#kickin my feet back and forth giggling

[mandiemegatron]

Hey, honey! You are so sweet, and I love you!

I hope you have a lovely day because you deserve it! 😘😘😘

😭😭😭😭 MUGI BABY 😭😭😭😭😭 MY PRECIOUS LIL PECAN I LOVE YOU SO MUCH 😭😭😭😭

And um NO das you, YOU are the sweetest ever and I absolutely adore you ! 💖💖💖💋💋

I just got home from work, TO THIS BEAUTIFUL ASK WHICH HAS MADE MY DAY 😭💖 I hope you're having an even better day my lil pecan, smooch smooch !!! 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

[theeoriginals]

CHAPTER TWO:

ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD

“where you lead me,” i said. “i’ll follow.” he laughed. “baby. baby. baby. i love you. and i’m going to build us a table and a whole lot of folks going to be eating off it for a long, long time to come.” - james baldwin, if beale street could talk

summary: the millers ring in the new year, and then celebrate sarah's birthday. joel decides he wants to settle down with blue.

warnings: the last chapter of just fluff lmao, enjoy

baby blue series masterlist

DECEMBER 31, 2002 / JANUARY 1, 2003

“Five minutes!” Sarah’s gleeful call echoed through the house, and the three adults chuckled at her excitement. 

Joel lifts his beer up, drinking the last bits of it before it gets too warm for him to enjoy. His arm tightens where it’s wrapped around Blue’s waist and she lets him pull her impossibly closer, a laugh in her voice as she and Tommy bicker back and forth. 

“Oh, come on, Miss Blue, you have to start the new year off with a kiss for good luck!” 

“And you think my good luck will come from you?” She questions incredulously, wrinkles crinkling in her face from the wide spread of her grin. “How many girls do you use that line on, huh?” 

Tommy waved a hand, smirking at the eye roll he earns from his brother. “Only you, Miss Blue, you’re the apple of my eye, the fire in my–”

“Alright now, Shakespeare,” Joel cuts in, giving his brother a faux-stern look that makes Sarah giggle. “She’ll be gettin’ a good luck kiss from someone who hasn’t spread his luck around the whole city of Austin.” 

Tommy’s jaw drops and Blue laughs loudly, the sound bouncing around the walls of the home that’s warm with the love they all have for each other. 

“Two minutes, guys,” Sarah reminds them, wiggling her way in between her father and Blue. They move easily enough, giving her the space she needs to fit amongst them. “My teacher says that a New Years kiss means you’ll find love that year,” 

“Your teacher is right, babydoll,” Blue lays a hand on Sarah’s head, tilting her head back so she’s looking up at them. “But even if you don’t get a kiss, you’ll still have plenty of lovin’ to go around.” 

Sarah smiles, but her attention is quickly torn away by the countdown beginning on the TV screen. “Look, look!” 

“We’re lookin’, baby,” Joel lays his free hand on her shoulder, sharing a smile with Blue as the timer ticked down, and the giant crowd gathered in New York on the TV began cheering as the ball dropped with each passing second.

“Ten, nine, eight,” 

“I’m saying it now, y’all, 2003 is going to be the year of the Millers. We’re kickin’ ass and takin’ names,” Blue raises a fist, earning a supportive cheer from Tommy and Sarah.

“Five, four, three, two– Happy New Year!” The four people called out over the raucous cheer from the television, and Joel leaned over Sarah’s frame to kiss Blue, the two of them smiling into it. 

Pulling apart, they shared a look before they leaned down and started kissing Sarah’s face all over, making the girl break into uncontrollable giggles. 

“Stop it, stop it!” 

Joel looks at his daughter’s flushed face, seeing her preen under the affection. “That should be enough love and luck to last you ten years, don’t you think, Blue?”

“At least ten, I think.” The woman wrapped an arm around Sarah’s shoulders and the teenager rested against her side. “She’ll be takin’ over the world before we know it.” 

“I don’t wanna take over the world,” Sarah shakes her head, scrunching her face up slightly. 

“Oh, really?” Tommy raises a brow at his niece. “Why not?” 

The girl shrugs and looks from her uncle to her dad, to Blue. “I’d rather just stay here with you guys.” 

Joel sighs, lifting a hand to cup his daughter’s cheek fondly. “You can do whatever you want, baby. You got all the time in the world.”

The night wound down shortly after the clock struck twelve, and Tommy ended up on the couch with his feet hanging over the end of it while Joel cleaned up as quietly as possible. Blue took it upon herself to help Sarah into bed, tucking the girl in as she faded into a sweet sleep. 

Leaning over the girl, she pressed a kiss to her forehead, smiling when Sarah leaned into the touch. “Goodnight, babydoll. Sleep tight, and don’t let the bedbugs bite.” 

“Blue?” Sarah mumbles, sleepy eyes looking up at her in question. “Are you gonna be my mom now that you’re moving in with us?” 

The woman stills, looking at the open bedroom door and suddenly wishing Joel were there to handle this delicate question. Clearing her throat, Blue smiled softly. “You already have a mama, Sarah.” 

Sarah shakes her head slightly, brows furrowing. “Yeah, but she left my dad. I don’t even remember her, and dad never talks about her, but Uncle Tommy says she wasn’t right for dad, not like you are. So, I want you to be my mom.”  

“Oh, babydoll,” Letting out a somewhat shaky sigh, Blue smiles. “I’ll be whatever you want me to be, alright? As long as it’s okay with you and your daddy, I’ll be anything you want me to, even your mama.”

“Dad loves you,” She says, matter-of-factly. “And so do I. Do you love us?” 

“‘Course I do, Sarah. Both of you– so much. I think I’m gonna love you for a long, long time. Long as y’all let me, that is.” 

Sarah smiles then, sleepy and content as Blue smooths her blankets out again and switches on the small night light on her nightstand. “Night, Blue.” 

“Night, Sarah. Sweet dreams.” 

─────

JULY 20, 2003

“The birthday girl gets what the birthday girl wants, and your birthday girl wants pancakes,” Blue looked at a tired-looking Joel, quirking a brow when he rubbed his hands over his face, the early hour on a Sunday morning making him wish he was back in bed with Blue, still asleep. “So get up and go to the store before she wakes up.” 

“The store?” He echoes incredulously. “I don’t even like pancakes, baby, I’m not goin’ to the store at 7am on a Sunday!” 

Blue sets her hand on her hip, giving him a narrow-eyed once over. “You better hope we got all the shit to make pancakes, otherwise you’re explainin’ to my babydoll why she doesn’t have pancakes on her fourteenth birthday.” 

Joel groaned softly, smashing his face back into his pillow as Blue turned on her heel and walked out of the room, heading for the kitchen. He gets up slowly, ignoring the persistent creak of his bones and aches in his muscles as he makes his way for the kitchen, bypassing Sarah’s bedroom door that was still shut, only reaffirming the fact that Blue was up far too early. 

“Blue, what are you doin’?” 

She looks at him over her shoulder, gesturing to the small mess she’s managed to make in the five minutes it took him to get out of bed. “I’m makin’ buttermilk pancakes, what’s it look like?” 

“It looks like there was a tornado in my kitchen,” 

“Your kitchen,” She scoffs as he comes up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and dropping his head into the slope of her neck, still holding onto the last remnants of sleep despite knowing there’s no way he’s making it back to bed. “The other night you said it was my kitchen, and it had to be clean in order for me to use it.” 

“Yeah, but that was just so Sarah would do her chores.” 

Blue makes a noise of amusement as she slowly mixes in the concoction of dry ingredients. “Get me the vanilla extract– and the cinnamon, please. Since it’s your kitchen, Master Chef. And keep your hands to yourself, you can’t scar your daughter on her birthday.”

“Oh, Lord,” Joel groans, stoutly not moving from his place draped around Blue. “She’s seen worse. Heard worse from Tommy,” 

“I can’t believe you just used your brother as an excuse to grope me in the kitchen,” 

“What are you guys doing?” 

Blue and Joel both startle, Joel stepping back from Blue as they snap around to face Sarah standing in the entryway to the kitchen with a sleepy frown on her face. 

Clearing her throat, Blue points a finger at him accusingly. “Your dad wouldn’t go to the store to get pancake mix, so I’m making ‘em homemade for you.” 

“I can’t believe you just threw me under the bus like that–” 

“Do we have chocolate chips?” Sarah grins excitedly, cutting her dad off as she bounds towards them, exhaustion suddenly nowhere to be found. “I want chocolate chips, and whipped cream!” 

Joel grunts as Sarah throws herself against him, hugging his waist tightly, but he quickly recovers and squeezes her as tight as he can without hurting her. “It just might be your lucky day, because we have chocolate chips and whipped cream.” 

Blue shares a secret look with Joel, smiling at the girl’s excitement. “And you know, I think there might be a present for you in the livin' room, but you’ll have to go check.” 

“A present? Is it a car?!” 

“A car?” Joel echoes incredulously as Sarah pulls back, meeting his look of shock expectantly. “You’re fourteen, not twenty!” 

“I’m getting a car before I turn twenty, Dad,” 

“Not with that attitude.” 

“Blue!” Sarah whines, turning to look at the woman who’s hiding a smile behind her hand. “Tell him that I’m getting a car before I turn twenty.” 

Blue shakes her head, holding her hands up in surrender. “I am not getting in the middle of this. All I can tell you is that a car definitely does not fit in our living room, so you might be disappointed.” 

