”

that’s it. He keeps repeating ‘send your cat’ and ‘i love your cat’ and no matter what else you say to him, ‘go drink some water!’ ‘where are you?’ ‘do you need me to call someone?’, he keeps going on about cracker and you look at the cat lying next to you, lazily cleaning her paws, and hang up on him

you take the party hat you had taken pictures of her in earlier and put it back on her head, telling her you’re sorry you have to put it back on and promise her treats if she sits still, and bring up the camera app on your phone

then you go back to your messages and send two of the best pictures you took of her to this jeno guy, hoping you’re understanding him correctly and that you can convince him to listen to you after he’s seen the picture

the response you get is a bunch of keyboard smashes

you call him back and he’s.. crying? kind of? he sounds choked up but he’s so drunk you wouldn’t be surprised if he actually was crying from happiness

he’s much more willing to listen to you after seeing cracker and keeps telling you how cute she is and it sounds like he’s trying to stand up from wherever he is from the shuffling on the other end of the call

then there’s more shuffling and another voice, much more sober, comes through the receiver

“im so sorry, whoever you are. jeno’s a mess. im taking him home now, im his roommate, he’s ok. bye.”

and the call ends

you go to sleep, still a little worried for jeno, but your worries are quashed when you wake up because jeno has texted you again

much more sober and embarrassed

[11:57am, UNKNOWN]: im so sorry omg

[11:57am, UNKNOWN]: you must hate me haha

[11:57am, UNKNOWN]: i got too drunk sorry you can block my number if you want

[11:57am, UNKNOWN]: thank u for the cat pictures tho im a big fan

your heart warms at the texts because he seems to feel guilty and it’s endearing, and then you smile when you read the text about your cat

you reply telling him it’s ok, you’re not mad at all and you’re glad he got home safe, but how did he get your number? you’ve never spoken before?

he explains that he has memory of drunk jeno asking renjun for your number, to which he was bluntly rejected and told no, and then asked around the party for who has your number until he stumbled upon someone who gave it to him with a wink

[13:10pm, JENO?]: i think people think i was trying to make a move on you haha

jeno apologises about twelve more times throughout the conversation and you tell him it’s ok every time

and ask if a picture of cracker will make him feel better

…to which he responds yes instantly

and from then on even though you and jeno barely know each other, your only connection renjun and now your cat, a bond formed

jeno would text you at random times with random messages asking for a picture of cracker

and if you were able to you were more than happy to oblige

renjun thought it was really weird that you two became almost..friends… just through occasionally texting and sending pictures of an animal to him

jaemin initially thought jeno finally got a significant other since whenever he’d look at him jeno would be smiling at his phone, texting with quick fingers to respond to whoever he was talking to

renjun broke jaemin’s heart when he told him jeno was happy over a cat

but he pieced it back together when he mentioned the owner of the cat was an attractive female

this goes on for several months before one day you receive a text saying there’s a package available to be picked up for you? and you’re like? Who

so you go pick it up and when you get back to your dorm you cautiously open it to find an array of cat treats and cat toys

there’s even a little post-it note with a cute message for cracker

to cracker, the best kitty cat in all the land! im your biggest fan!! –jeno :)

you can’t help but smile at the post-it, your cheeks heating and a small riot of butterflies in your stomach

you chide yourself because you really don’t know this boy, if you think about it, and you shouldn’t be getting feelings over someone you’ve only ever spoken to in person once or twice

and the post-it was written to your cat, not you..so..

you glare slightly at cracker as she sniffs and noses at the treats on the table

but then take pictures of her with her mountain of gifts and send it to jeno with a bunch of heart emojis

jeno, eating lunch with his friends at the time, instantly smiles and blushes at your response, replying with smiley faces

jaemin, nudging jeno: that your gf?

renjun: if it’s the damn cat jeno i swear to god

jeno: uh

jeno doesn’t bother mentioning that although the cat pictures were cute, he was happier about the hearts you sent to him

a week later, you have another package delivery

its jeno again

the week after, another package. Jeno

the week after that, yet another package. who? jeno.

this goes on for at least another two months

you’re stocked on treats for cracker to last you the next several years

enough toys that your dorm is covered constantly, as if you own a toddler instead of a cat

your roommate thinks it’s the cutest thing ever that jeno is doing this and is CONVINCED that jeno is doing it for YOU, not for cracker

you, with red cheeks and looking at the floor to avoid eye contact: shut up u know nothing

until

it’s a dark day, a dark night, looming dark clouds stuck in the sky that threaten to unleash downpours at any second

and you’ve just left the vet that isn’t too far from your dorm

cracker isn’t with you

it was sudden, so abrupt you didn’t have time to process everything and you’re still slightly dazed

when you get back to your dorm your roommate is there, sitting with cups of tea ready for whatever you want to give her

she notices the absence of your best friend and understands instantly, hugging you gently as you lean into her and break down

cracker had fallen ill suddenly, by no fault of your own, and when you reached the vet you were already in tears with a tight stomach, as if you knew what was coming

the vet told you with sad eyes the best option was to leave cracker with her and let her do what she has to, to save cracker a lot of pain

after a teary but warm goodbye, you saw cracker for the last time

the following day, at such bad timing it felt like the world was laughing at you, you receive another package from jeno

you pick the package up but don’t open it

you ask your roommate to inform that stupid pet instagram about cracker, a bitter tone to your voice

even though cracker was your cat and so her death shouldn’t be anyone else’s business, you knew people would start asking questions if cracker no longer appeared on the page

you assume jeno will see the account’s post about the loss of cracker and he does, sending you a short but sweet message saying cracker was the best cat ever, which she was, and that she lived the best life with the best owner, which she did

you don’t reply though, too choked up to look at the message for too long

jeno asks renjun about you every day and a week or two later he’s glad to hear you’re feeling much better and are getting back into routine

one night, a friday, you’re in your dorm typing an essay when you hear a faint meow

you instantly ignore it, putting it down to you still not being quite used to complete silence in your dorm

but then you hear it again, and again, and it doesn’t sound like cracker’s meows

it sounds smaller, weaker almost, and like its coming from right outside your door

even though you’re still slightly convinced that you’re going insane you walk towards your door

you open it tentatively and just enough that you can use one eye to look into the hallway

and there

is a little black kitten

staring up at you

it’s the smallest thing, all black with bright green eyes that look too big for it’s body

and it lets out the same meow you had been hearing that you thought you were imagining

you open your door fully, bending down to gently pet the kitten and look around the hallway to find who left the kitten here

you scan the hallway a couple of times before you notice a head of black hair peeking from the end of the hallway, their eyes wide when you make eye contact with them

slowly, the person steps out from the wall they were hid behind to approach you

it’s jeno

you’re still in shock when he reaches you, and you just stare up at him with an open mouth

“do you like him?”

the words bring you back to earth and you nod before looking at the kitten again, asking, “is he mine?”

jeno nods and smiles widely, “all yours.”

you stand up with the kitten in your arms, the soft creature already snuggling and getting comfortable in your arms, “are you sure?”

jeno giggles at you and you realise he’s much more attractive than you remember, so handsome it makes you flustered

“the second i saw him i thought he’d be perfect for you. there’s something special about him.” jeno shrugs

when you look at the kitten again you repeatedly say thank you to jeno

you’re so surprised by this gift you’re not quite sure what to do with yourself

or what this means

but jeno seems to understand that even though you’re thankful you’re not sure where to go from here

so when he reaches over to very lightly smooth his fingertips over the kitten’s head, he says

“i thought this kitten could be our child. you can have full custody, though. i’ll just stay over on the weekends.”

and you can’t believe what you just heard

your child? stay over at the weekend?

you laugh a little in disbelief

“what does any of that even mean?”

jeno forces out a laugh and jiggles his shoulders slightly as if to compose himself

“this is my, obviously terrible, attempt at asking you on a date.”

oh

you’re in shock all over again, and jeno reaches behind his head to scratch his neck awkwardly

“i mean- you don’t have to. im not forcing you to-though the cat makes it seem like i am, doesn’t it? i don’t mean it like that, i swear. the kitten is yours i promise-“

when jeno sees you smiling at him he stops talking, eyebrows furrowed to show he doesn’t quite understand why you’re looking at him like that

“i’d love to go on a date with you, jeno.”

jeno nods at you several times as he processes the words, then says “great!” with a thumbs up

you smile at each other then, and it’s a warm atmosphere with the sleeping small kitten in your arms

after your first date, and many others, jeno, true to his word, starts staying over on the weekends to look after the kitten

by that i mean he uses the kitten and his ‘custody’ over him to stay over and cuddle with you

even if it means he sneezes aggressively every five minutes

[sweet-sammy-kisses]

Sastiel Love Week - Day 2

(I wrote way, way, way too much. It took me a while. Anyway, the idea behind the AU was that it was sort of meant to be an AU where Cas was a superhero, and Sam was a mostly ordinary citizen. Then, I decided to reflect canon, like a lot. so Angels are like symbiotes, instead of angels, and possess people and are similar to canon, except they’re alien, but like I don’t know. and Hunting is public knowledge, but hunters are consider heroes, and usually have powers, and in this AU angels are one of those methods of which people have powers. Also, Brady is fucked up and creepy in this. Well, I tried my best. I hope it’s at least even somewhat enjoyable. I think will do something shorter tomorrow.)

