#my aunt (dad’s sister) and cousins (her 2 kids) don’t speak to me or my siblings and haven’t since my grandma died like 20 years ago

[cammie]

maybe the extreme isolation of the characters in my writing is a reflection of the isolation and loneliness and alienation and lack of friends/family that i feel in my own life. who’s to say really

[definitelynotsuzumi]

Zapped to Another World

Genshin Impact x Fem!Reader

I wrote this in my spare time when I was working back in November and thought that I should share this ^-^ 

Depending on the comments/notes and if I have spare time, I may be updating this. 

[Masterlist]

The rain poured down your umbrella. The clouds coloured the sky a dark grey as you ran for the bus. You sighed as you reached the traffic light. Yup, you were definitely not going to be able to catch it now.

School had ended for the year, which meant more free time for you and the new game you had recently gotten into. Genshin Impact.

You could not help but smile at the thought of it. With school out of the picture, you could finally focus on the game completely. There was so many things to do. Farming for artifacts, completing your daily commissions…

You sloshed your way over as the lights turned green. While you love that school is out, you honestly hated the wet weather that came with the winter break and the feeling of wet socks on your feet. After safely crossing the road, you winced as a white truck rushed by, soaking your clothes through as the giant puddle you have been trying to avoid poured onto your skirt and legs.

You let out a sigh as you quickly took shelter under a tree nearby to try and wring out the remaining water when it happened.

“Just my luck…”You muttered as you clumsily balanced your umbrella, “Can it get any worse?”

Just as those words left your lips, it happened. A white flash lit the sky for a brief second. But it was too late. Thousands of volts came cascading upon your body and everything turned white.

“This is your fault.” You heard a voice. It sounded like a young, sulky boy.

“How is this my fault? You’re the one who lashed out when I put down that +4 card down.”

“THAT AIN’T FAIR STILL! I WAS SO CLOSE TO WINNING AND YOU BLEW IT!”

“Uh…What’s going on?” You blinked as your vision settled. You sat in what looked like a library of sorts, with several shelves lining the walls and a long white and gold marble table in the centre of it all. A girl with long, platinum hair glared down at her male counterpart, who huffed in annoyance.

“How about you explain it to her, Artem.”

“Sorry, but I don’t speak to cheaters.”

“Oh for gods sake- fine. We apologize for uhm…Killing you. Truly, a thousand apologies. If only someone can control their temper for once in their life-“ The girl shot a dirty look at Artem.

“LIKE YOU ARE ONE TO TALK! SOLARIA, YOU SINGED MY EYEBROWS OVER KILLING YOU IN AMONG US!”

“Well excuse you! My anger was perfectly justified! You voted me out even when I told you the truth and that I was innocent!”

“DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT WAS TO EMBROIDER AND GROOM THEM BACK TO NORMAL AGAIN?”

“Could you guys please stop fighting for 10 seconds?” You yelled over the noise. The girl and boy finally stopped, leaving you to rub at your ringing ears.

You sighed. Kids were always a handful back in your home. You had to take care of your cousins whenever your aunt was over, and it often resulted with your ears ringing and your head pounding.

“What’s done is done. I’m…well, dead and I seriously have no idea where I am.” You said, trying to stay composed.

“Well…In your human terms, this is kind of like the After Life.” The boy, Artem explained, sighing as he put down his Uno cards.

“Or well, it shouldn’t since…You were supposed to live for like, another 50 to 60 years. But someone messed it up.” The girl, Solaria, summoned a book from a shelf. You blinked as a weathered leather book with gilded, golden pages floated down onto the table.

“Shut up. I said that I was sorry, didn’t I?” Artem groaned.

“Sir Artem, are you losing your braincells? I was the one who apologized. You still owe the human an apology.” Solaria bit back icily.  

With a wave of her hand, the pages of the book flipped and she studied it carefully for a minute before looking back up.

“Well, as a soul now, you have an option. You can go into Elysium or be reincarnated.” Solaria sighed as Artem huffed again.

“Huh. What do you know? Elysium sounds real good right about now-“You thought out loud as Artem’s eyes turned wide with fear.

“Please don’t go into Elysium!” Artem yelled. The books shook in the shelves as his voice echoed.

“Ow, inside voice please? Hasn’t your mother taught you better?” You winced in pain. It seems that immortals had a throat of steel, judging from the way they could shout infinitely.

“I’m really sorry, but if Dad finds out I brought in another human because I accidentally killed them…He’s going to banish me…To Earth…” Artem looked down onto the table.

He was unable to meet your eyes as you stared at him with bemusement.

“Yeah, as much as I hate to say it, please…Reconsider on our offer to reincarnate. He is on thin ice with Father and if he is banished, I’d have to take on his duties as well. I’m pretty exhausted with the workload as it is.” Solaria sighed.

“As long as it’s not Earth, I’m cool with it.” You looked up at the ceiling, which took your breath away. The entire solar system was on it. With it, was the familiar sphere of white, green and blue.

“Hm, that is easy enough. I could reincarnate you into my world.” Artem brightened up.

Solaria sighed with relief.

“And to make up for it, I could buff you up with a couple of blessings here and there-“

“Within reason.” Solaria cut in, with a sharp look at Artem.

“Psssh, as if it’s hard to make a Gnosis.” Artem had considerably relaxed after hearing your statement.

“Are you serious? Don’t you even know the situation down at Teyvat?!” Your eyes widened. Were they talking about what you were thinking of?

Artem rose to his feet, the ivory wings on his lower back flaring. His eyes gleamed gold as he stared down his sister.

“It’s my world. I do what I like with it. If you don’t like it, get a world of your own.”

“You only got your world because Mother took pity on you. Don’t act all big when you have killed so many humans.”  Solaria hummed, rolling her eyes.

“I’ll only grant this human the bare minimum. Anything more, and I’ll let Father know of your deeds thus far, even if it means more work for me.” Solaria glared back. Her eyes gleamed silver as she did so. You felt a shiver run down your spine. 

“That’s all that I’ll need then. Work on your blessings and gifts. I’ll work on mine.” Artem turned away from his sister. The siblings set to work, the atmosphere of ice cold professionalism now in the air.

Solaria rose from her place on the table. With a flick of a finger, the Uno cards vanished with a burst of gold sparkles. The leather book floated beside her as she constantly referred to its pages while flying around the room.

“Hmm…Not much of a combatant, I see. Polearms and swords will probably be hard for you. Perhaps…A catalyst?” She pulled out a bright blue book adorned in gold, with feathers sticking out.

Blowing off any dust from the beautiful book, she casually tossed it over her shoulder and onto you. You instinctively brought your arms up to protect your face but as the book hit your arms, it disappeared into a burst of gold.

“Huh?” You blinked as you saw the book reappear beside you, its pages flipping.

Solaria returned with a satchel and a bag of gold coins. Looking satisfied as she noticed the book beside you, she inserted the bag of coins into the satchel before sliding it over your shoulder. Solaria hummed to herself before smiling again.

Reaching behind her neck, Solaria detached a shimmering teardrop necklace before slipping it around yours.

“There’s nothing special about it, apart from it glowing. I thought it would be a nice touch.” Solaria winked at you. 

Tilting your chin up, you froze with shock as she pressed her lips against yours.

“WHAT WAS THAT FOR?” You felt heat rush to your cheeks.

“Oh, please. Don’t be flustered. That was merely a blessing of mine. It will help you when you need to speak with the natives of the land.” Solaria coolly said as she wiped her mouth.  

You were still reeling in shock. Your throat seemed to tighten as you coughed. 

“..Thank you, for agreeing with us on our selfish request. To be forcibly stripped of our powers can be the worst pain and humiliation a god or goddess can bear.” Solaria murmured to you as she hurried to the end of the room, where she knelt and seemed to draw symbols in gold.

You held back your tongue. ‘What about me? I got zapped to death here.’ You thought to yourself.

“It is done. Please step into that summoning circle there.” Artem held a floating, golden cylinder in his hands. Solaria rose from her place on the floor, gesturing for you to come over.

It was a Gnosis! You were quick to obey as you hurried to Solaria’s side.

Stepping into the centre, you turned to face Artem and Solaria, who stood side by side. They flared their wings as you sensed an energy swirl around you.

“I, Artem, God of the Moon, grant you passage and dominion over my world, Teyvat. Do you accept, (Y/N) (L/N)?” Artem’s voice echoed in your ears.

“I accept.” As the words left your lips, the Gnosis within his hands flew into your chest. You gasped as it did so, a heat spreading rapidly across your chest.

“Be safe on your travels, (Y/N) (L/N).” Solaria flashed a warm smile as you coughed.

“Resigno!”

The gold summoning circle glowed bright blue and you found yourself falling through the blue skies.

You screeched ungracefully as you fell from the sky headfirst. The green grass was coming up way too fast. 

‘Am I going to die again?’ You thought as you held out your arms to break your fall, only for a huge gust of wind to cushion your fall. 

“Huh?” You blinked in surprise as a person clad in green floated beside you. 

It was a young boy with 2 braids, which gleamed blue in the light. His eyes were a beautiful mix of green and blue. 

‘Venti?’ You gaped as he grabbed your hands and guided you back onto the ground. 

“Never thought I’d have an audience during my practice session. Are you okay?” Venti grinned at you. 

“Never...Never better. Thank you...”You gave a thumbs up as you got air back into your lungs again. 

His deft fingers plucked at his harp as he sat down on the soft grass. 

“It’s no problem. But what brings you here anyways? Not many people know of this spot.” Venti tilted his head. It seemed as though you uncovered his secret place. 

“I- uh well...Accidents happen. I’m not a mad fan or a stalker, I swear. Well, maybe I am a fan but still.” You rambled but you forced yourself to stop talking and to breath. Venti is real and he is in front of me. Venti is real and he is in front of me. 

Your heart was beating fast. 

‘I should say something smart, introduce myself or something.’ You thought to yourself as you composed yourself. 

You wanted to at least tell him your name but the words are out faster than you can stop them. 

“Wanna grab a drink?”  

[blank-space-daisy13]

Why I won’t invite my biological father to my wedding.

I wanted to post this on Instagram or Facebook but I don’t want to deal with people saying I’m “drama.” But I wanted to write this out just in case someone is ballsy enough to ask me.

Let’s start off with the fact that after he got with my step mom, he wasn’t really around. He also never really cared or tried to take care of us (my brother and me) unless he absolutely had to.

Before my step mom and when we still lived in the apartment, On nights he had us my mom would drop us off already fed, he’d turn the tv on and go play on his computer until we had to go to bed. If he had us on a weekend, same thing. We’d wake up and he’d feed us breakfast, then tv with him in his room on the computer, lunch, tv, dinner, tv, and bed. When we moved from the apartment we stayed at his buddy’s house where he rented a room but guess what? He’d send us down to the basement all day to watch tv, and let us up for meals.

When my stepmom came into the picture, we started going to Canada. On every single one of his weekends. She was nice, at first. Sooner or later everyone shows their true colors. But she started slowly to get a hold of my dad. (My dad had no boundaries with us and she wanted to “help” my dad learn to discipline, but she’s a little extreme.) I once got punished for saying the word “butt” because we only say, “bum” and he yelled at me. Yelled. I was about 7 or 8. Then I heard my future step mother telling him how good he did. Also while we were there, I remember very few times we actually hung out with my dad. It was always being shoved into the playroom with my brother, future stepsister, and sometimes future stepbrother. (Step mom never had full custody of stepbrother.) We’d never leave the playroom other than for meals like the TV. But at least we weren’t rotting our brains, I guess.

After awhile he decided he wanted 50/50 custody. My stepmom at this point could be brutal emotionally. I remember getting yelled at for not knowing any of my immediate family member’s birthdays. I was about 8 or 9. Kind of shitty don’t you think? Going back to the wanting 50/50 custody, he didn’t actually want us. Looking back I understand this now. He just didn’t want to pay as much child support, and that’s probably the only reason my step mom agreed to this. They treated us (my brother and i) horribly. He moved close to my mom’s to prove he’d be willing to do the 50/50 custody, and at that point it was hell. If we did something wrong, immediately we’d get soap in the mouth. My brother later on was getting hot sauce. It would be for things such as, “not sharing with your step sister,” (which she would’ve lied about) or “talking back,” when as a kid I was asking a simple question about their rules. They had so many rules to the point you didn’t realize you were breaking a rule until they told you it was one. My *fondest* memory was when they’d send us kids to the basement for a few hours during the weekend and then got mad when we went through boxes and such to find toys to play with. Because when they first sent us down there, they sent us down there with nothing at all. Sure we probably shouldn’t have gone through boxes, where my brother and I found our toys that they never put with our step sister’s toys, but they sent us down there with nothing at all. They expected us to “imagine” things with no toys. I also got yelled at one weekend because they asked us to clean our bathrooms. (Step sister and I shared a Jack and Jill bathroom and my brother had his own bathroom as well.) We went and picked things up and went back to play. They both yelled at us and said, “If I had meant pick up I would’ve said pick up. I said CLEAN.” At this point I had never cleaned a bathroom in my life. They gave us the cleaning supplies and we went to work. I did what I thought was the best I could do and then my stepmom yells at me, “That wasn’t nearly long enough!!!! Haven’t you ever cleaned a bathroom before?!” Uh no ma’am, I was literally 10. But that was her favorite way to make us feel like shit. To yell, “Haven’t you done XY&Z before?” Or “You don’t know (blank)?! So disrespectful! You should know these things!” (That was said about the birthdays. Again I was a decently young kid.) But going forward, towards the end of them living there, they had a baby together, my other brother J.

Luckily for my brother and I, he eventually gave up going for the 50/50 custody. But with doing this, he left and we didn’t see him for a long time. 5-6 years approximately. I was 15 when he decided he wanted to see us again, and because of everything we had gone through before, we didn’t want to. I had a choice but my brother didn’t, and I was forced to go.

At this point he had married my stepmother, and was living in the same subdivision, and one road away, where had had a house with my mom when they were married. Kind of awkward but ok.

And I have to say, they were better. To a point. They wanted us to feel bad that we didn’t want to be there. At the time I had a really old phone, not a smart phone, that didn’t lock, but they expected my phone to be on the counter at 9pm every night. They read my texts and held them against me, but when I called them out on reading my texts, they told me I was crazy. I would text my friends that I didn’t want to be there, and that I was uncomfortable. They asked me, “Why don’t you want to be here? Why are you uncomfortable? We understand what we did in the past was wrong, but the past is the past and you have to forgive us!” (One wrong thing I was always taught was you always have to forgive. You don’t always have to forgive for things that hurt you.) Finally at the end of this period, they sat us down and tried to make us feel bad by saying, “If you don’t want to be here, we don’t want you here. We want you to want to be here.” At 15 I tried to explain why this was hard, but they didn’t care. It wasn’t their way so they weren’t ok with it.

Fast forward to my Senior Year of high school, I don’t remember how, but my father and I got in touch. My step mom wanted nothing to do with me because of a dumb YouTube video I made at 14 where I “talked shit” about her daughter and herself. Yes, I did, but who didn’t do something dumb at 14? I wasn’t allowed around their house because HER son had a “drug problem.” (Marijuana) Whatever, I didn’t care. Slowly we lost touch because I was the only one calling, and I got sick of it. I was done. But I was still young.

Fast forward to me being a sophomore in college. I was 20 or 21. My brother had an issue that got the police and CPS involved. My father decided to text me and ask me what was going on. I called him and told him that he had “no fucking reason to know what was going on” because he was never around. He gaslighted me into feeling bad because I cussed him out for 10 minutes. But we kept contact after that because I had thought about it and I wanted to get to know my little brother J more. We did lose contact again but then we gain it back later on.

Skip forward a couple years and I’m talking to my cousin, (another thing was he kept us from his side of the family and I had lost contact with most of them until I was an adult.) my cousin told me he was going to MY little BABY sister’s 1st birthday. My father had been talking to me for a few months at this point and NEVER mentioned I had a baby sister. He told me, “I thought your aunt posted about it. I saw it on Facebook and assumed you knew!” It doesn’t matter whether I saw it on Facebook or not. He should’ve told me. But whatever, I let that go too.

Here is where I get frustrated. I wouldn’t call for a couple weeks because I didn’t think about it. I’ve only seen him twice in the past 9 years. But he would blame me for us not talking, when he’d never call or try to talk to me. It drives me crazy when people think like that. It’s not just my responsibility and mine alone.

Skip forward to a few months ago when he brought up politics. I hated this because I’m mostly liberal/democrat and he’s 100% republican. He called liberals “libtards” and goes, “you’re not a libtard are you?” And when I tell him it’s offensive he says, “It’s just a joke!” But now we’re here and yet again it’s been 2 or 3 months since we’ve spoken because he’s blocked my number. It goes straight to voicemail and my texts aren’t going through as iMessages. I’ve decided after trying for over two months, he’s uninvited to the wedding. He’s never met my fiancé, ever. We were only inviting him to be civil. But if he can’t even speak to me, I feel it’s not my problem, and it’s one less drama issue to worry about at the wedding.

My family can believe what they want. There are so many things left out of this 15 year drama circle of my father just disappearing. And I don’t care anymore. I hope someone asks why he wasn’t invited because I know for a fact he’ll be at least telling the whole family that he wasn’t invited. And I don’t mind sending them this so they can know why.

[fayeimara]

Meant To Be Series || One For Every Billion

1. Operation: Meet Shiratorizawa

*Both written and SMAU parts this epsiode*

You hear the familiar sound as you open the door and look inside the gym. The Shiratorizawa campus is definitely impressive but nothing feels more familiar than walking into a strange gym filled with mostly strangers. Back home or a world away, volleyball is the same, perfect sport.

"Y/nnnnnn!"

You're smiling wide before you even lock eyes with your favourite redhead. "Tendou!"

Your greeting is muffled in a bear hug to beat all bear hugs and you can't help but laugh as you wrap your arms around your cousin's best friend.

"I am glad you could make it." Toshi is standing behind Tendou with a small smile and you pull away to give him a hug too.

"Let us introduce you to coach first, and then you can meet the others."

"Sounds good!"

The three of you walk over to the side where a small elderly man is scowling at the players on the court and when Toshi introduces you, you follow what you know of polite customs here and bow at the waist in greeting, "Thank you for having me!"

"I hear you play as a setter for a premier league."

Yeah, Tendou and Toshi weren't lying about his intimidating demeanor, but you're unfazed. You've dealt with some like him and they're good leaders in their own way.

"Yes, sir."

"You're quite short for your age."

You blink. You're pretty sure you're the average height for girls your age. You're definitely on or above average in your league even though you're not as tall as your hitters. Okay, cheeky, it is.

"Yes, sir. I hear that sometimes from opponents before we play. Not so much after a game, however, if at all." Tendou starts chuckling only to muffle it when the coach's sharp gaze locks onto him for a moment before focusing back on the court.

"Is that so." He finally looks over, making eye contact and drawing out the silence for a few quiet seconds. "Well, height isn't critical for a setter, though it's an asset."

"Yes, sir." You have to bite the inside of your cheek so you don't push it. You're aware of his status and tenure, after all. To someone like him, kids your age with a little cheeky boldness and confidence can be surprising and impressive. Too much is disrespectful and you're still a guest here at the end of the day.

He looks back at the team and you do startle a bit when he barks out, "Did I say it was time for a break?!"

Looking over to the court, you finally realize the practice game has all but stopped. You meet several wide eyed, disbelieving stares before they jolt back into motion.

Tendou and Toshi leave you there to rejoin their teammates with a grimace and a nod, respectively. You just smile blandly and take a seat next to their coach.

-x-x-x-

By the time Coach Washijo blows the whistle for the end of their practice, you've got a clipboard on your lap with notes and the begrudging respect of the ornery man beside you. Yes, you know your shit when it comes to volleyball and you didn't hesitate to use your knowledge to impress. You have a feeling he'll be taking a look at the link you wrote down to your national games at some point given the observations you pointed out. Mission: Success.

As the boys are grabbing water and towels and gathering around, Coach locks eyes with you once again to study you as you smile politely back at him, waiting for what he's chewing over. "You can visit again."

And then he stands to address his team before heading over to his office and leave them to clean up.

You look away from his retreating figure and, oh my, that's a lot of eyes on you. Why do athletes look so pretty? You smile wider and stand to introduce yourself, "Hello. I'm L/n, Y/n, Toshi's cousin. Nice to meet you all and thank you for having me here for this practice."

You bow and they start stuttering and speaking over each other while Tendou laughs, knowing you're also teasing a little. They're clearly flustered so it takes the edge of your own nerves and your smile relaxes into something a little easier.

"Wow.. that was.. different. I've never seen anyone interact with Coach like that." You look over to an ash haired boy, oh hello- "I'm Eita Semi. Nice to meet you.”

He sounds a little brusque.. hmm. He's their setter and knowing Toshi and Tendou...

"Semi-san, your sets... they really show your love for volleyball."

His mouth drops, hopefully in surprise, but you also hope you didn't say anything too forward? You know it's pretty different here and some things like feelings aren't used as carelessly in conversation but.. he's blushing. Oh no.

You try to correct, just in case, "I mean, I hope it's not presumptuous or inappropriate to say! I'm lucky to call myself a setter too, so from one to another, I just wanted to say I can see how much fun you have and it's inspiring!"

Okay, now Tendou is literally dying of laughter, bent over grabbing his stomach but you can see his face and yeah, he literally looks like the emoji that's crying with laughter. And- what?! Even Toshi is smiling a little, he knows that under your calm and playful exterior there's an impulsive, reckless storm.

Semi raises his hand up to the back of his head and you swear he's full on blushing. Okay, yeah, no, you're good. It might sound cruel but when you see people more embarrassed or flustered than you, usually, you find your own equilibrium steadies in response.

"That's- uh- thanks! I hear you're incredible. I mean, as a setter. I- Thanks."

The rest of the team has been looking on and slowly amusement and excitement is like a wave that slides across their features. One of his teammates hits Semi across the back, knocking him forward a bit, while teasing him about compliments from a pretty girl. But you politely pretend not to hear and focus on some of the other members as they start asking you about yourself and answering your return questions about each of them.