Sarah feigns an eye roll and Joel pushes her back, pointing a finger in the direction of the living room. “Go get your present while Blue finishes these pancakes for you,” 

The teenager does as told, scurrying off to the living room before she comes back with the gift bag in tow. “Can I open it now?” 

Joel nods, and Sarah pulls the tissue paper out of the bag, her smile growing as she pulls out a folded shirt, the shark-tooth necklace tucked into it, and a set of earrings. 

“Earrings?” She frowns, looking at her dad. “My ears aren’t pierced.” 

He crosses his arms over his chest, heaving a sigh as he looks between his daughter and Blue. “Blue and I have talked about it–”

“More like I had to bribe you,” 

“We talked about it,” He huffs, earning a cheeky wink from the woman. “And if you still want to, she’s gonna take you to get your ears pierced today.” 

Sarah’s eyes widen and she grins, looking at her dad. “For real? You’re gonna let me pierce my ears?” 

“If you want to,” 

“If I want to, he says,” Sarah mocks. “Like I haven’t asked you every day since I was twelve!” 

“Well, I finally got him on board,” Blue leans against the counter, looking at Sarah. “So we’re goin’ out for lunch, and then we’re goin’ to get ‘em done, and when we get home we’ll have dinner and cake, and you can have the rest of your presents.” 

Sarah launches herself at the two adults, wrapping her arms around them to the best of her ability, making them both chuckle. “This is the best birthday ever,” 

“Just wait for your sixteenth when you actually get that car you’re talkin’ about,” 

“Alright, that’s enough now,” 

“Dad!” 

───── 

AUGUST 15, 2003

"Dad,"

Joel ignores the whispered call from his daughter, his nervous hand turning the lit candle ever so slightly in the middle of the table.

"Dad!"

Joel whips around, looking at Sarah with wide eyes. "What?!"

"She just pulled in the driveway."

"Shit," He curses, backing away from the carefully set table for three. It's the nicest the Miller kitchen table has ever looked, and he applauds Sarah for her help. The single red rose sitting in a cup-turned-vase beside the candle, against the black tablecloth she'd pulled from deep in their linen closet looked as romantic as Joel Miller ever could be. "Are we ready? I don't think we're ready,"

"Dad," Sarah lays a hand on his arm, giving him a reassuring look. "You guys are practically already married, it's gonna be fine,"

He groans, forcing himself to calm. "You're right. She has no reason to say no."

"Exactly," Sarah smiles smugly as the sound of the front door opening alerts them both.

"Fret no longer, Miller family, your favorite person is home!"

Joel smiles, warmth flooding his face as he looks down at his daughter, seeing her matching grin. In unison, they call out to her. "Kitchen!"

Her footsteps come around the corner into the kitchen, and Joel finds himself floored at the sight of her smile, meeting her in the middle for a kiss that Sarah, for once, does not make fun of him for. "Hey, Blue,"

"Hi, baby," She leans in, giving him one, two more kisses before she parts from him and moves to drop a kiss onto Sarah's forehead in greeting. "I got some wine like you asked, though I'm curious as to why we're havin’ wine and not beer."

Joel huffs, briefly panicking as he shrugs his shoulders. "We're having a nice dinner, figured wine would go better," He gestures to the done-up table and her eyes fall to it, widening in surprise before a look of pure adoration floods her face.

"Oh, wow," The words are breathed out in awe, and Joel's reminded as to why exactly he wanted to do this in the first place. Because she's always looked at him and Sarah and the things they do as the best. From nosebleed seats at a football game, to simple, homemade dinners with a rose and a candle on the table, she acts like it's no less than perfection. It makes him feel giddy like a kid again.

"What's this for, huh? Did Sarah get honor roll again?"

"No," Joel cuts in, making Sarah huff as she goes to sit down in front of her plate of spaghetti. "Just wanted to have dinner with the three of us."

"Well, I love it," She grins at him before joining Sarah at the table, setting the bottle of wine in between their empty glasses. "And I am starving, so let's eat,"

Joel takes his seat with a smile, heart racing as he and Sarah share a secretive smile across the table.

"So, how was work?"

"It was alright," She waved her hand vaguely, reaching for her glass of wine as she, Sarah, and Joel talked amongst their meal. "Mr. Carden came into the center again asking about you, telling me you've been ignoring his calls."

Joel looks sheepish, but he feigns innocence as he shoves another bite of spaghetti in his mouth, manners be damned. Around the mouthful of food, he says, "I haven't gotten any calls,"

It comes out muffled, but she and Sarah both hear it, and they share mutual looks of exasperation before laughing at Joel's poor attempt at innocence.

"Joel Miller, are you ignoring that sweet old man?"

He swallows the bite of pasta, holding his hands up defensively. "I'm busy! I've been working!"

Blue shakes her head, still smiling fondly. "You just want me to be the one that has to make excuses for you,"

"Yeah, because you're so good at it, Blue,"

"I'm good at lying to people?!"

"On my behalf," He corrects, grinning crookedly as Sarah giggles uncontrollably beside them. "And I love you for it."

She points an accusing finger at him, pursing her lips to hide her growing smile. "You're supposed to be a gentleman, Joel,"

"And I am," Joel shrugs, lifting his wine glass to his lips. "But I only have to be a gentleman to you two. That's all that matters."

"You only have to be nice to me and Blue? What about Uncle Tommy?"

Joel heaves a sigh, rolling his eyes exasperatedly at the mention of his brother. "Uncle Tommy does not need me to be a gentleman, because he's an idiot."

Blue leaned over, whispering conspiratorially in Sarah's ear. "But we love him anyways,"

Sarah nodded, watching her dad shift nervously across the table. Eyes widening, she clears her throat pointedly, looking at Blue. "Dad has something he wants to ask you,"

"Sarah!"

The woman looked between them suspiciously, narrowing her eyes. "Does he now?" Turning in her seat to look at Joel, she raises a brow. "What is it you need to ask me?"

Shooting a glare at his daughter, he let out a somewhat shaky breath. "Well, uh, you– you know that I love you, right, Blue?"

"I do know that," She hums, smiling softly despite her growing nerves. "You told me about two minutes ago."

"Yeah," He nods, wiping a hand over his mouth. "And you know– you know that Sarah loves you, too,"

Sarah nods furiously, smile playing at her lips.

"Joel, is everything alright?"

He mutters a curse, quickly pushing his chair away from the table and getting down on one knee.

"Oh, shit,"

Sarah nudges her in the arm even as tears well up in her eyes. "Language,"

"Sorry," Blue distantly mutters, her eyes bubbling with tears the longer she looks at Joel. “Joel,” 

“Just– give me a minute, alright? I, uh, I’m not the best with words, but I got some things I wanna say to you,” 

She nods silently, pressing a hand over her mouth to hold back the sob that wants to break free from her lips. 

“Every day I wake up beside you, and I think about how lucky I am that Sarah wanted to go across the street and talk to our pretty new neighbor. Without her, I wouldn’t– none of this would have happened, and I wouldn’t have the two most important girls in my life. You love me and Sarah far better than I ever could ask for, and I’ll never be able to thank you enough for it, baby. I,” 

He stops, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “I love you, Blue. I love you, and my– our daughter loves you, so will you do us both the honor of marrying me, and sticking around for a while?”

Blue laughs wetly, wiping her cheeks with a shaky hand. “Just a while?” 

“Forever is preferred,” He smiles softly. 

“Forever, then.” She nods, laying her hand over his trembling one holding the diamond ring up for her to see.

“Is that a yes?” 

“Of course it’s a yes, baby,” She laughs, practically launching herself at him and tackling him to the floor in a hug. “I’ll marry you a thousand times, if you want me to.” 

Sarah giggles, abandoning the table to join them on the floor. Blue and Joel move, easily letting her wiggle in between them, and they all share teary-eyed looks as Joel grabs Blue’s hand and slides the simple engagement ring onto her finger. 

She wiggles it against the gleam of the light before dropping her hand to her chest, clutching it tightly like she’ll lose it if she doesn’t. 

“Hey,” Sarah hums, garnering both adults’ attention. “If someone gets you a dog as a wedding present, can we keep it?”

Blue laughed, shaking her head at Sarah. “Who on earth is going to give us a dog as a wedding present, babydoll?” 

“Uncle Tommy if I ask him to,” She says it fast, and it takes a moment for her words to settle in before Joel and Blue burst into laughter, Sarah quickly joining them in their hysteria. 

Blue lays on the kitchen floor, happier than ever, wondering how moving into a little old house on a random street in Austin, Texas, had ended up being the best thing to ever happen to her. 

[shoezuki]

Ive been almost exclusively watching a shit ton of kryoz. Theres somethin bout how that fucker is chill and just rambles and does random art things sometimes that gets me twirlin my hair round my fingers and kickin my feet back and forth while i lie on my bed giggling and watching his videos

[wheretheflowerbloomd]

they have me kickin my feet back n forth and giggling

[harryhandstan]

wonderful and warm

gif credit

I’m so excited to share this piece with y’all for @tbslenthusiast​‘s dad-a-thon!! I’ve been debating whether or not to expand more on I Want Your Belly for a while now, so I’m considering this part two to that, though you don’t really have to read it first to understand this one. Hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!

thank you @peachybloomss​ and @tbslenthusiast​ for beta reading for me! love y’all both!!

word count: 2.6k

//

You had been adamant about not telling anybody for at least the first two months. 