Sam was doing his daily morning jog, when he passed by the billboard, he passes them every day, but this one in particular, usually reserved for something about heroes, stopped him still. There, today, on the billboards, was an advertisement for HEAVEN in custom font, smooth, thick, black letters over their many-eyed logo, and beside ‘HEAVEN,’ was a new photogenic man, bright green eyes, freckles, plush lips in a smirk, male model features, and uncharacteristically, in a dark and elegant suit. That was.. Dean. And he was the new Michael Sword.

Sam left the family business, and Dean went straight to the top of it, obviously. Sam remembers their draconian childhood, no, training. They were treated more soldier than child by John, no matter how much he loved them. The family business was hunting the monsters that came out at night, and hid in the daylight, that all of humanity knew and feared, ‘heroing,’ as the public like to call it, although Sam and Dean and John were the furthest from typical hunters, furthest from what the people might imagine as ‘heroes’, and despite being probably some of the best, they kept themselves obscure. Most people who hunted had powers, or had unearthly patrons providing them the power and know-how. But the Winchesters didn’t have any of that. They had vengeance, and if you’re a Winchester, you don’t need much more. John was primarily after the thing that killed the mother that Sam couldn’t even remember, but they hunted anything as long as it wasn’t human, and caught their attention in a bad way.  Sam couldn’t stand it, the traveling, and the not fitting-in, and feeling like he didn’t even fit into his family’s black and white morality shaped world. So, he left for Stanford, after an argument with John, and he left, tears in his eyes as he told Dean, “Goodbye, I hope… I can see you again, Dean. But without all this..” But Dean couldn’t even look Sam in the eye, or maybe he did, and Sam didn’t see. Sam doesn’t like thinking about it.

HEAVEN was one of the biggest agencies of Heroes, they supported heroes until they eventually fully recruited them, and offered them an Angel, a symbiotic life-form, which would give them powers strong enough to take care of anything they might encounter. HEAVEN had great publicity, when you said anything about, ‘hunting monsters.’ They’d think about the glamorous and powerful HEAVEN, and all the great things HEAVEN has done, and all the lives it’s saved and improved. They’d think about their beautiful, saviors, ‘Trickster,’ ’King’s Knight,’ and, ‘Recovery,’ and more, and the most legendary of them all, ‘Michael Sword.’ The other Angels didn’t even compare to Michael, experiencing symbiosis with Michael and becoming the, ‘Michael Sword’ was a great honor, only capable for the most righteous of men.

Sam had heard that the former Michael Sword retired but, he never would have imagined that.. Dean. But it’s perfect for Dean. Dean always thought of himself as a hero, and Sam always thought Dean was one at heart, and so Sam’s glad Dean’s had the chance to follow his dreams, and feels a welling of pride for him.

It’s sad that Dean didn’t call Sam to tell him, but Sam understood. Sam was scared to call too.

But there was something off about the photo of Dean, and Sam’s hoped it was just photoshop.

He wasn’t expecting the billboard, and memories, nor the vision of following a man at night, in a dimly lit parking lot, and reaching out to grab the man, and electrocuting him, burning flesh with a single touch of his hand and chars the man to the bone, and ozone overwhelms his nose– that sent him crumpling back against some public fence, his head feeling like it encountered a freight train, and with squinting eyes, he checked his hands for the sparks he swore he could still feel tingling in his fingers.

God, these weren’t nightmares anymore. And he was beginning to suspect they never were, with the way they were matching death’s in distant ‘local’ news papers, and something dark and guilty settled in his stomach reading each one.

He took out his burner phone, and dialed HEAVEN’s emergency line. Please, be Dean, please, don’t be Dean, please, be Dean, please, don’t be–”State the emergency for HEAVEN?” A rough, raspy voice asks, far too tired and jaded, and really, more attractive and different than Sam’s limited preparation set him up for. It’s not Dean, that’s for sure.

Sam kept his voice level, years of making calls, real and fake are excellent practice, but he can’t help some of the frightened exhaustion leaking in. “I think a murder is going to happen at-at,” Sam just describes the parking lot, details, and his own conclusions that speak of past experience of identifying locations with limited information, “So, I think it might be somewhere there,” The man scoffs doubtfully on the other end, Sam ignores it, “The man has powers. Electrical. He could burn a man with just a touch. It’s going to happen–” It looked mid-day, and considering its location, “In about 4-6 hours, and I think it can be prevented. Look, I know this is–”

“Unconventional,” the voice on the other end, finished for him, and Sam can’t find it in him to be annoyed at the sound of the phone-line voice completing his sentence. “Consider HEAVEN on it. Can I ask your name, and how you know this? It’s–”

“Unconventional,” Sam echoed, “Yeah, I know. It’s not easy for me either. Just, consider me an anonymous tipster.” The voice on the other end breathes, and Sam, trepidation building in the back of his mind, Sam pleads, “Please,” before hanging up, his hands definitely not shaking as he slid his phone back into his pocket.

This doesn’t have to be his life. It doesn’t. It doesn’t. Sam got out, somebody else can deal with it.

Sam finished his jog, and then, went home to have an aspirin or two and wait.

Sam should try to sleep off the pain in his head, but he can’t, not until.. On the news, he sees an agent of HEAVEN, ‘Thursday,’ Thursday apparently took down the powered man with electrokinesis as he was attempting to murder a man. Sam sighs and his tension deflates. The man on HEAVEN’s emergency line took him seriously. Nobody died, not this time.

It became a part of Sam’s routine, receiving a horrible vision, sometimes too late, sometimes, just in time, and calling HEAVEN’s Emergency line, and it’s always the same man. The same man who asked him questions every time, at first, questions about his identity and suspicions about Sam’s knowledge, but Sam doesn’t let it get to him.. Sam is suspicious, untrustworthy, possibly even a dangerous person.. And the man still believed him anyway, consistently. Sam can’t make sense of why, but he’s thankful.. But soon the man, changed his questions, asking about Sam’s days, and how he felt, and asking whether Sam was taking care of himself. It was nice, like a blanket you didn’t know you needed to deal with the constant chill.

And he would tell Sam when Thursday got to the scene. Thursday is the hero that always goes out to the scenes Sam describes to Cas.

And Sam’s learned some things about the man too, like, his name is Castiel, and the way his harsh voice softens with kindness and concern is beautiful. Castiel doesn’t like talking about his job much, but he admits to Sam, that he thinks most of his coworkers can be thoughtless, unquestioning machines, that the employees of HEAVEN don’t actually agree with the values that are core to the agency.

Sam felt honored to be trusted with the knowledge. Castiel seemed so uncertain of himself, sharing it. It was a spur of the moment reply, but Sam would have said it every time, “Castiel, I promise I won’t tell anybody. You can tell me anything, call me anytime. You’re my friend.” Castiel doesn’t ever really gasp, but he holds his breath, and that’s what he did then. Castiel ended the call that time.

—-

Castiel disliked this part of HEAVEN, waiting at a desk, waiting for a call, a prayer, an order. He disliked the way Zachariah runs this branch of HEAVEN. Castiel disliked a lot of HEAVEN, not that he’d ever say any of it loud. Castiel knew the consequences.

Castiel was apart of the recent mission inducting a Dean Winchester into experiencing symbiosis with Michael, fulfilling his destiny in becoming the ‘Michael Sword’… It was unpleasant, among other things. It had jaded Castiel.

On one of the days that blend into millennia, one of the  HEAVEN’s Emergency phone lines ringing. Castiel’s, to be exact. “State the emergency for HEAVEN?” He asked tiredly.