I think we can call Operation: Meet Shiratorizawa a success, you think, happily satisfied with the people your dear cousin has to call his teammates and friends.

Prev | Next

Masterlist

Behind The Scenes!

-Toshi is not directly related to Y/n but they might as well be brother and sister for how close they are

-He’s actually her (bear with me, please) dad’s brother’s sister-in-law’s son : Her uncle’s wife is an Ushijima - so her aunt by marriage is sister to Toshi’s mom.. I’m sorry, am I making any sense?

-Their mutual cousins will appear in the story, you’ve already seen their profiles in Family Matters: Kazuya, Akira, and Akari

-Tendou has known Y/n as long as he’s known Toshi and treats her like a cross between best friend and older brother, which means he’s sometimes mean, always teasing, and he will smack, cut, bury a bitch if they hurt her

A/N: Two things.. 1) I absolutely love Ushijima, I find he's seriously underrated. Although I guess I’m guilty here too because he’s Y/n’s family instead of a love interest 😔 If anyone ever wants to see a Toshi fic, let me know, I’ll do my best to work on his characterization 2) CHARACTERIZATION... guys, I’ve wondered this with all the HQ characters I’ve incorporated so far, but.. I don’t know if I’m hitting anywhere close to what they might actually be like in the scenarios I put them in?? So I apologize in advance, and profusely, for all the HQ characters that turn out not quite.. the way they should lol. The writing kinda sorta maybe gets away from me all the time 😅

I lied, there's a third.. I know I've made several posts on days that I've posted so far, and while I do hope to be consistent with a steady couple posts a week (particularly concerning this fic, or rather, not including other fics and stuff I might decide to post as I get more comfortable here), I may not always be able to deliver the same amount of content as I a) am still slowly getting a handle on the social media aspect and how to smoothly deliver it; and b) catch up to where I'm at in the story. So I just want you all to know, I really appreciate your patience with me <3

[respectablesentiment]

It’s Tuesday afternoon and like clockwork, Ellie Williams and Abigail Anderson are in the arcade. Every Tuesday and Thursday they arrive within minutes of Dina starting her shift. They don’t come on Mondays as Abby has swim practice, Wednesdays are out cause they both have soccer, and on Fridays Ellie has baseball. Week in and week out, they are here. Bickering and jeering at each other as they bounce between machines, hogging Street Fighter and stuffing ribbons of tickets into their bags. -- prompt: redemption, day 6 of elliedina week small town 90s AU one-shot, Dina works in an arcade and her best customers are Ellie and her meathead cousin

(day 1: ache) | (day 2: dawn) | (day 3: trouble) | (day 4: family) | (day 5: abandonment)

or you can read ‘crushes’ here if you prefer:

crushes 

It’s Tuesday afternoon and like clockwork, Ellie Williams and Abigail Anderson are in the arcade.

Every Tuesday and Thursday they arrive within minutes of Dina starting her shift. They don’t come on Mondays as Abby has swim practice, Wednesdays are out cause they both have soccer, and on Fridays Ellie has baseball.

Week in and week out, they are here. Bickering and jeering at each other as they bounce between machines, hogging Street Fighter and stuffing ribbons of tickets into their bags.

Dina reckons they’d come before school if they didn’t have track multiple times a week.

She doesn’t know how they do it, feeling mildly out of breath just rushing from school to her shift. But they’re gorgeous and sun kissed and athletic and it shows. Strong arms, built shoulders, trim waists, handsome and freckled and gay.

So gay.

She’s unsure if she’s ever seen Abby wearing sleeves outside of her soccer uniform, and every other shirt she owns looks as though she’s ripped the sleeves off haphazardly.

Ellie’s hair is shaggy, still lingering in the awkward stages of a mullet as it grows from a shorter cut, sticking out at old angles under a baseball cap and often half stuck in the collar of one of Ellie’s flannel shirts.

Dina loses too much time each week thinking about it. Ellie’s hair looks soft, her smile is lopsided, her voice scratchy and she just does it for Dina.

There’s something about Ellie that just works.

It’s always worked.

Dina had moved to Jackson when she was fifteen; she sat behind Ellie in math for two years and she barely learnt a thing. Awestruck and stupid at the slope of her neck and the flex of her arms.

She was better now, her tongue no longer heavy in her mouth and the urge to flee was long abandoned.

Dina had worked in the arcade for almost two years, since she was sixteen, and she’d spent many shifts sitting at the prize counter studying for exams, trying and struggling to learn what she’d missed in math that day.

“Hey Dina,” Ellie says warmly, breaking her out of her thoughts.

“Hi Ellie,” Dina greets, wiping her face and hoping she wasn’t drooling as she forces a smile.

Their friendship was new and tentative. Dina still mildly nervous at times after crushing on Ellie from a distance all through middle school. She likes to believe at times that her crush was gone but over the last few months of short conversations, she knew she was slipping.

“Did you have a good day today?” Ellie asks easily.

“Yeah, it was alright,” Dina shrugs, fidgeting with her pen and looking down at her homework. “We got that history essay today though, so I think another wave of assignments is incoming.”

Ellie grimaces. “Yeah, I’m not looking forward to it,” she says, rubbing the back of her neck and Dina feels two years of her life peel away as she watches Ellie’s bicep bulge in the movement. “I’m not the best with writing.”

“I- I thought you wrote all the time?” Dina asks, swallowing thickly. “You’ve always got that notebook of yours out at lunch.”

Ellie’s cheeks turn a little pink and she glances away. “Don’t tell anyone,” Ellie says, leaning in to whisper conspiratorially. “But it’s all just song lyrics and bad poetry.”

Dina grins, butterflies almost violent in her stomach, her gaze lingering on the slight touch of hazel in Ellie’s green eyes.

“Essays on the other hand,” Ellie smiles crookedly. “Not my thing.”

Dina nods jerkily. “Yeah, yeah I get that.” She blinks, registering her words. “I mean- I’ll pick an essay over math any day but-” She shrugs. “Everyone is different.”

“I’d prefer math,” Ellie says, resting her hands on the counter. “It’s my favourite subject.”

“It’s my worst,” Dina admits.

“If you ever want to study together,” Ellie offers bashfully, waving a hand in the air. “Let me know?”

“I- yeah, yeah I will,” Dina says awkwardly, thinking about how entirely unhelpful that would be and how desperately she’d want that.

“Ellie!” Abby’s booming voice calls across the room. “You gettin’ change or what, dude?”

Ellie sighs. “I’m sorry about her,” she says, rolling her eyes. “She was dropped on her head as a baby.”

Dina laughs, holding out a hand to take some bills from Ellie. “It’s all good,” she smiles, opening the till. “She doesn’t really have an inside voice, does she?”

“Nup,” Ellie grins.

Dina exchanging the money without question, forty bucks in quarters is excessive but they both know it’s nothing new. Both Ellie and Abby worked weekends at their family business Miller Construction to fund it. Neither of the last names are Miller but Dina didn’t question it, always stuck on the image of Ellie in a toolbelt more than anything else. Sometimes they wrap up early on Sundays and come in covered in sawdust and sweat, ready to spend their entire pay and leave Dina breathless.

“We’re getting close,” Ellie says, looking up at the water gun on the top shelf behind Dina.

“I feel like you’d be a lot closer if you just bought one outright,” Dina says teasingly.

“We could never find a beauty like that in the wild,” Ellie says dramatically, accepting the rolls of quarters as Dina hands them over.

She’s not entirely wrong. Jackson was a small town and there certainly wasn’t another place around where they’d find it outside of actually driving to a city.

Dina doesn’t get the appeal, but she admires the dedication.

--

In the following weeks, Ellie and Abby start to come in on days after practice with wet hair and eager expressions.  

“We’re getting really close,” Ellie says again one Monday afternoon. The first time she’s shown up without Abby in tow. “Abby thinks we might hit it tonight,” she continues.

They’d been chatting for a handful of hours, Ellie had come up to get change and lingered to chat until she eventually just sat on the counter. The conversation was easy, Ellie’s smile was bright, and Dina didn’t want it to end.

So of course, Abby finally arrives.

She narrows her eyes questioningly when she sees Ellie at the counter and Ellie is almost immediately pink as she hops off the counter.

“How’d you go so far?” Abby asks.

“I, uh,” Ellie runs a hand through her hair sheepishly. “I haven’t started.”

“Dude,” Abby groans, punching Ellie in the shoulder. “Come on, get your head in the game!”

Ellie winces at the punch. “That was hard!” She protests as she shoves Abby. Abby grabs her and they begin to attempt to wrestle each other, their legs twisting as they both attempt the same move to trip the other over.

“Hey!” Dina yells incredulously. “No roughhousing!”

“Sorry, Dina,” Ellie apologises as they break apart, elbowing Abby when the other girl doesn’t speak.

“I’m sorry too,” Abby says lamely.

“Excuse my cousin,” Ellie says. “She doesn’t have any manners ’cause she was raised in a barn.”

“Hey!” Abby frowns. “That’s not true and we’re not cousins.”

“We are cousins,” Ellie says rolling her eyes.

“No, we’re not,” Abby protests.

“We are too!”  

“We are not,” Abby says exasperatedly. “You’re the adopted kid of my dad’s sister’s husband’s brother.”

“Exactly!” Ellie agrees brightly, turning back to Dina with a smile. “So, we’re cousins.”

Dina tries and fails to hide her laughter.

“Your aunt is my aunt but we’re not each other’s aunt’s children,” Abby tries to argue, looking mildly confused. “So we’re like distantly connected but not related and therefore not cousins.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Ellie says shaking her head. “If my dad is the brother of your aunt’s husband then we’re cousins.”

“We don’t share any grandparents though,” Abby says, scratching her head. “So, we can’t be cousins.”

“Dude, I’m adopted,” Ellie says with a laugh. “It makes no difference if I’m your aunt’s child or your dad’s brother-in-law’s brother’s child, because either way there’s no blood there.”

Abby frowns. “I don’t- I don’t get it.”

“Neither do I,” Dina interjects. “I don’t think I followed any of that.”

“Anyway,” Ellie says. “We’re cousins and we need some more quarters, please and thank you.”

“We just need 217 more tickets,” Abby says, looking up at the water gun.

Dina looks up at the water gun, dust settled on grey and purple body of it. “I don’t know if it’s worth the tickets,” she says apologetically, looking at the small sign reading ‘Redeem for 15,000’ in front of it. “I have no idea much money you’ve spent so far, but you’ve spent a lot.”

“It’s the 1996 CPS 2000 Mk 1 Super Soaker,” Abby says, as though it means something to Dina. “It’s priceless.”

“Is it?” Dina asks.

“It’s the first elastic pressure Super Soaker ever made,” Ellie adds.

The addition doesn’t clarify anything for Dina and her blank expression must tell them as much.

“It was discontinued last year for the 1998 CPS 2500,” Abby frowns. “The 2500 has an even smaller nozzle than the CPS 2000 Mk 2.”

“Is that- is that what this one is?” Dina asks.

“This is the first release,” Ellie says. “The Mk 2 has 25% less capacity cause they shortened the pressure gauge and most of them have a different pump with a visible pin…” Her voice trails off, seemingly a little embarrassed.

“The Mk2 and the 2500 are shit compared to this,” Abby says. “This is the most powerful Super Soaker ever produced, better than the 300!”

“Oh wow,” Dina says politely, trying to force enthusiasm into her voice.

“It’s got the best time, output and range,” Abby continues. “I heard that someone once shot a kid in the eye with one and it removed the eye.”

“I really really doubt that,” Dina says. “Regardless, when you do get it, please do not shoot each other in the face.”

“We won’t,” Ellie smiles.

“Redemption will never be as sweet,” Abby whispers to herself, still gazing up at the water gun.

--

They get it by the Thursday, lugging in several backpacks of tickets for Dina to look at.

“We’ve come for redemption,” Abby says in a gravelly voice, her expression only serious for a moment before it cracks and she’s grinning dopily.

Counting the tickets was a chore and Dina didn’t do it as closely as she probably should have, trusting Abby’s count considering how meticulously ordered and bound the tickets were in sets of 250.

When Dina finally hands it over, Abby hugs the gun tightly to her chest. Dina’s mildly concern that Abby might kiss it.

Ellie and Abby’s jaws drop when Dina takes another identical water gun out from under the counter and places it back on the top shelf.

“There’s another-” Ellie says, eyes wide.

“I want it,” Abby whispers.

“Abby, we can’t-” Ellie tries.

“I want it,” Abby says wistfully. “We can totally get it.”

“We cannot,” Ellie protests.

“Think of how powerful we’ll be,” Abby says, bouncing on her feet a little like she’s torn between running off to play with the water gun or to go back to one of the arcade machines.

“I just don’t get it,” Dina mutters to herself.

--

It takes a week until they show up again; she talks to Ellie at times at school, but they don’t share lunch period and it’s not the same.

Her shifts feel longer, the kids seem more annoying and her homework seems to make less sense.

Their arrival makes her disproportionately happy, beaming at them as they come over to the counter to make change.

“I see you still have both eyes, Abby,” Dina says almost affectionately. “Did it live up to all your hopes and dreams?”

“It really did,” Abby says giddily, her eyes sparkling. “We’re gonna get his brother now, I think.”

Dina grins. “By the way, we just got in Mortal Kombat 4.”

“Finally!” Abby yells, smacking the counter before stalking away.

“I like her,” Dina says to Ellie.

“She’s pretty great,” Ellie sighs. There’s a beat of silence before them before Ellie’s peers over the counter. “How’s your homework treating you?”

Dina groans.

“That bad?” Ellie asks, looking apologetic for asking.

“Math is just not my thing,” Dina says, dropping her face into her hands.

“Can I help?” Ellie asks earnestly.

--

It’s later that night when it happens.

They spend an hour looking through the work, Ellie sitting with Dina behind the counter as she works through a handful of example questions in a crooked handwriting.

And it slowly clicks.

Dina’s almost giddy with relief as she understands. “God, I’m so glad we’re friends now,” Dina says honestly.

“Me too,” Ellie smiles softly, her eyes crinkling.

“You know what’s funny?” Dina asks, unable to stop herself.

“What?”  

“It’s funny but I had a huge crush on you like two years ago,” she admits.

Ellie’s jaw drops. “Really?”

Dina nods sheepishly.

“Wait, really? Two years ago?” Ellie asks pressingly.

“Yeah,” Dina flushes.

Ellie swears, smacking the table in front of her and pacing in the small space.

“What?”

“I had a crush on you two years ago,” Ellie groans, rubbing her eyes.

“Oh for fucks sake,” Dina curses, her head in her hands.

“I know,” Ellie sighs.

“Fuuuuck.”

“I know.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” Dina asks, looking up to question Ellie.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Ellie repeats anxiously.

They stare at each other almost angrily in their frustration, tense and regretful. Dina can’t blame her for not saying anything and she knows it.

Two years of what ifs between them.

“You good?”

They both startle, jumping in their skin to turn and find Abby on the other side of the counter, glancing between them and chewing gum lazily.

“She had a crush on me two years ago,” Ellie laments, the words rushing out all at once.

“Okay,” Abby says, blowing a bubble and popping it before continuing. “But like, she still likes you, so what’s the issue?”

Dina has never hated her more.

“I- Abby you-” Ellie stammers, looking angrily at Abby before turning to Dina. “I- I mean, do you?”

Dina swallows before nodding awkwardly.

Ellie looks elated, bouncing on the balls of her feet slightly with restless energy like Abby the week prior. “Do you, uh, do you wanna go on a-?” She clears her throat. “Can I take- Can I please take you on a date? Would you-”

Dina reaches out to stop her, taking Ellie’s hand gently in hers. “I would love to go on a date with you,” she says sincerely, her cheeks are burning, and she knows she’s probably blushing just as much as Ellie.

They smile at each other eagerly, thrumming with excitement and giddy with affection.

“So like,” Abby interrupts. “Can I get some more quarters, though?”

 (Ellie has baseball practice after school the next day. Dina has the night off work, so she sits in the stands, her homework open and ignored in her lap. They go to a diner for burgers and fries afterwards, holding hands across the table, and they have their first kiss that night at Dina’s front door.)

:)

[peechbea]

@yukiteruakari said: Ooooh I wanna know more about your headcanons :>>

idk if you meant abt the fic or Leon in general but i’m using this opportunity to ramble anyway, rip-

right off the bat, i hc that Leon’s mother died during childbirth and his father was devastated about it, but in order to support himself and Leon, he moved in with his brother and sister-in-law. since Leon grew up in the same house as Kanon, that's why he views her as more of a sister than a cousin

this is one i’ve already talked about here BUT, i hc Leon’s real name to be Kazuo Kuwata, but that’s also his father’s name, so before he changed his name, people called his father by his name and then they called Leon “Kazzy” or “Kaz”

( hearing people call Kazuichi “Kaz” still throws him for a loop )

he doesn’t like violence actually!! he’s temperamental and snarky sometimes, but he’ll avoid violence whenever he can, unless he has to, yknow,,,defend himself, just in case that would ever happen lol-

to add onto the above, i also like to think he stays far away from violence because he didn’t as a kid and it landed him in juvie ( which i also like to think is where he met Mondo briefly, but neither of them really remember each other )

and to add onto THAT, while he will avoid throwing a punch if he can, he will absolutely intervene if other people are getting hurt. even at the risk of his own safety, he’ll be the diversion so the original victim can escape bc, unlike the victim, he actually CAN defend himself if he needs to

in the game, it’s quickly brushed over but they mention breakfast meetings and after Toko says she’s never had breakfast with anyone before, Leon also joins in and says that it’s “been a while for him too”, so i like to think he USED to have breakfast with his family a lot as a kid, but then when tensions grew between him and his dad, he eventually stopped showing up altogether

the hair stylist he talks about in his FTE is actually an ultimate and a good friend of his and her name is Kaori, but they only really talked in the time Leon attended Hope’s Peak so he forgot her name by the time the KG rolled around

his hair is actually brown and surprisingly wavy, he just slathers it in hair gel to keep it upright

to add onto the above, Kazuo has blonde hair and green eyes while Leon has brown hair and blue eyes, which are both traits of his mother. the fact that he looks so much like her yet keeps changing his appearance is another thing that pisses his dad off, mans never coped with her death properly

this one may get a little long, but bear with me: when he and Kanon were kids, his dad was incredibly closed off emotionally, his uncle was VERY busy, and his aunt always felt like she was trying to be his mom and he didn’t really like that, i like to believe there wasn’t really anyone for he or Kanon to go to if there was a problem. so, in order to be the big brother figure he believed Kanon wanted him to be, he shoved his own emotions and problems way down and focused on helping her instead. since he was really the only person who ever cared for her or tried to support her, that’s why she got way too attached to him. he just didn’t realize how bad it was until they got older, and he feels bad about possibly cutting her off because there’s no one else for her to go to.

thanks to how he grew up, he is INCREDIBLY closed off and doesn’t like showing his emotions to anyone because helping people is HIS job, he can’t have people help him if they see him break, that’s not how it works 

AND ANOTHER THING, since he often felt alone as a kid, he sought out attention from other people, so he thrived on the approval that baseball gave him. eventually, he kind of got addicted to that attention and would seek it out in any way he could. he quickly found out that bad attention often kept people talking about him more often than good attention did, so he built up a reputation as a player even though he was never really interested in girls to begin with

( speaking of, i do think he is homoromantic/pansexual, if that clears up any confusion there might’ve been rip )

he's also just, really good at masking how he feels?? like, i could look at his behavior in chapter 1 as just something to make the game run smoothly, but i wanna look at it like this: Leon is panicking, he's stressed because he committed a murder that he JUST found out he's going to have to try and get away with, and yet his behavior doesn't even change. he wears his usual mask, makes his usual comments, still has the balls to be kind of an ass to Toko, and all this while he's probably crumbling inside. he has had so long to cover his feelings, man-

also?? he will always introduce himself as “Leon Kuwata”, but when he’s alone and talks to himself out loud, he still refers to himself as Kazuo

despite being an extrovert, he's still incredibly anxious, and that extends to public outings!! because of this, he's developed a kind of code for his friends so they know what he needs since words don't always work. a tug to someone's sleeve means "i need a second to calm down", two tugs means "i'm uncomfortable" or "i don't like this conversation/what's happening", and three means "my social battery is out" or "i need to leave ASAP"

the clip on his jacket and all those rings + his necklace??? they're there for show, mans has ADHD he needs stuff to fidget with

sometimes his brain is on autopilot and his thoughts mix with that autopilot, which sucks when he has to sign autographs. there’s been times where he’s signed things as “Kazuo Kuwata” and just prayed no one mentioned it

he doesn't trust easily!! not because he doubts people's intentions, but because he can't be sure they won't try to 1) use his fame to propel themselves upwards or 2) help him with his problems, which circles back to an earlier point. he loves to be seen but god forbid anyone understand him

his wikipedia page? nearly empty. it has his feats and public information on it, but stuff like his birthday or his real name aren't correct. the part where it would mention his life story & background is completely blank. he's also edited his height to say 6'0" ( ~182 cm ), this is not true, his shoes just give him a little extra height

 this one is just self indulgent but i like to think he’s drawn to Byakuya because he has his entire life planned out for him and has for a long time, meanwhile Leon has no idea what he wants to settle on for sure and is anxious/stressed but Byakuya never seems to be like that. he always seems cool and collected, and as Leon’s polar opposite, it’s only natural that he’s drawn to him

[reginaofdoctorwho]

weird shit that would probably have something to do with me in a horror movie

no one wanted this but i’m bored and found a bottle so you’re all getting it. yes these are all true. check the tags, if u think i’ve missed something please let me know!