Your mom’s complications with each of her pregnancies prompted a fear in you that you might share in that gene she carried, so you just wanted to be sure. Make it to your first ultrasound at least to confirm the baby was happy and healthy. Harry, of course, had agreed to whatever it was you felt was best. He wanted you to be comfortable and truth is, all the complications or things that could go wrong, terrified him too.

But the second you put this man in front of a crowd, all his previous filters go out the window and it was slipping from his lips easily, telling the world that you were having his baby. You were angry at first, spending half of the show trying to calm your shaky hands. Honestly, most of it was just nervous energy at the idea of so many people knowing. It was out, and you had no control over the reactions of the millions of people that shared in loving your Harry. He was quick to remind you that you were the one he loved, no one else’s opinion mattered to him and it shouldn’t to you either.

Making such a public announcement meant the news reached your families ears a lot faster than you’d planned too, and you just didn’t want any of them to be hurt that they weren’t told first.

Anne is the first one to contact Harry from his side, promptly inviting you to dinner the following weekend with a small group of Harry’s family. But the closer you get to the day, the more anxious you are and he once again reminds you how much his family adores you already, would now love you even more.

“Even more than they love me now, probably,” He chuckles, taking your hand on the drive to his mother’s house, “Gonna be just like any Sunday dinner at Mum’s, innit? We just have something a little extra special t’celebrate now, lovie.”

Gemma answers the door to let the two of you in and she tugs you in for a hug, pulling you into the house without so much as a glance to her younger brother.

“Nice to see you too, Gem.” He follows the two of you inside, shutting the door behind him.

“Ignore him..someone’s just jealous they won’t be Mum’s favorite anymore.” She giggles, rolling her eyes as she leads you into the kitchen where Anne mimics her daughter’s greeting, scolding Harry playfully that he spoiled the surprise so soon.

By the end of the night, the two of them are already making predictions about what the baby will be, giving family name suggestions, and planning a baby shower for you. 

//

Calling your family was a whole new level of anxiety you hadn’t experienced yet on this journey, and you paced back and forth in front of the desk where your iPad was already set up to FaceTime them. Harry sits on the foot of the bed, waiting for your nerves to settle enough to contact them.

“D’you want me to join you?” He doesn’t look at you, just continues to fiddle with one of the buttons on his shirt.

Your head pops up to where he sits, “Of course I do, why wouldn’t I?”

He shrugs, “S’just..sometimes I think you might still be a bit mad at me. For letting it slip earlier than we wanted. Thought you might wanna talk to them alone first..in case they’re upset with me too.”

“I was never really mad. And I don’t think they’ll be upset..just may take them a little longer to accept that I didn’t tell them before you told everyone. They may not have even seen it yet.”

That was a lie. Your sister had texted you last night saying that she was thrilled to soon have a niece or nephew, but your mom had cried for a two whole days after they saw a clip from the show and your dad refused to even talk about it. Your brother was normally so far out of the loop that you truly didn’t know if he had heard the news, so you make a mental note to call him later too. 

You wouldn’t tell Harry any of that though, not now anyway. Maybe later, when everything didn’t feel so tense. You knew your family wouldn’t be upset forever, they loved Harry almost as much as you did. The joy of having a new baby added to the family would soon override any hurt they were feeling now.

“Harry, whatever they say..this is still happening. I’m still having your baby. I can’t even begin to tell you how happy that makes me.”

The smile he gives you makes your heart flutter, drawing you closer to sit next to him.

“Say that again.”

“What? How happy I am..”

“No, the part before that.”

A giggle works its way up through your chest, a deep blush flushing your cheeks, “I’m having your baby,” You can’t resist, the tune now stuck in your head, changing the lyric slightly to fit, “It’s none of their business.”

“What? S’your family, of course it’s their..oh, right.” He shares in your laughter, melting away any tension that had settled in the room, restoring your confidence that everything would be alright.

//

As many changes as your body had gone through during pregnancy, one thing that hadn’t changed was Harry’s love for your belly. His obsession had grown with each month, constantly finding reasons to be close to you throughout your days spent together. Usually it was a hand nudged gently against the side of your bump, trying to coax the baby to kick or move for him.

Your child already adored the sound of their dad’s voice, would normally start to wiggle around the second Harry would start talking or singing anywhere around you. The first time it happened, the two of you were attending a birthday party for a friend and Harry was halfway across the room, animatedly telling a story to a group of your mutual friends. It was one of the many reasons you had fallen for him so quickly, his ability to have a room full of people so captivated by a tale you were sure they had heard at least 5 times before. 

But he doesn’t seem to care about anyone else’s reactions, his eyes continuously flicking back to gauge your feedback, knowing which parts make you laugh the hardest no matter how many times you’d listened to him tell it. When your mouth falls open with a soft gasp and a hand clutching the side of your belly, he hurries through the ending to weave his way back through the party to you.

“You okay, love? Somethin’ wrong?” The tears falling on your dress don’t match the glowing smile radiating across your face and he’s turning his head amusingly from where he hovers over you.

“Everything’s great, H. Think someone just loves the sound of daddy’s voice.” You take the drink he still holds in his hand and set it on the table in front of you, turning your body to face him and tugging his wrist down to where you had felt the kick moments before, “Say something else now that you’re closer. See if she moves for you.”

“She? You find out somethin’ you wanna tell me, darlin’?”

“No, just a feeling. Haven’t you thought about which you would rather us have?”

He shakes his head no, his eyes bright with a pride you’ve never seen burn so intensely, “As long as you and they end up happy and healthy in the end, s’all that matters to me.”

He scoots his body to sit on the bench next to you, bending his head to speak softly, “Hello, little one. S’daddy. Mummy’s here too. Wanna move around a bit more f’us?”

He rests his head there for a moment, a hand rubbing along the side of your stomach, not caring who at the party may see the two of you or how silly he may look. He looks like a child who’s just been granted his one and only wish when your baby responds, a foot landing against where his cheek is pressed.

“There you are, baby. You kickin’ at me? Cheeky little thing y’are already..just like mummy, huh?” He turns to kiss the spot where the foot had been, ”We’re g’nna have so much fun when you get here, angel.”

//

Harry watches your feet a lot more closely these days.

You didn't notice it at first. But today as you're coming down the stairs, you catch his eyes watching carefully as he waits for you. One of your hands cradles your bump that seems to be growing daily now, while the other glides along the railing to keep yourself steady.

"Am I wearing mismatched shoes or something?" You lean forward in an attempt to look at your feet over your belly, nearly toppling down the last few stairs. The look on Harry's face would have been comical if it wasn't laced with so much fear as he lunged forward to meet you and help you the rest of the way down.

"Careful!" Even with you settled safely now against his side, his voice is full of worry, "Nothing's wrong with your shoes, honey. Just wanted to make sure you made it down safely, know how clumsy y'are."

"You worry too much, Harry. I would've made it down fine if you hadn't been staring at my feet."

"My girl's carrying my baby..m’allowed to worry about you both. Y'sure I can't convince you to stay home and let me do the grocery shopping this week?"

"No, I wanna go. Last time you forgot the bagels."

"Are you ever gonna forgive me for that?" You're glad to see the fear has fallen away from his face as you both reach the bottom of the stairs together.

"Maybe." You shrug, "Might take a few more kisses though."

"Deal." One of his hands comes to rest warmly on the underside of your belly, the other one still supporting the small of your back as he bends down to place kisses across your face.

A kick from within your stomach has both of you giggling and looking down to where it's pressed between the two of you.

"Are you mad at daddy too, hmm? Already two against one around here, I see. Alright then, baby gets kisses too."

//

“Harry will you please get up? We only have an hour to get ready and make it to the appointment. I don’t wanna be late!”

He rolls over, intending to pull you closer to him for a morning kiss, an important part of his usual routine. He frowns when he finds you’re already out of bed, digging through drawers of your dresser to find what you need to get ready for the day.

You haven’t noticed he’s awake yet so you keep encouraging him, “C’mon, made you breakfast. It’s an important day!”

“You’re not allowed to do that, y’know.”

“Do what?” You’re only half paying attention, tugging a dress over your head and scowling at your reflection in the full length mirror when it doesn’t fit over your belly. You quickly pull it back off and toss it in the pile you’ve already tried (and failed) to stretch over your growing bump.

“Daddy’s s’posed to make breakfast for mummy while she sleeps in, not the other way ‘round.”

“Well, mommy was too nervous to sleep in so she’s up getting ready, as daddy should be!” You tug one of your maternity shirts from a hanger in your closet and throw it over your head, declaring to yourself that it’ll just have to do. Thankfully it pairs well with the black leggings you’ve already struggled through pulling on. You plop on the edge of the bed, a deep sigh falling from your lips as you look around at the mess you’ve made of your shared bedroom.

“Mummy needs to relax. She looks beautiful in whatever she wears, no matter what day it is.” He rubs a hand along your back, up to soothe over the pinch between your shoulder blades.

“Nothing fits anymore, swear this belly gets bigger by the day. If I find out today you put a set of twins in me, Styles, you are gonna be in so much trouble.” 

He throws his head back, a deep rumbling laugh erupting from his chest, “Aww c’mon, lovie. Twins would be so fun! Think we’d get lucky and have one of each? A boy and a girl?” He kisses your shoulder.

He’s pulling you in to rest against his chest now, the fabric of his well worn t-shirt cool and soft on your cheek. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, pressing a kiss firmly to the top of your head.