A voice answered, even and composed, “I think a murder is going to happen at-at,” and the man continues with thought and consideration, painting a scene as if it’s happened inside his head, but there’s unsurety towards things like location, “So, I think it might be somewhere there.“ Castiel scoffs, this is the most suspicious call he has ever recieved besides that one time ‘a pizza-man’ was on the other end, and besides that, is this the sort of emergency HEAVEN is required for? “The man has powers. Electrical. He could burn a man with just a touch. It’s going to happen–” The man on the other takes a breather, and Cas found himself unexpectedly drawn to the steadfast cool in his voice, “In about 4-6 hours, and I think it can be prevented. Look, I know this is–”

“Unconventional,” Castiel says, sarcasm in his voice recognizable only to a limited few. Castiel wants to do it, to Castiel, that’s the more unconventional thing. “Consider HEAVEN on it.”

But Castiel is still curious, even against his symbiote’s inner nature, “Can I ask your name, and how you know this? It’s–”

“Unconventional,” The man replied drily, just as Cas had done. “Yeah, I know. It’s not easy for me either. Just, consider me an anonymous tipster.” Cas lets out a frustrated breath.

“Please.” Hung-up. Hung up the phone and Cas on that desperate note, hears that thing that had been threading all through the man’s voice the entire time, distress. Cas guiltily found himself admiring the man, and the voice, more than ever.

Castiel goes out immediately to investigate, and found it happening exactly as the voice recounted. Castiel stops the man, Scott Carey, and takes him to the HEAVEN’s interrogation facilities. Castiel is displayed on the news, as Thursday, the hero identity HEAVEN chose for him, taking down the man.

The anonymous tipster called frequently, with more yet-to-be’s and existing crime scenes. Castiel shouldn’t have been so curious. And Cas goes out as Thursday and Cas always find something, whether it’s in progress or all that’s left. It drives so many questions into Cas’ head. Who is he? Where does he get his information from? Castiel should have reported him a long time ago, to Zachariah. But for as long as Castiel had two thoughts, this would stay with Castiel and that voice.

Castiel’s interest in the man developed into other areas, so he asked different questions. Worse, it grew into concern. These ‘visions’ as the voice called them, seem to take a toll on the young-sounding man. This led the calls into conversations.

Which is unfortunate. Because Castiel hated that voice. It’s calm, conjures the kind of person you could share secrets, and stresses, and intimacies with, reassuring and gentle, and the way his voice raises with his hopes, it’s too nice to hear.

Castiel admitted things to that damned voice, things he would never say to anybody else. The genuine, honest way the man spoke, lured him like a siren to bad decisions. Well, not a literal siren.

Somebody, a coworker was talking while he was on the phone, “Wow, Castiel, not scowling when he’s on the phone? Wonder who he’s talking to.”

Castiel doesn’t take his hands off his phone, or move it from it’s position, but he glares at Hester before he returns to his call. “So, your name is Castiel,” There’s a hint of awe in the way he says the name, “It’s pretty. So, I-I mean, so, you’re one of the Angels?.. I would love to ask you about–I mean, it’s just I’m worried about my brother, if it’s something bad, I’m sure I’d have a vision about it.” That remained cryptic, no matter what blunt way Castiel asked.

But in return, Castiel learned the man’s first name. Sam. Simple. Not uncomfortable. Castiel liked it too.

One day, Sam called him twice in a row. Once to share a vision, and then, the second time. It’s not clear at first. But Sam is shaken, alone, and all he is requesting is Cas’ voice. And Cas was happy to talk ‘til his throat is sore for this cause.

Cas thinks he embarrassed himself when he starts accidentally flirting with Sam. Castiel has no idea how such a relationship would even be feasible, or happen. But Sam laughs, and he feels a little less bad about it.

Eventually, Sam has to go to sleep, and Castiel offers to keep the phone on and listen, but Sam denies the help. Castiel would have like to listen to his breathing as Sam slept. It’s very disappointing. It’s a reminder that he shouldn’t feel this much, or that way. It’s also a reminder, that he doesn’t care about should or shouldn’t right now.

—

Sam was having a really nice day, the kind he came to Stanford for, but then came along a vision of some poor girl coming across her fiance’s bloody remains, more scattered gore, than any recognizable human shape, and the frantic panic attack she went into until she blacked out. It was horrible to experience, and he knew it must have been even worse for her… Or was going to be. He can’t quite always discern the time the visions take place at, but he thinks a lot of them can be prevented from coming to pass. And all he was doing is making a phone call. He’s not doing enough.

Sam opened his phone again, went to the number and hovered, he and Castiel didn’t even use HEAVEN’s emergency line anymore, he was so weak, eventually gave in and tentatively pressed the ‘Call’ button..

“Sam? Are you okay? We’re already looking for the girl… Did you have another vision?” Sam feels bad about making Castiel worry for him, feels bad for wanting to hear Castiel’s voice. “Sam, please, talk to me,” Castiel said, his voice commanding, and it’d be scary, really, if Sam couldn’t hear the concern under it. Sam has to answer, “I’m okay, Cas. I didn’t have another vision.. I just wanted to hear your voice…” Sam trailed off, he didn’t want to explain more, all the weighty things in his head and heart, he can’t just keep dumping it on people like he always does.

It’s a miracle, because Castiel paused, as if analyzing what Sam just said, and then he goes back to talking as if Sam said nothing at all, didn’t request Sam to talk, just shared inanities, updates on heroes, complained about watching netflix alone, before apologizing for even saying that. Sam laughed at that. Castiel on the other end, bashfully chuckled, and talked some more, in that enthrallingly raspy voice, until Sam admitted he was nodding off, which was quite an achievement because he was having insomnia and nightmares together like a combo meal. Castiel offered to stay on the line while Sam slept, but Sam declined, not wanting to waste even more of Castiel’s time. Sam wasn’t going to pretend that Castiel sounded disappointed when he hung up. Sam feels better, just having Castiel as his friend through the phone. Wanting more than what he already had was what his greedy twelve-year old self would be doing.

Which leads him to now.

—

Sam is making toast.

And, then, he’s burning hot, and his barking laughter is long and malicious. Jess is crying and confused, her blonde hair is splayed all over her face, and she’s trembling against the dorm wall, pinned with an easy extension of force, and easier to raise her to the ceiling but.. First, he wants to see her beg. And she does, “Wh-what’s happen-Oh my god, Brady! Please-please, let me go! I don’t understand–Can’t you –Help me! Don’t do this, please. I-I-I– I can’t– Oh God. Pleapleasepleasepleasepleas–!” He’s pretty sure his eyes are more than black now, and the snarl he’s making isn’t even humanly possible, and his barking more intermittent howling, but it’s satisfying getting to reveal the monster he really is. Her expression of fear is porn-perfect. Jesus fuck. He’ll want to remember this for years, especially her face as it burns. How did little Sammy never fuck her, he wonders. He raises her body to the roof, and watches the plumes of fire surround her, flame flaying her ski—

Sam frantically unplugs the now smoking toaster, and there’s smoke and tears pricking at his eyes.

Sam sounds distantly calm as he recites the horrific details and facts of the vision, describes the demon, leaves out its resemblance to other things in Sam’s history, and Jess’ location within the vision, which was just her apartment. Sam had been over a few times. Castiel assures him, Thursday will be on the scene. Sam hangs up.

It’s sudden, Sam remembers the digital wall clock hanging in her room. That’s-That’s thirty minutes from now. He’s not sure Thursday can make it in time. He feels foolish for not mentioning it. Sam’s going to have go himself.

Sam was a fool to think he could escape the family business forever.

Sam still has the exorcisms memorized, and he blesses the water, easily into holy water. He remembers Dean calling him ‘a natural, his genius little brother,’ full of pride and cheer. While John looked on, not really seeing them and seeing his two sons too clearly, all manner of miserable emotions on his face, and none of them pride.

Sam takes a marker, too, but he’s not sure if he’s going to have enough time to draw a Devil’s Trap.

Sam isn’t aware when it happened, but he’s standing in front of Jessica’s door. He knocks. No time to waste. Jessica answers the door, and he wishes he could smile because she’s not dead yet. He peeks around her, Thursday doesn’t seem to be anywhere near. That’s okay, Sam’s prepared to do it himself.

Jessica invites him in, and Sam smiles at that, like Dean had taught him to. Dean is better at smiling when he doesn’t mean it, but Sam has dimples.

“It’s good to see you, Sam, are you okay? I know you haven’t been sleeping well.”

Sam cuts straight to the point, he’s not going to lie to Jessica. “There’s a demon on the way here, I think it’s possessed Brady.” Sam doesn’t want to think about how long Brady’s been possessed. Did he even remember to mention Brady to Castiel? Sam’s not sure.