there was a murder (technically, i don’t really count it as a murder) next door when i was four years old on christmas morning

the weird antique glass bottle i found half-buried in the woods in the woods yesterday with living bugs in it that made no attempt to leave it once i uncovered it

there is a local cult in the next town over. this is not the same as the local cult that was in the other town over where my mom grew up

random completed animal skeletons in the woods behind our house, i’m talking prey and predator, both laid out like in a goddamn scientific diagram. for a while there’d be ones in the middle of our yard, always the same type of animal, always just the bones and nothing else, laid out like it was posed. this has been happening for over half a decade and we have no fucking clue how, why, or who is doing it

the screaming from the woods that i’m going to assume is a fox

my sister almost dated a murderer. his niece or something is in my class

there is a house that is now part of a “local ghost tour” that belonged to my great+ grand parents during the civil war where my great+ aunt died allegedly murdered by her husband who is actually blood related to me. family history says she died of childbirth, which given that it was the 1800s... probably is true

there was an actual murderer in our family a few generations back but he married in and killed his wife and her sister. they didn’t find out about it until they read his journals after he died where it apparently told everything he did and they decided. “well, that wouldn’t look good for the family, and they’re already dead anyway” and just kept it hidden??

the fact we have my great great grandmother’s dress from probably 1890s or 1900s. even more so the fact that i fit in it. if this was fantasy horror (vampires, some immortal thing or ghost) i’d be fucking dead or cursed

fairly certain i was possessed by the ghost of a puritan as a kid

my family seems to have a curse with babies and nurses? my great uncle died when he was born because long story short, hospitals were the new hot thing, he was perfectly healthy, then a nurse dropped him and he died instantly. my sister died when she was a toddler and the hospital actively tried to delete her hospital records to cover it up and ended up getting fined by the state for it. the nurses responsible were not arrested or punished in any way.

my family all has fucked up connective tissue, in my brother it was bad enough he had to get a steel bar in his chest so it wouldn’t cave in.

the many times i have almost drowned, sometimes due to intentional actions by humans (my dad, it was my dad)

this in addition to the other fucked up shit he did before the divorce when he still lived here, including but not limited to: killing my mom’s favorite pet goat, hanging its skull in a tree, and leaving the body in the woods. not letting his kids learn how to cook. anytime someone asked him to cook he’d put as much pepper/hot sauce in as he could (even for like, scrambled eggs) and give it to the youngest person, usually a toddler. this was me at times. taking his kids out to the woods and threatening murder. taking his kids out to the woods and threatening burning. purposely locked the basement from the inside so we couldn’t get the gaping hole in the stairs leading to one of three kids rooms fixed. tearing up pictures of the kids whenever my mom did something he didn’t like. i had more here but i tried to cut it down a litttle

people have threatened to murder me before. one time a girl didn’t threaten, and actually acted like she was starting to like me, but her cousin read her diary or something and found out she was planning to commit a lot of murder, and told her parents and she got sent to a psychiatric ward for a couple weeks

my mom lived down the street from a family that got axe-murdered by one of their two sons when she was a kid. the murderer did get out on an insanity plea and is still in the area. also their neighbor’s mom “lost her mind” (how the story was told) when she had to protect their kids while her husband went over to try to protect the non murderer son when he got home from school and ran over screaming about his brother trying to kill him and had killed their parents

also she knew a girl who almost got kidnapped by this really fucked up traveling serial killer that has his own wikipedia page that is,,, lengthy. the girl had [alleged] mafia ties, and the guy ended up dying shot by police despite them being told to bring him in, which sounds kinda suspicious

long story short i’d probably be the sequel where one comes back

apparently i go to the “bad” school, which i found out in a coffee shop when i overheard two girls talking about how one’s dad went there and how horrible and dangerous it is

school fights are weird. either they don’t happen or they come freakishly close to murder. people slam heads into lockers, stomp on bones, drag people by hair along the ground. one time in my brother’s class a 4′9″ girl sent a 6′2″ football player to the hospital. there was video of a fight a couple years ago that’s still around. it was brutal, but also one of the girls fighting was taking one for the team in it and got the other kicked out

we don’t have a ceiling in all of the third floor, and the cafeteria has 2. this is not relevant in any way, but it’s important to me that you know this

also the guys kept ripping the heating vents/radiators/whatever off the walls in their bathrooms and got almost all the bathrooms locked. including the girls’ ones.

also everyone kept punching holes in the walls so on some of them it’s just,,, metal sheeting down the whole hallway

there are so many fucking shootings in the next town over. literally five years ago it was this nice place where kids would go on history tours, i did when my sister worked for that group. now there is pretty much one business that has not been held up at gunpoint, and if u look up to the serial killer bullet point, it is for v similar ties. it’s a pizza place and if u ever stop by u gotta try it

women in my family have weirdly good intuition but every couple generations we get doubtful. my great grandma didn’t want a hospital birth but decided “hey it’s the hot new thing for a reason”, my mom switched churches based on nothing but intuition and it turned out someone was a pedophile there (found out years later), i instantly could tell my friend’s boyfriend was a pos and wasn’t surprised later when he told her he’d murder and dismember me in front of her, and upon meeting him told him he was a fucking coward and couldn’t do it. he broke up with her a month later.

i was really good friends for a while with two guys that burned a building down. yes they were arrested. i was friends before and after the fire. they’re pretty nice, but this girl they used to date (at different times, they were brothers, yes it was fucking weird and uncomfortable for everyone involved except her but that’s it’s own thing) said some fucked up shit and it was the closest i ever got to starting a fight. anyway i’m still friends with both on facebook. one of them shares a lot of king of the hill memes

speaking of that fight, i 100% would’ve tried to kill her in that moment. u know that john mulaney quote like “i didn’t understand how a person could want to kill another person. then i got cheated on, and i was like ‘oh, okay.’”? that was me, but replace “cheated on” with she told me it was good my five year old sister was dead because she was a waste, and told me she hoped i’d die of covid”. it was mainly the sister thing. i couldn’t move because if i did i’d start a fight with the [way] above mentioned shit.

my family has a literal feud with a local farming family. i mean, we keep farm animals (sheep, goats, chickens), these people have that, pigs, and crops too. the feud was because their great uncle (or great grand uncle, i’m a little fuzzy on the details) published an autobiography (despite not being anyone famous/important) and in it talked about when he was friends with my grandfather and how creepy my great grandfather was (this was the one with the dead firstborn son) because he kept newspaper clippings of the Lindbergh baby’s kidnapping and murder pinned to a board on the wall of his office/basement. also because he was a child of german immigrants who wanted to fight against nazis in WW2 (how suspicious [sarcasm]). members of their family are in my grade. they charged my sister for almost half an extra pound of goods, too, which just revitalized it.

i live by corn fields. i am surrounded by cornfields. (joke one)

i was friends for a while with this girl whose baby teeth,,, didn’t really fall out completely? she was 17 the last time i saw her in person, she’s probably 19 now and judging by her facebook pictures they’re still Like That. she had a very symmetrical mouth/teeth, which made it weirder. just to clarify, she had some of her baby teeth pushed forward and up, so they kind pointed out a little? and all her adult teeth. she was literally so pretty.

a teacher who is v sexual with his female students came into my english class (he is a science teacher) to demand why i wasn’t signed up for his class. we then both became increasingly passive aggressive and he told the whole class where i live with specific directions and landmarks. the guy sitting next to me had to try to tone things down despite being obviously confused as to why it was even happening (me too buddy). he lives down the road from my sister. when my niece had her birthday party at our house i was outside setting things up and he slowed his car down and honked at me. fuckin creep

[nadiaportia]

Prompt 2 - Parents: “De Rubalcaba y Saavedra”

For @arcana-echoes​

Summary: Ximena reminisces over two important people in her life she usually doesn’t think about. 

Word count: ~2000

I had the most annoying case of writer’s block for this one when I didn’t know which way of storytelling I wanted, changed what I originally had (the first draft featured a lot more Rubalcaba sisters and took place in Calpacia) and got the idea for this while cooking with a friend. Apologies for the delay and for any grammatical errors or typos but I had to get it out of my system. Enjoy!

“Y’know, it was my mother’s birthday yesterday.”

The words slipped out of Ximena’s mouth before she realized she had actually voiced them out loud and it wasn’t just a stray thought when she saw Asra looking at her with wide eyes. 

“Oh.” 

He stopped tying together the bundles of sage and reached out to gently touch her hand.

“Ah, it’s fine. I guess I was just too preoccupied with everything going on to remember it. And it’s not like I would have received an invitation to her birthday party anyway.”

Her attempt at a dry laugh was somehow deflated by the sad look Asra gave her, and she immediately felt bad for making light of it. 

“Don’t feel bad about it. I almost forgot about my father’s birthday once, it happens to the best of us.”

Ximena sighed but nodded. The thing was that the relationship between Asra and his parents had been vastly different than the one between hers. 

“What did you usually do on her birthdays?” Asra had leaned with his back against the kitchen counter. Oh, so this was officially a break from work and story time. Ximena thought about whether to indulge him or not; despite knowing each other for quite some time, she had barely talked about her, or her father for that matter. Her sisters, her cousin and her aunt were frequently featured but for some reason she herself didn’t even know both Marisol and Valentín appeared rather rarely in her stories. 

“There usually was a dinner with her favorite foods from all over Calpacia, and each year we gifted her something different - one time Cibela composed a piece for her, Heloisa wrote a play for her with us as the actors and I drew her as the mother of ancient gods once.” Ximena remembered how proud she had been that day when she saw the awe and happiness on her mother’s face. “The dinners were always attended by the nobles closest to her and occasionally also the Zaan, for her 50th they threw her a rightfully huge celebration on the palace grounds, with an orchestra, a huge buffet and everything her heart desired.”   

“Something tells me that this was even more over the top than Count Lucio’s birthday parties.”

Ximena shrugged. She avoided the Palace, and with it the masquerades thrown in honor for Vesuvia’s sovereign, so she couldn’t make a comparison.

“She definitely gave her love for pompous celebrations to Heloisa. They were the only ones who loved those parties and took it way too serious. Agustín, Esmé and I were fine with them, we just retreated into some corner and had conversations but Cibela hated them.”

“What about your father?”

“Well, he wasn’t exactly the social butterfly of the two, but he enjoyed himself. I think part of it is because they met at such a party.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, it was actually Tía Esmé’s birthday party which my mother helped organize. Mamá would occasionally tell us about the first time she saw him --” Ximena shifted her posture, adopted a dreamy look on her face and clasped her hands in front of her chest.

“‘There he stood by the window -- wearing that dashing costume made of golden silk, the most handsome man I have ever laid eyes upon.” She dropped her hands to her sides as Asra watched her with fascination.

“Wait, she invited him to the party despite not knowing him?”

Ximena shrugged. “She invited some members of the Merchant fleet, despite not all of them being nobles but since they were basically aristocracy-adjacent, no one really batted an eye. Now, as for marrying a non-aristocrat, that’s an entirely different thing.”

Asra scoffed. She had told him about the strict division of class back in Calpacia, and had called it horrendously intolerant. Part of this system had been what saw the peasants and ordinary people as disposable tools for the aristocracy to use according to their will, including to fight their petty wars. 

“They married regardless?”

“Well, back in those days, Esmé was the heiress to Marquesa Constanza, and she vouched for my parents. It wasn’t a scandal despite having potential to be one but given that my father was just a few steps away from aristocracy and had an aunt who happened to be a noble, it really helped their case.”

“Good for them.”

“Yeah. The wedding was really grand. Esmé told us all about it when I was younger, it always sounded to me like something out of a fairytale.” She sighed. “But I think if I were to marry, it’d do with as few people as possible. Hell, Segismundo can be the only witness when my spouse and I exchange vows for all I care for, I don’t care much for grand gestures.”

Asra nodded. It was then when Ximena realized just how awkward it was to discuss a potential marriage with her… well, ex-lover. They were too many things at once, roommates, co-workers, close friends, amicable exes, and most conversations didn’t really get weird; except this one. 

For a moment, she wondered what marrying Asra would be like. She doubted much would change between them; not a lot had changed while they were together, except that they became more romantically affectionate and the sex might’ve been gotten more frequent --

She stopped herself at once. Knock it off. Thinking about the sex with the ex with whom you still live and work with while you’re talking about your parents is weird. 

Ximena cleared her throat. “Either way… that’s how my parents got married and when Cibela was born, Tía Esmé abdicated the title of marquesa so my mother really won at the lottery that day. Yay for us, I guess.”

“She abdicated? You never told me that… but wasn’t your aunt a whole general?” Asra furrowed his brows. 

“Yeah, and choosing to not become a courtier was what made her fall out of favor in my grandmother’s eyes. She wanted a pawn at the court, not a grand marshal who acted independently. My mother fulfilled that role just fine by the time Cibela was born so Esmé gave her title and made a name for herself -- well, a bigger one than she already had. That turned my father into a marqués but it’d never be enough of a status elevation to override the Rubalcaba name so that’s why my sisters and me are ‘Rubalcaba y Saavedra and not ‘Saavedra y Rubalcaba.” Ximena gave a sardonic laugh. “Then again, technically speaking, I’m neither these days.”

“If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine.” Asra said. Something in his voice said clearly that he wanted to know more though, as did his body language. 

This was Asra she was talking to, who shared basically everything with her. The most she could do was give him a little back.

“No, don’t worry, I’m fine.” She paused for a moment and an awkward silence hung in the air between them.

“Sooo, what were your parents like?” Asra asked quickly. “I mean, what kind of people were they? I feel like your mum was the life of the party while your dad was more like… you.”

Ximena scoffed with amusement. “Yeah, I suppose that is kind of fitting. The quiet type, it rubbed off more on Cibela than me though. She was their favorite, which makes sense since she’s the firstborn, he even took her on one of his journeys when she turned fifteen. I don’t think he and Heloisa ever found a lot of common ground but then again, she always was sort of the troublemaker. I think he saw more of himself in me, and he loved the way I painted, how I closed myself off from the world when I was working to the point where I think he wanted me to pursue that career and not at the Guild. He was sweet, very gentle and whenever he sang, Mother would cry because it sounded so beautiful. She was a firecracker, turned heads wherever she went. She could always make me laugh even when I was sad as a small child, and loved seeing me do magic. I always wanted to be her as a kid, have the same way with words, to be instantly liked, hell, even be a courtier. I thought being an apprentice was awfully boring at first, which is hilarious because Heloisa thought being a courtier was boring as hell and all she wished for was to be a warrior like Cibela or a magician like me. But Tía Esmé said that I had gotten my father’s ‘tranquil mystique’ that drew people in, as well as his ability to read people.”

“I mean, you do have a ‘tranquil mystique’ which can be extremely charming.” Asra’s lips curved into a smile.

“Thank you, Asra, really.” Ximena replied. The smile on her face didn’t fade when she spoke next, and it had been something that had been bubbling underneath the surface ever since the conversation had turned towards this topic.

“And yet… in hindsight, they kind of sucked as parents. I mean, sure, they were nice, but… good grief, they were so absent in our lives from some point onwards -- even with Cibela, who they favoured to all hell and back! I really felt more like Esmé was my mother more than my actual mother at times!” She laughed. It wasn’t a particularly nice sound, much too bitter and dry but somehow she just felt the need to air her grievances.

“And then because Father was marqués he became more busy, went on more journeys, spent less time at the residence, and then didn’t come back from his trip to Fuck-knows-where alive and it changed Mother so much -- she was irritated more often than not, angry with Tía Esmé and by the time she became ill, she had all but locked herself up in the Summer Palace on our island in the Gulf of Cartagenth. And you know what’s the weird thing about all of this? I didn’t care about it at all. And that’s why I’m surprised in the first place about even remembering this birthday at all, because I’m so used to not caring that suddenly doing so just feels… idiotic.”

Ximena took a deep breath. Asra reached out as she sighed and rubbed her arm, obviously a bit surprised at her small outburst.

“I’m sorry. I wish… you had spent more time with them, and that they would have there for you when you needed them.”

Part of Ximena welcomed Asra’s sympathy, the other wanted to push it away and wrote it off as pity. She said nothing, merely nodded and wrapped her arms around herself. 

“Do you still want to make something for your mum’s birthday?” Asra asked slowly. “It could feel nice, and maybe then you won’t think of it as ‘idiotic’ anymore.” 

Ximena bit her lip. Maybe he was right… hell, Asra was by some miracle almost always right and taking his advice usually proved to be a step in the right direction. Perhaps swallowing her pride would be nice for a change, considering how admittedly damn hard it tended to be. 

“We could make a cake, and if you want it to not just be the two of us, Sayelle can join us.”

“Well, she doesn’t even know who I really am.”

Asra sighed. “You wouldn’t need to tell her, of course -- unless you want to do that as well. I know it took you some time to tell me, so I don’t wanna push you. But she’s a good person and a dear friend, I trust her to keep your secret.”

Ximena raised an eyebrow and eyed Asra. Truth be told, from the amount of time she had spent with the Bizateni magician who owned a shop for magical supplies as well as antiquities, she liked her but this… it was quite the thing to tell someone else. 

“I’ll think about it. The birthday is over anyway, so one or two days later won’t have my mother spinning in her grave more than she already might be.”

[mikkomacko]

Christmas Magic 2

The smack delivered to her arm stings against her bare skin, y/n flinching immediately. "He's a dad?" Emma exclaims loudly, dropping her candy cane striped hat to the floor. "You're going out with someone's father?"

"Would you chill, it's not like he's forty!" Y/n hisses, rubbing at her bicep that Emma had slapped in reaction to y/n telling her about Harry. She pulls down the skirt of her Mrs. Claus dress, smoothing out the white fuzz at the edging.

"But he's like had a child," Emma says as if y/n's missing something obvious. "you'd be like a mom but not a mom."

She can't help but roll her eyes at her friend and co-worker's words. "Dad's deserve rights too, you know? Especially hot dads."

Emma laughs at that, swatting at her arm again. Thankfully it's playful this time. "Ok but how hot is he?"

"A cross of Mick Jagger and Bill Skarsgard."

"Holy fuck he's your wet dream!"

"I know," she squeals, clenching her fists as she does a little dance of excitement in her spot. "and his daughter is so sweet. Like I know I love kids, but I really fucking love this kid."

Y/n has always loved kids. She grew up with lots of cousins and friends that had little siblings so being around children was second nature. Not to mention all the time she volunteered at nurseries and elementary schools and children's hospitals.

Emma tells her something but she's not listening enough to answer, and they finish getting ready for their set in silence because y/n is too deep into her thoughts to answer. And even as she's onstage, looking around just in case Harry and Ophelia happen to be back, she can't help but wonder if Harry loves all kids the way she does or if he's just soft for his daughter.

~

"A date?" Gemma gasps, and Harry can picturing her clutching her non-existent pearls. "With a woman?"

"Yes Gem," Harry exasperates, "a woman has agreed to go on a date with me this weekend."

She giggles through the phone, either happy that he's got his first real date in four years or proud of her own joke. "So the nipper needs a babysitter huh?"

Harry cradles his phone between his ear and shoulder, grabbing the check in form on the reception desk. "Yes she does and she's very excited to see her aunt Gemma." He winces through the lie, remembering how much Ophelia had wailed when he informed her that she wouldn't be attending dinner with him and y/n.

"Does she know your going on a date or does she think you're working late again?"

"Umm," Harry pauses, hearing Gemma's words but too caught up reading over all the names that have signed in. After a moment, one in which Gemma knows he's multitasking ( or trying to), Harry finally answers. "she knows it's a date. Wouldn't lie to her."

"How'd she take the news?"

"Well, I um, I asked the girl out when Ophelia was with me." Harry admits and as he thinks about it, he's lucky Ophelia didn't burst into a tantrum in that cafe when he'd asked. She's always had issues with sharing Harry, even going as far as yelling at his old boss when he'd had to come in on a weekend, leaving her with Uncle Niall.

"So she knows you're a dad then?"

Harry scoffs, "Of course, wouldn't ask someone out without telling them about the little miss."

Gemma makes a sound as if to say "that's why you've never gotten any dates" and he's tempted to tell her that he's in fact never wanted to date anyone until he met y/n. He thinks it was how starry eyed she had Ophelia. Or maybe it's how sweet her smile is.

Harry's interrupted by a terrible, screeching cry from down the hall. "Sorry Gem, gotta go. I've got a crier. I'll text ya the time." He's hanging up his phone, dropping it onto his desk quite ungracefully, and swiping up a patient chart as quickly as he can. Harry jogs down the hall to the room of Charles M. Brunt, putting on a smile as he enters the room.

"S'all this crying for me?" He greets, catching the attention of the wailing boy. He stops squirming in his mother's arms, staring up at Harry with big, teary eyes and a trembling bottom lip.

"D-do I really have to get a shot?"

Harry tries not to smile because he had a feeling all this wailing was due to a shot. Instead, he pouts sympathetically and nods. "I'm afraid so but don't you worry. I promise it won't hurt."

Charlie's face wobbles a bit as he sniffles sadly, looking to his mother for help. She wipes his tears, shrugging sadly at him. "We trust Mr. Harry don't we Charlie?" Charlie nods at her words. "Then we know this will be ok."

Harry offers him one last encouraging smile before gathering everything for Charlie's flu shot, picking out the Avengers band-aid because he knows Charlie loves that one. Harry gets Charlie's sleeve rolled up and latex gloves on, wiping his bicep with an alcohol wipe. Charlie attaches himself to his mother's arm, squeezing her hand for dear life like he always does.

"Hey Charlie," Harry distracts, subtly pulling the cap off the needle. "what'd ya ask Santa for for Christmas?"

Charlie seems to forget what's going on, relaxing as he falls victim to the excitement of Christmas. He starts listing off different types of Legos he asked for, only pausing when Harry picks him with the needle. He's quick to inject the fluid before Charlie tenses to much, pulling the needle out and covering it with the band-aid.

"We did it Mr. Harry!" Charlie laughs, straining his neck to look at his band-aid. "And you put Thor on me! I love Thor!"

Harry chuckles. "Well he is the best." He responds even though he couldn't care less about the best superhero. He's pretty sure he told Ophelia last week that Captain America is the best Avenger because he's her favorite.

Harry sends Charlie off to the checkout desk with a fist-bump and a "merry Christmas," wondering which superhero y/n thinks is the best.

