#normal people does not talk about being stuck in a freezer with a smile on their face

[nonamelifeisboring]

Obi-Wan through most of his padawanship is like:

Jinn: The mission was a big success.

Obi-Wan: I almost died :D

[fruitcoops]

ok so firstly I love any loops and jules fic but secondly could we have one where jules is having a really tough time (either missing loops/ picked on etc. ) and then we see loops (not coops) surprise him and is just so protective - just sibling fluff that’s it

Oh Jules, I’m sorry I did this to you. What a wonderful prompt, though! I’m always down to write sibling fluff! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

TW for bullying (older kids picking on younger kids)

Contrary to popular belief, Jules didn’t brag about his brother every minute of every day. There was no point, and he wanted to be known for his own talents rather than living in Remus’ shadow for the rest of his life. Unfortunately, some people didn’t seem to understand that.

A balled of lined paper smacked into the back of his head. “Heads up, Loopy!”

Jules threw the ball back; it bounced off the end of the table and hit the ground pathetically. “Nice shot,” Aidan snorted as he passed, bumping his shoulder against Jules’ and making him stumble. Several people laughed. His face burned with embarrassment.

“Yeah, I bet your brother’s really proud of that,” Luke sneered. He was a big kid, far bigger than Jules both in height and muscle even though he was only a couple years older.

“Don’t talk about my brother,” Jules said, much quieter than intended.

Luke raised his eyebrows. “What’re you going do about it, Loopy?”

“Just shut up.”

“Who’s gonna stop me?” He leaned across the cafeteria table and Jules fought the urge to back away. “Huh? Your brother? He’s never around.”

“He’s busy.”

“He doesn’t want to be here.”

“He does,” Jules insisted, feeling his throat tighten. “He does, he just doesn’t have time—”

“He’s a celebrity, dude, no wonder he doesn’t want his tagalong brother around.”

It’s not true, Jules told himself. It’s not true. Time and time again, Remus had told him that hockey came second to family, but after months of not seeing him it was starting to feel false. “Shut up.”

Luke shifted in his seat and folded his hands. “Face it, Loopy: your brother’s not around because he’d rather spend time with his cool friends than an annoying little kid.”

“Leave me alone.” Jules’ voice cracked and Luke grinned.

“You’re gonna cry?” he asked, full of false sympathy. “Aw, poor baby.”

“It’s not true.” It was getting harder to believe the words. “He visits whenever he can.”

The lunch bell rang before Luke could retaliate; he ruffled Jules’ hair too hard to be comfortable and left, already laughing with his group of friends. What a dick, Jules thought as he swallowed down the tears.

He made it through the rest of his classes in a daze and walked home on muscle memory. It was a cold day for April, but maybe he could blame his red-rimmed eyes on the wind. Maybe Luke is right, part of him argued. There wasn’t a lot of evidence, but it was enough to make him want to throw up.

“Hey, baby, how was your day?” his mother called when he opened the door.

That was the tipping point, the tiny pebble that shattered the cracked glass dam holding back his tears. Jules sobbed once, dropped his backpack on the floor, and ran for the safety of his bedroom. “Jules—” The slam of his door cut his father’s concern short.

He grabbed the family picture off his wall and threw it across the room—there was no glass or frame, only tape, so seeing it flutter to the ground was far less satisfying than he had hoped. Remus had him on his shoulders for the picture; they all looked so happy. Jules sat down on the other side of his bed and buried his face in his arms, letting the emotions he had been holding in for three full hours flood out.

Deep down, he knew Luke was a liar and a bully with nothing better to do than pick on younger kids. That didn’t mean his words hurt any less.

A few minutes later, there was a gentle knock on the door. “Go away!”

There was a brief pause, then another knock.

“Just—just please give me a minute, mom!”

“I’m not mom.” Jules’ heart skipped a beat. “Can I come in?”

You’ve never been around to help me before. Anger reared up in his chest. “No!”

Remus hesitated for a moment. Jules hoped he was shocked, stunned, hurt. “Okay.”

There was a rustling noise; he looked around the foot of the bed to see a shadow in the crack beneath the door. “Are you—what are you doing?”

“Sitting down.”

“Go away.”

“No.”

“Mom, make him go away!”

“What did I do, Jules?” Remus sounded sad. There was none of his usual teasing in his tone. The anger twisted around in Jules and he scrubbed at the tears and snot on his face.

“When did you get here?” He knew he was being rude; his mother would have given him a pursed-lips look if he talked like that to anyone normally.

“A couple hours ago. It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“It’s a terrible surprise. Go away.”

“Not until you tell me what I did.”

Jules took a few shallow breaths before answering. “You’re never here. Never.”

“I know. I’m s—”

“I hate you,” he sobbed, bringing his knees tighter to his chest. “I hate you so much.”

There was a long stretch of silence on the other side of the door, but the shadow remained. “That’s fair,” Remus said quietly.

“No, it’s not!” Jules clambered to his feet and stomped over to the door, wrenching it open. “It’s not fair! I shouldn’t hate you, this is your job! You should—you should—”

Remus looked up at him from his crosslegged seat on the carpet. “I should what?”

“You should yell at me. Or make me open the door, or do anything that makes me angry at you.” He sniffled and hugged himself.