Jessica’s expression falters and there is fear in her eyes, but she’s still cool-headed. “So, I suppose you called HEAVEN?” Sam nods. “Are they going to get here on time?” Sam speaks to that one, “No, but, we can prepare for the demon. Get your carpet, we’ll need it to cover up the Devil’s Trap.” Jessica doesn’t ask him any questions just does as he says.

Sam draws the Devil’s Trap, in red marker, the kind that’s permanent-permanent. As his hand draws, not shaking, hasn’t shook in a long time, he’s singing the exorcisms in his head like a song, a habit. Sam smiles up at Jessica as she hands him the shag carpet, which he places on the Devil’s Trap and smoothes out the wrinkles of the carpet, anything to make it look like it wasn’t a hasty attempt to hide a Devil’s Trap..

There’s a knock at the door. Sam knows who it is. Sam opens the door, sees the face of his friend, and watches a demon walk in. His eyes are black as soon as he realizes. “Oh, Sammy.” Sam operates on rehearsed instinct, splatters the holy water at Brady, not Brady, the demon, hears the sizzle, and Sam says the exorcism perfectly-it goes perfectl– A blow to the back of his head, and he’s tumbling, and Jess’ eyes aren’t green, but black.

And Jess speaks, “Oh, Sammy, you’re probably wondering now why the vision lied. Well, they’re demonic in origin. Congratulations. Yellow Eyes altered this one specifically, just for you. Oh, Yellow Eyes? He’s the demon who killed your mother. John Winchester’s white whale. You wonder why you’ve always felt different? Demon blood in those veins. Yellow Eyes gave that to you too. Wonder why Daddy didn’t love you? He knew. Big brother hasn’t been calling? He’s learned the truth about his little monster brother. This is your destiny, darling. And you’ve got to a lot to learn. Consider this the first day of the rest of your life.”

Sam wants to ask questions. Sam wants to get up. Sam wants a lot of things.

Sam remembers things too. Sam remembers demons lie, and sometimes, they don’t. Sam remembers a rough estimation of his internal clock too. Sam remembers hope too.

The windows, glass and electronics, it all shatters, the room is dark.

The light, too,  is spectacular and out of nowhere. Holy and alien, at once.

The demons curse, as they are burned out, by something more than they are.

Two hands grip him by both shoulders, and he finds himself lifted easily like he wasn’t a six foot plus man, and leaning into a handsome man. Thursday.

It’s really cliche, but Sam wants to kiss the lips of his rescuer.

Thursday speaks and it’s Castiel’s voice. “Are you okay? You weren’t described by–”

Thursday, or Castiel, looks at him, listens to him.

“Wait, you’re Sam? You’re Sam, with the grating voice.” Sam would be offended, if it weren’t filled with so much fondness.

Sam smiles, and it’s not even a portion of the excitement and adrenaline he feels. “And you’re Thursday, and.. And Castiel. I should have seen this coming.” Sam, honestly, wants to kiss him more now.

Castiel doesn’t smile, but Sam can see it anyway, “You should have, considering how many times you foresee things.”

Sam doesn’t want to say what the demon told him, he doesn’t even know if it’s true.

Castiel’s oceany eyes focus on Sam, and then, his face turns unpleasant. Sam really doesn’t want any more bad news. It’s not exactly been a good day.

“Are you Dean Winchester’s brother?”

Sam sees no point in lying, what if.. “Yeah-Did something happen to Dean? Is he okay? What’s happened?”

Castiel looks ashamed, “Something.. Much worse than I had realized. I hope you can forgive me, one day. And HEAVEN has something similar in mind for you.”

There are too many possibilities to even contemplate, yet Sam’s mind is already running through all of them.

“We have to go, Sam.”

“What?”

It’s full of exasperation when he says it, but it’s also desperate, “Just trust me. I have a lot to lose by helping you.”

Sam does trust him, trust that voice he’s heard over the phone, trust in the voice, that has trusted him again and again. Even if Castiel has something that needs to be forgiven, they can still go save Dean, and Sam will forgive him anything then.

Castiel touches Sam, with a few fingers to the forehead, and then. They’re gone, vanished.

Oh, anon that was brilliant! Castiel and Sam slowly falling in love, Castiel risking everything to save Sam. I could read more and more of this story. Thank you so much for righting this. 

[aion-rsa]

Clarice Episode 13 Review: Family is Freedom

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This Clarice review contains spoilers.

Clarice Episode 13

Clarice, episode 13, “Family is Freedom,” only closes some of the cliffhangers “Father Time” ended on.  We still don’t know whether Clarice Starling (Rebecca Breeds) will be reinstated into the ViCAP team, and we never find out what happened to young Clarice when her Sheriff father left her at the mercy of some pissed off criminals.

The last image we saw of that encounter, when Clarice ran it through her repressed memory bank, was a young Clarice with a gun held to her head as her father hangs his head in shame in the distance. The men who said they were cheated, and called Clarice’s dad a criminal and a coward, warned him he couldn’t hide behind his little girl. We never learn how that scenario plays out. How does she live through that incident to become the wild card federal cop she is today? The gang in the alley do not appear like they’re going to accept partial payment, and the implications are Clarice became part of a deal. But we don’t know and may not find out, as Clarice has not been picked up by CBS, and hasn’t officially been claimed by Paramount+.

This makes “Family is Freedom” the probable series finale, and for that Clarice really pulls out all the stops. The River Murders conspiracy Agent Starling forced the ViCAP team to investigate turns out to be something far worse than expected, the entire episode is action-centered, including the dynamics of every conversation, and one of the main cast gets shot.

The main setting is an exquisitely efficient horror house, and Alastor CEO Nils Hagen (Peter McRobbie), who runs it, is a monster whose deeds go far beyond the crimes of Buffalo Bill. The episode digs deep into the Silence of the Lambs subconscious to rework its iconography. The central location is an everyday nightmare: An animal research facility with its own rendering machine. This is a wonderfully horrific pairing. It screams “you really don’t get much more evil than this.” And then it does. It turns out the machines are grinding up the medical students Tyson (Douglas Smith) has been bringing over as part of his volunteer medical team. This means the meat being rendered is humanitarian cuisine.

The season villain is truly horrific, clicking so much more than the usual horror cliché buttons. Nils Hagen is a mad scientist from a long line of mad scientists. His grandfather weaponized chlorine during World War I, and in tender moments, the family posed deceased children in death portraits. “Memento mori,” as Agent Shaan Tripathi (Kal Penn) puts it, were all the rage at the turn of the century. But photogenic dead kids leave a strange legacy. Nils has been a chemist all his life, it is in his blood. He was born knowing there is no need for fire to get rid of the even the most seemingly damning evidence. Bleach and steam is enough during company sale time, because DNA breaks down at 400 degrees. He says it incredibly matter-of-factly, like the epitome of a psychopathic chief executive. But it is part of his collective unconscious.

It appears Tyson has been trafficking the students because he wants a brother. But all his father’s offspring turn out still born deformities. The students used for breeding are kept in pens, like lambs before slaughter, as if this isn’t going to trigger more memories in Starling. But she dips into her childhood trauma to pull out the idea of all the trapped animals rushing out at once. It is unintentionally funny when the person they run into is Deputy Assistant Attorney General Paul Krendler (Michael Cudlitz), and they knock him to the ground beating tiny little fists into his burly chest.

Just when you think the Hagen family have had their fill of bad blood, the evil father gives his prodigal son a tasteless choice. “This girl is here for you to kill so you can prove you are here for me,” Hagen says. But Tyson’s third option is no less terrifying, nor less psychopathic. He points out Clarice’s strength, her intelligence, he almost pulls her mouth back so Hagen can inspect her teeth, and basically says have at her. Go forth and multiply, I’ll get the jars ready.

Clarice weaponizes psychiatry with a magic bullet. She really gets into Tyson’s head, possibly taking tips from her therapist, Dr. Renee Li (Grace Lynn Kung). Clarice not only gets him to kill his own father but blow his own head off. It’s amazing what you can get away with when you turn in your badge to people who want you to keep it. Hagen was right to have his “first doubts.”

Every major player gets some kind of personal satisfaction. Agent Ardelia Mapp (Devyn Tyler) files her own paperwork, and doesn’t care who gets papercuts. At the outset of the episode, we learn she’s been told to remain in her departmental office, and will be terminated if she plays around with ViCAP. She gets to tell Krendler she’ll be suggesting where her boss can stick his desk duty.