“Just lay with me a minute, hmm? Did you get any sleep last night? Felt you tossing and turning for half of it.”

“Maybe a couple of hours. I was too nervous.”

“You should’ve woken me. Hate the idea of you being awake and nervous alone, honey.” One hand trails up to cup your chin, a thumb smoothing over the tension set in your jaw.

“I honestly don’t know how you got any sleep. I wasn’t alone though, I think I kept the baby up half the night too.” You shift to face him, resting your chin on his chest, seeking the comfort of his face, “Are you okay? You’re not nervous at all?” 

“M’fine. What’s to be nervous about? We get to see our baby today, find out what it is. I couldn’t be happier about that.” He brushes a strand of hair softly away from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

“Maybe it’s more excitement than nerves. I just felt..restless. Maybe it’s silly, but I just wanted to look nice today too and none of my good clothes fit me anymore.”

“You’ve always been beautiful to me, baby. But now? I’ve never seen anyone look as gorgeous as you look now. S’important to me that you know and believe that as much as I do. I’ll remind you everyday if y’need me to.”

“You really mean that, Harry?”

“‘Course I do. I know this has been new and scary for both of us, and I’m so proud of you. You’ve fallen into this with such ease and grace, already started gettin’ our home ready for our little one. I can’t wait to see you with them when they’re born.”

“You’re gonna be the most amazing dad. Teaching our child kindness and love, reminding them it’s okay to be whatever they choose to be. It’s important to me that you know how much I adore you and seeing you become the dad you were meant to be? It’s gonna be incredible. I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else.”

“Me either. Think I’d be miserable if it were anyone else.” 

“Nah you’d get used to them eventually. Especially if they were having your baby.”

He laughs again, pulling you closer to smush his lips against your temple. 

“Alright, up we get,” He scoots away to push himself up and off the bed, offering you his hands to help pull yourself up, “Let’s go see if our little bub got blessed with your nose or cursed with mine.”

//

You’re over the moon every time you see Harry’s beaming smile when he passes the black and white sonogram photo now proudly displayed on the refrigerator; your son’s nose a perfect mixture of yours and Harry’s.

[highfivecalum]

Country Roads

Pairings: Calum and Y/N 

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Cussing and alcohol (I think that’s it?)

based off of this post

*not my gif credit to whoever made it*

-

The sigh you exhaled was one of content, not annoyance, as you looked up at the stars above you. Ever since you had moved out of the busy city and into the country you had appreciated the stars much more. Even though you didn’t live in a huge city, just a small one in Ohio, the country was a big change.

The flickering light on your back porch and the moths that were always on it didn’t bother you and neither did being able to hear the music from the inside of your cute next door neighbors house. At first, it bothered you, but after a while you had gotten used to it, and the fact that he had a spectacular taste in music helped his case.

The cushioned swing that came with the house was a perk since you used it so often it became your favorite spot in your house. Your house was small, homey, but small. Only two bedrooms and two bathrooms; a full bathroom on the second floor and a half bathroom on the main level of the house.

The swing creaked, moving back and forth, as you hummed along to the song you could hear, it being muffled since it was coming from the inside of your neighbors house. The song playing, Take Me Home (Country Roads) by John Denver, had become one of your favorite songs since you’ve moved into the country, and since you lived in West Virginia after all, you thought it would be appropriate to learn the lyrics.

You heard your neighbors creaky door swing open and slam against the wall of his house, and it startled you at first, but you regained your composure. He hadn’t noticed you yet, but you didn’t mind, it gave you a chance to admire him. You always thought he was attractive.

He had tanned skin, no doubt from being outside in his pool with his friends all of the time, the tattoos littering his arms and chest, his plump lips that he always seemed to be licking, and his long fingers that held a cigarette between them. He was a work of art.

He exhaled the smoke, turned around to sit on the railing of his porch, and was surprised to see you sitting outside alone.

“Hey neighbor,” Calum smiled at you happily. You retuned the favor with a smile and a wave. “No beau tonight?”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

Calum laughed and took another long drag of his cigarette. “Boyfriend. You’re usually out here with him. Not by yourself.”

“Oh, right. Him.” You frowned as you remembered the fight he put up when you broke up with him. He begged you, on his knees, to stay with him, to give him one more chance, but you were done. You had given him dozens of chances, but he never changed. “We broke up.”

Calum’s frown matched your own. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry.”

You shrugged. “It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

Calum extinguished his cigarette and put it in the ashtray that was on the small circular table on his porch. “Mind if I join ya?” He pointed to your swing and you shook your head. You wouldn’t mind some company. Especially his.

“Not at all.”

Calum plopped down beside you and exhaled a sigh. “Why’d y’all break up?”

“He was super controlling and wouldn’t let me do, like, anything. Always tried to tell me what I could and couldn’t wear and who I could and couldn’t hang out with.”

You shuddered at the memory of him.

“He was kind of a dick, too, so I was just done with it, ya know? I just didn’t want to be controlled by him any longer. And with the way he controlled me I kind of restented him and fell out of love with him.”

You felt bad when you broke up with him, since he moved from Ohio to West Virginia with you. Even though you assured him he didn’t have to, that the drive between the two of you was only 3 hours, he insisted and basically invited himself to live with you.

“Good for you. No girl should have to deal with a controlling boyfriend.” Calum smiled at you. “And he was kind of an asshole. He would always glare at me when I waved to you.”

“I think he was jealous.” You giggled. Calum tilted his head to the side not quite understanding why he would have been jealous of him. So you explained. “He overheard me talking to my sister about how I thought you were cute when I first moved in and he got super insecure. So I think that’s why he was a dick to you.”

Calum laughed along with you and nodded his head. He couldn’t deny that he thought you were cute as well, ever since he saw you moving in next door to him almost two years ago, he always thought you were attractive.

He jumped at the chance to help you move, and you were thankful for that, but your boyfriend shot him down, not wanting another man to help you move in. You apologized to Calum for your boyfriend’s behavior, but Calum just shrugged it off, he knew how guys could be when it came to their girlfriends. And it wasn’t your fault, so he didn’t hold it against you, but he would still wave to you and say hello, just to be polite.

“So, why are you out here? It’s fucking hot out.” Calum wiped the sweat off of his forehead and wiped it on the black shorts he was wearing, since he was missing a shirt, and the shorts were the only clothing he had on. You didn’t blame him, though, if it was socially acceptable for you to go outside without a shirt on, you would take full advantage of that.

And he was right; it was fucking hot outside. Even with the sun down it was still a good 80 degrees outside.

“My AC broke so it’s hotter inside than outside.” You grimaced at the thought of even going back inside. If you weren’t getting eaten up by mosquitos you probably wouldn have slept outside on that very swing. “And I would invite you inside to be polite, but in all honestly, I don’t want to go back in there.”

“Sounds brutal. C’mon,” Calum stood up and extended his hand for you to take. “You can come over to my place. The AC is kickin’.”

It didn’t take you more than a second to take his hand and pull yourself up, following behind him as you walked the 20 feet from his house to yours. The AC blasted in your face and you sighed happily at the coldness of it.

Calum’s set up wasn’t much different from yours; his kitchen was a little bit bigger with a bigger dining room table in the corner and 6 chairs instead of the 4 you had at yours.

Calum immediately turned the music down and apologized for the loudness, but you didn’t mind, and he sat down across from you at his dining room table.

The two of you made conversation, it flowing easily, and you were happy that you were finally getting to know your neighbor after living next to him for so long. Your boyfriend rarely ever let you talk to him and it angered you, but now you didn’t have to worry about him and it was a relief, like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders.

You frowned and Calum noticed. “What’s wrong?”

“I just feel bad that we’ve never really talked before, you know? We’ve been neighbors for so long and I didn’t even know your last name until now.”

Calum shrugged. “Not your fault. I’ll just blame it on your crazy boyfriend.” Calum smiled, lightening the mood, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “But hey, we’re talking now, so now we can finally be friends.”

Your smile widened. “You’re right.”

Calum mirrored your smile and got up to rummage through his fridge. You stealthily checked out his butt in the process and you weren’t disappointed. “Want something to drink?”

“Watcha got?”

“Beer, wine, water, and moonshine.”

“Ooh, what kinda moonshine?” Your ears perked up at the mention of it.

“Cinnamon Apple,” Calum lifted up the mason jar of moonshine and your face lit up as you nodded your head. That was your favorite kind. And his. He smirked and nodded his head in agreement. Good choice.”

You two drank out of the mason jar, not bothering to get two different cups, and talked and laughed and sang along to the music that was playing throughout Calum’s kitchen. It was mostly country, old and new, and for some reason, it made you nostalgic, it made you feel at home.

You had drank half of the jar of moonshine, and with it being made with Everclear, you were both tipsy and spilling secrets and embarrassing moments to each other. You gasped and shot up from the wooden chair, turning the dial up to blast the song that had started playing. “I love this song.”

It was Tennessee Whiskey by Chris Stapleton and it brought back so many memories.

“Let’s dance.” You held your hand out for Calum to take and he cocked an eyebrow at you.

“Seriously?” He laughed and shook his head. “I don’t think so. I don’t really dance, Y/N.”

“Today you do,” you tugged on his hand and pouted your bottom lip. Calum rolled his eyes, not being able to resist your cute face, and stood up to dance with you. You cheered happily and wrapped your arms around his neck, his going to wrap around your waist. He was tall, sure, but you weren’t short, so your height difference was perfect.