“When have I ever yelled at you?”

“The rat. And the water balloons. And when I stole your sticks. And when I froze your underwear.”

Remus winced slightly. “Fair point. I don’t keep yelling once you’re in the room, though, right?”

Jules deflated. “No.”

“So I’m not going to yell at you. Also, your bedroom smells weird, so I don’t want to go in there unless I have to.”

A smile tried forcing its way out and Jules covered it with his best scowl. “My room doesn’t smell weird.”

Remus sniffed the air, then shrugged. “Whatever you say.”

“Why are you here?”

“Mom said she was getting ice cream.”

Jules perked up. “Did she?”

“No.” Remus held up the car keys. “We can fix that problem, though. Go get your shoes.”

“Can I drive?’

“If you can convince dad, sure.” Remus stood up and mussed his hair; his hand was gentle, though, unlike Luke’s. It was a welcome change.

He grabbed his sneakers from under his bed and hopped down the hall as he pulled them on. “Dad, can I drive?”

His father didn’t even look up from the paper. “When Hell freezes over, buddy.”

“Lyall,” his mother scolded from the kitchen, though her eyes crinkled at the edges. “Remus, remember not to swear around your brother!”

“I won’t, I won’t,” he said, holding the door open for Jules as he shrugged his coat on.

They drove in relative silence, save for the Top Rock Hits of the Eighties cassette that they had each heard half a billion times. Remus pulled into the Dairy Queen drive-thru and rattled off Jules’ favorite without even having to ask. Somehow, that both soothed him and upset him even more. He handed the cone over carefully, stuck his blizzard in the cupholder, and started driving in the opposite direction of the house.

“Are you kidnapping me?” Jules asked, licking a stray drip of vanilla off the cone.

“I don’t think I can, seeing as we’re related.”

“You can. You don’t have custody.”

“Why do you know that?”

“Why don’t you, Mr. Fancy Degree?”

“This might surprise you, but they don’t exactly cover the intricacies of kidnapping in PT school.”

“Shame.”

Remus made a noise of agreement around the straw of his Blizzard as they rolled to a stop at the red light. “So, are we going to talk?”

“We already are.”

“Dude.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Yeah, I figured.” He made a face when a chunk of Oreo got stuck the straw. “If you get that out before the next light, you can have a sip.”

Jules took it and squeezed the thin plastic. “Luke Sanders is an asshole.”

“Language.” The car stopped again and Jules showed off the unblocked straw. “Do continue, though.”

“You’ve hit every red light since we left the house. That’s got to be a curse.” He took a long sip, then handed it across the console. “You like hanging out with me, right?”

“Obviously. You’re, like, my favorite person.” Remus gave him a confused look.

“Okay, cool.” Jules felt his hands start to shake again, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t from his ice cream. Just hearing him say that made a tsunami of relief run through him. “Cool.”

“Did Luke Sanders tell you I didn’t?”

“He said a lot of stuff.”

Remus pulled into a parking lot, then took the key out and turned in his seat. “Like what?”

Jules shrugged one shoulder. “That you don’t want to be here.”

“And?” His voice had softened.

“And that it’s my fault, since I’m an annoying little tagalong.” Jules picked at the paper wrapper around his cone and didn’t look up. “He’s got a p—”

“If you say he’s got a point, all your underwear is going in the freezer.” All traces of gentleness were gone from his tone, leaving tightly-controlled fury in its place.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t—” Remus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t apologize, Jules.”

“You’re upset.”

“Yeah, because some little shit was picking on my brother and I wasn’t there to kick his ass.”

“I can handle it.”

If anything, that seemed to upset him even more. “Does this happen a lot?”

“Sometimes.”

“Have you told anyone?”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to be a tattletale.”

“Jules, there’s a difference between being a tattletale and reporting a bully.” Remus tipped his chin up. “Hey, what’s going on?”

Jules’ lower lip wobbled. “I missed you. I always miss you, but he’s been really awful recently and he keeps saying the same stupid stuff over and over.”

Remus’ nose and cheeks reddened. “I missed you, too. If I could be here all the time, I would.”

“I know it’s not your fault, and I know you’re busy.” He wiped away another tear and tried to pull himself together. “But it’s not fair.”

“It’s not,” Remus agreed. “It’s not fair that I’m gone nine months out of the year, and it’s not right that people are making fun of you for it. Hang on for a second, okay?”

Jules nodded, still drying his cheeks. Remus got out of the car and jogged to the other side, then opened the passenger door and gestured for him to get out; as soon as his sneakers touched the ground, he was lifted almost a foot into the air. “I’m sorry for yelling,” he managed, burying his face in his brother’s neck.

Remus kissed the side of his head and held him close. “I’m sorry I’m not around more.”

He hooked his chin over Remus’ shoulder. “Can you promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“Will you be here whenever you can? I know that might not be often, but just…when you can.”

He felt Remus’ chest hitch against him. “Always,” he whispered. “Always.”

[p0gue420]

!Too Young To Feel Numb! (Kie x Reader)

ATTENTION!! There are a lot of trigger warnings in this one! Including: drinking, drugs, talks of feeling alone, depression.