~

She's nervous. Really nervous as she paces back and forth in the living room of her little apartment, fiddling with the sleeves of her sweater. She's got her water proof boots on, her gloves tucked into the pocket of her winter coat, and tights on under her jeans, beyond prepared to brace the cold so she can enjoy her night with Harry.

Her date with Harry.

But he's late. Not so late that she'd think he'd stood her up, especially since he called her ten minutes ago, breathless and a bit grumpy, to tell her that he's running a tiny bit late. She doesn't know how far he lives or if he's driving or taking the train or maybe a taxi, so she can't really time how long it'll take him to get to her complex.

Y/n is in the middle of re-tying her boots when her phone rings, Harry’s name popping up on the screen as well as a picture of Mick Jagger back when he was around her age. She’s quick to answer, breathless with nerves as she softly says “hello?”

"M'outside," Harry says, sounding a lot happier than he did earlier, before quickly adding, "well I think I'm outside." He chuckles a rumble-y little titter that crackles in the phone's speaker while y/n tugs on her coat and rushes outside, locking the door behind her. She peers down from the second story landing, spotting the black car she'd seen him load Ophelia into after the carnival.

"There you are," she assures him, practically hopping down the stairs. "M'coming now."

"Ya know I can see ya, right?" Harry laughs teasingly but cutely, and she can't recall a time she's ever referred to someone's father as cute.

"Well I didn't know if you could see in the dark or not!" Y/n defends, laughing because there's just something about Harry that makes her overflow with giggles.

"Old enough to be a father, love but m'not old enough to be blind."

She laughs even more at that, blushing over the fact that Harry's so hilarious. She's never met a guy that's been genuinely silly and funny like Harry is.

"Blindness comes in all ages sir." She responds sassily, giggling when Harry chuckles deeply. His only line of defense is a response of "hurry up and get in the bloody car," but she's already reaching for the handle of the passenger side door. She hops in, the heating blasting against her cold cheeks and the seat warm under her body.

"You're being awful bossy," y/n says, phone still pressed to her ear despite the fact that Harry has set his in his lap and looking at her with bright eyes, that twinkle blue and she can't help but swoon over the fact that sometimes his eyes are blue and sometimes they're green. She wonders if Ophelia's eyes do that too.

Harry simpers, a little shyly, and shrugs. "M'a dad. Bossy comes with the title."

Y/n rolls her eyes, finally hanging up her phone and tucking it into the pocket of her coat. Harry looks at her expectantly, hand resting on the gear shift and she quickly buckles up to appease him.

"Speaking of being a dad," y/n murmurs, unable to stop herself. "how's Ophelia?"

The smile that takes over his face is breathtaking, crinkling by his eyes and indenting dimples into his cheek. He only glances at her for a second before returning his eyes to the road and y/n realizes she doesn't know where they're going. Then she catches the glimmer in his eyes and decides she doesn't care.

"She's good. Spent the day making gingerbread houses with her before my sister came to babysit for the night." Y/n practically coos at the longing in Harry’s voice, as if he’d do anything to always have her with him.

"Wait," she frowns, turning in her seat to look at him. "was she upset that you were leaving tonight?"

Harry looks at her curiously for a very brief second, shrugging as he struggles to come up with an answer. Y/n already knows the answer that's going to come out of his mouth. "She was a little hurt that she wasn't tagging along," he finally replies, sugar coating the fact that Ophelia had a tantrum when Harry went to leave without her.

"She was?" Y/n grimaces, slumping into the seat. The car comes to a red light, Harry finally looking at her once they've stopped.

"S'why I was late," he says apologetically. "she was hurt that I got to come see you and she didn't."

And that wasn't what she was expecting to hear. She thought he'd gently tell her that Ophelia was hurt that someone was stealing her daddy for the night. That Ophelia hated y/n and didn't want Harry with her. She saw how much Ophelia loves Harry, how anxious she is without him. She can't really imagine Ophelia being sad that she wasn't spending time with y/n instead of being sad that she wasn't spending time with her father.

"Really?"

Harry must hear the surprise in her voice because he chuckles softly, nodding as he takes the green arrow to head left. They're going to the outskirts of the city where there's mostly just big luxurious houses and small business. She listens with a tiny smile and blushing cheeks as Harry tells her all about Ophelia's love for her. He gushes that Ophelia keeps begging to go back to the carnival and if he didn't have work he probably would have taken her because she's just so sulky every time Harry tells her they can't go visit y/n. And when he tells her that Ophelia typically hates strangers, but not her, she thinks her heart's going to beat right out of her chest.

~

The restaurant Harry chose is small but cozy, dim-lighted with dark wood floors and oak tables and booths. Garland and white lights line every single window, mistletoe hung from every light fixture, and a thin but tall tree placed by the entrance next to the hostess. Judging by the pictures on the wall, it's family owned and operated since 1985 when a man named Carl Knox opened it for his wife, Lucilia. She can't help but think how cute it is that the restaurant is called Lucy's.

Harry seems to be a regular here, comfortably hanging his coat on the hooks by their booth and helping y/n out of hers. Always nervous in new places, she fiddles a bit when she first slides into the booth and is handed a menu by a teenager named Justin who greets Harry with a "nice to see you again Mr. Styles. No little one tonight?"

He chuckles, glancing at y/n with that same shy look he had when he'd reminded her in the car that he's a father, and she wonders if he's worried about the fact that he has a child.

"Not tonight, no," He murmurs, rubbing his knuckle against the tip of his nose. "and ya know not to call me Mr. Styles, come on."

Justin laughs, patting Harry on the shoulder. "I know, I just like to see ya get all uncomfortable when I say it." Harry rolls his eyes, again looking at y/n shyly as he rubs his knuckle against his nose once more. Y/n catches a peek of yellow that has her heart jumping. "Alright, back to business. I'll be back in a minute to take your orders."

Justin moves to another table and y/n finally drops the menu she was pretending to read, only to find Harry already looking at her. He blinks nervously when they're eyes meet and she can't stop herself from asking, "can I see your nails?"

Harry looks down at his lap when his hands sit, bobbing his head in a tiny nod. She sees his Adams's apple bob as he swallows, bringing his hands up to the table top. He splays them out, skin pale against the dark wood and his sweater sleeve rises a bit to show off a glimpse of dark ink. He's got tattoos, she realizes as she spots the cross by his thumb. She doesn't think much of it as she reaches out to run her pointer finger over the cross, smiling proudly when she sees his nails. She knew it.

"They match Ophelia's." She muses, looking over his yellow nails that are topped with the same smiley faces Ophelia had on hers. She looks up at Harry through her eyelashes, blushing at the look of awe on his face.

"Y-yeah," he breathes. "she loves having them painted but m'awful at it. Took her to this place by m'home but she was nervous so I got mine done too. She was so happy and I like the colors, so we kinda made it a tradition."

Her bones feel like jelly with how warm her veins have gotten. She knew from the minute she saw Harry that he's handsome. He's so handsome she'd even go as far as calling him hot, and she hates calling people hot, but he makes her feel hot. And she knew he's a good dad, could tell when she read the identification card Ophelia had handed her. But she's never met any man that would willing get his nails done with his daughter and enjoy it enough to keep doing it. She's overwhelmed with how cute and handsome and sweet and sexy he is.

"That's," she pauses, trying to catch her breath. Her finger continues to dance over the soft skin of his hand. "that's the most adorable thing I've ever heard." Harry chuckles bashfully, shrugging and somehow that makes him even more attractive.

"S'nothing. I mean, she's my daughter, ya know?"

"It's not nothing," y/n insists. "it's really sweet and progressive of you. I mean, my dad would never do that."

Harry's eyes flicker between hers, dazzling blue and warm. He shrugs again, looking as if he's about to say something but is interrupted by Justin returning with glasses of water. They're pulled out of their moment, Harry ordering an iced tea and a chicken salad sandwich. Y/n sticks to her water but orders a salmon salad.

Once Justin's left with their orders, Harry looks at her with a purse of lips that looks as if he's trying to keep from saying something. Y/n chuckles, wrapping her fingers around her glass of water. "What?"

"You gotta tell me how ya got the job of singing and dancing in a costume." He chuckles, leaning forward on his elbows. Y/n, familiar with this question, tells him that she works at the radio station that puts on this carnival, and she'd done a segment years ago in which she sang a duet with a bunch of guests artists. Apparently everyone enjoyed it so they begged her to sing for the carnival and she's just kept doing it ever since.

They fall into easy conversation, not even pausing when their food is delivered. Between bites of the best salad she's ever eaten and sips of water, she finds out that Harry is a nurse at the pediatrics ward of the hospital and his favorite part of the job is the fact that it made raising Ophelia easier. They gave him lots of time off when she was born because he's been her sole parent since birth, and he's got a flexible schedule so he can always pick her up for school and spend weekends with her. He also didn't have to worry about little colds or teething when she was younger because he's learned all about it.

Harry doesn't talk about Ophelia's mom and she doesn't ask. Even when he mentions that Ophelia's nothing like her mother, and he looks almost scared that he's mentioned it, y/n plays it off with a little comment about how she's nothing like her father, but she's really glad Ophelia's like hers.

Y/n can't believe how comfortable she is around Harry. They'd talked that day at the cafe and got on well but there was no pressure to impress there. Here, however, is the pressure of a first date that usually makes her awkward and nervous. With Harry, it's not the case. They laugh and joke around, and nudge their feet together under the table. They argue over the bill a bit, Harry finally paying it to make up for the hot coco she bought him and Ophelia, but he promises next time they can split it.

The car ride home is filled with Christmas music that Harry insists she sing along to since she's "a proper performer." But she can't even hold a good note because Harry's constantly glancing at her with a big smile that has her breathless and laughing. She's still giggling at him when they pull up to her apartment, this time Harry shutting down the engine and unbuckling.

Y/n doesn't really question him when he gets out, rushing around the front of the car with a little hop in the headlights that has her snorting. He opens her door for her, helping her down and adjusting the collar of her coat in the same way she saw him fix Ophelia's at the carnival. She can't help but be endeared by the little mannerism.

"Second floor?" Harry asks, offering his elbow to her. She nods, slipping her hand in the crook of his elbow and they head towards the stairs. Their breath fogs out around them, puffing out when they reach the top and Harry let's out a dramatically harsh pant.

"Sorry, the dad bod's getting to me."

She giggles, breathing a little difficult too but she thinks it's from Harry, not the cold or her body shape. Y/n leads him to her front door, pausing with the key in the lock.

"Do you want to come in?"

Harry looks sorry as he shakes his head, pursing his pink lips to the side. "Would really love too but I gotta get home to the little miss. Never been out this late before and m'afraid she'll be a little rattled."

"Oh my God," y/n gasps, slipping her arm out of his. "what are you doing up here then? Get home!"

Harry chuckles, that same rumble-y laugh she'd heard over the phone. It's prettier in person, even with how masculine it is. "Forgot to do something at the restaurant," he explains, bringing his hands up to her shoulders. He's hesitant, eyes flickering between hers as he reaches up with one hand to push hair out of her face.

"Oh," she breathes, able to smell his husky cologne. He cups her cheek, gloves soft on her skin, and waits to see if she's going to shake him off. When she doesn't, he takes a little step forward. Y/n does the same, bringing her hands up to his chest.

Harry smiles cutely, leaning down to put a small kiss to her lips. His lips are cold but somehow still soft, his breath warm on her cheeks. She pecks his lips back, eyes closing just briefly to feel how soft his lips are on hers, even if it only lasts a couple seconds.

"S'no mistletoe here," Harry murmurs, stroking his thumb over her cheek "but I couldn't not kiss ya." His touch is electrifying, eyes sparkling like Christmas lights and y/n definitely thinks there's something magic about him.

[lovemesomesurveys]

survey by n0b0dysp3rf3ct

—:: Who ::—

… was the last person you saw face to face?

My mom.

… was the last person you texted or messaged online? My aunt.

… was the last person who asked you for a favour? My mom earlier.

… was the last person you lent something to? I don’t recall.

… was the last person who told you a secret/confided in you? Probably my aunt.

… is the tallest person you know? My brother.

… the shortest person you know? Me, ha.

… your oldest (in years) friend? I don’t have any friends.

… is the oldest (in length of time) friend? --

… is your youngest friend? --

… is your newest friend? --

… is your closest relative? My mom and brother.

… was your favourite teacher? My 4th, who also ended up being my 8th, grade teacher.

… was your least favourite teacher? These two math professors I had at community college. They were really rude.

… did you spend the most time with when growing up? My parents, cousins, and grandparents.

… knows you the best? My mom. And ya’ll, ha.

… always beats you in games or sports? I don’t do a lot of competitive stuff, but let’s be real everyone would probably beat me cause I suck at everything.

… who is the most creative of the people you know? I have a few artistic and creative family members. I sadly did not get the gene.

… is the funniest person you know? My brother.

… is the most organised that you know? One of my aunts.

… that you know has travelled the most? My paternal grandparents and one of my uncles.

… has always been there for you? My family, especially my mom.

… has given you the most personal gift? What’s a personal gift, exactly?

… has an annoying laugh? *shrug*

… never forgets a birthday? I think I’m pretty good about that.

… do you live with? My parents, brother, and doggo.

…,do you have the most in common with? My mom and brother.

…is the sportiest person you know? My dad.

…was your last missed call? A spam call.

…did you last open your door for? Delivery person.

… has your heart? Me.

…do you share a special song with? No one.

…do you miss right now? I’ll always miss my loved ones who have passed away.

…last made you angry? Not sure about a who, but situations and circumstances lately have.

…did you last buy a gift for? My dad for Father’s Day.

…did you celebrate your last birthday with? My parents and brother.

…have you gone to a concert with? A former friend.

…can make you laugh? My family.

…has taught you how to do something? Teachers.

…has lost something of yours? Hmm.

…has broke your heart? A couple of people.

…has stood you up? Joseph.

:: What ::

...I

s your favourite colour?

...Pastels, rose gold, sea foam green, coral, yellow.

...Can you do that most your friends can’t? ---

...Is your birthday? July 28th, mark your calendars. 

...Colour eyes do you have? Brown.

...Form of transport do you take to work/school? I don’t work/done with school.

...Music do you like to listen to in the car? My parents and brother each play their Spotify playlists in their cars, so I hear whoever’s playlist of the car I’m in.

...Languages can you speak? I’m only fluent in English, but I know a little Spanish. ...Was the last thing you drank? Water.

...Was the last thing you ate? 4 over-easy eggs, loaded hash browns (shredded cheese, country gravy, and onions), and toast with strawberry jam from Denny’s.

...Time did you wake up this morning? Around 8.

...Colour are your bedroom walls? White.

...Drink do you usually order when eating out? Coffee.

..Food can you cook well? Just ramen.

...Animals have you had for a pet? Doggos, fish, and a couple of hamsters.

...Are your initials? ---

...Kind of activities do you like to do on the weekends? I don’t do anything different.

...Movie do you know line by line? There’s a few.

...Band(s) have you seen in concert? I’ve seen several.

...Do you buy/get to treat yourself? Depends what I want.

...Colours your phone cover? It’s a clear one.

...Part of the world would you love to visit? I’d love to be able to travel all over.

...Subject were you good at in school? English.

...Careers do your parents have? My mom works at Walgreens and my dad works at a car repair shop.

...Brand of clothing do you buy most often? Most of my clothes are from Boxlunch, Hot Topic, and Kohl’s. 

...Chocolate bar is your favourite? White chocolate.

...TV show have you watched every series of? There’s a ton.

...Radio station do you listen to the most? I haven’t listened to the radio for like 4-5 years now.

...Podcasts are you subscribed to? None.

...Is your favourite dessert? Milkshakes, ice cream, brownies, cheesecake, cookies, cupcakes, donuts, muffins.

...Can’t you do that most around you seem to? >> Function. <<<

...Are 5 qualities you value in a friend? Someone I can confide in, someone that’s easy to be around, good listener, loyal, understanding.

...Are 5 qualities you value in a partner? Patient, understanding, caring, good sense of humor, loyal. 

...Size pizza do you usually order? It depends. If my family and I are all getting pizza, we usually get 2 mediums ad one of those are the toppings of my choosing and they’ll have some of that as well as the pizza of their choosing (I’m the picky one that’s why we get two, ha). If I’m just getting pizza then I’ll get a personal.

...Cuisine do you like to order or cook? I love Italian, Mexican, and Chinese food. I’m not a cook except for ramen.

...Colour(s) dominate your wardrobe? Black.

...Toothpaste brand do you use? Sensodyne.

...Sounds can you hear right now? ASMR video, my fans, and the TV.

...Is the weather like today? It’s currently 90F.

...Are your plans for tomorrow? Just another day.

:: Where ::

...

Do you keep your phone when not using it?

It’s usually always near me somewhere.

...Were you born? California.

...Do you go to unwind? My bed. And the beach when I’m able, which isn’t often. :( I wish I lived near one cause I’d be there a lot.

...Is your best friend right now? Work.

...Can you go nearby to have a good time? My city is lame.

...Is the nearest restaurant? Not even a 5 minute drive from my house.

...Is the nearest beach? About 2 1/2 hours away.

...Did you meet your closest friend? --

...Did you go for your last vacation? I went to Disneyland last year and it ended up being right before the pandemic and lockdown stuff happened. Like literally two weeks before.

...Is the nearest mall or superstore? About a 10 minute drive.

...Did you last get an injury? I don’t remember.

...Is the most extravagant place you’ve stayed at? I’ve stayed at nice hotels.

...Do most the local kids play? *shrug*

...Have you been with your family? Uhh, lots of places?

...Did you spend Christmas last year? At home.

...Did your parents grow up? My mom has lived here all her life and my dad moved around a bit coast to coast.

...Did you buy the shoes you’re wearing? I'm not wearing shoes, but no I didn’t buy the pair I last wore.

...Would you like to go right now if you could? Somewhere with cool weather and a beach.

...Do you miss the most from your childhood? Being a kid.

...Is the best restaurant you know? Wingstop.

...Will you never go again as it was so bad? I haven’t had that bad of a restaurant experience.

:: When ::

was your last vacation? ...February of last year.

…did you graduate? I graduated UC in 2015.

…did you decide what career you wanted? My freshman year of high school. 

…did you have your first kiss? I was 16.

…did you learn how to swim? I haven’t.

…did you have your first relationship? 2005.

…did you meet your best friend? She’s my mo.

…do you feel the most at peace? At the beach is the closest I get to that.

…do you usually fall asleep? When the sun is almost rising or already has.

…do you usually wake up? Between like 9 and 12.

…did you last watch a movie? I saw A Quiet Place 2 a few weeks ago.

…did you last go to a party? A few weekends ago to my bro’s grad party.

…did you last cry? Yesterday. It’s a daily thing nowadays, at least once. Usually more.

…did you laugh really hard? I don’t remember. 

…did you buy something pricey last? For Mother’s Day.

…did you have an argument last? Recently.

…did you last have a sick day? All the time?

…did you last recieve a hug? The other day.

…when is your best friend’s birthday? September.

…did you learn how to drive? I haven’t.

…did you last receive a surprise? I received a bad, unexpected one recently.

:: How ::

Many pets do you have?

One.

Many houses have you lived in? A few.

Often do you shower? About every 2-3 days.

Well can you cook? I only cook ramen.

Many close friends do you have? None.

Many Brothers or sisters do you have? I have two brothers.

Often do you go swimming? I don't.

Many times have you texted today? Zero.

Do you like your toast (colour, topping)? A light brown with butter or jelly.

Do you like your tea and/or coffee? I like a packet or two of sweetener with my tea and flavored cream or cream and sugar with my coffee.

Do you like to celebrate your birthdays? Just chill and lowkey.

Are you feeling today? Hot and tired and meh.

Serious are you about your career goals? I’m not even doing anything in regards to that as of now. I have no idea what I want to do and I can’t put the time, energy, focus, or effort to figure it out at this time. I’m dealing with and focusing on my health and can’t work right now anyway.

Many bedrooms in your house? 2 bedrooms.

Did you do in your school exams? I did well.

Close do you live to your parents? I live with my parents.

Close do you live to your siblings? I live with my younger brother and my older brother doesn’t live far away.

Sensitive to criticism are you? I’m sensitive, but it’s definitely gotten worse in recent years.

Motivated to make changes are you? That’s something I’ve been struggling with and it’s certainly doing me no favors. :/

Creative are you (1-10): I missed the creative gene.

Hard working are you (1-10): Not very much at all anymore. :/

Sporty are you (1-10): Not at all. 

Musical are you (1-10): I don’t play any instruments. Do you prefer your eggs? Over-easy, scrambled, deviled, hard boiled.

Often do you go out to eat? I get takeout a lot. I just started going out to eat again recently, having been to Denny’s twice now in the past week. It’s a new tradition my mom and I are starting couple or so times a week when we go for a morning walk.

Would your best friend describe you? Meh.

Can someone cheer you up if you’re sad? It’s honestly better to just leave me alone.

Often do you meet up with your friends?  ---

Important is religion to you? My faith is very important to me.

Old were you when you first stayed overnight from home? *shrug* I was a kid.

Old were you when you got your first pet? Like 3.

Tech savvy are you? Eh, I know some stuff.

Often do you cut your hair? It’s been over a year since the last time.

Often do you paint your nails? It’s been a few years since the last time. 

Many countries have you visited? Just one apart from my own.

Boyfriends/girlfriends have you had? Two.

:: Why ::

… did you choose your username?

Cause I love me some surveys. ‘Nuff said.

… did you take this survey? I wanted to.

… did you choose the career you did? I don’t have one.

…did you last leave the house? My mom and I took our walk this morning and stopped to have breakfast along the way. 

…did you last give up on something? I gave up on myself in a lot of ways the past few years and I’ve paying for it.

…did you search the last thing you searched? I was looking up how many miles away something was for one of the questions.

…would you give up on someone completely? I did that easily with myself, but it would take a lot to do that with someone else.

:: If…::

You could live in any country which would you choose?

I’ll just stay here.

You could choose any animal as a pet which one? I like having doggos.