You rested your head on Calum’s chest and felt his chest vibrate as he hummed along to the song. The two of you swayed back and forth with the music playing, not as loudly, since Calum turned it down a bit.

“This is my moms favorite song.” You informed him and he figured that’s why you loved it so much. “Where are you from, Calum?”

You knew he wasn’t from here since he had a foreign accent, even if he did pick up on some country lingo, you figured this wasn’t where he was born.

“Australia,”

You picked your head up and looked at him funny. “All the way from Australia? How the hell did you end up here?”

He shrugged with a laugh following shortly after. “My friends and I wanted a change and somehow, we ended up in the fuckin’ boondocks.” Calum laughed. “But we all love it, so we can’t complain.”

You giggled loudly, making Calum laugh, and you nodded your head. “Don’t you miss your family?”

“Most of the time. We go back home for holidays, so we see them quite often, so it’s not that bad.” You nodded your head in understanding. “Where’d you move here from?”

“Just Ohio. It’s only 3 hours away, so I see my family all of the time. They’re actually coming to visit in a few weeks, maybe you’ll get to meet them.”

“I think I would like that.” Calum grinned down at you which made you smile just as big. You went back to resting your head on his shoulder and sighed in content. “Wanna know a secret?”

“Sure.” You hummed against Calum’s bare chest where your head rested. Your eyes were shut and as you inhaled you could smell the mixture of sweat, cologne, and cigarettes on his body. And normally you would find that gross, but for some reason, with Calum, it was different.

“Ever since I saw you moving in next door, with your little Daisy Duke shorts on and your small yellow cropped top and your matching yellow Converse-“

Your eyes widened and you, once again, lifted your head off of his chest, and looked at him in disbelief. You couldn’t believe that he rembered the exact outfit you had on over two years ago. Calum’s cheeks were a bright shade of red, embarrassed at how well he remembered, and you were sure yours looked the same.

“I always thought you were gorgeous. I’ve always liked you. I’ve always wanted to talk to you, grow a pair of balls and ask you out... but you had a boyfriend, so I couldn’t. But now- now you’re single and I think I’m going to grow that pair of balls now.”

Your face was hot from the blush on your cheeks and you bit your lip as you nodded your head. “And...” you urged him to speak, not enjoying the suspense any longer.

“I think I’d like to take you out on a date, miss.” Calum talked in a fake country accent and your laugh was the loudest it’s ever been and you didn’t try to hid it. Calum laughed along with you just because he found your laugh so contagious.

Once your laughter died down, you nodded your head and mocked Calum’s tone, speaking in your best fake country accent. “I think I’d like that, mister.”

And in that moment, you felt more at home and more happy there, with Calum, than you ever did with your ex-boyfriend, and you knew that was the beginning of something wonderful.

[queen-scribbles]

Such is Life

For the @pillarspromptsweekly Roll For It! I picked my elements this time around, so it’s Raedric, Edér, and... well, I couldn’t decide between ambition, knowledge, and promise, so they’re all sort of in there. You may have to squint.

It was raining when Charity woke up. This meant two things. First, it was probably a good bit later than she thought, given how dark the sky was. Second, depending on how long it had been raining, she and Edér might have to put their plans for the day on hold. Mud made sparring interesting, but only to point. Past that made it more of a challenge than she wanted.

She would have been perfectly happy laying in bed another hour, enjoying the sound of rain and not worrying about how much of the day she was “wasting”, but Sparrow decided she wanted breakfast now. It was hard to enjoy anything with an impatiently meowing calico walking on your chest. And head.

“Alright, al-oof-right, I’m comin’,” Charity sighed, pushing herself up to a sitting position as the cat hopped off her chest.

Mroaw. Sparrow sat on the pillow, tail flicking back and forth.

“What, no mice today? Or are you bein’ a little priss about the rain?” Charity stretched and looked over at the cat. Sparrow just blinked slowly at her. “I’m gonna take that as a yes to the second one. C’mon.”

She took her time preparing food for both of them. The rain had stopped, sun peeking through the clouds, by the time she finished eating.

That was promising. Charity cleaned up from breakfast and dressed quickly. Hopefully the rain had hit that sweet spot of lasting long enough to water everything for her without going so long the ground was completely saturated. The first couple steps out her door squished, water welling around the soles of her boots, and she grimaced. That proved to be premature, however, and further out from the house the ground was damp enough for her to leave footprints, but not so much to be slippery. All the sprouting vegetables and flowers alike had been thoroughly doused, so she’d only need to weed and check for bugs.

Thank Eothas I won’t hafta haul water today. That was getting old. The rain had, unfortunately, watered the weeds as well as the things she wanted growing, so there was more to pull than she expected to find today. Such is the life of a farmer, Charity thought wryly, and got to work.

~~~~~~

Three hours later, she’d made it through the vegetables without too much trouble and was starting on the flowers when Edér showed up.

“Now that should be a paintin’,” he teased, leaning against the fence as he watched her work.

Charity wrinkled her nose at him and huffed hair back toward the messy shambles of her bun. “I don’t really want my eternal bane immortalized like that.”

Edér grinned. “Aw, c’mon, Char, who in their right mind would focus on the weeds rather’n you?”

She chuckled, even as her face warmed. “Sweet talker. Thought you said you wouldn’t be by til noon. You had that trade commission meeting.”

“Darlin’.” Still grinning, he nodded toward the sky.

She followed the gesture to see the sun sitting high at its apex and scowled.  “Damn cloudy morning. Threw my sense of time all off.”

Edér laughed. “Me, too. I was almost late for the meetin’, which woulda been a shame.”

Charity shared the laugh as she pushed to her feet. “’Cause we both know how much you love that part of your job.”

He chuckled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck as if massaging out an ache. “They woulda just waited for me. Gotta have their neutral party so they can yell at each other an’ call it fair.” He grabbed her hand once she was close enough to the fence and pulled her in to steal a kiss. “Let’s have lunch. It’ll make my day better” --he smirked as her stomach rumbled--”and yours too, from the sound of it.”

“Fine, but you’re cooking.”

He laughed and wiped dirt off her cheek with his thumb. “Deal.”

~~~~~~~~~

“So, how’re things lookin’ closer to the heart of town?” Charity asked, tone casual, as they ate.

Edér shot her a knowing look. “Pretty wet, but not awful. Sparrin’ ring’s just muddy enough to be fun, if that’s what you’re wonderin’.”

“It was,” she said. A sheepish smile tugged at her lips. He knew her too damn well. “I’m lookin’ forward to another shot at kickin’ your ass.”

He laughed an playfully nudged her ribs with his elbow. “Figure if you keep tryin’ eventually you’ll succeed?”

“Exactly. Perseverance is one of those virtue things,” she joked. “I keep tryin’ it’ll pay off sooner or later.” Her playful smile morphed into a concerned frown when Edér rubbed the back of his neck again. “You alright? That’s about the eighth time you’ve done that an’ you ain’t even been here two hours.”

“Listenin’ to merchants bicker for an hour’ll make anyone tense,” he joked. “But we might wanna hold off on sparrin’ til tomorrow. To make it a fair fight.”

Charity swallowed the last bite of her lunch and nodded, smirking mischievously. “Sure. Wouldn’t want you havin’ any excuses when I whip your tail.” She set aside her dishes and beckoned him closer. “In the meantime, c’mere.”

Edér raised an eyebrow but complied, scooting closer and sitting with his back to her as she indicated. “Can I ask what you’re up to?”

She laughed as she settled her hands gently on his shoulders. “I may not be as good at them as you are, but you ain’t the only one who knows how to give a back rub. An’ you seem like you need it.”

“Can’t argue that,” he conceded, leaning back into her hands as she started massaging out the worst of the tension. “Gods, that feels good.”

Charity chuckled fondly, her thumbs rubbing the tight muscles between his shoulder blades. “How bad were these merchants?”

“Pretty... mmm.... pretty bad. Why can’t people get along?”

She laughed, hands working down his spine. “I ever find an answer to that one, I’ll let you know.”

“Great. I’ll use it as my secret weapon at meetings like this,” Edér said, amusement in his tone.

Charity didn’t make it too much further--a little over halfway down--before her thumb grazed over a ridge that was definitely not just a wrinkle in his shirt.  “Edér...” He tensed ever so slightly as she left off the backrub to slip her hand under his shirt and trace the scar from where she found it down to just above his hip. “What in the blue blazin’ Hel...”

“Goes the other way, too,” Edér commented with a dark chuckle. He tugged the collar of his shirt til she could see the other end of the scar; just below the top of the opposite shoulder blade.

She winced, mentally following the scar’s path. “Do I wanna know where it came from?”

This laugh was much lighter. “Goin’ away present from the fella in charge of Gilded Vale, Raedric. See, he’d started driftin’ toward being a paranoid-zealot type. Real suspicious of just about everyone, killin’  them for no real reason beyond not bein’ able to tell him what he wanted to hear. Right around when me an’ Aloth started travelin’ with Tavi someone asked her to kill him. Seeing how he treated his people--tree full of corpses don’t speak well of the man in charge--she agreed. So we sneak in, find him.” He snorted softly. “Thing about paranoid zealot types is they fight back real hard. And are very prepared. On our way in, we’d found that he murdered his wife for birthin’ a Hollowborn, saw it as proof she was a heretic, so Tavi was out for blood. I’m tryin’ to keep her from bein’ too reckless, keep Aloth from gettin’ overwhelmed, and, well....” he shrugged.  “Raedric moved fast for a man in full blazin’ plate. It ain’t really all that bad; just looks like shit ‘cause Tavi’s doctorin’ consists of ‘Stitch it up and pray’.”