Summary: Y/n started smoking weed at the age of 8, It’s all she’d known; She grew up around it so it was normal for her to start super young, she told herself that’s the farthest she’d go...only smoking weed..never any hard drugs. She thought she could learn from her parent's mistakes, guess not. 

pairing: Kie x female!reader, Rafe x Platonic! reader, JJ x Sister figure! reader

Warnings: Substance abuse, depression, suicidal thoughts, marijuana Underage drinking,(reader is 15),

A/N: Alot of grammar errors because i dont feel like checking it so sorry....not really,hehe

---------

I use to think people were crazy for even thinking about doing anything harder than weed. Yeah...I was like 7 so it doesn’t count.”Yo you gonna babysit that shit or pass it, I mean...I have all day but  would love to do something besides wait for you to pass the blunt.” I rolled my eyes waiting for JJ to hand it to me.”Chill, what’s up your ass today?”

He finally passes it, after what felt like hours. I take a long hit before seeing he’s actually wanting me to answer his question.”Nothin. man, I’ve just got places to be.” I mumbled out hoping he wouldn’t start asking any further questions. He stares blankly awaiting me to pass it back, knowing I don’t share my feelings so he simply lays off. “Hey. You trynna go surfing today….whenever you’re done with your….things..?”

“Uhh, yeah text me and-” I’m cut off by the sound of my phone vibrating...Barry.

Barry:

Meet in twenty? I got extra today

I look up from my phone stuttering my words, and fumbling.“Uhm, I gotta go do something, but I’ll text you later to surf, yeah?” I say nodding towards JJ as I began walking out.”Uhm yea sure, hey-” I was already out the door.”-be safe.” he muttered to himself left wondering why I left so fast. On the way to my bike, I ran into Kie and Pope laughing about something before Kie began to make her way over towards me.

“Hey, Y/n! Heading out so fast, are we?”Kie pouted her lip out mimicking a whimpering sound.” heh, yeah sorry bub. I gotta go handle some things and I’ll be back later.” I peck her lips in a swift movement as well as pull up the front of her crop top, covering her exposed cleavage.”Those are my love,keep them covered” I wink at her. She laughs and heads inside after blowing me a kiss,that I catch and pretend to place in my heart..Wow im so whipped.

My thoughts cut off by a loud vibrating noise.

Barry:

You coming?

Read: 46 sec.ago

Me:

Omw now!

Read: just now

I hop on my bike heading over to Barry’s place knowing a shortcut I found a few days ago.

It only takes 10 minutes before i’m in front of his house walking up the steps of the porch.My clean oxygen is immediately replaced by the smell of cigarettes,weed,and...Is that burnt hair?I scrunch my face in disgust at the awful smells.”Aye look who it is!” Barry calls out after seeing my face, He’s standing beside..Rafe cameron.

Now...I’m not friends with Rafe but i also don’t exactly despise him.I babysat wheezie all summer last year,most the time he’d join..keep me company;I don’t think he knew i was with Kie but he’s not all bad.He’s helped me more times than I can count,only because i've done the same for him though.

“Yo waddup.I didn’t expect to see you here.” I share a short handshake with Barry and side hug Rafe,he seems unprepared for it so he stumbles a bit but eventually hugs back quickly.”uh yeah.just doing some..business” Rafe says avoiding eye contact,looking everywhere except my face.”anyway i'm gonna head out, i'll catch you guys later.” Rafe walks towards,im guessing his bike;I head inside following barry so i didn’t really catch what he drove in.

“So like I said I've got your usual ,and then I got a little extra something I thought you may like.”He continues on but I'm so wrapped up in the fact that I want to consume something soon,anything;I don’t know exactly what he's saying.”Sound good?” He asked “Uh what?sorry I zoned out a bit.”I shook my head pushing my long hair out of my eyes.”Look,Usually altogether this would be alot of money but considering I stole the pills,I'll spare you the oxy,wadda yuh say?”, “Yeah sure,80$?”

He nods his head holding his hand out as i hand him the money.He hands you a bag full of coke in a plastic baggy, along with the pills in its original container it was prescribed. “Ight,thanks man.Ill see you later next week!” I wave goodbye as I show myself out, shoving the ‘things’ I had bought into my bag and swinging it back on my back.

~Incoming call from:Bubbs<3

I instantly pick up not wanting to worry her.

I instantly hear the boys laughing and playing in the background,but wait for her to say something.”Hey baby, you heading back yet?” Kie questioned sounding bored of the childish boys we spend our time with.”Not yet,i promise im almost done,ask the boys if there's drinks at the chateau please.”She turns her head away from the boys asking what there is to drink besides sink water.

I hear a chorus of “We just stocked up”,”All good momma bird.” and other sayings coming from the overly hyper boys.”Did you hear that,or need me to repeat?” She hesitantly says, making sure I’m still listening ”Gotcha,I'm headed your way now,see you there” I say quickly hanging up without giving her time to respond.

I hop on my bike and drive towards…...the opposite of the chateau,instead deciding to go to the Camerons.I drive,stuck in thought of what ill do when i get there,not quite sure why i decided to come.I had been so lost in thought I didn’t realise I was suddenly at the Cameron residence. I park my bike and began walking up to the door,but before I can knock,Rafe walks up behind me.