You could be famous for something what would you like? >> I don't want to be famous. <<<

You are sad, how do you combat it? >> I am sad almost all the time lately, and there's nothing I can do about it. It's not something to "combat", I'm not trying to be in a fucking battle with myself and I'm tired of that rhetoric. I just wish I was less sad. I can't be less sad. But I wish I could. <<< 

You can drive when did you learn? --

You could have any job what would it be? I don’t knowwww.

You could go anywhere for a vacation where would you go? Somewhere far away with a nice beach.

You could eat anything right now what would it be? I just put in my Doordash order for Wingstop.

You wrote a book what genre/topic would it be? Murder mystery/psychological thriller.

You had a theme song what would it be? *shrug*

You could meet any band/singer in person which one? Hmm.

You could act in any movie which would it be? No thanks.

You get married what venue would you like? I don’t want to get married.

If you have kids do you have names picked out? I don’t want kids.

Could describe your dream home what would it be like? Spacious enough for 4 adults and a doggo, near a beach, hardwood floor, big backyard with patio deck, pizza oven, grill, deck, nice sitting and eating area, pool, and a balcony.

You could go back in time what would you change? I’d take better care of myself.

Could use 3 words to describe your childhood which ones? Good, fun, memorable.

Could get the answer to any question which question would you choose? I don’t know cause if it’s bad I don’t wanna know.

You could have an endless supply of something what would it be? Money.

Meet anyone who no longer lives who’d you choose? Chester Bennington.

:: Can ::

… you ride a bike?

No.

… you ski? No.

… you bake a cake? >> I'm sure I could wing a box cake. <<< Yeah, that’s all I do. I’m not in there whipping stuff up from scratch.

… you sing well? Nope.

… you do your own taxes? >> I don't do taxes, I don't earn a taxable income. <<<

… you remain calm in a crisis? I tend to freak out.

… you do first aid? No.

… remember your best friend’s family members’ names? They’re my family, too.

… you fire a gun? I’ve only done it once when I went to a shooting range with some friends a few years ago. I didn’t want to do more than that.

… your parents drive? Yes.

…your best friend dance well? She doesn’t like to dance.

…you make people laugh easily? I don’t think I’m funny. I’ll have my moments now and then and I own that shit when it happens haha but it’s at random.

…stand up for yourself? I’m not great a that. I’m too shy, too awkward, suck at expressing myself, and don’t like confrontation.

…you do a martial art? No.

:: Would ::

You like to learn a new language?

I’d like to be fluent in Spanish. I only know some.

Save the life of a stray animal? If I could help in some way.

Know what to do if there was a hurricane? >> Not entirely, because I've never lived in a hurricane-prone area. <<< Me either, thankfully.

Try a new cuisine? If it sounded good to me. I’m very picky and particular with food.

Risk your life for anyone? My loved ones.

You like to get back in touch with someone? Ideally, but it’s not ideal right now.

You drive in the middle of the night to get a stuck friend? I don’t drive so I wouldn’t be any help. I could call them an Uber, though.

You Know how to perform CPR? No.

You likely win in a game of chess? Nope, I don’t even know how to play.

You stop talking for a day for $100? Yeah.

[myhauntedsalem]

True Ghost Stories and Tales of the Supernatural

1. A Baby Crying

“When I was in high school, my uncle would throw me a couple bucks to help babysit his kids with my aunt. They lived in a two-story house by the water, nice area. The kids were about 3 and 6, respectively.

One day I was sitting in their den on my phone when I started to hear a baby crying. Thinking it was the three-year-old, I headed to the bottom of the stairs to check and see if my aunt was up there dealing with it. I called for her a couple times with no response. The baby kept crying. I called for her one more time, and when I got no response I started walking up the stairs. Then I heard my cousins and aunt playing outside.

All the hairs on my body stood up and I literally felt a chill run down my spine. I quietly turned around, walked down the stairs, got in my car, and drove away. The ‘baby’ was still crying when I closed the door behind me.

A few years later I was drunk at a family party and told my uncle the story. He told me that he and his wife used to hear the baby too, and apparently, the previous owners had a kid die of SIDS in that room upstairs. He’s uber Catholic and had a Mass said for the baby. He said after that it never happened again. Still gives me the willies when I talk about it though.” – urgehal666

2. The Man with the Suitcase

“I was 13 years old and drinking lemonade with my best friend in my kitchen. We were alone. From where we were seating we could see a corridor that leads from the front door to the backyard. We were talking and something made us shut up. We looked to the corridor and there was the shadow of a man walking by with a suitcase. I know she also saw him because we both described the same thing: a tall shadow with a suitcase

Fast forward to a few years later, I had to do a school project with another girl. Again I was alone at home, working on the computer when she arrived. She then asked me where my dad was. When I told her my dad was away, at work, she asked me, ‘Well, then who’s the man I saw walking downstairs and carrying a suitcase when I came in?’

So far, no one else from my family has seen him. I haven’t seen him again ever since, but for a while it really scared the shit out of me to be home alone.” – rraarraarraasputin

3. The Exorcism

“I work as a paramedic, got a call to a church, the retired nun who still lived at the church was having some issues. The priest was attempting an exorcism when the family got a state order to get her into a psych facility. We got her into the back of our ambulance and all was fine. Then this 92-year-old, 90-pound woman ripped out of her leather restraints and started speaking in a voice no human could produce. She then told me that her commander in the war had burned and buried her alive during the war when defending France against the Germans.

The whole presence was terrifying and gave me nightmares for years to come. I told my partner to use the lights and sirens so I could get out of there as fast as possible. During the whole transport, she was speaking in weird tongues.” – rbilly0001

4. The Morgue Door

“Used to work hospital security and we had video cameras accessible in the office.

During body escorts, we kept finding the morgue door open. That was weird because it was a heavy door that could only be opened with a keycard. Pathologists were blaming security and security was blaming pathologists for leaving it open, as we were the only two groups with access. I did a body escort one day, made sure to close the door behind me and went back to work. Not even a half hour later, the office got a call bitching that the ‘last guard left the door open.’

I swore up and down I didn’t and went to check the cameras. The cameras showed me pulling the door shut, pushing on it and then wiggling the locked handle to ensure it was closed. I wasn’t even out of frame from the camera yet before we could see the door swing ALL the way open, hit the wall and then slowly swing shut until it was slightly ajar.” – LilithImmaculate

5. The Haunted Hotel

“Not me but a friend who is a pilot. She stayed at an older hotel downtown Chicago and was studying for her recurrent class which was in a few weeks. While at the desk, deep in thought, she heard people talking and laughing. When she looked up, it got quiet. She said it sounded like it was in the room with her and went back to studying. The noise started off softly and then again sounded like a party was going on in her room. She got up and looked around and there was silence. There were no sounds coming from any rooms, no televisions on, no radios, no people in the hallway – the noise was definitely in her room.

That night around 2 am, she was in bed and felt someone brush strands of hair from her forehead and tuck it behind her ear. She jumped up and turned on the light and there was no one there. She didn’t get back to sleep and bid around that overnight so she wouldn’t be in that hotel again.” – Sandbargirl

6. Echoes of the Past

“When I was little I saw a recurring ghost. She would appear for a split second and then vanish, but I could always perfectly recreate the image.

She was a short little girl wearing a frilly blue dress and a big red bow, blonde hair, blue eyes, large ears. A couple of notable sightings were her looking through my mom’s jewelry box and one peering through our glass door at me (with her hands over here eyes binocular style)

It never really bothered me and these happened for a while. A few years later at my Grandfathers house and we were helping him unpack his attic and I found a portrait of his long since deceased sister.

Not quite the same dress, slightly different bow, but the face was absolutely her. She had died as a child quite tragically so obviously I had never met her, but I did know of her but had never seen a picture of her before.

So, not a scary supernatural encounter but rather a heartwarming one knowing the great aunt I never met was saying hello.” – Omni_Omega

7. Alone in the Chuch

“I worked for my church for two years. One day, a coworker and I were closing up the church at the end of the day. By this point, doors were locked and we had checked every room to make sure no one was in the building. The church had two lobbies, one in each side of the building. They were connected with a long hallway lined with classrooms. As my coworker and I were turning off lights and double checking the doors in the one lobby, I looked down the hall and could distinctly see a boy (late teens to early 20s) in a blue plaid short sleeve shirt and khaki pants sitting in the chair. He had his hands folded and was looking at the ground as if in deep thought.

Initially, I didn’t think anything of it as this wasn’t an uncommon sight. I turned and in the second it hit me that we were the only ones in the building. I turned again and he there was no one (from the time that I saw him to when he disappeared all happened in about a second or two). I told my coworker what I saw and we both noped out of there quick.

Being that is was our first unexplained, potentially supernatural, experience, we were both pretty freaked out but we never felt threatened nor was the presence malicious in any degree.” – AgentMarks

8. The Escaped Prisoner

“I worked in a maximum security prison for awhile. I was assigned to central control one night, which is where the camera screens were.

One of the cameras was for the classifications room. I glanced at it and there was an inmate in there. This was super odd because it was two in the morning and nobody was supposed to be in there. Everyone that had keys to that room went home at 5.

Anyways, so this inmate is just sitting in there doing nothing. I got the sergeant’s attention and told him someone was in there and gave him the spare key to the room. He went to go check it out with a couple of other people, but by the time they got there, the room was empty. They searched for like 15 minutes but there was definitely no one in there.” – Bb21297

9. Calls From the Old Morgue

“My colleague used to work in a hospital and would often receive phone calls around 3am but no one would speak at the other end of the receiver. The number was from an extension somewhere in the hospital and when they looked it up, it was from an old morgue nobody has used in a while.” – manicpixiechick

10. The Footsteps

“When I was about 12 our family moved into a new house—new to us, actually quite old. It was in our same village but down a different lane.

Part of it used to be a bungalow so my room and my sister’s room were on the ground floor, down a long hallway. All of the ground floor had walnut flooring and there was a Persian rug outside the door to my room to avoid cold toesies in the morning.

Every night, around 11 or so, I would hear footsteps walking at a fairly slow pace right down the hall, from the end guest suite up past our rooms and away down the hall to the living room.

I was always in bed when I heard them, and so was everyone else. You know how you can tell who a family member is by the way they walk up the stairs, or open a specific door? I knew it wasn’t anyone in my family. Plus, it was the sound of outdoor shoes clacking on the wood and everyone in my family wore slippers inside the house.

I would hear the footsteps start, fairly loud on the wooden floor, way down the hall, come up past my sister’s room and then there would be a pause—while whatever it was walked over the rug. You could hear the gap in the footsteps, about three seconds, then they would start again on the other side of the rug and fade out as they walked down the hall away to the living room.

Then they would come back—same footsteps, break across the rug, resumed on the other side.

I don’t remember ever feeling scared, but I never ever went out to see what it was. I would fall asleep to the sound, it would go on for a really long time. It stopped about 3 or 4 weeks after we moved in and I never heard it again. I didn’t really think about it much after it stopped, but I’ve never forgotten it and as an adult it makes me shiver to remember it.” – KE-1930

[arterwich]

CW/TW - DEAD BODY, DEATH OF A LOVED ONE, DEATH, CANCER

I truly do wonder if my mum's death will get any easier. Like, it's been about 8 and a half months now since she passed, but it still feels like a dream. It still feels like she'll walk through the front door with another bloody plant or something that she found whilst out kerbing/buying things off of fb marketplace - but I know realistically she won't. It's still so weird to see what would be her body in the bottle-urn container that the funeral home gave us with her ashes in it.

I honestly thought that it would be easier to acknowledge the fact that she's gone and never coming back. That I'll never be able to take her out to dinner for her birthday & mother's day presents. That we'll never go to visit England together, despite having made plans to do so in 2020 (thanks covid for fucking ruining them btw - oh and fuck cancer). She'll never be able to help me out when I start house hunting, or when I go furniture shopping. She won't get to see my older sister get married to the love of her life. She won't be here for any of it.

I honestly regret the fact that I was so chill with her being in hospital for those two weeks before she passed. But, considering that mum basically had her own bed/room at RPH, due to how often she was a patient there (and at 2 other hospitals as well) due to her many illnesses/health problems she had, it was kind of the normal thing for her to be in hospital. I just wish that the cancer had been found sooner than it was (or sooner than we were told at least - cause I still remember overhearing her phone convo with the specialist and the words "it's possible that the cancer has come back" and having a very bad feeling about everything), cause it's just not fair that she, my mum who has beaten ever single medical/health problem that appeared in her life (3 strokes, bell's palsy that left her with permanent muscle damage/weakness to the right side of her face, kidney disease, liver problems, (possibly genetic) breast cancer (she was 4th gen in my fam to have it), diabetes, COPD...) to the point where she could live with it with only minor struggles, was once again dealt the sgittiest fucking hand by the fucking universe and given another set of obstacles to cross. Unfortunately, the lung cancer (which turned out to be metastatic and had found it's way to her liver) was the one thing that she truly could not overcome.

Seeing her in hospital the day before she passed away was truly horrifying as well as terrifying. This woman - who I had always seen with a stiff upper lip who didn't let her emotions out nor did she ever show anyone how much pain she truly was in - was reduced to... fuck I don't even know the words to describe how she was, but watching her head loll around and her eyes roll around her head, whilst her hands had to be mitted so she couldn't scratch herself or rip her drip/lines out, and her mouth being so clenched shut that she could barely speak... it was honestly the day I knew that she truly was never going to ever get better.

The morning before mum passed, we all went in to see her and she had managed to tell us, through clenched teeth, how much she loved us kids, and dad as well - which was a surprise (but not really) considering their marriage had fallen apart. The doctors had taken us all aside to talk about how we wanted to proceed with her (mostly talk of palliative care, DNRs, that sort of thing) and after coming to a decision, we all went back to my Auntie's house. It was there that we got the phone call from the hospital that mum had passed away at 3.40pm that day. I've never seen my family so torn apart, and we have had many of our family members (older half-brothers, aunt, cousins, mothers/grandmothers, and fathers/grandfathers) pass away - but it was heartbreaking and wrenching to watch/experience.

We went in to say our goodbyes in the hospital before the funeral home would come to take her body away and honestly - it was the most peaceful and relaxed I had ever physically seen her. Alive, she was always in pain, but when I saw her body laying on the bed? I never realised how much pain she truly must have been in until I saw the relaxed state of her body and of her face in particular.

Honestly, the one thing I truly want to know about the afterlife, and with her and the test of my family that have passed on - is that she's no longer in pain and is finally comfortable. That she can finally breath without having a coughing fit that would leave her bedridden because her lungs were dying and nobody knew. Ngl, I thought when mum got closer to the 'dying age' - you know, late 80s/90s - that she and dad would be living in granny flats on acreage that I owned so that she could have her little garden and independence, and dignity that wouldn't have been given to her at one of the local nursing homes. Whilst I could still take care of her and keep and eye on her. If she's reading this over my shoulder as I'm typing it with tears in my eyes and the hope that autocorrect does right by me, I only have one thing to say:

I'm so sorry mum. I'm so sorry that the last months of your life were spent trying to motivate and encourage a house full of unmotivated, and severely depressed people who had truly given up on life (yourself included) - to actually live their lives and do something for themselves.

And one other thing, as terrible as it sounds: I'm truly happy that I'll never have to come out to you as a trans nonbinary person, cause I know for certain you would definitely tell me that I'm faking it (like you said about me behind my back to the family about me lying about being bi and that it was only a phase), kick me out of the house, or never talk to me again. You honestly made me feel like a piece of shit and treated me like shit after I came out to you initially as being bi, and I know for certain you'd have done the same, if not worse had I ever gotten the chance to come out as being nonbinary - especially after the transphovic comments you made at that clan dinner evening - you know exactly which one I'm talking about.

[iliketowrite1996]

Blind Dates part 2

Part 6/10 of singledad!Steve Rogers x Reader series

Part 1:https://iliketowrite1996.tumblr.com/post/614617294578089984/his-best-girl

Part 2: https://iliketowrite1996.tumblr.com/post/614969499334197248/meet-the-music-teacher

Part 3: https://iliketowrite1996.tumblr.com/post/616114724817584128/lunch-buddies

Part 4:https://iliketowrite1996.tumblr.com/post/616328582794493952/why-not

Part 5: https://iliketowrite1996.tumblr.com/post/616965238563192832/blind-dates-part-1-sneak-peek

TRIGGER WARNINGS AND THEMES- Death of a parent, child feels guilty for the death, loss of a spouse, heartache, absent parent, blind dates, making decisions, grief, loss, acceptance.

It’s been a few weeks since his date with Sharon, and Steve has loved every minute that he’s spent with her. She’s sweet to Jasmine, includes her on Saturday dates, and cares about Steve for more than his looks.

And Steve’s not quite ready to call this love, but he would say that he likes where their relationship is going.

‘’What are you thinking about, Steve,’’ Sharon asks him on a Friday night in november, when Jasmine is spending the night at her aunt and cousin’s place.

‘’Hmmm, nothing. I love how sweet you are with Jasmine,’’ he explains, smiling at her before taking her hand, ‘’I think she  is starting to grow on you.’’

‘’I’m glad to hear that,’’ Sharon smiles a bit, accepting a kiss from Steve as they sit on her couch, ‘’So. How was work today?’’

‘’Oh, you know, the usual,’’ Steve shrugs casually, ‘’Paint everywhere, had to tell a kindergartner to stop licking the desks, Jasmine practically jumping with excitement to go to music class.’’

‘’Oh, she loves music?’’

‘’She does. In fact, her teacher has become a good friend of mine.’’

It’s the second to last week of November, so Steve has known you for a good few months. You’ve laughed, you’ve shared details of your move, you’ve had lunch with him a few times.

He tells her this. He doesn’t tell her how his heart breaks a bit at the fact that you have a date tomorrow, even if he does.

‘’You know, Steve,’’ Sharon smirks a bit, but Steve can detect a hint of pettiness behind it, ‘’The way to a girls’ heart is not through talking about another woman.’’

Steve can feel his cheeks heat, ‘’I-I didn’t-’’

‘’I’m kidding, Steve,’’ Sharon snorts, ‘’Listen, we’re not exclusive. I know that you have a crush on our co-worker. I don’t think that you know, though.’’

Steve looks to Sharon, not sure what to say, ‘’I… I don’t have a crush.’’

‘’Okay, Steve. Sure. Listen,’’ she sits up, taking his hand, ‘’We are not exclusive. Why not ask this woman out? You talk about her a lot.’’

‘’She’s busy. She doesn’t have time to date,’’ Steve repeats what you say after a failed date that Pepper tried to set you up with.

‘’And? So are you. You’ve got a kid, two jobs, and your art club. If it’s meant to be, it’ll be. Same as us. So I’m not particularly worried about this- ask her out, Steve It may surprise you,’’ Sharon insists.

And that’s what Steve is thinking Saturday morning when he’s driving around town getting things for Sunday Dinner with Nat and Bucky.

   ‘’Yeah, sure,’’ he tells the woman on the other end, ‘’She can bring her kid. I’ll bring Jazzy.’’

   ‘’Thank you so much, Steve. You’re a sweetheart.’’

   ‘’No problem. I’ll meet her at the arcade at, let’s say…5. ‘’

   ‘’Alright, I’ll relay the message. Thank you, Steve.’’

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

   ‘’Where are we going, dad,’’ Jasmine questions Steve, as he pulls out of their apartment complex’s parking garage.

   ‘’Well, I had a date. But she has to  bring her kid, so I’m bringing you. I feel like I told you this.’’

   ‘’I wasn’t listening,’’ Jasmine admits.

   Steve glances at her before returning his eyes to the road, ‘’Jasmine, where did you get that hat from?’’

   ‘’Auntie Patricia. She said...she said that it was mom’s.’’

   And it was- a black,velvet hat with a pink blossom on it that her mother had got at a thrift store.

   ‘’It was. Your mom… she loved that hat. I gave it to your Aunt Patricia when your mom passed away.’’

   ‘’Dad, do you ever still miss her?’’

   ‘’All the time, sweetpea. But, hey, I’ve got God and I’ve got you,’’ Steve grins at her when he stops at the red light, ‘’And you’re so much like your mom.’’

   ‘’I am?’’

   ‘’Mhm. She loved to sing, too. Off-key, though,’’ he chuckles as he moves with the flow of traffic at the green light, ‘’And sometimes, she’d do this thing where, if she was trying to remember something, she’d snap as soon as she did. Drove me nuts, and you do it too.’’

   Steve can tell that she’s reflecting on this new found information, so he is silent until they pull into the parking lot of the arcade.

   ‘’Like my outfit,’’ Jasmine poses as they get out of the car.

   She’s dressed in her black sneakers, blue denim overalls, a rainbow long sleeve shirt, and the blossom hat.

   She looks so much like her mother.

   ‘’You look gorgeous, honey. Come on. Let’s get going,’’ Steve tells her, and the dynamic duo make their way to the arcade.

   Steve looks to his phone, and, pulling out the app that he uses to call parents from home so that they didn't have his real number, calls his date.

   ‘’Hello,’’ she answers on the second ring.

   ‘’Hey. Um, we’re here. Are you?’’

   ‘’I am,’’ Steve hears, ‘’We’re at a table over by the ski-ball machine. You can talk to me while you walk this way.

   ‘’Got it,’’ Steve grabs Jasmine’s wrist guiding her through the sem-crowded arcade to find his date for the evening, ‘’Thanks for being patient. I’m sorry we’re late.’’

   ‘’No worries. Thanks for being so relaxed about me bringing my daughter. My aunt and uncle have a wedding that he’s ordaining today, and my babysitter fell through.’’

   ‘’It’s fine, I’m actually happy about this,’’ he admits, ‘’We get to spend time with our kids and see about this.’’

   ‘’Hmmm… you’re right. That does sound… Steve?’’

   Steve looks to see none other than you on your phone, gaping up at him.

   ‘’Hey, what are you doing here,’’ Steve questions.

   ‘’Waiting for my date, what are… Steve, are you my date?’’

   ‘’Looks like it,’’ Steve glances next to you to see Olivia, his little helper from Mrs. Storm’s class,’’Olivia! How are you doing?’’