Agent Murray Clarke (Nick Sandow) gets to visibly enjoy it. It may be his happiest moment of the season, and that includes the ending when he is wrapping his ViCAP jacket around a young medical student he helps save. Mapp is also allowed some follow through. She lay her case out straight succinctly, and Special Agent Anthony Herman (David Hewlett) runs out of facial expressions long before she finishes citing out the most grievous offenses. He, like Hagen, hits every button on the cookie cutter of bad men with powers: top cops. It doesn’t matter what Herman says, or what he claims to believe. He was doomed to one-dimension the moment his first word of dialog was keyed into the script.

Agent Esquivel (Lucca De Oliveira) takes strong-arming a witness literally, brother. He has the head of CSA Security Specialists cheek-deep in paperclips at his own desk before arriving at the ViCAP meeting in time to answer a question hanging in the air. The timing on the show is amazingly fortuitous. His entrance into the scene is plays like an old Courageous Cat and Minute Mouse bit. But there are so many moments which coincidentally happen to occur at the last possible moment. Krendler happens to call Attorney General Ruth Martin (Jayne Atkinson) about extenuating circumstances, just as she’s getting spit on by a House representative.

Congressman Llewellyn Gant makes a hard choice easier for Ruth. He tells her to step down, and take care of her daughter Catherine (Marnee Carpenter). The Attorney General responds by giving the go-ahead on an assault which may have been caused by an out-of-control agent who assaulted a civilian. She also begins an investigation on which politicians were getting funding from Alistor, so she gets to stick it to the man. The entire team gets the tell-tale mourning music moaning low as the victims are escorted to vans, and Krendler is loaded into intensive care.

“Family is Freedom” is exactly the kind of ending Clarice promised from the beginning. It went through the paces far too steadily to have any other outcome. The biggest break in protocol is how Clarice Starling took down the two main culprits without lifting a finger. She raised her voice a few times, but the only triggers she pulled were in the minds of her prey. The main character gets what she wants as well, everyone appreciates her, apologizes to her or gifts her with new beads. She even gets time to visit her mother. Clarice gets enough closure to close out the series.

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[secretcswriter]

Going Home for Christmas

Summary: When Killian Jones’ best friend Emma Nolan asked him to come home with her for Christmas acting as her fiancé, he never could have guessed what it would mean.

Find all Chapters Here

Also Read it Here: ff.net

Chapter Seven | The Worst Thing That Could Happen

 Ariel is the name of the reporter, which Killian finds slightly humorous due to the fact that her camera man’s name is Eric and the two other members of her crew are called Sebastian and Max.

 He and Emma have had to change into something more appropriate for an interview, with express permission given to them by the queen for each article upon their bodies.

 Mary Margaret stands behind camera when it starts to roll at least. He’d thought she might actually want to be in the interview herself with how much fussing she’d done getting them to sit in her study- the most photogenic room in the castle.

It turns out, being royalty is a lot more high maintenance than he’d been led to believe upon his arrival here. Emma seems to fall right into it all, while he’s left feeling entirely out of place.

 Emma’s hair curls around her shoulders and she wears the gentlest smile, appearing every bit as excited as a newly engaged princess should be. Her hand holds onto his against the couch cushion between them and he finds himself trying to find even the slightest flaw in her, but he can’t.

 His suit is far under dressed in comparison to the pretty dress she’s wearing, but Emma doesn’t seem to find issue with it.

 “Okay, so, let’s get this started,” Ariel says on a bright smile. She’s holding a notepad before her that she glances at. “First off, I want to say, Your Royal Highness, Mister Jones, congratulations to you both. This is such an exciting time.”

 Emma smiles back at the reporter. “Thank you.”

 His heart flutters anxiously. His hands feel slightly clammy.

 “Let’s start with the proposal and the engagement. When did it happen? How’d you propose?”

 Suddenly, all eyes are on him, even Emma, who gives the most encouraging pressure to his hand. She stares up at him with a tiny smile on her lips, one so convincing even he starts to believe it.

 He shifts slightly and clears his throat. “Well, it happened a few months ago. We’ve been living in New York. Ah…” He grins as he thinks about the story they’d concocted and turns his gaze to Emma affectionately. “We went to dinner at our favorite place for the anniversary of our meeting.”

 Emma laughs lightly. “I thought you were going to propose while we were there, just so you know.”

 “Oh yeah?” he lifts an eyebrow playfully. He laughs. “Well, I’d thought about that, but then I decided to wait a bit.”

 “Torture,” Emma says, looking at Ariel, who chuckles at her.

 “It was not,” Killian argues, drawing her attention back to him. “We went for a walk after, by the water, and the sun was setting the most lovely shade of orange and it made your hair glow.”

 Emma blushes a little and tilts her cheek toward her shoulder. “And then you proposed and it was very sweet and…”

 “Dare I say the most romantic speech of all time? I think it was.”

 Emma laughs, the warm sound encouraging his wicked grin back at her.

 “Did you say yes right away, Princess?” Ariel wonders.

 She bites at her lip thoughtfully and laughs. “Of course. Yes. I think I may have said it before he got the question out��”

 Killian hums and lifts his eyebrows, staring at the reporter. “That’s true.”

 Ariel chuckles. “And this happened how long after you met?”

 Both he and Emma turn to each other, humming and tilting their heads. “Five years?”

 “Just about.”

 “Wow, that’s a long time.” The reporter says with a knitted brow. “Were you dating the whole time or-?”

 Emma shakes her head. “We were friends first. I think we only started dating a year ago, right?”

 He hums. “Aye, yeah. A year’s about right.”

 “So, when did you find out about who she was really? Did you know going in… was it a surprise?”

 Killian has to laugh. He shakes his head. “No, no, I just barely found out, truthfully. But I think it’s fantastic.” He smiles at Ariel. “You know, I fell for Emma, not Princess Emma of Misthaven. She’s not any different now that I know she’s the princess. Certainly more important, but no less Emma.”

 Emma’s eyes are wide with surprise, as if she hadn’t thought he’d still like her for who she is. She turns it off in an instant, instead staring at him with the utmost tenderness.

 “Yes,” she agrees. “I’d been waiting to find someone that would love me for who I am aside from the crown. I think it comes from watching my parents and knowing how they met and fell in love so naturally. I wanted to find something that even slightly resembles what they have, and I’m… really happy that I have.”

 Emma smiles peacefully at him, almost selling even him on the realness of their relationship. Earlier he’d been seconds away from admitting his feelings for her, but he’s glad he’d been interrupted. Surely, she can’t feel the same way as he does.

 But it’s instances like this that have him confused and longing in the sorest way. Her eyes are so soft, like that of a lover, and her fingers squeeze against his. She bites at her lower lip for a second and turns back to Ariel when she asks another question.

 Maybe this week won’t be so bad after all. If he can only make her fall in love with him.

 + + +

 It takes Ariel and her team a while to leave. Emma finds herself falling back into position easily as they discuss kingdom goings on. She holds herself in an upright posture with her hands clasped together above her middle, as if she were ten years old again, getting taught the ways of being a lady.

 She catches Killian watching her, something that makes her heart stop even if for but a moment. Something’s going on in that head of his and she isn’t sure she wants to know what.

 Okay, yes she does. She definitely does. And she has an idea what it is, something that scares her a little bit.

 Emma takes a breath through her nose and steadies herself as she brings her attention back to Ariel, who’s trying to get her consent on a publication date, but all Emma wants is for this interview to fade into oblivion.

 “Emma, honey,” her mother interrupts as Emma’s about to reply to Ariel’s question.

 She lifts her eyebrows at her mom. “Yes?”

 Mary Margaret smiles kindly at Ariel. “Thank you so much for the interview, Ariel.”

 “Oh, it was my honor, Your Majesty.” Ariel bows her head a bit. “I’ll be off to edit and write up a story. I’ll have it sent to you when it’s done for approval.”

 “Wonderful.” Mary Margaret says on a smile that creates lines by her eyes. She looks at Emma. “So I was talking with Leo and he said he might like a family night tonight, if you’re free.”

 Her chest pangs with longing. It’s been far too long since they’ve had a family night. They’re always so much fun, whether it’s watching movies in the garden, or dancing in the ballroom, or baking in the kitchen without the staff.

 A smile spreads wide on her face, unable to keep away, and she laughs. “I’ll have to check with Killian, but yeah, I’m definitely game for family night. What do you think we’ll do?”

 Mary Margaret shrugs, grinning as she glances over at Killian, who has started a conversation with Sebastian. “I don’t know… I was kind of hoping we could introduce Killian to our holiday traditions.”