“Y/n?” I swiftly turn around being scared for a minute before realizing who it was.”Oh!uhm. yeah...hey” I ‘smoothly’ say”what are you doing here?” he asks..The whole conversation was a blur and before I knew it I was walking up to his room to hang out.I sit on the bed laying back asking about what he wants to do.”I don't know,you came here,what'd you have in mind?” He asked curiously.”I'm not sure.” I snorted at my inability to maintain a conversation.

I dig into my bag as he starts up about how he broke his bed frame the other day, because he put too many boxes on the bed while getting rid of some old things. I finally found what I was looking for,the baggy of white powder.I lifted it up smiling widely.”Can I do this here or no?”I question,feeling my body begin to sweat at the thought of getting to snort the white powder.

“Uh,I mean.. yea sure,didn't know you did that kind of thing.. but I mean go ahead.” He rambles. He stares into space as I do a few lines, my eyes opening wide at the sensation of sudden adrenaline;I look over to see him trying not to stare.”Oh my bad,You want some?” I ask holding up the dollar folded into a cylinder shape , gesturing to the lines of coke spread on the dresser.

---

Hours go by,giggling,cracking jokes with rafe as well as doing oxy and maybe overdoing it with the coke seeing as the bag was almost gone.Rafe hasn't done much.I on the other hand was feeling VERY shaky and everything was just so hilarious..until it wasnt.My high started to get bad and overall scary.I must've did too much in such a limited amount of time.I look at my phone .

17 missed calls from Bubbs<3

8 missed calls from John B:)

9 missed calls from Popey boi

11 missed calls from JJ

Incoming call from Bubbs<3

“He-h-hello ,hi,hey.”

“DON'T ‘HI’ ME!” Kie instantly began screaming into the phone making me move my face away from it as Rafe looked at me with a worried expression on his face.

“Y/n,Where have you been! I’ve been so worried! I’ve-” I Blanked out again not in the mood to be yelled at.”Yeah,hey I nee-need,will-can youcomeandpickme up” I say jumbling all my words together. “Are you okay?Why are you talking like that?''She ask worried about my state of mind.

“Yeah am- I fine,Yes” I say yet again struggling to sound normal. I guess I was on speaker because JJ immediately began yelling into the phone asking about where I was.”Rafes house” Rafe sat silently waiting for them to break out into hysterics about me being with him.The phone went silent for a moment before the call ended.”So does that mean they not-....Vodka” was all i said before heading downstairs Rafe was sober enough to be able to notice what i was doing.I quickly went downstair searching through the freezer.

“Yessss.”I exclaimed before chugging the vodka.”Rafe continuously asking me to give him the bottle.I chugg at least half the pint bottle before having to give it up because Sarah comes down the stairs.”Y/n what're you doing here?” She asks excitedly until she saw me tripping over my own feet walking towards her,”Woah!” she caught me just before I hit the floor.

She turned to the door hearing someone pull up.Kie.”Rafe what did you do to her?” Sarah asked, holding me up scared of how out of it I was.”SHE BROUGHT COKE HERE,i did a bit with her, but she did A LOT. I legit did nothing this time I swear on everything!”He trailed back up the stairs not caring about the situation now that Sarah was there to take care of you. 

I began to sweat, tears running down my face. scared of what's happening to me.John b and Kie rush through the front doors asking where I am.”IN HERE GUYS!” Sarah screamed for them to hear her.My eyes rolling to the back of my head as I went in and out of consciousness.

“BABYYYY!!!” i exclaimed making grabby hands at Kie as i started crying harder

Sarah helped me stand up shakingly as I tried to walk to my girlfriend,She came running towards me with a concerned look on her face. She grabs my face pecking my lips,”Bub. I need you to listen to me, okay?” I nodd in awe of the gorgeous girl in front of me.”John B is gonna take you to the van,we need you to tell us everything you took to get in this state, okay?” I drowsily  nodded,growing tired.

Just as she said,the tall boy picked me up bridal style carrying me out to the twinkie.

I take notice to seating arrangement so i can close my eyes and know whos talking ,JJ being in the passenger seat,Pope watching From the bench behind the driver's seat.Kie stepped up into the van sitting on the floor of the vehicle waiting for John B to place me down beside her.As he did I sat up enough to lean my back against her chest.

JJ was surprisingly silent.Too silent.Pope looked so worried at my sweating body and dripping wet hair from  sweat,tears,and vodka mixture.”Okay,Y/n,What did you take?” my girlfriend sits grabbing my face turning me to face her, my legs straddling her thighs on the floor as I nuzzle my head into the crook of her neck,but she pushes my head up making me pout but not being able to maintain due to the dizziness. “I took a few oxy,uhm when I -then i did a few lines of coke,and…..i chugged half a pint of vodka..” i said tears filling my eyes trying to not look into anyone's eyes,

Silent JJ was no more .”Are you fucking kidding me.Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n.You’re not supposed to take oxy and drink alcohol together.much less do oxy or coke at all.ARE YOU DUMB!” JJ began turning around. A Quiet ‘im sorry’ came from my mouth.John B finally pulled into the chateau.

Kie carried me while my face stayed nuzzled in her neck still crying due to my,still,VERY high state.she sat me down on the couch out on the porch as everyone except her,went to get a few things.Pope came back with water and a wet rag to place on my head.JJ brought a blanket,John B came back empty handed because he only went inside to pee.