“This is the man you got the ‘free land for new settlers’ idea from?” Charity frowned, staring hard at the part of the scar she could see. It was pretty ugly on the lower end, tapering off quickly as it approached his spine, then felt much thinner on the high end.

Edér shrugged. “Good idea’s a good idea. Even if it is the only decent thing the man did in the last decade.”

“And it really doesn’t hurt?” she murmured, brushing her fingers over the low end.

“Nope, promise.” Edér turned to wink at her over his shoulder. “It’s more ticklish’n anything.”

She grinned. “Really?” She ran one finger along roughly the path of the scar, lazily zigzagging over it, and giggled when he flinched. “I’m gonna have to remember that.” She leaned forward, resting her chin on his shoulder. “Are you feelin’ better, though? Even if I didn’t get all the way through the backrub ‘fore I got distracted?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, it did helped. Most of the soreness was up top, so you got all of it.”

“Good. Feel like sparring, or should we still put it off?” she asked, sliding her hands around, still under his shirt, until she was hugging him.

“Let’s do it tomorrow. Gives the ground more time to dry out, an’ me more time to relax.” He rolled his shoulders to emphasize the point. “So it’s a fair fight.”

“I do like the sound of that,” Charity concurred. “Then whaddya want to do today instead?”

“You ain’t done weedin’ yet, right?” Edér asked, hands settling over hers.

“Right,” she said reluctantly. “Still gotta do the flowers.” She smirked, “Also, there’s a weddin’ the two of us really should be at least starting to plan...”

Edér shook his head. “Not on the same day as a trade commission meetin’. I’ll stick with the weeds, thanks. You want help?”

“Yeah, but won’t that make you sore again?” Charity pointed out.

“Maybe you’re real good at backrubs and that’s my plan,” he said teasingly.

“You’re just diabolical,” she teased right back, poking his stomach.

He laughed as he shied away from the poke. “Or maybe I just wanna spend time with you, since it’s been a few days, an’ if that means endin’ up a little sore, so be it.”

“Such a romantic,” Charity ribbed. “But if you’re serious, I will take you up on that. Sparrow’s not good for much b’sides company when it comes to weedin’, when she deigns to do even that much.” And she liked the idea of another pair of hands--especially his--making it go faster.

“I am,” Edér said, finally moving to slip free of her embrace. He pushed to his feet and offered her his hand. “Shall we?”

Charity grinned and took it. “I believe we shall.”

[novantinuum]

Kitchen Talk (one-shot)

Mabel is feelin’ mischievous, Stan makes pancakes, and Dipper had a rough night. Just a quick lil’ fluff fic.

Mabel ran around the kitchen, gleefully gathering ingredients for her Grunkle. Flour was found in one cabinet, and sugar in the next. She piled the various bags and containers on the counter next to Stan’s mixing bowl.

"I found the eggs!" she said in a sing song voice, gently tossing them at him. Stan moved quick to catch them, managing to recover two in one hand.

"Whoa there, careful sweetie! This ain't the supermarket aisle."

Mabel rocked back and forth on her feet, grinning sweetly with an almost concerning glint of mischief in her eye. "Just checking your reflexes. Don't worry, you're doing great for a person of your age!"

"A person of my... hey!" Stan barked in mock indignation, shaking his spatula at her. "Are you calling me old, you lil' gremlin? Huh? You callin' your Grunkle Stan old?"

Mabel let out a joyous giggle as he caught her in his arms and gave the top of her head a noogie. Her legs dangled above the ground, kicking at air and coming dangerously close to Stan's ankles.

"Hey kid, hey, hey, careful where you're kickin'! I may be an ancient bag of bones, but I still need those joints. And how 'bout you do me a favor and wake up Ford for breakfast, huh?"

Mabel shot her hand to her head in a mock salute. "Aye, aye, captain!"

He set Mabel down and watched her skip out of the kitchen, down the hall to the room where Ford slept. He couldn't help but let a smile stretch over his lips, watching his great niece. She was a real sweet kid- crazy, but sweet. Humming in content, he returned to the stove top and began mixing batter for some of his world famous Stancakes. He threw a pinch of nutmeg and cinnamon into the mix, one of his little secrets. As he was beginning to pour the first bit of batter into the frying pan, he heard soft little footsteps slowly enter the doorway behind him.

"Mornin' Dipper," he said without turning his head. He knew far too well there was only one twin in this shack who woke up with such a low drive of energy to match the sheer crawl of those footfalls he heard.

The kid only yawned in response, and promptly collapsed half asleep into a chair. Stan watched with amusement as he dropped his head against the table, producing a solid clunk. Dipper's hair was a matted rat nest, and he simply looked exhausted. Poor kid.

"No sleep last night, huh?" he asked, glancing between the boy and the pancake slowly browning on the griddle. "You up late readin' again? I know you like your books kid, but you need ta stop makin' that a habit. I mean, one insomniac in the house is bad enough," he said with a slight chuckle. 

He glanced towards Dipper. For a moment there was no response. The kid just kept laying there. Motionless. Sweet Moses, was he okay? Worry creased his brow.

"Dipper? Hey. You alive there, kid?"

"I wasn't reading," he mumbled in response, not lifting his head from his arms.

"Then what-"

Dipper shifted uncomfortably, lifting his head up enough for Stan to see the dark rings around his eyes.

"Nightmare," he said matter-of-factly.

Oh. Oh. Of course.

"M'sorry, kid. D'ya wanna talk about it?" He flipped the pancake over, salivating a little when it sizzled.

"Mm, not really."

"Does Mabel know?"

"Didn't wanna upset her."

Stan leaned back against the counter, watching his great nephew for a second. The kid absentmindedly picked at his shirt, his eyes unfocused. His motor movements were sluggish. Running on next to nothing. Stan recognized the look on his face- it was on he'd seen reflected in the mirror numerous times over the past thirty years after waking up from terrors, visions of his brother alone in some god forsaken wilderness. Visions of Ford starving, strafed by wounds, at death's door. Even though he may not know exactly what haunted Dipper, he could make a pretty good guess. He could tell this kid needed some time to rest today, some time spent away from town and any reminders of what had happened.

He took the first fully cooked Stancake off the stove, and poured some new batter into the pan.

"Hey, how 'bout we stay in today instead of going to the lake?" he offered, hoping Dipper would give him some positive response. "Watch some movies? You and Ford could play that nerd game of yours, whatever you want."

"I'd like that," the kid muttered, a corner of his lip curling into a half smile.

Stan continued to cook for the next few minutes in comfortable silence, letting the boy rest. The plate of Stancakes multiplied quickly, and soon a stack of twelve sat as the centerpiece of the kitchen table, surrounded by plates and utensils and a questionable carton of orange juice that was probably a few days past the sell-by date. The scent of pancakes carried the other two twins through the doorway, Mabel riding gleefully on Ford's back.

The four took their places at the table, beginning another morning together as a family. An odd family unit they were, but Stan supposed that only made more sense, living in such an odd place as Gravity Falls.

[spicy-border-patrol]

Midnight Encuentro

{ Heads Up: I don’t speak Spanish, and I am not a tech-expert. If you find horrific errors within this fic, feel free to message me. Thanks! c: }

She watched the dark canyon swiftly move across her window. It sometimes broke for an instance, giving her a glimpse at the luminous stars in the night sky. She felt the old, musty vehicle slow, indicating the driver was turning onto another lonely road. She scanned the street, searching for that infested hub full of criminals.

¡Mierda! Why is this town so archaic?

Flustered, she opened her holographic display revealing the satellite image she had found of Calaveras. Although the resolution was quite low, she managed to distinguish a neon sign near the back of the bar. Anything helps at this point. Her eyes make one last attempt at finding the location, squinting into the shadows of several decrepit buildings.

“Here.”

She would rather go on foot. The taxi came to a crawling stop, pulling to the side of the road. As the driver got out to open her door, she brushed her hand across the buzzing display in front of her. TRANSACTION COMPLETE, it read.

She climbed out of the car and into the crisp, night air. “Thanks,” she whispered, matching the silent hum of the canyon. He simply nodded and proceeded to drive away, leaving her alone with the red dust swirling at her heels. Calaveras, huh?

The soft pads on her soles crunched the sand underneath her as she made her way down the road, this time weaving through each building looking for that sign. As she walked further down she began to hear indications of life. Laughter echoed out from balconies, the shifting of pots and pans noisily rang from within doors, and soft Spanish murmurs continuously drifted toward her. At least I’m getting closer.

Out of pure luck, she had taken an odd route and stumbled upon a path leading down a hill. She could see a familiar building nestled between two canyon walls. And near the back wall, a candy red neon skull. Gotcha! A smirk crept onto her face as she began to bubble up with excitement.

-

As soon as she entered the facility she felt right at home. Cigar smoke had filled almost the entirety of the room, giving off a sweet and earthy aroma. Flamenco music danced along the ceiling, melding harmoniously with the bar patrons’ own cante and chatter. Her eyes glanced at each member, analyzing their features for any indicators of ‘El Encantador’. His description was as follows: receding hairline, tan skin, piercing green eyes, and a biosynthetic left arm with cybernetic implant modules. A suave lady’s man, apparently.