   ‘’I’m good, Mr. Rogers,’’ she speaks before burying herself in your arm.

   ‘’She’s shy,’’ you reveal, and Steve  nods.

   ‘’I didn’t know she was your daughter,’’ Steve tells you before Jasmine clears her throat, ‘’Jasmine, she already knows you’re my daughter.’’

   ‘’You’re dating my teacher.’’

   ‘’We’re not dating,’’ Steve sighs, ‘’This is a blind date. It’s one date. Does it make you feel weird?’’

   ‘’No,’’ Jasmine shrugs, sliding into the street across  from you and Olivia, ‘’I’m chill.’’

   ‘’...Stop copying Sam. Anyway,’’ Steve looks to you as he sits next to Jasmine, ‘’I didn’t know you had a daughter.’’

   ‘’Are you okay, sweetie,’’ you ask Olivia, who nods, before you turn your attention back to Steve, ‘’I don’t tell everyone, I just like to keep work and home separate.’’’

   ‘’Respected,’’ Steve nods, ‘’Listen, I’ll get the girls some  tokens, and you order the pizza? I think we can talk while they play games while we talk.’’

   Because, boy, do you two have a lot to talk about.

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

   Under your instructions, Jasmine and Olivia are playing some frog game where you hit them with a mallet while you and Steve keep an eye on the two.

   ‘’I didn’t know you were my date. My aunt said his name is ‘Grant’.’’

   ‘’Steven Grant Rogers,’’ Steve chuckles, looking down, ‘’I asked her to tell you that. I go by my middle name if it’s someone at the church, just so that the date is truly a blind date until we meet up.’’

   ‘’Speaking of which… I thought you were with Jasmine’s mother,’’ you approach the subject, ‘’You talk about her a lot. I just thought…’’

   ‘’No, it’s quite alright. I can see how you got that,’’ Steve looks to Jasmine, wistfulness filling his eyes, ‘’Petra, Jasmine’s mom, passed away the night that she was born.’’

   ‘’Steve,’’ you gasp, ‘’Steve, I...I’m sorry,  I didn’t.’’

   ‘’No, no, it’s fine. I talk about her a lot but mostly for Jasmine’s sake. She’s always hesitant to bring her up. I want her to know that it’s okay,’’ Steve watches as Jasmine takes the token cup in one hand, and Olivia’s hand in the other, and guides her over to the skee ball machines, ‘’What about Olivia? Is her dad around?’’

   ‘’He couldn’t get out of town fast enough. I haven’t seen him in five years,’’ you grimace a bit before smiling at Olivia, ‘’She’s one of my greatest blessings though, and I thank God for her. Even if her dad is trash.’’

   ‘’Tell me how you really feel,’’ Steve jokes, causing you to laugh at your shared bluntness.

   ‘’I mean, I've forgiven Darryl. That’s his name-I forgave him. Steve, iit hurt to hear her ask about her dad and cry about things that she needs him for, like the daughter-daddy dances. My dad and brothers went with her to stuff like that when we were in Texas, but you know… my uncle is even busier. Between charity events, running the church, Bible study… I don’t know. I don’t want to ask more of them. I just moved out. I feel like I can’t ask them.’’

   ‘’Hey, they love you. They helped me with Jazzy, I know they’ll help you, too. And, if you ever need a hand, I’m here.’’

   ‘’Thanks, Steve. I appreciate that,’’ you grin just as your pizza arrives, ‘’Thank you. Steve, I’m gonna take the girls to the bathroom and let them wash their hands, alright?’’

   ‘’Alright,’’ he agrees, ‘’I’ll watch the food and wait for the drinks.’’

   Pretty soon, you’re finishing up the pizza, and laughing while you do so.

   ‘’Daddy tries to sing,’’ Jasmine frowns, ‘’He’s doing his best.’’

   ‘’Thank you, honey. You’re grounded,’’ he laughs when she looks at him with fake hurt, ‘’Alright, chickadee. Go play. You’ve got thirty minutes.’’

   ‘’Okay, daddy. Come on, Olivia,’’ she grabs the five-year-old’s hand, pulling her to the air hockey table.

   ‘’She fancies herself a bit of a big sister, huh,’’ you look to Steve before looking back at your daughters, ‘’She’s always wanted a little sister. And her Aunt Nataasha and Uncle Bucky are happy with their dog, and Sam still hasn't settled down yet. This is the closer she’ll get.’’

   ‘’It’s sweet. She’s a sweet kid, Steve. You’ve done a very good job at raising her.’’

   ‘’Thank you. You’ve done a great job with Olivia, too.’’

   ‘’You have no idea how much I needed to hear that today,’’ you breathe out, blinking back tears, ‘’It was a rough day.’’

   ‘’I understand. If you ever need to talk or vent,’’ Steve places a hand on top of yours, causing you to look at where your hands are together on top of the table, the fluorescent lights above doing very little to illuminate how beautiful it is, his hands on yours,

   Be still,your beating heart.

   ‘’Steve…’’

   ‘’I don’t want to make you think that I’m forcing you into liking me or something. I mean.. I am dating other people. Well, one other person. Not exclusively,’’ Steve sighs, ‘’I don’t know. I just don’t want you to think that I am trying to make this be more than it is. I like us being friends, and that’s most important to me.’’

   For the past five years, you’ve been  focusing on Olivia and making things as normal as possible for her in all aspects that you haven’t seriously thought about dating. It always came down to her. The only reason you moved was to start over in a new life for yourself, and, in doing so, give Olivia a new life.

   ‘’I don’t know how I feel right now.Because I don’t want to lose this friendship, either.’’

   ‘’So then let’s just see where this goes,’’ Steve pats your hand gently before pulling his hand away, just as Olivia and Jasmine rejoin you, coming back with none other than DeShawn.

   ‘’Hi!,’’ DeShawn greets you both, ‘’Mr. Rogers, I’m here with my mom. She asked if she could take Jazzy and I for ice cream in about a half hour , then she’ll drop her off at home.’’

   Steve looks to his watch, and notices that it’s only seven, ‘’Sure. As long as Jasmine is home by 9:30. ‘’

   ‘’Thanks, Mr. Rogers!’’

   ‘’THanks, daddy! Bye,’’ Jasmine hugs Steve, you and even Olivia, ‘’I’ll see you later.’’

   ‘’Bye!’’

   The two are rushing off then, leaving you, Olivia and Steve.

   ‘’It’s an hour to bed time, little one,’’ you remind Olivia, ‘’Let’s head home, Livvy.’’

   ‘’But I want ice cream, too.’’

   ‘’Tomorrow. Otherwise you’ll be up all night,’’ you remind her, grabbing her coat, ‘’Since you got the tokens, I’ll pay for the pizza, Steve.’’

   ‘’Don’t worry about it,’’ Steve begins to reach for his wallet.

   ‘’No, I insist,’’ you button your daughter’s coat.

   ‘’Well, at least let me drive you to your apartment, like trail you. I just want to make sure you get home safely.’’

   You stand, folding your coat over your arm, ‘’Why?’’

   Maybe you’re being irrational and over defensive, but it is what it is, and you’re committed to protecting Olivia from getting attached just to get hurt.

   Olivia… and your own heart.

   ‘’Just as friends. I did it for my friend Nat  before she and Bucky got married. Promise.’’

   So that’s how you find yourself carrying Olivia as Steve unlocks your door.

   ‘’So my great-niece is passed out, huh?’’

   You and Steve look to see your aunt and uncle. Dressed from the wedding earlier.

   ‘’What are you two doing here?’’

   ‘’You really should charge your phone, dear,’’ your aunt takes your sleeping kindergartner, ‘’We came to check up on you.’’

   ‘’I’m sorry,’’ you sigh, ‘’It died at dinner.’’

   ‘’Well thank goodness for Steve, then, dear,’’ she winks at him, ‘’I’m gonna get her dressed in her pajamas.’’

   ‘’Steve. Always a pleasure to see you,’’ your uncle greets your date for the evening with a handshake.

   ‘’Pastor,’’ Steve acknowledges before your uncle enters behind your aunt, closing your door to give the two of you privacy.

   ‘’Sorry about them,’’ you chuckle, nervously clasping your hands together in front of you, ‘’Well… I’m going to church tomorrow, so I guess I’ll see you then.’’

   ‘’See you then,’’ Steve nods, rocking on his feet, ‘’Um… not to be ...imposing. I don’t know if that’s the correct word. But can I kiss you?’’

   It’s funny, he thinks, because he hesitated with Sharon. But not with you.

   ‘’I… I think I’d like that,’’ you whisper, just before Steve leans in and you…

   Pull away.

   ‘’I can’t. I just… Steve, I like you. But I really don’t want to go fast, because that’s how I got hurt last time.’’

   Steve is no stranger to being hurt. He’s been on countless of failed dated, lost the love of his life, and now he’s trying to juggle growing feelings for Sharon with a crush that has long been on you.

   ‘’I understand. Listen,’’ Steve leans his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes, ‘’I want you to know that you can trust me. I’m not… I’m not here to hurt you or Olivia.’’

   ‘’It’s gonna take a minute for me to see you as a potential partner and not just a coworker or friend, Steve. And I need you to respect that. Besides… you’re already seeing someone else. And I think that you should spend some time seeing the both of us before you make a choice about any of this.’’

   It’s a cop out, you feel, but also the truth. You’ve got Olivia to think about. And though you know Steve is a good guy, are you sure that you’re really ready for this? Thinking about dating him and actually dating him are two vastly different things.

   ‘’Am I getting ahead of myself?’’

   ‘’No. I , I think, with both of us being parents, we have to consider our daughters. So, no pressure. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?’’

   ‘’Yeah. Bye, Steve. Good night.’’

   ‘’Good night,’’ Steve turns on his heels, away from you and back to his car.

   And, for the first time in a while, Steve Rogers is left without a plan…

   And no idea how he feels about it.

   ‘’So… what’s the problem?’’

   ‘’I like Sharon, I like my co-worker. I’m not here for advice, Nat.’’

   It’s been three weeks since your date, and it’s two weeks before Christmas. Since then, you’ve enjoyed Skype dates, Saturday lunches, Wednesday Night Bible Study, and a Sunday dinner with Steve and sometimes your daughters…

   While Sharon has enjoyed Friday nights, Saturday breakfasts, and Wednesday early dinners with Steve,

   He’s been dating the both of you, and he’s honestly not sure who he’s more interested in. He loves your dedication, your sensitivity, your caring nature. But he adores Sharon’s spitfire attitude, sarcasm, and willingness to arrange her schedule without even having a child of her own.

   So here he is,after Sunday morning church service, at Nat and Bucky’s for dinner.

   ‘’Yes, you are,’’ she leans her head against her hand, glancing to where Jasmine and Bucky are in the kitchen, fixing up dinner, ‘’Because of Jasmine.’’

   Steve has spent the last ten years of his life making sure that Jasmine has everything she needs, and that if he can’t get it for her, someone can. He’s turned down dates, poured out savings to pay for things that he needs her to have, borrowed from Sam..

   Anything that he can do to take care of her.

   ‘’She’s my daughter, Nat. I’ve got to consider her.’’

   ‘’Yeah, I know, Steve. I’m not telling you not to. But you… how do  I say this? Steve, you’re using her as an excuse.’’    

   Steve looks to Natasha with a blank look, ‘’How’s that?’’

   ‘’You know I'm right. You find something wrong with every woman that you date, Steve. Don’t even-,’’ she holds up a hand before he can cut her off, ‘’You do. And most of the time, it’s valid. But here are two great women, who care about Jazz in some way, who accept her and you, who like you for more than your looks… and you’re looking for advice because you’re afraid.’’

   ‘’No, my co-worker is afraid,’’ Steve stresses, ‘’She doesn’t want to get hurt.’’

   ‘’And you don’t want Jasmine to get hurt,but you don’t want yourself to get hurt.’’

   Steve is ready to sputter out anything to refute her, to say how she’s wrong.

   ‘’You're glad that Sharon wants you to date others and you’re glad that your coworker is afraid because you are. Because you are constantly comparing every woman that you meet to Petra, Steve. Because... ,’’ Nat takes his hand, ‘’Because that hurt you to a point where you’re afraid to try again. And if I am wrong, I’ll admit that I’m wrong. But look me, one of our best friends, in the eye and tell me that’s not true.’’

   Steve can feel his tears, and Nat acts quickly. She tells Bucky that she’s showing Steve what they did with their office space, and guides him into the spare room, knowing that he doesn’t want to cry in front of Jasmine.

   ‘’Steve,’’ she sighs, not one for hugs, but opening her arms for her friend.

   And Steve, for the first time in years, crumbles at the thought of Petra.

   ‘’I can’t do it again, Nat,’’ he’s sobbing into her arms again, ‘’Not again.’’

   ‘’Hey. Hey, shhh… it’s okay,’’ Nat shushes him, ‘’Steve, you can’t hold this in all of the time.’’

   ‘’I’ve got to do it for Jazzy.’’

   ‘’Steve, look at me,’’ Natasha urges him, ‘’Jazzy is trying to hold it for you. She asked me if I had any more pictures of her mom. I really think something’s going on with her. Peter talks to Tony… her grades are getting better, she didn’t mind giving up her solo to spend more time studying...but really talks to her, Steve. About her mom, I mean. You know Bycky, Sam, Tony, Pepper and I are here for you.  You’ve got us.’’

   ‘’That’s the worst pain I’ve ever been through. I never want to go through that again.’’

   ‘’Steve, I can’t promise you that you won’t. I can promise that you never have to go through it alone. You have the strongest faith I have ever seen in someone. You can get through this and you're not alone.’’

   Steve thinks of her words, of the friendships that have become like family relationships, of all of the things that his partner has told him about faith…

   And of the premise that he made Petra the day that they found out about Jasmine- to always be there for her no matter what.

   ‘’Nat,’’ Steve sighs, pulling Nat into a hug again, ‘’I don’t know what I’d do without you.’’

   ‘’Your life would suck,’’ she deadpans, laughing when Steve place a friendly kiss on her head.

   ‘’You comforted me, and you said you didn’t have any maternal instincts. You know I love you, and Jasmine adores you.’’

   ‘’I love you both, too. You know that. And, I guess it’s about time that I got some maternal instincts to come out. I’ll be needing them in about seven months.’’

   Steve’s grin starts slow, but he can totally see Nat being a great mom, and Bucky being a great day, ‘’Does Buck know?’’

   ‘’Not yet. I’ll tell him tonight, after dinner. So, please, don’t tell anyone else.’’

   ‘’Your secret's safe with me,  but we'd better get out there before they get worried.’’

   Nat Nods in agreement, and the two walk out to find Bucky and Jasmine setting the table for dinner.

   ‘’Everything okay,’’ Bucky asks the two of them, eyes on his best friend and wife as Jasmine sets forks on the table.

   ‘’Yeah, what have you two been up to,’’ Nat inquires, ‘’That salad looks amazing, Buck.’’

   ‘’My assistant made it,’’ Bucky Gestures to Jasmine, who bows gracefully.

   ‘’That’s my girl,’’ Steve high fives his daughter, ‘’Looks good, sweetpea.I can’t wait to dig in.’’

   When dinner is over, Jasmine and Steve go home, change into their pajamas, and lounge on the couch.

   ‘’Only a few more days until the Christmas concert?’’

   ‘’Igues,’’ Jasmine shrugs, ‘’I don’t really care about the solo, so I’m glad it went to Alexandria.  DeShawn’s mom said she’d take us shopping over the weekend. Dad… daddy, I don’t want to do anything for my birthday this year.’’

   Well, he certainly wasn’t expecting that.

   ‘’Why not, Jazzy?’’

   ‘’Because it makes you sad. It makes you think about mom. And you don’t…’’

   Steve looks over to see his daughter wiping tears furiously, ‘’Jazzy? Jazzy what’s wrong?’’

   ‘’I’m just tired! I just… dad, why don’t we talk about mom more? WHy don’t you show me more pictures?’’

   And there it is. It finally came out, and Steveis both happy that he knows what’s bothering his daughter, and upset that he didn’t see it sooner.

   ‘’Come here,’’Steve pulls his daughter in a hug, ‘’Sweetheart, why didn’t you say anything sooner?’’

   ‘’I don’t know,’’ she shrugs, wiping her face, ‘’Dad… I just. I miss her, and I didn’t know her.’’

   ‘’That’s fine, sweetheart. I should have talked about her before. I Didn't want to upset you, but I guess that I did.’’

   ‘’I love spending time with Aunt Patricia, I love Aunt Nat.But I just feel like I don’t… I look at DeShawn and his mom, and Olivia and her mom. I want that. ‘’

   ‘’I know you do,’’ he sighs,kissing her head, ‘’I’m so sorry, Jazzy.’’

   ‘’It’s okay,dad.’’

   ‘’It’s not okay, but we will remedy the situation. Tomorrow, I’ll pull out her old pictures. Next time you feel like this, Jazzy, talk to me. You know that I want what’s best for you.’’

   ‘’I know, daddy. I love you.’’

   ‘’I love you, too, Jazzy.’’

   And the two stay like that for a bit, just spending time with each other, talking between the two of them.

   ‘’Dad, do you like both Sharon and my teacher?’’

   ‘’I think I do,yeah,’’ Steve admits, because he’s always been honest with his daughter, ‘’But I’ve got you to think about, too, Jazz. So I won’t rush into anything.’’

   ‘’Dad, I love you, but… I like them both, too.  Sharon is nice and fun, but so is my music teacher. I mean… it would take some getting used to. But I like her, and she won’t be my teacher when I go to middle school next year.’’

   Jasmine sees the world for what it is, while also weighing the possibilities. Just like you. And it’s something Steve has already known, and he just now realizes that his daughter is very mhc mature for a ten year old, and he somehow got to witness her transformation into a young lady and missed it in the blink of an eye.

   ‘’When did you get so smart?’’

   ‘’I always am. It’s late, dad. I’m going to bed. Love you.’’

   ‘’Love you, too, Jazzy.’’

   So Jasmine heads off to bed, and Steve retires to his own room shortly after, with a plan for tomorrow.

   First he’ll get up early and pull out those pictures of Petra to show Jasmine after school. Then, he’ll text Sharon and see if they can talk. Finally, he’ll see you at school, and talk to you.

   Steve has learned that he has to accept certain things, but he can fight for what he wants at times, too.

   And if it’s meant to be, Steve is sure that it will find a way.

DISCLAIMER- I own no Marvel characters or their fictional worlds, planets, countries, galaxies, etc. 

@ashanti-notthesinger @destinio1 @afraiddreamingandloving @airis-paris14 @syreanne @chaneajoyyy @90sinspiredgirl @shemiahsmelanin @zillmonger @skysynclair19 @marvelpotterlove @constantlycravingtheunknown @imaginewhoever @wakanda-inspired @pocmarvelworks @theunsweetenedtruth @dreampovx @adrioola21 @supremethunda @thisiskayesworld @mcusocialimagines @priya212  @kumkaniudaku  @airis-paris14 @alexundefined @fonville-designs  @dramaqueenamby  @mellowjellow6 @oceanscorazon @nerd-lovely @fonville-designs @akimi-youngblood @yoyolovesbucky @fd-writes @areubeingserved-too @areubeingserved

[searchingwardrobes]

My Problems with Once and Adoption/Foster Care

Ya’ll know I love this show, and I love the character of Emma Swan. BUT . . . their portrayal of adoption and foster care - particularly the adults who care for these children - leaves much to be desired. The thing that especially saddens me are those in the fandom who buy into their portrayal without question. I recently started another fic that throws adoption agencies under the bus. I don’t fully fault writer’s. After all, the source material is flawed, and we all want to write Emma in character. However, I just hope I can give you another perspective.

Why in the world am I qualified to talk about this? Well, let’s see . . .

* My cousin fostered to adopt all three of her children, two of them brothers.

* My sister pursued adoption for several years before deciding to embrace being, as she puts it, “the best aunt ever” instead.

* My best friend waited ten years to adopt her precious daughter. She went through the heartbreak of caring for her first child - a son - until his birth mother changed her mind at the last minute before the adoption was final. 

* We have a close family friend who is like an “extra grandma” to my kids and her adult daughter was adopted at birth. 

* My sister in law and her brother are adopted.

* My husband’s youngest brother and sister were officially adopted by his dad after he married their mom.

* Another close friend of mine adopted her twelve year old daughter from The Philippines two years ago. She was born with her mouth fused shut, no feet, and no hands. I tutored this little girl for a year, and I love her to death! 

* A friend of mine who is now in her sixties put her daughter up for adoption when she became pregnant at fourteen. The girl found her as an adult, and they have now forged a relationship.

* Another friend of mine is fostering her niece while her sister is in rehab. Right now, it looks like it may become permanent.

This isn’t even an exhaustive list of all the people I know who have fostered and adopted. These all span multiple locations as well.  I know it’s not the same as going through it myself, but all of the above people are dear to me and it hurts me deeply to see their way of life misrepresented. 

So here are just a few things that I want to point out concerning the plot on Once:

1. Domestic infant adoption in the US varies state to state, but it basically goes like this:

* If a birth mother decides to pursue an adoption while she is still pregnant, it is HER decision who gets her baby. If she goes through an agency (most common), she will get to look through profiles of potential adoptive parents. This is important to remember, PLEASE! The birth mother chooses the parents, not the other way around. If it’s a private adoption, she usually finds out about the parents through friends, family, or acquaintances, but the choice is still hers. Therefore, if Emma had decided to put Henry up for adoption before he was born, as the show implies, she would have been the one to pick Regina out as his adoptive mom. 

* The birth mother can decide to meet the birth parents or never meet them. The birth mother has the right to ask for financial assistance for everything from maternity clothes to counseling after she gives the baby up. The only thing illegal is the mother can’t “sell” her baby. In other words, she can’t make a profit off the adoption.