“Kie?” I whispered scared she was mad.”Yes baby?” 

“Are you mad at me?” I questioned hiding my face in her shoulder due to the amount of dizziness being insured. She leaned her head on mine with an unknown amount of emotions,not quite sure of how to fully answer. “No I- I just don’t know what you were thinking I just- Well I figured you wouldn’t ever do anything like this considering what we talked about-and -and what you went through with your parents..” 

“I know-I wanted to feel better tho..I just feel like i have no one-”

Shortly realising the guys were still in on the conversation as Pope cut in.

“Y/n, you have,and always will have us..” I lift my head from the girls shoulder  before slowly looking at Pope in his sad worried eyes.

“I guess, I like-I dont know guys what you want me to say..Im trying to be better for myself for everybody,but nothing was working and i ran into barry one day and we talked and he offered a way to help,of course i was hesitant but its really not that bad...Im actually fine!” I said standing up as John b followed me.

“y/n, you were just saying you need help,so what the fuck are we supposed to do ,one minute you need help and having to be ushered here so you dont die! And-and-the next thing you’re yelling at us about how your fine,you’re not fine and you know it!” I stopped as I watched the long haired boy fight back tears trying to explain how all of them feel.

“Fuck you guys honestly,Im not a child i know how i feel,this is all just bullshit!” I yelled at them all, I ran to the spare bedroom covered in sweat,tears,and vodka; I slowly sink into the bed as tears fall down my face crying myself to sleep,what i didn’t know was that my bestfriend’s and girlfriend were all huddled up outside the door awaiting me to fall asleep so that they could come in and cuddle me to make me feel better.Sometimes things get better, but i dont think this is one of those times atleast for now anyway..

[pondermoniums]

A little post season 3 ficlet (2749 words) featuring some holiday fluff <3 See tags or read on ao3 here ~

• • • •

Billy still feels it. He wishes his muscle memory had died with him, but it just came back with him too.

The things he felt.

The things It felt.

Everything It made him do.

His psychiatrist tries to tell him that his scars are his body claiming his soul back. Billy couldn’t agree. He didn’t like touching the starbursts on his torso because the shiny scar flesh felt tissue-paper thin—not to his fingertips, but underneath. His heart trembled as if he could just push a little too hard, and enter his ribs—

“Hey, the new place opened up off Main Street. You know those new roads they’re building? There’s already a Greek place there. Let’s get a menu.”

Billy frowned at him. Steve Harrington. He’d been at the mall. Billy didn’t remember seeing him…during…but afterward. In the spotty shreds of memory that were all his own, he remembered Steve looking nearly as bad as he felt. The memories swirled together like a circus dream. Steve and…Robin. Her name is Robin…in striped costumes. Steve carried Max away from his body. Robin practically did the same for the girl with a number for a name. All of them glowed with Starcourt neon pink and purple and red.

Steve’s car hummed around them, and fell silent when he turned onto the fresh asphalt of Hawkins’ new road. Steve laughed a little. “Farmer Higgins is probably still fuming. Last thing the mayor did before he got booted out of here was steal land for these businesses.”

“What’s it matter?” Billy exhaled. There were less people in Hawkins to fuel the shady economy anyway.

“Well I can’t speak for your Camaro, but my car doesn’t last long, driving brodies with trees in the way.”

His little sapphire. A dark mixture of humor and apathy seeped into his blood at the memory of Steve Harrington, of all people, slamming into him. He didn’t do it hard enough.

Now he sat in the car Steve drove. Not because the Camaro couldn’t be fixed, but because Billy wasn’t fit to drive yet. Maybe there was something full-circle about it. Or a broken circle; an open-ended thing, like Billy.

“As if you could do a brody.”

Steve smirked. “Thankfully I’ve ruined enough fields for practice.”

And then he pulled right off the road, slipped through a tiny thicket of trees framing the road, and burst upon a dry, yellow field. He turned sharply, throwing Billy against him…until the car locked into a paradox of calm and chaos. The back wheels revolved around them to dig a doughnut in the earth. Steve let the wheel go, and they rocked as the car jerked with the front tires straightening.

Steve looked around them to find the road again and made a mock sound of getting sick. “Glad we didn’t eat first.”

He grinned at Billy, making him realize a smile had stuck on his face like a cramped muscle. He pushed a hand over his mouth, physically melting it off.

The food was good. The flavors shoved their way over his pallet. It was kind of hard to enjoy food now. He ate when his body needed it but he didn’t get the emotional reaction to it—

“I didn’t know we had Greeks in Hawkins,” Steve conversed openly. A small, lost part of Billy remembered Steve calling him out for being mouthy during basketball, but Steve could talk. He wiped his mouth and dug back into his rice plate. “Then again, Robin and Dustin always have something to say about authenticity. Like you spend a day outside of Indiana and you’re worldly.”

“Did you forget where I’m from?” Billy spoke before he meant to. California didn’t seem to matter much any—

“Did you?” Steve tossed back.

Silence fell over their booth while Steve waited. Then he went back to his food when Billy clearly didn’t care about responding.

Over and over again.

Steve picked Billy up.

Hospital.

Food.