 She has to admit, being home again has ignited a joy in her she’d thought had been long forgotten. She’s excited at the idea of Christmas at the castle, even if the idea of being Princess Emma again is less appealing.

 So far, she’s found herself aching with the fond memories come to present day, with the trees decorated the same they were when she left, and the music that plays in the halls just the same volume.

 It’s beckoning her to stay, and maybe she would if she weren’t currently lying to the whole world about her relationship status.

 Even thinking for a moment about the complete failure of her attempt at keeping this between her parents, Leo, and she and Killian makes her nearly shake with anxiety.

 “I’m sure Killian would love that,” Emma tells her mother, much to the woman’s delight.

 Mary Margaret rubs Emma’s arm. “Alright. Let me know. I’ll get out of your hair. Thank you for humoring your old lady mom who wants to make a fuss over you.”

 Emma’s shoulders fall and she shakes her head. Her mother has spent five years with minimal contact with her, so it’s only right that she give her some hope and kindness while she’s here.

 “Mom… you’re not an old lady.” Off a heavy sigh, she adds, “I love you.”

 Her mother’s hand finds hers and she squeezes. “I love you too, Emma.”

 They linger for a moment or two and then she does as she’d promised, leaving with the last of the camera equipment and crew. She’s left with Killian, still looking handsome in his suit and with his hair slightly slicked back.

 He grins lopsidedly at her and she finds herself smiling. Her eyes fall to the floor when a slight flush of embarrassment joins the quickening pace of her heartbeat.

 “Well, that was quite the eventful morning.” Killian breaks the silence.

 She meets his eyes. “Yeah…” Emma hesitates and shakes her head. “I’m sorry.”

 “No, hey,” Killian hushes her. He crosses what’s left of the room to meet her, his hands immediately finding hers. He holds onto her tight and she looks up, caught in the kindness of his bright blue eyes. “You don’t have to keep apologizing. I agreed to help you. This is helping you.”

 Emma’s shoulders fall. “But it’s a big deal now, Killian. Everyone back in New York is gonna find out, and they’re going to write up articles about you, because you’re engaged to the Princess of Misthaven, and…” She releases his hands and steps back. “And they’ll write articles about me, too, because I’ve been missing for so many years.”

 Her eyes squeeze shut. She presses her hands over her face and groans. “This is not what I wanted.”

 Killian is almost too quiet, so she pulls her hands away from her eyes and finds him with a clenched jaw, taking his fingers through his hair quickly.

 “It’s not what I wanted either,” he admits. “But it’s happening, so we have to just… let it go. We know the truth. That’s what matters. So what if they write some misinformed articles about us?”

 “It could ruin your life. It could ruin mine.” Emma all but shouts. She’s feeling about a million times worse than she did when this discussion began. “And you didn’t sign up for that.”

 He sighs heavily. “Emma, there’s nothing that can be done now. I’m not worried.”

 “How?” she exclaims. “You’re… there’s…”

 Killian shakes his head. “I suppose I’ve got faith it’ll all work for the best in the end.” His soothing smile is almost enough to pull her out of her own head. “Were you going to take me on a tour of Misthaven, then, Nolan?”

 Emma looks down at herself and sighs. They’re not going to keep talking about the fact that she’s a big fat failure, so at least there’s that.

 “Yeah. I just need to change first.”

 Gently, her best friend lowers a kiss to the top of her head. “Hey. You’ve got me, no matter what happens, aye?”

 Her heart skips a frantic beat. “As long as we don’t ruin this with my parents, we should be fine. We just need to get through the rest of the week without any other gigantic mishaps.”

 Killian’s expression falls, as if disappointed, and then a grin twitches at the corners of his lips. “Well, I don’t intend on slipping up, so what’s the worst thing that could happen aside from that?”

 Emma scoffs. She takes a few big steps backward toward the door. “Well, if this were one of those Hallmark movies you always watch, my parents could invite my ex to visit and there could be a dramatic love triangle.”

 He arches an eyebrow. “Well. That wouldn’t happen. In our situation.”

 Emma laughs. “I know. I’m just saying.” She reaches the door of her mother’s study and settles her hand on the knob. “Come on, we should get dressed for walking around in the cold.”

 “As you wish.”

 She opens the door and takes a step out into the hall, already thinking five steps ahead, about what she’ll order at Granny’s as soon as they get there- she’s damn excited to share it with Killian- so she hardly notices anything else.

 “Emma?”

 The sound of the familiar voice stops her dead in her tracks. She turns, eyes widening, and she discovers, to her heart’s delight, the sight of a former friend long lost.

 Laughter bubbles past her lips and she shakes her head. “Graham? What are you doing here?”

 The Irishman seems just as surprised as she feels. She walks quickly to him and as soon as she reaches him, she wraps her arms around his shoulders, so her face tucks into his neck. It’s a familiar safe place, something that soothes her eyes shut as she basks in his warmth.

 “Your father invited me,” Graham murmurs. “I… didn’t think it wise to show up right when you first arrived, so I waited.”

 “You waited a day,” Emma teases on a laugh.

 They pull apart and Emma shakes her head slowly at him. She admires the way time has treated him, how much stronger and wise he seems. He smiles in that soft way, the one that initially made her fall for him, and she thinks her heart breaks.

 “I can’t believe you’re home,” he says on a breath, smile spreading. “How long are you here?”

 Emma grins. “A week. Just for Christmas.”

 Graham hums. His smile fades ever so slightly when he draws his attention to Killian- Killian!

 Emma whirls around and shakes her head. “Sorry. Uh, Killian, this is Graham, Graham, this is my fiancé Killian.”

 She watches as the pair of them extend hands to shake. “A pleasure.”

 “It’s good to meet you, Killian.” Graham smiles. He looks at Emma. “Uh…”

 Faced with abandoning one friend for another, Emma clears her throat and speaks up, “We were going to go for a tour and a stop at Granny’s… if you want to…”

 “Oh, sure. If you don’t mind me tagging along. It’s just been so long since I’ve seen you. I can’t wait to catch up.” Graham looks at Killian for approval.

 Her current best friend shrugs. “I don’t see why not. Sure. We were just going to change clothes first.”

 “By all means.” Graham smiles kindly. He looks at Emma with brightness in his eyes. “I’ll be waiting downstairs by the garden doors.”

 She can’t help but smile, thinking of the old days when he’d say he’d meet her there before sneaking out for the night. “Okay.”

 With her heart still aflutter, Emma turns back to Killian and she dazedly wanders toward her bedroom with him at her side.

 As soon as they’re inside, and Emma’s heading into the closet for more appropriate clothes, Killian asks with just a hint of jealousy, “What was that you said about your ex being invited for Christmas?”

 Emma scoffs. “We dated for like six weeks before he went and joined the military and he never came back for me or wrote to me, so… that flame is gone.” With slightly narrowed eyes, she smirks and asks, “You jealous, Killian?”

 She hears him stop whatever he’d been doing before he hurriedly says, “What? No. Of course not. You’re free to date whomever you choose. I’m just your pretend fiancé for the week. We’re just… bestest friends who kissed once.”

 Humming, Emma slips her arms through a sweater and drags it over her torso.

 She walks to the doorway of her closet and discovers Killian without his shirt on, grabbing for his favorite cable-knit sweater. From this angle, she can’t see his face, but she certainly can see the muscles of his back and the way his arms bulk up when he flexes them.

 Suddenly, her heart drops straight to her belly.

 She’s smack dab in the middle of one of those Hallmark movies Killian likes to pretend he doesn’t like watching, isn’t she?

 Killian turns once the sweater is on and an easy smile crosses his lips. “You ready to go, Nolan?”

 She blinks dumbly and nods. “Yeah. Okay.”

[afterspark-podcast]

G1 Episode 24: Transcript

Episode Show Notes

[This can also be found on AO3!]

[Stinger]

O: --Or Solus took a rib from Solus and genetically engineered his wife.

S: [laughing in the background]

[Intro Music]

O: Hello, and welcome to the Afterspark Podcast!  An episode by episode recap of the Generation 1 Transformers cartoon.  I'm Owls!

S: And I'm Specs.

O: And today we're gonna be talking about episode number 24, “A Prime Problem.”  Let's talk about giant robots today, shall we?

S: Um-hmm.  And today we open with the Decepticons next to a freshly created glowing ravine.

O: They had apparently detected some sort of rare energy on their sensors.

S: Starscream, is completely ready to dive in headfirst, but Megatron stops him, as he cites that the energy could be unstable.