* The birth mother also gets to decide if it is a closed adoption, semi open, or completely open. Even in a closed adoption, the child has the right to the birth parent’s medical records when they come of age. Open adoptions are on a scale. Some birth mothers attend birthday parties and have regular visitation. Others let the child decide on contact when they reach a certain age. Sometimes they send letters each year on the child’s birthday. There are dozens of arrangements the birth mother can come to with the birth parents, and it all gets spelled out in a legal document.

* The only time an infant is placed in foster care is if the birth mother decides after birth that she doesn’t want the child. This is always temporary. Infants are either returned to the birth parents or are adopted. THERE IS NO GROWING UP FROM INFANCY IN FOSTER CARE! Now, a child can be taken away from their birth home at a later date due to neglect, drug abuse, etc. But no kid is born into foster care. There are thousands of parents in the US waiting for an infant to adopt, more than there are babies to adopt. That’s why it took my best friend TEN YEARS to find her daughter. That’s why when a baby was abandoned at the Atlanta airport a few years back, hundreds of parents called family services wanting the child. The boy had a home (which became permanent) within 48 hours. There is no way a healthy, beautiful baby girl like Emma would have been put in that group home like we saw in season two. At worst, she would have been placed with foster parents temporarily until the waiting period was over. (See below)

* After the infant is given over to the birth parents, there is a waiting period. During that time, the birth mother can change her mind. This varies wildly from state to state. Here in Georgia, it’s two weeks. In Pennsylvania, where my best friend lives, it is an entire month. On day 30, my best friend had to give her son back to his birth mother. I can not convey to you the pain she endured. Having said that, I’m glad birth mothers have the freedom to change their minds. I would never want to go back to the 1950s when babies were ripped from the arms of their devastated mothers who were given no say in the matter. On a side note, some adoptive parents opt to let the baby go to a temporary foster home until the waiting period is over so they don’t go through heartbreak if the birth mother changes her mind. My next door neighbors chose that route when they adopted their daughter, but remember in Georgia, that’s only two weeks. With my best friend, she felt a month was too long and she was willing to love on that child even if it was only for a month. 

* Even after the waiting period is over, the adoption is not official until the parents stand before a judge. Legally speaking, this is more binding than birthing a biological child. In other words, there is no going back. No returning the child. No exchanges. No refunds. Which brings me to . . . 

THE SWANS GIVING EMMA BACK: If Emma was legally adopted, this would be impossible. She states that she was three when it happened, making it even less credible to me. The only way this would make sense is if they were foster parents who never legally adopted her. It is true that foster parents sometimes decide to stop fostering when they have biological children, but adoption? Nope. (Not to mention the show later claimed that Emma chose the last name Swan herself when she was 9 or 10, so .  . . )

2. The cost of adoption:

* I don’t know where the idea comes from that it’s expensive for a birth mother to give her baby up for adoption. The adoptive parents pay for everything, as I stated above, or at the very least, they pay the medical bills. This doesn’t mean it’s EASY for a mother to give up her baby. Props to Jen for portraying Emma’s agony so well in season three! However, just because something is difficult doesn’t mean it isn’t the best decision for the CHILD. Obviously, my friend who is now in her sixties was unable to care for a child at 14, when she was a child herself! She was thrilled to hear her birth daughter tell her about the happy home she was raised in. Like Emma tells Henry, birth mother’s give their children up “to give them their best chance.” It is a selfless decision.

* It IS expensive to adopt - for the adoptive parents. There are legal fees, fees for home inspections (which expire and have to be redone yearly), travel fees, medical fees (not only maternity for the birth mother, but physicals for them, their children, and even their pets), and then additional fees if they are paying an agency. This is a simplified list, honestly. A friend of mine had a blog when she was adopting her sons from Ethiopia, and her list of paperwork that had to be filed was mind-boggling. 

RUMPLE ARRANGING HENRY’S ADOPTION: Considering all of the above, it had to be an illegal, black market adoption. That does exist  -however, it’s usually foreign, not domestic. Nine times out of ten, however, they just swindle couples who are desperate to adopt. But you know, Once writers . . .  

3. The reasons parents adopt or foster:

* Inability to conceive - this has to be number one. It’s the reason my best friend adopted, and it’s the reason my sister pursued it for so long. One sad thing? The most common reason for infertility is a disease called polycystic ovarian syndrome. One of the symptoms is weight gain, regardless of diet or exercise. Yet guess what many countries require for you to adopt? A “healthy” BMI. Meaning women with PCOS have an even harder time adopting.

* Compassion for orphans - This is why my friends adopted their daughter from the Philippines. They have two biological children, but when they thought about the millions of orphans in the world, they felt led to share their home and family with a child who did not have one. I know several people who foster for the same reason. They aren’t doing it for a “check from the government.” (And fyi, the government gives them most of that “money” in the form of food stamps and other public benefits that often only covers the bare minimum.)

* A need in their family - My friend who took in her niece had just come upon her “empty nest years,” but she couldn’t look the other way when a three year old little girl was being neglected because of her mother’s addictions. She and her husband were then back to pull ups (the mother hadn’t even attempted potty training), preschool cartoons, and teaching the ABCs. Their niece also had spent so much time in an exersaucer that her legs were crippled and she still couldn’t walk. They had to pay for braces on her legs and physical therapy. But how could they turn away their own flesh and blood? (By the way, she is now five years old and thriving!)

REASONS TO ADOPT ACCORDING TO ONCE: To fulfill your own needs and soothe your own loneliness. I’m not saying there aren’t awful, selfish people out there who adopt for that reason, but I ask you: How many people would be willing to go through ALL the difficulties I described above for selfish reasons? It just doesn’t make sense. And frankly, it is insulting to the many adoptive and foster parents that I know and love. 

4. Regardless of all of the above, adopted kids DO struggle at times.

* Mary Margaret tells Emma in season one that Henry has the same question that all adopted kids do: “why did my real parents give me up?” (I’m paraphrasing, but you remember this scene, I’m sure). This is actually true. Pretty much every family I know who has adopted, their kids have gone through this at some point. No matter how loving a home they are raised in, this question inevitably comes up. Some kids (or adults) meet their birth parents and find peace : they really weren’t able to take care of me, they really did want what was best for me, they did it because they loved me. For others, meeting their birth parents is painful. Yet none of that means the adoption wasn’t the best choice or that the adoptive parents were awful to the child (like Regina).

* Is the foster care system in the US flawed? Yes. There are too many cases and not enough social workers. Children fall through the cracks, some of them have tragically died. However, if you actually look into the facts in such cases, children are most often injured or killed not by foster parents, but by their birth parents. Usually it is the system’s failure to remove children from dangerous homes that is the problem, not cruel foster parents. There are also not enough foster parents for children who need homes, with older children being the hardest ones to place. Many of these kids are suffering from severe trauma and caring for them isn’t easy. Typically, the reason kids are bounced around in the system is because their parents keep regaining custody, loosing it again, regaining it again, etc, etc. By the time the parents either get their shit together or relinquish custody, the kid’s a preteen or teen. So my question for Once is:

WHY DID EMMA GET BOUNCED AROUND? She was put back in the system at three, but we don’t see her again until she’s eight or so at the movie theater. Do you really expect me to believe they couldn’t find a home for adorable, sweet, smart little three year old Emma? My sister would have adopted a little girl like that in a heartbeat! She wouldn’t have cared that she was three. We’re told that Emma kept running away, but at three? 

No way little Emma was incapable of being adopted. I just don’t buy it. Since adopted kids have issues even in loving homes, why couldn’t that have been the writer’s narrative? Couldn’t Emma’s adoptive parents simply died at some point? In my opinion, the whole thing was just lazy writing.

[lassluna]

The Pumpkin Incident

Summery: It was supposed to be a quick trip to the pumpkin patch. Quick in and out, grab the pumpkins and get home. She was not supposed to meet newcomer Killian Jones. She was certainly not supposed to end up trick or treating with Henry, a pirate and little Robin Hood. 

(But why does he look so damn good as a pirate?!)

Ao3 FFn

AN: This is my contribution to the @csrolereversal​ . Thank you so much @darkcolinodonorgasm for putting this event together it was wonderful to be a part of. Please see the art that this is based on by @carpedzem it's amazing Thank you so much for all your help making this story what it was, she also did some beta work on this thing, so please go check out her art. Also thanks soo much to all the people who helped inspire some of this over on discord!

What Emma will never understand is the fascination for pumpkins everyone has this time of year. Because seriously, why pumpkin of all things?

Pumpkin spice, Pumpkin carving, even pumpkin hummus! Pumpkin wasn’t even that good!

(She’d be lying to say she didn’t try the pumpkin hummus, it was as gross as she expected.)

“We need to find the biggest Pumpkin!” Leo announces proudly from the back seat of Emma’s bug. Emma smirks at her nephew’s assertion. At 12 years old, the kid thought he was ready to conquer the world.

“Nuh uh.” Henry disagrees. “We need to find the weirdest pumpkin. I want the one no one else wants.” Emma steals a glance at her big hearted kid. Henry, being 2 years Leo’s junior, always loves finding the underdog, whether it be the saddest pumpkin, or the smallest plant, Henry always wanted to give it a shot.

(Emma’s always surprised how well these smaller things blossom under Henry’s influence, as if he’s made them succeed with his pure belief)

“Smaller things are lame.” Leo retorts.

“You’re lame!” Henry replies bitterly.

“Hey, no calling your cousin lame.” Emma says immediately silencing them mid argument. If the boys are left alone, it would soon dissolve into a fight. “We can get both, how does that sound?”

Emma hears small mumbles of agreement. She suppresses a sigh herself.

Typically, it was David who did this kind of stuff with the boys, all the dirty messy stuff dads did with their sons. Henry was almost always included, something she was eternally grateful for. Emma hoped that David made up for Henry not having a father in some way.

It was why when David's shift got changed to work the afternoon before Halloween rather than the morning. She offered to take the boys instead to pick out pumpkins to carve. It was a tradition of sorts so she would hate for them to miss it.

"Alright, we're here." She announces, pulling into the parking spot besides Tiny's Farm. "Everyone remember the rules?"

"No talking to strangers, and always be within sight." Leo echoes in an annoyed tone.

"Good." Emma says unlocking the doors. The boys pile out of the bug and make a beeline towards the pumpkin patch.

She can see the one Leo has his eyes on, an absolute monster of a pumpkin that he most likely won't be able to carry. 

"Maybe not-" but she's interrupted by the kid in question trying to lift the pumpkin.

“Leo-” She tried, before he managed to get it off the ground before nearly dropping it onto his foot.

“Easy lad.” says a voice, as a man came around to help support the pumpkin's weight and keep Leo from accidentally hurting himself. “That’s a big pumpkin for a little lad.”

That made Leo pout, and try once more to pick up the pumpkin“I’m not little” Leo says impatiently. 

“Leo, do not pick up the pumpkin.” Emma snaps. “You can really hurt yourself if you’re not careful." The little brunette boy threw a glare her way.

"But I am being careful. Dad would let me." he says simply.

"Well your Dad's at work, so why don't you find a pumpkin that won't need a seatbelt." She glances around noticing Henry talking to a young boy, several appropriate sized pumpkins scattered about."Look, Henry's finding plenty." She points out.

With a huff, Leo crosses his arms and walks towards his cousin. Emma has no doubt that after seeing some more pumpkins he’ll forget all about the giant one.

"The lad is certainly spirited." The man says with a chuckle.

"Yup. Thanks for helping Leo." She says turning towards the stranger. 

He was a bit taller than her, wrapped in dark leather, and more importantly handsome, very handsome.

"Anytime love," he says shooting her a brilliant smile. It makes her blush ever so slightly. She’s surprised she doesn’t recognize him, being a Sheriff in a relatively small town, Emma feels like she knows a majority of the locals by name.

“You’re not from around here are you?” She inquires with a smile, noticing him watching the young boy talking to Henry. 

“What gave it away?” He asks, tilting his head slightly.

“I’m something of an expert of this place.” She says casually. 

“Oh?”

“Plus the accent, not many foreigners in Storybrooke.” She says. “So what’s your story? Visiting family?”

His grin wides. “Killian Jones.” He introduces. “But not visiting family, hoping to use the holiday to help the lad settle in.” He says gesturing towards the boy. “His mother just got a job as the new District Attorney so here we are.”

Emma had heard David talking about that, with Spencer retiring, they were looking for someone new. Word around town was that she was a very blunt straight forward woman with a husband and son...

“Killy!” The boy calls out, beckoning their attention. They both venture closer to the boys “Can Henry come trick or Treat with us?” He asks, big wide eyes looking at the man.

“Why don’t we ask his mother lad?” Killian says smoothly, looking at the pumpkin the younger boy was holding. “That’s a mighty fine treasure you found.” He says.

“Can we Mom?” Henry asks. She looks to the two energetic boys, big wide eyes.

“Sorry kid, you know the rules.” She says. It had been a long held rule that holidays were for family. It was time for Leo and Henry to have fun as cousins. “Halloween is just for family, you’ll have a good time with Leo.”  

Speaking of Leo...

"Leo. Put down the pumpkin!"

"Fine."

“Understood...” He confirms with a nod, trailing off.

“Emma.” She introduces. “Sheriff Emma Swan.”

"Swan." He says simply. "Well Swan”, he says fishing into his pocket. "If you change your mind about the trick or treating..." he hands her a card. 

"Oh?" She says surprised. "Photographer?" She reads on the slip of cardstock. 

"Usually weddings and the like, the address is outdated but the number...” He scratched behind his ear nervously. 

“Do you usually give your number out to people you just meet?” She asks with a brow raised in curiosity.

“Typically that's how one gets business, besides you’re the sheriff.”

She smiles as he and his son walk off. He has the boy’s pumpkin in his arm, the other holding onto the boy’s hand. 

For a moment, Emma wonders about calling the guy.

The next she wonders, if he was here with his son and wife, why the hell was he flirting with her?

//

They arrive back at the farmhouse with no less than five pumpkins. Emma’s not entirely sure how the boys swindled her into buying more pumpkins than they could possibly carve in a month, let alone the few hours till Halloween.

“Pumpkins Pumpkins!” The boys shouted the moment she pulled into her spot in the driveway, practically falling over themselves carrying their pumpkins into the house. 

“We have Pumpkins Mom!” Leo calls rushing through the front door. Emma follows behind, holding the other two they just had to have. 

Mary Margret, her sister in law looks like she just got home, purse still laying on the couch, kettle still simmering for her daily cup of tea.

“You did!” The pixie cut 4th grade teacher says, a brilliant smile as she embraces her son. She looks up at Emma thankfully, but with a curious expression. 

Why so many?

Emma shakes her head.

Don’t ask...

“Go set them on the table and go wash your hands.” She says simply. The boys don’t miss a beat obeying Mary Margaret’s instructions. No one could disobey something when she used her teacher voice, even David and her sometimes caught themselves listening when she raised her voice to that teacher pitch. 

“You know Emma.” Her sister-in-law says taking a seat on the couch “You’ll still be Leo’s favorite aunt if you say no to his demands.” Emma groans, collapsing into one of her nearby chairs.

“You know I’m not good at that, if it isn’t something that will put them in mortal danger I’m a sap.”

She laughs in agreement.

It’s then that they could hear a rickety truck pull into the driveway. Everyone in the house knew exactly what that was.

“Dad!” Leo proclaimed, racing towards the door as it swung open.

“Hey bud.” David says, giving his son a hug. 

“Uncle David, Uncle David!” Henry exclaims behind his blonde haired cousin. “Look at the pumpkins we got!” He nodded, letting the boys pull him towards the table where the oddly shaped pumpkins waited for carving. Emma could vaguely hear all the ideas they had for the designs that David was going to help them make.

“Let him put his stuff down first.” Mary Margaret calls after them. “Don’t forget to wash your hands!”

“Yes honey.” David replies. There are moments like this that really remind Emma how perfect her brother’s life was. He ran an animal shelter on Main street, married his high school sweetheart, the most perfect person Emma had ever met. 

It was really Emma to really feel like a screw up next to him.

 Sure she was a sheriff, but that was more of an accident than anything else. The town really only needed two deputies with the sheriff. When Graham Humbert decided he wanted to leave town, Emma was the natural choice. Will Scarlet, the other deputy didn’t really fit the sheriff role.

“Are we going to cut the brain out of the pumpkin now?” Leo asks. “Are you going to use the big knife?”

She watches as Mary Margaret grabs the knife from the kitchen, helping David empty the centers from the pumpkins.

“Did you have fun with Emma today?” Mary says, once all the prep work had been completed and both Emma and she had a glass of red wine in their hands.

“Yeah.” Leo says casually, marker in hand as he draws a spooky face on the pumpkin. She could tell the blonde was concentrating as he had the same face both his father, and cousin had as they too were focused on their creations. “I had this huge Pumpkin I was going to get, like you wouldn’t believe it mom! It was so big!” He extends his arms trying to illustrate the size of the thing. “I tried to get it, but Auntie Emma said it was too big to fit in the car.” He explains.

Emma nods. “We probably wouldn’t have been able to get it to fit in the bug.” She agrees. 

“The guy could have helped...” Henry pipes in rather cheerfully.

“Guy? What guy?” David repeats rather surprised, looking between the boys and Emma. He practically screamed over protective big brother mode, making Emma roll her eyes.

Emma closes her eyes, knowing what was about to happen.

"Emma was talking to a guy." Leo says, not even looking up, too busy carving the pumpkin while David helped Henry.

It certainly got Mary Margaret’s attention. 

“There was a guy with his son...” She says at the excited look her sister in law was giving her. “He’s married, so obviously I’m not pursuing anything.” She says quickly. 

“But this is the first guy you’ve gotten excited about since-”

“I don’t think I’m getting excited about anything.” She reminds her. “I just had a nice conversation. That’s it.”

It was silly, really, to read anything at all into this. 

It was just a conversation. A conversation she’d enjoyed, but still just a talk. She'd talked to plenty of people. Perhaps she hadn’t smiled as much or laughed or been disappointed when it ended. Plus he never said anything about being married to his son’s mother. She knows better than anyone that just because you have a kid does not mean you’re married...

She should not be reading into anything.

“Maybe just consider it Emma. I know you don’t like talking about these things, but your walls, the walls you put up ever since Henry was born and Neal left...they may keep out pain, but they also keep out love too.” The older woman glances back at the boys carving. David overseeing them. “A lot can happen when you open yourself to the possibility of love.”

Emma shakes her head.

It didn’t mean anything.

Emma doesn’t need a man. She certainly doesn’t need to be fantasising about a married man, or one in the middle of a divorce or something, her life was complicated enough!

Ok, maybe being a simple sheriff in a small town wasn’t that complicated, but she had Henry to think about. Emma didn’t need tall dark and handsome to make her simple life ever the more complicated.

Mary Margret was going to take the boys trick or treating, and she was going to have a nice night to herself. Maybe she’d do her toes. She hates painting her own nails, so probably not, she’d certainly have a glass of wine. Maybe two.

It was going to be a good night. Emma Swan was determined to have a good night tonight if it killed her.

But of course, things never go according to plan. 

“Mom! Leo set the pumpkin on fire!” She hears called over her thoughts. 

Emma blinks, then looks up, seeing Mary Margaret’s ten year old standing in front of a currently aflame pumpkin.

Or maybe not...

//

“But it’s not fair!” Leo exclaims angrily. “Why does Henry get to Trick or Treat if I’m grounded?”

“Because your cousin didn’t put five candles in his pumpkin that caught the rest of the pumpkin on fire.” David says casually, from his seat on the couch. 

Leo was in half of his green goblin costume glaring daggers at Henry in his knight outfit. When his parents saw what he was doing, they immediately jumped into action, putting out the fire and grounding their son effective immediately.

“The pumpkin wasn’t behaving.” The elder kid said darkly, arms crossed. “Why is that, my fault?” Mary Margaret sighs.

“Because we don’t light vegetables on fire in the house.”

“Can I go do it outside?”

“No!”

A very annoyed Leo slumped in his chair.

“But we’re supposed to trick or treat together.” He counters.

“Grounding trumps all family rules.” Mary Margret cuts in. “In addition, this is not the first time we’ve had trouble following fire safety Leo.” She too takes her seat on the couch, reality shows blaring in the background. 

They had really spared no expense in teaching Leo a lesson. Not only was he grounded for a month, but right when she and Henry headed out, the plan was to play some informational movies about how not to set fires.

“But who am I going to Trick or Treat with?” Henry asks, glancing at his pumpkin pail sadly. 

“Henry...” Emma says, not to sure how she was going to solve this problem. “Do you think any of your classmates would mind if you tagged along?” She asks. Henry instantly looks mortified at the suggestion. 

“Henry doesn’t have any friends.” Leo says sarcastically. Throwing an eye roll their way.

“Leopold!” Mary Margaret says sternly. “You apologize to your cousin right now.” She orders her son.

Emma can’t help but glare at the boy as he mumbled through a half meaning apology. Henry barely glanced at the older boy, cheeks pink with embarrassment. 

    Did Henry really not have any friends?

“Henry...” She says simply, pulling her kid to the side. “Are you having trouble making friends?” She asks. They’d been in town for years by now, but when Emma thinks about it, Henry hasn’t gone to any birthday parties, no one had come over to their little apartment, he hadn’t gone over to anyone else’s....

Henry didn’t respond, which was answer enough for her usual chatty boy.

“Roland wanted to be my friend.” He says finally. “Can I trick or treat with him?”

Emma hesitates only a fraction, seeing her kid’s eyes light up when she pulls the business card out of her pocket. Jones Photos. 

“I’ll give them a call.” Emma says. “But I’m going with you, non negotiable.” 

Henry’s eyes light up, and regardless of Emma’s own worries about contacting Killian Jones, she’s determined to fix things for Henry.

Hey, this is Emma from the Pumpkin Patch, is it possible for Henry and I to come trick or treat with you and Roland?

 //

“Are you sure this is going to fit?” Emma asks once more as Mary Margaret tightens the straps in the back of her costume.

“Of course Emma!” She says excitedly. “Bandit Snow is going to look so good on you!”