Back to Cherry Lane.

Steve talked. Sometimes Billy replied.

Then things began to change. Steve took Billy to the grocery store after Billy’s therapy. Billy had emerged ruddy-eyed liked he smoked a pound of weed, and Steve had merely said, “I’m feeling tacos.”

Only instead of a restaurant, he took them to the store. And then the Harrington house. Billy talked more there.

“No, no, it’s queso fresco.”

“It’s just cheese, though?”

“Jesus, it’s like I’m the one who grew up with farmers. Different rain waters different grass. That makes different cows, which make different milk. Do you know anything about breweries?”

“Do you?” Steve challenged while they made a mess of his kitchen counter. Crumbles of white cheese, lettuce, and other tacos toppings littered the fancy granite.

“I know that breweries stay put. Because the water’s different. They have to have the right water to make the right beer. I haven’t had my favorite lager since I moved here.”

“What’s it taste like?”

Billy told him. Billy told him a lot of things. Steve just…got a rise out of him the way his therapist couldn’t. Then again, Steve never asked about all the things Billy wanted to burn out of his brain.

Then Cherry Lane fell off the list. Billy couldn’t say how exactly he moved into Harrington’s house. Maybe the food flowed into Billy falling asleep, and starting the next day from Steve’s house just happened too many times. Maybe Max used Steve’s pool too many times. Maybe it was when Billy realized Steve wasn’t just driving him to his physical and mental therapy sessions.

He walked out of the physical therapy gym at the back of the hospital to meet Steve in the same lobby they parted ways in. But Steve wasn’t there. Billy asked the nearby receptionist if “the guy with the hair” had gotten lost to the bathroom, but she only replied, “He’s running a little overtime, but he should be on his way.”

Billy’s appointments took hours. It made sense for Steve to leave and come back—

But the elevator dinged, and Steve was too busy reading something to not walk into a passing nurse. “Oh! Ow—sorry! Sorry,” he exclaimed, holding his arm…

He rolled the shoulder of that arm on the way through the parking lot, swinging the arm round and around like he was warming up for tennis. Inside the car, Billy cornered, “What were you doing in there?”

Steve glanced at him but shrugged as he turned the ignition. “Blood work. An IV drip. MRI’s. My usual stuff. The drip took longer this time.”

“Usual stuff? How come I’m just now hearing of this?”

“Remember, Robin used to meet us here? She got cleared faster.”

“Cleared out of what? How are you more broken than she was?”

Steve stared at him for an unnerving minute. “They…kind of beat the shit out of me. So… I mean, you pack a wallop, but Russians with an agenda put you to shame.”

Billy suddenly wondered if he’d overstepped a boundary. Steve just talked so much, and took whatever Billy gave him without flinching that he never considered…

“Getting concussed and doped up with unknown chemicals isn’t everyone’s normal Thursday.”

Billy had forgotten that Steve had been through shit like this before. Not with the same variables, but… “I forget that your normal got thrown out the window before I got here.”

“It’s not a competition,” Steve tried to say lightly. He waved a hand in front of the vents as if their lingering in the parking lot was just to wait for the heating to kick on.

“And if it is, who’d win?”

“Oh, I think Will Byers has us beat.”

That…hit differently than Billy expected. A laugh burst out of him, like it had just been waiting for a weight to lift off of him to break free. “Yeah. Maybe he does.”

Then they went to Steve’s house, where more and more of Billy’s clothes had accumulated. The kitchen had been stocked with food bought from Steve’s wage and Billy’s top-secret government allowance—which turns out, was rather high. Steve, for all his fancy furniture and basically bottomless bank account thanks to his parents, had to pick his jaw up off the floor when Billy finally revealed the monthly check to him.

“Holy shit. Don’t let the nerds see that; they’ll siphon quarters out of you for the arcade.”

“They’re old enough to want beer and condoms.”

Steve scoffed as he flipped their dinner pancakes. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think they’ll sooner pop their cherries than go for beer.” Then he grimaced and waved his spatula. “New subject! Change the subject.”

Billy laughed from the breakfast bar, where he was arranging his medication into a days-of-the-week organizer. It was just a bar of little snap-closed boxes, but it helped him keep track of the pills he took—and the ones he ignored.

Steve had asked him once, “Why do you always leave the red ones?”

“They turn me into a vegetable.”

“Oh. You can’t, like…split it in half? Half vegetable?”

Billy couldn’t say why he felt comforted by Steve’s uniquely clueless way of thinking. Perhaps the guy actually made sense, or maybe he just over-simplified things in an over-complicated world.

Now, though, he set the spatula down with the announcement, “Oh! I got you something. Well, I hope I got the right stuff.”

Billy didn’t go with him to the garage, but he did follow Steve with his eyes. Blue irises locked onto the shockingly familiar box of lager when Steve returned. “Where in the hell did you find that?”

That dopey, thrilled grin made Steve glow like the Christmas lights they’d thrown all over the open floor plan. “Dude, there are professional shoppers! I mean, that makes each can like…a twenty-dollar beer, and this is the only box I got, but this is the stuff you were talking about, right? The lady on the phone said they released other flavors, but you only said ‘lager,’ so it’s what I got.”