O: Once bitten, twice shy, eh, Megs?

S: [sighs] Megatron's decided he cares about his subordinates today.

O: [laughs]

S: The Decepticons apparently have a- kind of an equivalent of Roller, called an Autoscout.

O: This is actually kind of fascinating to me.  Not only because the name, ‘Autoscout,’ sounds like it should be an Autobot thing, but also because this is another cassette that Soundwave sends out, that's weirdly colored like Rumble for some inexplicable reason.  But I like that the normal cassettes like Ravage, um, Rumble, Frenzy. etc, they're all considered valuable enough they aren't used for shit like this.

S: The scout descends into the ravine, revealing that the energy is coming from some very large crystals, while Megatron, Soundwave, and Starscream, you know, exposition things.

O: Yeah, I know, it actually was a reasonably good usage of you know, like, the audio and the visual storytelling.  Uh, these things are Korlonium- okay, so, I looked it up this thing has an ‘R’ in it but I swear to god they sound- it sounds like they're saying ‘Colonium’ crystals…

S: It could just be an accent thing.

O: So, these things are Korlonium crystals, apparently?

S: Megatron says that they're deadly, and then the scout blows up upon contact with it.

O: You know, right on time.  Starscream suggests luring the Autobots into the crystals to destroy them, but Megatron says that Optimus would never be so reckless.

S: Well, I mean the  real and I'm gonna emphasize REAL here-

O: [laughs]

S: -real Optimus wouldn't.

O: And then Megatron had a terrible, awful idea.

S: Megatron decides to wait in his new, temporary base until the Autobots show up.

O: It's a giant rock.  I know it's supposed to look like a mountain, but guys it's a ROCK.

S: And then we see the Autobots arrived with Spike in tow.

O: Oh good, I'm glad we brought the human to this weird energy source that's probably giving him cancer as we speak.

S: Do the robots even know what cancer is?

O: Uhh, good question! [laughs]

S: Then again, who knows if any of this is any more hazardous than the Ark on a normal day, let alone sitting in Bumblebee who may or may not be radiating who knows what.

O: Or- or being anywhere near- near Wheeljack?

S: Yeah.

O: And thus, Cliffjumper attempts to do what he does best, jumping off a cliff and into the crystals.

S: Well, I mean he has to live up to the prophecy that is his name, because it's a self-fulfilling prophecy.

O: Indeed.

S: But Optimus advises caution, before Starscream shows up with several other Cons. Starscream here is super creative with his insults to Optimus.  Calling him Floptimus.

O: Why does that sound like a dick joke?  Better yet, why are you using a dick joke on Optimus?  Your boss is the one that turns into a phallic object.

S: He's jealous of their, um, relationship.

O: Obviously.  A fight breaks out, with Optimus almost immediately taking out the three Seekers.

S: He just dismisses them as opponents, while loudly declaring how bored he is to only be fighting three Decepticons.  And then Megatron has Soundwave reject Laserbeak to take out Optimus.

O: May one bird do what three Jets could not.

S: Upon seeing Laserbeak Optimus calls him a ‘tinfoil turkey’.

O: The bastard, be nice to my birb!

S: But Laserbeak shoots Optimus down a convenient adjacent ravine, free of electronic frying crystals.

O: Megatron then orders Laserbeak to take holographic scans of Optimus’s body, from  every  angle.  Megatron holds a perfect replica of Optimus Prime for  reasons.

S: And... Megatron also wants Optimus alive.

O: Oh lord, he wants a harem.

S: Maybe?

B: [laughs]

S: While Laserbeak is scanning Optimus, Megatron calls him um, photogenic.

O: Optimus is knocked out, ass up, and SOMEHOW that's photogenic!?!  Megs, buddy, NOOO!!!

S: [sighs]  A mere few button pushes later and Megatron now has an exact copy of Optimus Prime.

O: It fools Soundwave.  I have absolutely no idea why, it's not like Soundwave wasn't watching the monitors with the real Optimus on them at the same time is Megs.  He saw Laserbeak scan him!

S: To make this even sillier, Soundwave’s basically psychic.  Actually, I'm kind of wondering if he's performing surprise for Megatron's benefit.

O: Why though!?!  He shouldn't be surprised here! [dissolves into laughter]

S: Yes, but maybe it makes Megatron feel better to have his ego stroked?

O: I would believe that.

S: It's just to guess.  Megatron proudly proclaims that it's a clone.

O: We gonna talk about how Megs just uh, had this all ready to go or…?

S: I don’t know, it's the plot of the week.

O: Plot of the week, he’s got plans for it, I mean whatever...

S: He's just making use of stuff he already had.

O: [snorts]

S: He then puts on a silly helmet, that is of course purple, and now he can control everything the clone says or does.

O: Clone Optimus heads out to meet up with the Autobots.  The Cons retreat, and the Autobots head back to base.

S: Meanwhile, the real Optimus, who has apparently been left unsupervised, wakes up and climbs out of the ravine he was trapped in.  And at the Ark, Megatron apparently doesn't know anyone's name as he has the clone calling Ironhide, ‘Bumblebee’.

O: I really wish they got a bit farther with this gag.  Either having Megatron trying to impersonate Optimus Prime's voice or have Optimus try to have more of Megatron’s speech pattern.  Like, now I'm just wondering has anybody ever asked the two VA’s to do that? Because I would pay good money to see that! [laughs]

S: I'm kind of wondering how Megatron- how they don't have any goddamn information on any of like, their- the opposing faction because he should know.

O: He clearly know who Bumblebee is, in earlier episode.  That's the part that makes this make less sense.

S: Yeah. So, I mean, you think, you've been fighting a war against them, they're- like, their roster doesn't really change.

O: Yeah.

S: You’d think you'd know who the hell they are, if only so that you can properly you know, combat them.

O: Yeah, pretty much.

S: And yeah, Megatron also has absolutely no idea how to operate Teletraan I, despite the fact that he's had operatives going in and operating it and getting shit out of it, for how long?

O: At least a year.  The Autobots express worry about their leader but the clone uses the fall as an excuse for his ‘faulty memory’.

S: This seems like it would be a good reason for you know, Ratchet to open him up but apparently he's identical inside and out, through and through.

O: YUP, we’ll get to that! [laughs]

S: Yeah, and then the real Optimus shows up and the clone orders the others to shoot him.  But Ironhide stops them. Wanting to verify which one is the real one.

O: Which obviously the second one's the right one, because he doesn't even notice the other Optimus at first.  He's too busy expressing how happy he is that everyone made it back safe.

S: [sighs] The real Optimus.  Bumblebee has Teletraan I scan the two Optimi, but they come up as exactly the same.

O: [deadpan] Oh gee, if only sparks existed. [returns to speaking normally] I mean I’d assume that one of them wouldn't have one, right?

S: Well if it -if it did it would have weird implications for you know, their reproduction.

O: Uh, it has weird implications period, considering sparks are canonically a thing here, retroactively, by way of Beast Wars.

S: Yeah.

O: So, you know, that's the thing.  Apparently, we're going to do a series of tests to see which is the real Optimus out of these two.  Uh, the first of which is laser rifle skills.

S: Really guys, all you need to do is see which one knows how to use the damn computer.

O: [snorts] It's so true.  To make this dumber though, I'm not even sure which one is which in these scenes.

S: I'm not sure anyone is.

O: [laughs] The animators didn't know either!  The writers didn't know either! I believe it.

S: And instead of doing something sensible, like asking them questions, they decide to make the two Primes do a truck race next.  Oh, GODDDD-

O: Shockingly, these tests are inconclusive!

S: [sighs] But the Autobots have more important things to worry about.  The Korlonium crystals are about to explode and they've got to stop it!

O: This is apparently all going according to Megatron's plan, as the Cons are messing with Teletraan’s readings to lure the Autobots back to the crevice. Wait, one moment, he just said he didn't know how to use Teletraan but they know how to fool the fucking scanners?

S: I guess they can manipulate what Teletraan’s sensors are getting?  I don't know.

O: I suppose that's more likely.

S: Cuz I mean, Soundwave could probably do that.

O: Okay, I believe Soundwave could do that.

S: Megatron, Megatron, no.  Soundwave, probably yeah. Maybe Starscream could do something?  But apparently, he didn't know what the fuck they were so… I don't know.  Megatron is saying this while wearing the control helmet so does that mean the clone is saying all this shit out loud, as well?

O: Please, yes lord, please! [laughs]

S: I mean that would blow the cover like, really fast but apparent- unless everyone was super dumb, which I mean they are...