In order to blend in with the environment, she perched herself on a bar stool. She occasionally looked across the room, sipping from her martini and clicking her nails against the counter-top as she did so. Finally. She returned her gaze to the bar, knowing very well she had gotten the man’s attention. Her eyes drooped to feign disinterest as he approached her.

“¡Saludos, bella dama! Why, what a pleasure it is to be in such a magnificent woman’s presence this fine evening!” He shifted his weight onto the bar and leaned in too close for comfort, a bright smile playing on his lips. The data was right, he did have a dazzling pair of eyes. “May I ask what a lovely lady is doing here drinking by herself?”

“Perhaps I’m waiting for a gentleman like yourself to come spark my interest.” With this, she took another drink from her cocktail, watching his reaction from the corner of her eye. This line must’ve intrigued him, as his eyebrows raised and his eyes lit up even more.

“And what might that interest be, mi hermosa?”

“Dancing.”

His tech-infused arm pushed himself off the counter and reached out toward her. “It would be an honor to dance with you,” he said as he gave her a devilish grin.

She took it and they made their way to the dance floor. On their way, she had managed to slink her lightly armored coat off and onto one of the several wooden chairs in the establishment. In her other hand, she fiddled with the micro USB drive meant to collect the necessary data on the Deadlock Gang, along with the cybernetics manufacturing information. Not only will I get this moron’s information, but I can probably turn him in for his bounty while I’m at it.

He grabbed her by the waist, his hand tightly pressed against the small of her back. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and maintained an amused smile. He spun her around a couple of times, and she could feel herself getting somewhat loose. Alcohol’s kickin’ in. The music gradually got louder and she could feel the air thickening with sweat.

As they continued to dance, she gently touched his left forearm, secretly searching for a port. In order to distract him from the insertion, she moved her face closer to his and stared longingly at his lips. “You’re doing well.”

“As are you,” he responded. Her distraction seemed to work, as his primary focus became her lips as well.

He spun her once more, this time slowly enough for her to scan the room. She had to make sure no one else was catching on.

In the far end of the bar is where she spotted him.

A man was watching her with such intensity, she began to feel quite uneasy. He sat with his elbows leaning on his thighs, hands clasped together and pressed against his lips. A large, leather cowboy hat sat atop his head, the brim of it slightly cutting over his eyes. This made it hard for her to read his expression, filling her with even more intrigue.

Suddenly, her attention returned to the dance as her partner grasped her chin and pulled her closer. She retracted, but smoothly enough for him to not take notice. His eyes were glazed over, indicating a severe case of intoxication.

He grinned at her again and spoke in a loud, uneven tone, “What is your name, my love?”

“My name?”

He gave a small nod in response, his eager eyes anxiously waiting for her’s. She swayed back and forth with him, contemplating her answer briefly.

Whether it was the multiple martinis in her system or the intimidating man watching her back, she felt the need to be a bit risque. She leaned in close, her warm cheek pressing against his while her lips brushed his earlobe. She felt her hot breath gently blow back onto her face as she let that one infamous name escape her,

“Sombra.”

His sweaty palm left her’s in an instant, and his arm fell from her waist. His bright eyes faded, and his smile flat-lined.

Shit! Gotta act fast.

She playfully tugged at his cybernetic arm, releasing the USB carefully and tucking it into her glove. “What’s wrong, mijo? You don’t like it?” She gave a menacing giggle and a crooked smirk.

He swallowed and nervously looked over her shoulder. “I’ve got somewhere to be.” He quickly darted away from her, pulling wooden chairs behind him to block her path. They screeched against the clay tile floor, tumbling into one another whilst making tremendous noise.

“Tsk Tsk. Don’t try to run away from the inevitable, mi amor!” Sombra shouted, gracefully hopping from one piece of furniture to the next. In the chaos, she had managed to swipe up her coat and throw it over her back.

He burst out of the bar’s metal entrance, stumbling up the concrete stairs as quickly as he could. She followed in close pursuit, close enough to feel the grimy fabric from his grey tank top waving violently in the wind. Almost. Her nails grazed the article of clothing, but he managed to slip away from her.

Why even bother with this tease? Just finish it already!

She lifted a translocator from her belt, throwing it into the air. It whistled as it flew above the convict, bringing it to his attention. After allowing her coat to re-attach to her spine, she clicked the metal piercing lodged in her earlobe. In response, the coat’s back-piece began blinking rapidly. Whoosh! Her body, for no more than a millisecond, contorted and transported to the location of the device she had previously thrown. Now free-falling toward her target, who was frantically looking up at her, she could feel immense elation rising within her.

“Too easy,” her voice rang out in a satisfied tone.

However, she began to notice an oblong turquoise outline forming beneath the man’s feet. Her brow furrowed with confusion. What IS that?

The man quickly began sinking into the dirt road, relief washing over his greasy face. As she came into closer proximity of the man, she could finally make out what that turquoise oval was.

No! A portal?! How?!

She soon landed with a bouncy thud, stirring up the dust around her. She watched as the top of the balding head disappeared into the desert.

“¿¡Qué chingados!?”

Her foot kicked at the ground where the man once stood. She sunk to her knees and gave the sand a final pound. Shoulders slumped in defeat, she rolled her head back to look up at the stars. Their stillness resonated with her, calming the grooves and ridges that had morphed her expression.

“Guess this means no gambling for tonight.”

She sucked in a sharp breath of fresh air and let it out with a sigh. “Might as well go get more drinks.”

-

When she returned, Calaveras’s atmosphere had strangely remained the same.

Guess they’re used to customers chasing each other down around here.

Sombra plopped herself down on the stool once more, lifting one finger and mouthing ‘gin’ at the bartender. With drink in hand, she took another gander at the people inhabiting the bar.

Her eyes locked onto the intimidating man again, except he was not occupying the chair in the back corner of the bar anymore. This time he was leaning back against his chair near the front of the saloon, smoking a cigar and sipping from a glass of whiskey. Along with him sat a busty blonde woman, whose fingers flirtatiously trailed up and down his robotic arm.

Sombra did indeed roll her eyes at this and turned away from the display, downing her gin in one go. “Another.”

-

It was around the fifth ‘Another.’ that even the bartender gave her several skeptical glances. She shrugged them off and proceeded to methodically squeeze every drop of juice in her lime slice into her drink.

“Thirsty, aren’t ‘cha?” A low and husky voice inquired behind her shoulder.

She lazily looked over at him, obviously unamused. “Dancing will do that to you…and I’ve been dancing.” Her eyes narrowed slightly, “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“Ah, I see you took notice of my gawking. My apologies.”

The man exuded masculinity, around a day’s worth of dirt and sweat had dried up on his face. A long nose jutted from his ferocious brow, reaffirming her feelings of intimidation once again. Underneath those brows were dark, ochre eyes that continually swept across her face as he spoke. His square jaw line was framed with a scruffy beard, and messy chin-length hair had been tucked behind his ears. He was undeniably fit, his button-down shirt exposing a set of broad shoulders. He would be considered handsome in most parts of the world. But what’s with the cowboy getup?

“Look, it’s been a long day. I really don’t-”

“Now I’m not over here tryna butter you up, sweetcakes. I’ve been beckoned by….somebody,” He quickly glanced over at the bartender, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “They think it best you call it a night, get some rest.”

Sombra looked up at the bartender, raising one eyebrow at him. “Really?” The poor bartender’s gaze shifted between the two, worry spreading across his forehead as she continued to glare at him.

“Been a long day hasn’t it? Maybe it’s for the best.”

She let out a sigh and nodded. “Fair enough.” She swiveled her stool around, facing the exit. Swinging her legs out and down, she was able to push herself off the creaky thing.

“I’ll escort you to your car.”

Shortly after finishing her last drink, however, did she remember the busty blonde he was with. Her eyes peered over his shoulder to see the lady socializing with a few other men. “But weren’t you a bit busy?”

He followed her eyes over to the voluptuous woman. “Her?” He let out a small, deep chuckle and faced her again. “Nah, I was on my way out before she got in the first word. She’ll do well without me.”

“Not your type?”

He held onto his response for a brief moment, his lips twisting partially into a smile. “Guess not.”

The rough-looking man took one more puff from his cigar and then abandoned it in an ashtray. “Shall we get goin’, then?” he asked as he wove his way through numerous tables, not even waiting for her answer.

Just as Sombra was about to protest this act of chivalry, she spotted a gaggle of gang members lingering just outside the bar. They seemed like a disorderly bunch, shoving each other and hollering into the sky. My reaction time is somewhat slow. It’d be better if I wasn’t alone.

“Yeah, sure.” Her reply is quite delayed, but he didn’t seem concerned. She followed him closely toward the exit, watching with caution as they approached it. She could feel the man’s hand reach for her back. She arched it slightly, avoiding his touch. I don’t need him accidentally feeling my implants. He didn’t force contact, yet instead kept his palm hovering there out of courtesy.

“So what’s your name, cowboy?”

“Jesse.”

They exited the bar, and the once rowdy gang shuffled away from them in complete silence. She tried to make eye contact with at least one of the members, but they all conveniently looked elsewhere. Her brows knitted together, perplexed by the weird behavior. Why the sudden change? Do they know him? Are they afraid of him?

“And what about you?”

Her attention snapped back to Jesse and her skepticism gradually faded. “Huh? Oh. Selina.” She folded her arms across her chest, looking over at him with a confident grin. That phony name is convincing, right?