The cans were practically frozen from being in the garage, but Billy tore open the box as well as he could to pry one out. “I don’t think I’ve been given the okay for alcohol.”

“We can water it down.”

“You don’t water down beer!”

“Then split one with me. I’ve chilled glasses somewhere…”

He went digging in the freezer drawer and pulled out plastic wine glasses. Billy snorted as he accepted one. “This is so cheap.”

“Yeah well, even mom’s fancy bimbo friends break wine stems around the pool. Gimme that.”

Billy appreciated that Steve made it sound greedy, instead of pitiful. Billy had trouble with his hands.

The can snapped open with a satisfying metallic crack. Billy teased as Steve poured, “Is this your first rodeo? Look at all that foam.”

“We’ve got time. The pancakes are almost done.”

Billy pushed his pill organizer aside to rest his chin on his arms, listening to carbonation sizzle while he watched Steve’s shoulder blades move under his sweatshirt.

“When do you get cleared for pot?”

Billy rolled his eyes. “I don’t think I’ll ever be officially cleared for that—hey, hey!”

Steve had turned around, leaning back against the counter with a pancake in his hand and a full cheek. “Whuh?”

“You’re eating my dinner! Dump the skillet over a plate and get over here!”

Steve came around to sit on the stool next to him with a pancake in his mouth and—

“Are those my slippers?”

“You mean my slippers that I hadn’t worn yet? Yeah, I took them back,” Steve retorted.

Billy successfully knocked one off his foot. “They still had the tags when I got to them. So dibs.”

Steve kicked the other slipper into the living room. “No dibs if you don’t have both.”

“You’re wearing my sweatpants. I get your slippers.”

“I get your beer and you get my pancakes.”

“Not if you eat all of them! Syrup, now,” Billy demanded with a grabby hand gesture.

Steve disintegrated into giggles that made him sound as much like a little kid as movie heartthrob. He finished pouring and passed the bottle.

So it went. Back and forth. Back and forth.

First Steve took Billy’s time. The minutes that built into hours driving to and from the hospital. Then Billy ate his food. Steve covered the restaurant tabs until they switched to cooking at his house. Steve washed his clothes and wore them like his own. Billy took Steve’s car keys and drove for the first time with Steve practically hostage all the way to the tree farm.

“I didn’t take you for a real tree kind of person.”

“You have the ceiling space for a nine-foot tree.”

“How the hell are we hauling a nine-foot tree?” Steve practically blanched. “And with what car?” He adjusted his earmuffs because he’d rather be caught dead than wear a proper hat. Billy, meanwhile, strolled through the greenery and the first snowflakes spitting from the sky with leisurely ease in his beanie.

He laughed, “I like how you’re not saying no.”

Steve didn’t do much to hide his mimicry as he trudged behind Billy, who chuckled to himself. “For once it actually smells nice. The trees really cover up the cow shit of—oh my god, there are actual cows.”

A line of tables displayed other living decorations like wreaths and garlands, but beyond them was a field of black and red cattle. Billy moved under a line of wreaths hanging over their heads to see how they actually had blankets on their backs. “Are the cow jackets norm—”

Steve caught his mouth in a quick, firm kiss. The sound of their lips parting echoed in Billy’s ears. Steve’s fingers lifted off his jaw to touch something noisy above their heads. Billy dumbly looked up to see the tiny bells interwoven with a mistletoe wreath. “Careful. We have real mistletoe here. Not whatever plastic California has.”

He left Billy stupefied, having the audacity to stroll away with a whistle on his lips before Billy snapped out of it and nearly tackled him. “OW! Agh, fu-shit, Jesus—”

“You’re better about planting your feet,” Billy breathed against Steve’s earmuff. He held Steve’s arms trapped against his body.

“Are you always this mean when someone kisses you?” he strained in Billy’s tight grip. The gravel under their boots grit and rattled as Billy dragged Steve deeper into the trees. “Alright! I should’ve asked! I’m sorry—”

Steve might’ve stolen the first kiss, but Billy shoved him into a tree and took it back. He took Steve’s cold shock against his lips, until hot breath warmed them up between nervous stares. Then Billy took his lips, his tongue, the taste of the mint brownies Steve ate on the way here. The cold tip of Steve’s nose pushed into his cheek, and Billy’s heart felt fragile against the softness of Steve’s mouth.

His breath trembled as he asked, “Why did you do that?”

Why do you give me rides? Give me food? Why do you cook every night? Why did you give me a bedroom? Will you let me into yours?

Steve’s arms around his waist moved, tightening a little but also moving up Billy’s spine as if to comfort him. To anchor them together. Steve swallowed, and the fragility in his eyes made Billy’s throat hurt. “I didn’t get to the first time.”

Billy couldn’t stand it. He pushed Steve’s earmuffs off in his effort to press his face against Steve’s neck. To absorb the delicious little sound that escaped him when Billy’s cold nose found the warm pocket inside his collar.

Billy didn’t think he’d be able to kiss anyone ever again.

Not after…

But all he wanted was to keep Steve’s lips on him. To steal him away like some fairytale winter troll and either keep him or devour him if he tried to leave.

“Billy?” His name was muffled against his own scarf, so tightly did Steve hold onto him.

But if Steve was taking…maybe Billy could let himself be stolen again.