O: I MEAN, they do not have a good track record in this episode, let's be honest.

S: Sadly that would not appear to be the case, uh, with regard to talking out loud via clone.  Uh, when we get back to the Autobots, they are just about getting ready to roll out. But Ironhide tells the two Primes that until they're sorted out, he's the one giving orders around here.

O: So, still Peter Cullen? [laughs]

S: [laughing] Yes!

O: Peter Cullen does one other voice in this series regularly, it's Ironhide.  I do find this funny. When the Autobots arrive they are attacked by the Decepticons.

S: Megatron plans to have the clone order the Autobots into the deadly, deadly crystals, and of course the- in order to gain their trust he'll have to destroy one of the Cons.

O: Starscream doesn't just walk into this, he- he falls flat on his face into it.

S: [sighs] He swan dives.

O: [laughs]

S: Starscream is like, “I, Starscream!?!  The pride of the Cybertronian war academy!?!”

O: “This aft?  This aft, right here?  You want to offline this aft?”

S: And Starscream, you know, runs away, and flies out of the hideout, like a coward.

O: [snorts] I don't know if I really blame him, in all fairness.

S: True, I mean, considering how much he and Megatron fight, and how- how many times Megatron's probably told him he's gonna kill him and everything.

O: And vice versa. Megatron has Soundwave send Laserbeak after him.

S: While all this is going on, Spike and Windcharger find the entrance to the hidden base.

O: For being half Starscream's height, Laserbeak actually makes pretty quick work of him and just hauls him back into the base.

S: I am pretty sure Laserbeak is significantly smaller than Starscream, unless he was like mass shifted up here.

O: I- I don't know, I feel like when we saw it, it looked about half- like he was about half as tall or something but-

S: I don’t know, it’s- it’s weird.

O: -hell if I know.

S: Once Starscream’s dumped back in front of Megatron, Megatron says he intends to have the Optimus clone kill Starscream's clone, not Starscream himself.  This is important information that was left out.

O: And this is what you get for dicking around with people Megs, a squishy infestation.

S: Of course, once Starscream's been ah, cloned he sees something he finally loves more than himself, his clone!

O: Starscream gets his own dumb helmet to control his clone too!

S: Same hat!

O: [laughs] Spike and Windcharger attempt to get out after hearing Megatron's plan, but they are chased by Laserbeak.

S: Spike is, you know, captured accordingly and ah, Windcharger falls to his apparent doom.

O: Into the crystals, like, I feel that’s relevant.

S: Yeah.

O: Uh, Soundwave is now babysitting the squishy.

S: Spike calls Megatron a, ‘Mega-rat’.

O: Just once- just once I'd like to hear these idiots say an actual zinger.

S: Back outside, the two clones face off one-on-one, mano a mano.  With Megatron congratulating himself on being a  brilliant  playwright for choreographing all this nonsense.

O: All I can think is just see- see, you let him write shitty plays, this war wouldn’t have happened!

S: Oh god, hes’ doing- he’s pulling a Loki from-

O: [cracking up] OH MY GOD, that's the fic we want and deserve!  Is Megatron wins, and all he does is put on shi- is put on shitty plays!  Headcanon accepted.

S: Self-aggrandizing plays and poetry.

O: Mm-hmm!  And then Optimus kills Starscream in cold blood, in front of a bunch of witnesses.

S: Oh boy, are they gonna feel super silly when Starscream shows up in five minutes.

O: Five minutes I think you mean immediately!?!

S: As the wind is blowing the dust of Starscream's clone away, um, Starscream still standing there, in the shot, with the two other seekers.

O: [laughs] So animation error, but in all seriousness, Megatron and Starscream actually work really, really well together here.  Proving they can do it if they try!

S: Um-hmm.

O: The Autobots are dumb, dumb, dumb, mothafuckers, reaching the conclusion that this has to be the  real Prime, because he killed Megatron's second-in-command.

S: Would the real Optimus kill Starscream in cold blood?  I think we've established that, no he the fuck wouldn't.

O: He can't even kill Megatron in cold blood most continuities.

S: Yeah.

O: Clone Optimus orders the bots into the crevice and the real one tries to stop them, but no one listens to him.

S: You're all so DUMB!  So, so DUMB!!! Why didn't you ask about prior experiences that you would have had with him!?!

O: Because that would make too much sense! [laughs]

S: [sighs]  Why? So much sighing...

O: [laughs]

S: Windcharger proceeds to drive up out of the crevice and is like, “Hey guys.  Don't fucking go in there!”

O: [laughs] I wanna point out that he survived because he apparently transformed into his alt mode before hitting the ground.  I don't know why that helped, because clearly that doesn't seem to help- because the Scout still blew up and it had wheels, but whatever.

S: It might not have had rubber tires, that’s the thing.

O: Hmm, okay.

S: Cuz, I think it's specified that the rubber tires somehow insulated him?

O: You know, this is- this is like, on par with them defeating uh, what's-his-face’s lightning in that other episode by being in car mode, but sure!

S: Yeah, the clone attempts to get everyone ah, into the crevice again, but finally fucks up enough that the other Bots catch on.  And it's when he calls Spike, ‘unimportant’.

O: Megatron was so close, he just lost his patience, man.

S: The Autobots finally turn on the clone sending him into the crystal crevice.

O: The Decepticons are blasting off again, and as they make their escape they just chuck Spike out a window.

S: Powerglide proceeds to show up, um, and showboats that rescue.  Spike should really be dead at this point.

O: Critical velocity and all that, because while Powerglide was showing off they got really close to the ground with that catch.

S: Yeah, and even if Spike er, Skydive-Sky-

O: Skydive?  [laughs]

S: Wrong- I mean right season, wrong flying Autobot.

O: [continues laughing]

S: Ah, even if Powerglide managed to like, match velocities with him- yeah, but still- he'd still splat-

O: Yup.

S: -unfortunately for him.  Um, back on the ground, Spike asks Optimus if it's really him and uh, then Optimus offers a rather silly response, but it’s- you know, it's cute.

O: “Yes Spike.  This time I am definitely me... or I.  Myself. Oh, whoever I am.”

B: [laugh]

O: And that's it for today's episode, join us next time for, “Atlantis, Arise!”  Uhh, so did you guys ever want to see the lost city of Atlantis with giant robots, jets underwater, and um... Washington DC?

S: Megatron takes over um-

O: A lot of things.

S: -Lincoln’s chair.

O: [laughs]

S: Yeah.

O: Megatron finds the  perfect chair.

S: Yep, too bad you can't take it home.

O: [snorts]

S: Okay, we have two- two fanfic recommendations for today.  Would you like to talk about them or would you like me to?

O: Yep, I can do it.  Uh, so, uh basically, I did both of these because I will use any excuse to talk about Shattered Glass.  (I apologize for nothing!) So, our two fics for today, uh, the first one is, “Mathematical Manipulation” by Merfilly.  The continuity is Shattered Glass, it’s G, it’s Gen there are no pairings. Characters are: Megatron, Starscream, Soundwave, Shockwave, Frenzy, Optimus Prime, Rodimus Prime, and Thundercracker.  That is all of the Shattered Glass versions and in summary, “Megatron doesn't see the future, he just models it on probability.” The character or a rec this is based on is, ‘evil Optimus,’ and it's a one-shot.  Also, this makes more sense when you realize that Shattered Glass Megs is a math professor.

S: Which is indeed a fun thing.

O: Which I love immensely!  And our second one is, “Someone You Might Have Been,” by Astolot.  It's G1/Shattered Glass, it's rated T, it's definitely slash, uh, for Megatron/Optimus and our characters are: Shattered Glass Megatron, regular Megatron and Optimus.  The- in summary, “I didn't love him because he wasn't you.” And the character theme this is based on is again, ‘evil Optimus,’ but also Megatron and Optimus slash. It is a one shot.  It's also one of the only Astolot fics I can recommend, so I was like, we're gonna put that here! [Because we’ve been trying to keep all the fic recs at T and below for the most part. ~Owls]  And that's it for our fics today.

S: And that just about wraps it up for us today.  Remember to check us out on Tumblr or Pillowfort as a Afterspark-Podcast for any additional information, show notes, or links we may have mentioned.  You can also find us on Facebook and Twitter @AftersparkPod (all one word), and various other locations by searching for, “Afterspark Podcast,” such as AO3, iTunes, Google Podcasts, Stitcher, and Youtube, just to name a few.  Until next time, I'm Specs.

O: And I'm Owls.

S: Toodles!

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