Emma hadn’t planned to trick or treat this year with the kids, so when Leo wanted to be the Green Goblin, and Henry wanted to be a knight, David and Mary Margaret decided to match the kids themselves, rather than going in couple costumes. David had gotten a perfect Spider Man costume, while Margaret had decided on going as Snow White, except Mary Margaret always hated the whole ‘Damsel and Distress’ idea so she had done some… alterations.

“So now that the leather vest is on, we can get you in the pants and here’s the bow and the sword, it’s a fake sword but it’s really realistic...” She rambles.

"Its fine, trust me. I really appreciate you lending it to me..." she says trailing off. It doesn't look half bad on her if she's being honest... She likes the look of the blue vest, the under shirt is a bit poofy, but its not unbearable. She got to wear her own khaki pants with some boots.

"You're phone buzzed." Mary Margaret notes handing her the device.

Absolutely! We're thinking of hitting Main Street first, would you like to meet us there?

"You said he was a photographer?" Mary Margaret asks. Emma nods as she types out her reply.

Yeah that works, what time are you thinking?

Emma barely takes notice as her sister-in-law takes the abandoned business card and types something into her phone.

“You didn’t tell me he was that handsome!” She hisses into her ear. It makes her blush brightly as she tries to get her hair tied up. She ties a messy ponytail, which Mary Margaret quickly undoes. Emma can see that she has the guy’s website pulled up, along with a photo of him taking some photos.

“Mary Margaret...” Emma says with a sigh. “You do know you’re married to my brother right?”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t admire hotness when I see it.” She says with a wink.

“Oh my God, stop please.” 

She ties a much tighter one, letting a few strategically placed hairs escape the hair tie. It's much tighter than the one Emma had done.

45 minutes?

"Looks good." Emma says with a smile. But they have to get going. She stands, exiting the master bedroom. "Henry! Ready to go?" 

He practically bolts from his chair looking every bit the knight from his fairy tales, flowing cape, dark blue puffy pants and a light blue tunic. He was practically beaming with excitement.

"Time for Operation Trick or Treat!" 

//

I’m dressed like a pirate, Roland’s dressed as Robin Hood from the movie.

Emma takes another glance up from her phone, looking around carefully for them.

“Swan!”

She turns around, seeing a pirate and fox-bandit coming towards them. She waves at them, especially when she sees Henry jump to get their attention.

“Glad you could join us.” Killian says once they’re close enough. But Emma was too… distracted by his pirate get up.

“You look...”

His vest is a scarlet red color, his jacket is dark, long and flowy, his eyes were lined with eyeliner and his fingers have ruby rings on one hand, the other was...a hook? 

He looks better than he did before, if Emma’s being honest. 

She should not be thinking these things, not when he’s possibly married.

He smirks. “I know.”

Emma can’t help but roll her eyes at the smugness. “You look great too Swan.” Emma flicks her hair in agreement, watching as the boys chat excitedly as well. “Where should we start?” 

It’s Henry that answers. “Granny’s, She always gives hot chocolate when we trick or treat, plus Ruby gives the best candy.” Roland nods in agreement and rushes in the general direction of the cafe.

“They’re getting along well.” Killian murmurs. “Henry goes to the local elementary school right?” Emma nods. 

“4th grade.”

“Perfect, same as Roland. I’m glad the lad will have a friend when he starts school on Monday.” Emma didn’t expect that, she knew he was new in town, but the thought that he was about to be a new regular was a bit surprising. That meant PTA meetings, soccer games, bake sales, carpool lines...“Where’s your other boy, Leo?” Killian asks.

“Oh, he’s my nephew, Henry’s my son.” Emma clarifies. “Leo got grounded by his parents.”

“On Halloween?”

“There was a Pumpkin Incident...” Emma says casually, hoping he doesn’t press for details.

“Trick or Treat, Sheriff.” Granny says when they reach the dinner, handing her a styrofoam cup of hot chocolate, just the way she likes it.

“Hey Granny, have you met Killian yet?” She introduces taking a sip of her drink, inhaling the scent of cinnamon. The older woman nods, looking him up and down. The guy grins back at her.

“Didn’t realize I made an impression.”

“Of course, not many in this town are as fine as you.” She says with a wolfish smirk. This makes Killian’s cheeks turn pink as he scratches behind his ears.

He’s about to respond when Ruby, dressed as The Little Red Riding Hood, as always, quickly intervenes. “Granny! Stop hitting on people.” Pulling the older woman away. “We're nearly out of marshmallows!” She exclaims, shooting an apologetic smile their way.

“Come on Mom!” Henry groans, grabbing her hand. “Lets keep going!” Killian is also being pulled away by Roland. Not that she’s surprised, they decide to trick or treat down the stores on Main Street, before descending on the residential block just across from it.

“They seem to have this down to a science.” Killian points out, noticing that they’d only been at this for an hour and Roland had a completely full pail. She nods. 

“It’s the usual route, most of the locals know what houses to hit first, and which to avoid. For example,” She points to a small quaint looking cottage filled with a beautiful garden. “Never visit Aurora and Phillip’s house, rumor has it they give out raisins.” Killian visibly shutters. “But they’re really nice people, just a bit too into healthy eating...” She points to the large mansion decorated with cobwebs and batts. “This is The Gold Residence, they give out...” She trails off as Henry and Roland race back from the large house, prize in hand. 

“Movie Theater sized candy!” Roland exclaims, an entire box of whoppers clutched in his grip, one ear of his fox head hanging the wrong way.

“Wow...” Killian says dumb founded. 

“The guy’s rich and his wife, Belle the librarian loves giving out candy. They always run out pretty quickly though...Be careful of the husband, he’s not nearly as kind as Belle.”  She smiles and continues her introduction on How To Trick or Treat in Storybrooke.

“Marco doesn’t give out the best stuff, but his son August always hangs out in his garage giving the kids the good stuff.” She snickers at that one. “One time, Marco called me in because he thought August was dealing drugs, not Reese’s Pieces.”

That makes Killian laugh. “You certainly know the town pretty well.”

She does, doesn’t she? It hadn’t always been like that. When she came to town, she hated the fact that it was a ‘small town where everyone knew everyone. The rumors, gossip, but there was something homey about it too. Like everyone was talking about you because they cared about you, they warned each other about things they found fishy. A bit like a quirky family.

“I don’t know, it sort of snuck up on me...I wasn’t a small town kind of girl growing up...” She wasn’t an anywhere kind of person growing up.

“Too many happy families?” He assumes. It catches her off guard. She catches his expression and suddenly he knows. “You have that look Swan, the look we all get after being abandoned.”

Perhaps that’s what drew her to him. “Who was it for you?”

He smirks; even if the conversation was nothing to smile about. “My father. Left the day we buried my mother.”

Emma pauses. “My parents abandoned me on the side of the road. Then turned around and kept my brother.” She doesn’t resent her brother, not one bit, but to say that she never forgave her parents was an understatement. “I found this out after Henry was born, I wanted to know where we come from in case anything happened...”

Killian nods in agreement. “My brother tried to get custody of us, but a couple adopted us instead. We didn’t get along too well with the mother, but things did work out in the end… Sometimes things work out in bizarre ways.” 

Emma definitely agrees on that. “Hey Henry!” Emma calls. Her kid looks up. “Why don’t we take them to the Haunted Mansion?”

“Ooooh, Good idea!”

“Haunted Mansion?” Killian repeats. 

“Trust me, you both will love it.”

// 

They did love it, even if the possessed monkeys did freak Roland out a bit.

“Does Henry’s father come to these very often?” Killian says suddenly, scratching behind his neck.

“He’s not a part of our life.” Emma responds automatically. His eyes widen with some sort of understanding.

“Aye. His loss then.” He replies. Emma raises a brow. 

“Aye? Really getting into character aren’t you?” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively in response.

“Absolutely.” She laughs at that.

“Hey Mom, the house on the end has someone new in it.” Henry says, and he’s right, the white manner that had been empty for as long as she could remember had always been empty, a For Sale sign a permanent fixture of the neighborhood. 

Now it was gone, in its place where graves and pumpkins, no less than six various carved pumpkins lines the walkway, bats hung from the arch. She could even see candles burning creepily in the windows.   

“That’s our house.” Roland says. “Mom’s giving out caramel apple slices.” 

Emma exchanges a glance with Henry. 

Definitely not as bad as raisins.

“Can Henry come over?” Roland asks Killian, big puppy dog eyes that would have Emma hesitating. He glances at Emma. 

“Just for a little bit.” She confirms with a smile. “We promised we’d bring Leo a few treats remember.” Henry nods in agreement. It sends the boys running in that direction. It takes a few words with the woman, dressed as an evil witch, before they disappear inside.

“We have a killer apple cider.” Killian says with a mischievous wink. 

Emma’s not to sure what he’s getting at. Was he really inviting her inside to drink in front of his wife? This was getting too weird. 

“Thanks, but technically I’m still on duty.” It was a lie, but it worked. He looks visibly disappointed. Not that she should care. Emma really can’t afford having rumors spread about crushing on the new District Attorney’s husband before the woman even moves into her office.

Not that she’s crushing on Killian.

“At least come in and meet Regina.” He says. “You’ll probably be working with her regardless.” Emma hesitates. “Besides, Henry and Roland are having a good time.”

That gets her, she’d do anything for Henry, even engage in pleasantries with the wife of the guy she did not have a crush on. Maybe just an interest? But not romantic. Not at all.

“Regina, this is Emma, Henry’s mom and the Sheriff.” Killian introduces. She smiles sheepishly. 

She puts out her hand for Regina to shake. Emma’s rather impressed by her dark purple manicure. “Miss Swan.” She says “It seems we’ll be seeing a lot of each other soon.” She opens the door welcoming her inside. The home is...beautiful, white couches, beautiful marble floors, everything as pristine and perfect as possible. It has a forest sort of feel. 

“Killy! Come see how much candy we have!” Roland says as soon as their inside. He grabs his hand and pulls. He looks back at them before he was pulled away into another room by the little Robin Hood.

Regina snickers. “He’s a total sap with him.” Emma nods.

“Roland obviously loves him.” Emma agrees. 

“Cider?” Regina offers. She shakes her head. “Suit yourself.” She says pouring herself a glass. Then she sits on her couch, the woman’s gaze makes her feel nervous. She looks around for something to take the piercing gaze of the lawyer off her. “Are those family pictures?” She says suddenly, noticing the wall of frames in the far side of the room. It makes Regina’s expression soften instantly. 

“Yes, this are when Roland was a baby.” Emma glances over, seeing a much softer version of the woman before her holding a toddler with the same curly hair as the boy she’s met. 

“He looks so precious.” Emma says. Regina picks up another photo.

“This is him with his father starting little league in Boston, it didn’t really stick but they enjoyed it.” Emma sees little Roland in his uniform, it’s red with a shark on it, he’s holding a baseball bat grinning with a man.

A man who is not Killian. “Wait you said that he’s with his father in this picture?” Emma asks. It’s not making sense.

“Yes, my husband Robin. He’s a Marine overseas right now, but his tour ends December.” Emma looks at the photo and then back to the room where Killian disappeared.

“I thought...I thought Killian was your husband?!” she says still too shocked to understand.

“Killian.” Regina repeats. “You thought I’d marry him?” she seems genuinely appalled by the suggestion, but she lets out a laugh regardless. “Killian is my brother, adopted brother, but he’s family regardless. He moved with me when I got the job.” The woman narrows her eyes. Definitely looking like a woman who can read between the lines “But I assure you, he’s absolutely single.”

Oh my God. Emma thinks, face flushed with embarrassment. 

 “Honestly Miss Swan, he was over the moon when he got your text. If you’re going to be the key witness to a majority of my cases, you need to make sure you don’t jump to conclusions. ”

This can not be happening.

“Bloody hell, what did Regina say now?” Killian says coming into the room, chewing on something chocolate, his hook gone in favor of a small box of candy. “Milkdud?” He offers.

“I think I’m going to leave the two of you alone. I need to make sure that Roland isn’t eating too much candy.” Regina announces, giving her a pointed glance. A glance towards Killian.

“What was that about?” Killian asks. “Did she say something mildly offending? You shouldn’t take it personally, she can’t help herself.”

“Yeah, but it’s fine. She’ll warm up to me.” Emma assures him. “I tend to be prickly to most people.” 

“You didn’t seem prickly to me.”

“You don’t strike me as most people.” She responds. “But anyway, I think I have to get going, candy for Leo, plus its technically a school night...” She says trailing off. “Henry! Finish up! It’s time to go.” She calls.

“Of course.” Killian agrees, scratching behind his ear sheepishly. He looks a bit sad by the idea of her leaving. Emma decides, in a spur of the moment decision, to fix that.

Ever so softly, she plants a kiss on his lips, until she feels him lean in and so she ends up grabbing him by the coat jacket, pulling him ever so closer. Killian Jones is a damn good kisser.

He’s wide eyed and surprised when they part. “That was...”

“...Gross.” Henry says, passing right between them. “Let’s go! I have to tell Leo all the stuff he missed!” Henry announces. 

“Right.” Emma agrees, feeling her kid pull her away towards the door. “I get my coffee every morning at 8.” She announces in his direction, smirking. “See you then?” She asks.

“As you wish.” 

//

Killian shows up for coffee that next morning. 

And the morning after that...

The next year, Killian, Robin, David and the three boys bring home the largest pumpkin Emma’s ever seen. 

It takes its place front in center in the new house they bought together. 

[artemismoon12writes]

Title: Five Meetings

Daltonfic Big Bang; Week 2, Day 6- Met as Kids  The First Time the Serendipity Hill Hunters met Dwight, and the first time he met one of them. 

March 3rd, 1995

Dwight was the first person Lucas ever met. Well, the only one that mattered. Great Aunt Ingrid doesn’t count as someone worth meeting. Lucas knew he met Dwight before he could even remember what remembering was. He was smaller, fluffy haired, and was fussy. Lucas’s mother told him he had never been a fussy baby; he even shared his toys! Dwight shared as well, but he made sure his stuff didn’t get broken- keeping a sharp look on it, fascinated with every bright colour and shiny edge, wailing when it was out of sight. Lucas simply marvelled when it was reintroduced. The difference in philosophy made games more, creative.

Picture two babies, too early to even speak, simply throwing rocks at each other until they realized maybe that might hurt. That was Dwight and Lucas.

The two of them seemed to take great pleasure each time they drove an adult up the wall. Agatha and her cousin drove themselves to distraction trying to keep their sons entertained and alive. Mostly, they succeed. Each time the boys found a new hiding spot, the nannies and their mothers searched frantically for the babies. Often times, Lucas led Dwight into fruit baskets, cupboards, and a notable incident where they hid in the washing machine for two hours- giggling and passing a bowl of cheerios.

Their mothers couldn’t help but love them. Their nannies asked for a raise.

September 1st, 2001

Sadie knew lots of people. There was Steven from the grocery store; Yolanda delivered the paper; and Carlson Mackenzie was the security guard at the edge of Serendipity Hill who let them in and out to go to school. Knowing lots of people didn’t mean she could not be fascinated by the boy next to her in St. Ignatius. Mrs. MacPherson sorted boy-girl-boy-girl seating; which got her next to the boy with the pencil case covered in lightning bolt stickers. He looked like the type of boy her mama would pinch sharply, and order to eat three extra empanadas before he fell over in a stiff breeze. What a stiff breeze was, Sadie’s mama would not say.

“I like your stickers Tommy.” Sadie said, treating the boy with a curious look.

“My name’s Dwight.” He said, huffing.

“You’re lying.” She said, pointing. “The name tag on your desk says Thomas.”

“Only my mom is allowed to call me Thomas. I like Dwight better.”

“You can’t just rename yourself!” Sadie said, leaning back scandalised.

“Can too! See?” He said, proudly flipping the pencil case around to show his name in (presumably) his own shaky handwriting. “Besides, it’s my middle name anyways. When we get confirmed I’ll choose an even better third name so no one will ever remember I was a Thomas.”

“Okay then.” She said, contemplating. “I guess that makes sense.”

“What’s your name?” He asked.

“Sadie.” She said, sticking out her hand. “You’re going to tell me where you got those stickers, and then I’m going to find you an even better-even better third name.”

He shook it. They hadn’t learnt about cooties yet, and by the time they did they’d already be friends.

 September 4th, 2004

New neighbourhood, new school, new day. Morgan ran his hand over his freshly shaved hair, no more letters home about ‘inappropriate’ school attire. He didn’t want trouble. If everyone would just leave him alone and let him read he’d be fine, but it was always them who seemed to find things wrong. He didn’t want to play soccer, or football, or four square; he didn’t want to learn about histories of evil people; he didn’t want to sit through liars in front of the chapel, when his grandmother had told him the only reason he was here with the nuns was the other private school was a ‘bad school’- public was even worse. He had to believe they were worse.

Every new grade was more of the same mean kids forcing their mean opinions onto him. Taking his glasses, stealing his books, calling him a nerd. It was tiring. He lost half a binder of rare Digimon cards to that stupidity (if his mom could read his mind….) 

Well, luck would happen that he found someone even more troublesome than him. 

“We’re friends! I was helping her with her sweater!”

“Sister Cathy, he’s telling the truth!”

“Missy, you’ll be thanking me when you’re older. Boys only one thing, and before you know it they’ll have you ruined!” One of the staff had a white- and god was he white- boy by the ear, intent on dragging him away. A darker girl with brown hair stood next to the row of lockers, her school sweater rumpled and backwards. “You’re coming with me to the Chaplin’s office to reflect upon your behaviour!”

The girl looked around, frustrated and angry as the plain-clothesed nun dragged her friend away. Her eyes met Morgan’s; she was asking for help. He sighed. Hopefully this wouldn’t backfire.

“Um, Sister? I saw the whole thing. They’re telling the truth.” Morgan spoke up, raising his hand like he was still in class.

She whirled about. “What?”

Morgan stepped back, looking back to the girl. Her eyes were wide and expectant.

“Um, he was just helping her with her sweater. It’s not anything bad.” He paused. “And I’m not lying about it, because if I was then I’d go to hell right? I don’t want that.”

She paused, releasing her grip on the boy’s ear. She looked between the three of them. “I’ll be keeping my eye on you Thomas Perry.”

The nun stalked off, leaving the girl to sigh in relief. The boy only rubbed his abused ear and mutter, “Dwight! My name is Dwight.”

“Thank you!” The girl said, turning to Morgan. “It means a lot! His mom would kill him if he got sent to the Chaplin on the first day of school.”

“Um no problem.” Morgan said awkwardly, unsure of how to respond as the two of them went right back to pulling at the girl’s sweater. “Uh, was I really lying then?”

The two flushed. “NO!”

She dug up under the sweater, seemingly finding what she was looking for and just tearing the fabric. Her hand reappeared with a safety pin which let the slack back into the sweater. “I put it on wrong when I got it out of my locker and it snagged on the pin. Dwight was helping me without ripping it.”

“But you just ripped it, the ribbon charm only works if it stays pinned.” Dwight complained, leaning back against the lockers.

“We’ll redo it.” She assured him, patting his shoulder. “Hey, new kid what’s your name?”

“Morgan Powell.” He found himself saying. “I just moved into Serendipity Hill this year.”

“Oh no way!” She said excited. “I’m Sadie Moore, this is Dwight Perry. We live in Serendipity Hill as well. You must be the new kid in the old Richards house! I knew I read the cards right last week!”

“Cards?” Morgan asked.

“I’m learning Tarot. I’ll teach you!” She said excitedly. “Do you want to sit at our table at Lunch? We’re planning how to get Dwight’s cousin Lucas to tell us all about if the Grade 6 Class really is haunted by Father Rodriguez’ ghost.”  

Morgan smiled. “I’d like that.” He meant it.

 February 14th, 2011

Laura Bancroft didn’t have time to glare at Dwight Houston; she was worrying about bigger things than a boy who couldn’t even apologize when he ran into her.

“Did you see that?” She hissed, nodding to the pair she’d been following around. Justin said he was one of their new Hanovers. She didn’t trust him. She’d heard rumours about Houston, he had to sense something wrong with the kid.

“Yeah.” Dwight sounded unsure. Not helpful. “Do you know him?”

“Julian Larson, if the talking fangirls are to be trusted.” She zeroed in on her target, hiding behind the table to avoid detection. “That boy over there, he’s Adam. My brother says he’s a Hanover like him.”

“Well don’t you think he’s a little strange, that Adam guy…” Dwight started.

Laura could have cheered. Yes! Excellent! He got it. Dwight glanced back to her, “And I don’t expect you’d understand, coming from Windsor we-”

She cut him off. “You don’t know many Hanovers do you?”

This just might work.

 July 23rd, 2001

“Tommy, sweetie, do you want to hold him?” His mother whispered, holding the bundle in her arms.

Dwight looked at the baby, then back to his mother. “Can I?”

He didn’t know if he could. He was so small. What if he broke him?

“Go on kiddo,” his dad said, patting him on the shoulder. “You’ll be fine. Just support his head…”

Dwight felt nervous. This was his baby brother. Brothers were special, babies were special- especially little ones. They would look up to you, and love you, and everything you did was supposed to make sure they didn’t have a bad life ever.

His father helped his mom reach out, placing the bulky blankets into his arms. She was tired, but Dwight wasn’t. Maybe he could help by holding the baby?

His brother was tiny. He didn’t know anything could be this tiny. He had wide eyes the same colour as Dwight’s. Other than that, he couldn’t see much of the baby, making gurgling noises up at him.

“Hi Alan.” Dwight said solemnly, remembering his dad was there and he expected him to be a big boy. “I’m your brother Thomas. It’s good to meet you.”

“You don’t have to be so serious sweetie.” His mom said, hair stuck to her forehead even as she laughed softly.

“He’s being responsible Agatha, I think it’s precious.” His dad said, sitting on the end of the bed; a fond expression at the group of them.

Dwight held on, not allowing his arms to tire even though Alan was heavier than he looked. “I’ll teach you all the best games, and Luke and I will show you all the best hiding spots, and oh! I’ll never let anyone hurt you ‘cause that’s what big brothers do. They protect their little brothers.”

He pressed a kiss to Alan’s forehead, “I promise.”