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet ya, Selina.” He tipped his hat in her direction and proceeded down the windy road. His leather soles scraped against the rigid gravel, providing a remarkably soothing sound to the rather empty air.

“Likewise.”

“So that fella you were dancing with,” His pace slowed as he reached into his back pocket, pulling out a leather case that held two unlit cigars in it. His gloved hand took one out, while his robotic one returned the case to its pocket. His robotic thumb then pressed a button on the side of his middle finger. A small, hooked knife quickly slid out from underneath it. He placed one end of the cigar into the hook and clenched his fist. Opening his fist again, the short cigar end dropped from it and rolled down the hill behind them.

“Yeah?” Her purple irises were now completely focused on his hands, concentrating on his subtle movements.

He placed the freshly cut cigar in his mouth and glanced over at her, curiosity plaguing his eyes. Raising his robotic hand to his mouth, he flicked his thumb with the side of his index finger. The second joint in his thumb locked, revealing a tiny compartment where a flame had arisen. She watched it move wildly in the night breeze, its amber dance enchanting her momentarily.

“Whadd’ you say that made him run for the hills that fast?” He held the flame against the cigar, which crackled under the heat, until it’s end burned a deep red glow.

An evil grin manifested onto her lips, as the recent memory of El Encantador’s reaction flashed behind her eyes. “Guess I shouldn’t have said I wanted to settle down and have twelve kids with him, huh?”

This made him give out another lovely chuckle, and Sombra looked up at him just in time to see a cloud of smoke escape his lips. It floated into the space between them, gently brushing her nose with its sweet scent and then dissolving into the darkness of the night.

They continued down the road in silence, listening to the crickets chirp an eerily kindred tune. Without saying a word, the cowboy peeled off his crimson poncho and draped it over her shoulders. I’m not even cold?

However, this thoughtful action had given her a great amount of comfort.

She had meant to thank him, but she enjoyed the silence too much to ruin it.

-

Ten more minutes passed before Jesse spoke up again. “Although I’m thoroughly enjoying this walk with you, dear,” He looked over at her with a surprisingly gentle gaze and continued,”It’d probably be best if you told me where your car was parked.”

She came to an abrupt stop, realizing she probably should’ve mentioned her transportation situation earlier. We walked all this way for me to end up having to call a cab. “Well, you see…the problem with that is,” She looked around at the various cars parked haphazardly on the sides of the road. “I don’t actually have a car.”

He looked back at her, unperturbed. “Figured as much.” He suddenly made a sharp left turn, reaching into his front pocket for something, and quickening his pace.

She scoffed, taken aback, “What is THAT suppose to mean?!” Her nicked brows pushed against each other as her eyes burned lasers into his back. However, the more distance that grew between them, the more irritated she began to feel. Is this douche really just leaving me with that?

Dissatisfied, she decided to follow him, readying her defenses with an arsenal full of insults. She trailed a couple of yards behind, their footsteps eventually resonating in unison. -…And I’m sure you’ve had sex with nothing but those ridiculous boots on!

Her scowl dissipated as soon as she saw it.

A 1953 Indian Chief.

“No. Way.” Subconsciously, her legs had rushed over to its side. She encircled the vintage motorcycle, examining every facet of it with great fascination.

He jingled a pair of keys in the air. “You betcha’.”

“Crime pays well I see!” She let out an envious chuckle, squatting down next to its back tire for a closer look. Her index finger glided against one of its spokes, and it sent a shiver down her artificial spine. She looked up at Jesse, absolutely beaming.

For a split second his expression turned cold, almost cold enough to make her curious. Yet, the beautiful, black bike had stolen the spotlight. Even under the moonlight, it’s chrome accents glistened with such fervor she began to sweat.

“Damn right it does. So, you wanna ride? Or are ya gonna stare at ‘er like that ‘til dawn?” He dropped the rest of what remained of his cigar and squashed it into the ground with the tip of his boot.

After rising up from the floor, she rested her right palm against her hip. “A free ride, right?” With one eyebrow raised, her distrust of his intentions was very clear.

“Of course. Not that kinda man, sweetheart.” He swung his leg over the bike as if he were mounting a mechanical mustango, his spurs clinking against the sheet metal. “Now hop on.”

Obediently, she jumped onto the small edge of seat left behind him. “How noble of you, vaquero.”

“Now Selina…..before we head out, I’m gonna need you to give me a location.”

She rolled her eyes and quickly waved her left hand next to his shoulder, producing a fuchsia holographic display in an instant. The display showed a map with a nearby GPS location, about a 30-minute drive. “Here.” An old friend’s place. Very discrete. Hopefully not that retraceable if ever he were to come looking for me.

“Can do.”

Her arms naturally slid around his waist as she eagerly anticipated the powerful roar of the V-twin engine. She could feel the tendons in his back move when he turned the accelerator. As he did so, he pushed his key further inward. The motorcycle hissed at first, then began to purr as if it were finally awake. After releasing the clutch, they were off. It raced down the bumpy dirt roads, kicking up debris and dust behind it.

The road eventually led out of the canyon walls, leading them up onto a dimly-lit freeway with desolate plains lining each side.

The only sound for the next few miles was that of the bike’s constant humming. She rested her chin lightly on his left shoulder blade, closing her eyes and listening to its white noise. Her awareness of the passage of time slowly faded away, and she reveled in that peaceful ignorance for just a moment.

The bike eventually merged onto an exit, causing her to open her eyes. As they exited the freeway, they approached an intersection. Currently stopped at the light, Jesse sought another opportunity to speak.

“What were you doin’ in a place like Calaveras?”

She lifted her chin from his back, tilting her head so she could see his profile.

“Do I not look like the dangerous type to you?” The redness of the stoplight enveloped both of their faces, tinting their skin and eyes with electric fire.

“No, no,” he chuckled to himself. “It’s not that. You just seem….different than most of those folk.” He paused, giving his words some more thought. “Too clever for that lot.”

“Well, I like to take advantage of those kinds of people.” Her voice was certain, yet she felt a bit of joy from his praise. “But wouldn’t that ‘lot’ include you, cowboy?”

“Exactly.”

Awkward silence stagnated between the pair. She had become startled by his pointedness, and how his observation was impacting her. He had commended the first aspect of herself that she took pride in: her intelligence.

“It’s McCree.” He lifted his leather hat from his crown, proceeding to ruffle his locks with his gloved hand. After swiping a few strands behind his ears again, he set the hat back in its rightful place.

“Huh?” Still recovering from his compliment, she blinked away her daze and gave him a quizzical look.

“My full name. Jesse McCree.”

“Oh.” She repeated the peculiar name in her head, wondering if she had any recollection of it before. She then quickly became mindful of how trusting he was being. Mutual respect had been implicitly exchanged between them, and she felt no anxiety over sharing her true identity anymore.

“I’m Sombra. Just Sombra.” She fidgeted in her seat and avoided his eyes by looking out onto the asphalt. There was a herd of hover-cars zooming across her view, their blurry headlights distorting her focus.

“I see… so you are quite different.” The light briskly switched to a vibrant green, allowing him to accelerate once again. Traffic and gusts of wind whirled around their figures, pulling their fabric and hair in various directions. She grasped the collar of the poncho that had been draped over her, making sure it didn’t fly off.

She spoke softly, letting the powerful wind consume her words, “I’m also not real.”

Surely, he hadn’t heard her.

-

They finally made their way into the city. The roads became narrower and warped due to the congestion of colorful houses packed against each other.

The bike turned down a dark alleyway. We’re here.

It reached a tiny apartment duplex, the entrance worn from the windy weather. The paint had almost completely chipped from the metal doorway and the stone steps were layered in sand.

“Uh, thank you for the ride. You’ve been very generous.” she said, lifting over the bike as she got off.

“Always there when a dame needs a helping hand.” he shrugged, leaning back slightly with his hands resting on the seat in front of him. He watched her walk backwards, putting distance between them as she did.

“Hah! Always? Don’t make promises you can’t keep, McCree.” She turned away from him entirely, sliding the poncho from her shoulders. She was smiling, permitting flirtatious thoughts to stir up inside her. She tossed the red material in his direction, knowing very well he’d catch it.

“It seems you don’t really need all that much help anyway.” She could feel his smiling eyes on her back as she reached the first step. “But, I’ll be here so don’t get shy on me.” He fiddled with the warm fabric in his hands.

“Will do.” She raised her right hand, extending two fingers out, signifying a ‘goodbye’.

She had her fingers on the door handle when he added,“Oh by the way,” Her eyes looked over her shoulder, meeting his.

A smug grin manifested along his lips as he spoke, “El Encantador doesn’t exist. Never did.” His metal arm revved the Chief’s engine, causing it to growl viciously at her. “Apologies if it wasted your time.”

His poncho had remarkably strung itself across his back again, taking her place. He lowered his face, his hat suddenly covering his eyes from her. A dark shadow casted over it, reminding her of the moment she first saw him.

“I guess it wasn’t a complete waste of my time.” she stated coolly.

He gave her a short chuckle and responded, “I’ll see you around then, darlin’.”

“Maybe.” Her mouth curved into an amused smirk.

That’s when he took off, turning around and riding off into the direction from whence he came.

She extracted the micro USB from her glove, and inspected the now useless, little device. She studied it for a few seconds then lifted her view back to the alleyway, seeing his figure disappear behind a corner.

Did I just get played by a fool in cowboy boots?

“Well that’s new.”

END.