“When we’re home…” he sniffled on his way back up to standing on his own. “Kiss me again.”

“Can I kiss you now?”

Billy laughed through his tears. “No, you’re buying me the biggest tree your car can carry. And I’ll steal that wreath while they’re distracted.”

“You have the money to buy it!”

“That’s no fun.”

[howlingday]

Cinder: (Tied up) Try whatever you like. You won't break me.

Penny: Please, friend Cinder! We are trying to help! Just tell us what you know about Salem and we can go back to being friends!

Cinder: As if I'd ever want to be friends with a talking toaster and the world's whiniest sandbag.

Jaune: You should probably listen to her, Cinder. Salem is dangerous. WAY too dangerous. Any info you have could give us an edge.

Cinder: I only want two things. Power and your red-cloaked girlfriend's head on a stick. Simple, right?

Jaune: Not gonna happen, Cinder. You're too dangerous to be left alone, and there's no way in hell I'll let you hurt Ruby.

Cinder: Right, because you have such a great track record with girlfriends. (Jaune flinches) What was your last one's name? Oh, right! Pyrrha Nikos, the Champion of Mistral, Miss Untouchable herself. Where were you in her last fight? (Jaune's grip tightens, his knuckles white and his palms bleed from his fingers cutting into them) Would you like to know her last words?

Jaune: (Gritted teeth) Penny. Leave. I'll come get you.

Penny: But-!

Jaune: NOW. (Penny leaves) Talk.

Cinder: (Smiles) It was, "Do you believe in destiny?" (Chuckles) I told her yes, and then I shot an arrow into her chest. Oh, if only you could hear her gasping, looking so weak and frightened! (Sighs) But that does beg the question: where were you? You were her partner; her best friend, her lover, and yet you abandoned her and failed to rescue her in her hour of need. You're no hero. You're just a coward. (Jaune walks behind her to the glass "mirror") Talking to your other friends? Don't worry: they're next.

Jaune: Do it. (Turns around and places his hands on Cinder's shoulders)

Cinder: A massage? How unorthodox! What would Ruby think? What would Pyrrha think?

Jaune: I hate you. With every fiber of my being, I hate you. I hate how you just take what you want without thinking of others. I hate how you bully and manipulate people into doing what you want. But most of all, I hate what you've done to me.

Cinder: Honestly, boy. Flattery will get you-

Jaune: That's why I'm happy.

Cinder: (Confused) Happy? Why? (Thinking) Did it suddenly get colder?

Jaune: Yeah, I'm happy. I'm happy because Ruby isn't here and that Pyrrha can't see it.

Cinder: See what? (Thinking) It feels like I'm in a freezer right now!

Jaune: See this. You can feel it, can't you? The temperature dropping. But it isn't. It's staying at about chill on a thermostat right now. But for you, it's probably like we stuck you in a meat locker. And it's getting colder. Colder and colder until you pass out from the cold. Then I'll wake you up with a light tap, like this. (Lightly taps Cinder's knee)

Cinder: (Doubles over in pain like she was punched in the stomach, growling as she glared at Jaune: What... did you do?!

Jaune: You like it? It's a new trick I picked up with my semblance. See, I can give up part of my aura to refill someone else's. But that's just the tip. See, I learned I can not only give aura, but also take it, manipulate it, or just add to it. (Points at Cinder) With you, I just tweaked it. I adjusted your aura to be especially sensitive to touch. In other words, a light breeze becomes a frozen chill. (Breathes on her neck, she flinches and shrinks to cover her neck) A hot breath becomes like a sunburn in the desert. And a light tap (pokes her cheek, Cinder reacts like she was kicked in the face) become the wrong end of a meet'n'greet with a horse. But don't worry. It should wear off in about an hour. In the meantime... (Opens the door, Cinder is gasping and shivering) Penny? Could you come here?

Penny: (Enters) Yes, friend Jaune? Are you unharmed?

Jaune: I'll be fine. Just some bad memories. I did everything I could, but I got nothing. You wanna give it a try?

Penny: I am friendship ready!

Jaune: (Whispering) By the way, I found out she's really ticklish, so I'd try there to start. (Speaking normally) I'll be back in about an hour. Get myself some fresh air. (Walks out) Good luck, Cinder! (Door shuts behind him; hears Cinder scream) You're gonna need it.

[myinconnelly1]

Dancing the Spiral

Word count: 4K (this is the longest One-shot I've ever written)

Masterist of Everything

A/n: Written for @dontshootmespence ‘s 8k celebration! here is I for Insanity!!! If you scare easily this might not be the fic for you.  But i think it came out awesome.  I took a lot of inspiration from my time playing White wolf’s World of Darkness, and you might recognize some stuff from The Golden Knight.  Also big thanks to @donnaintx and @emilyshurley for being my sounding board, giving me ideas for the monsters and telling me to go to bed when it was late.

A/N 2: Also i put some breaks within the fic.  They don't mean anything other than this is a good pause place if your eyes hurt.

Warnings: graphic depictions violence/gore, themes of horror and insanity, SNAKES

Summary:  Kelsey has a disturbing Dream about herself and the Winchesters and now she has to try and understand it before it’s too late.

“How are you ss-sleeping, Kelsey?”  The doctor asked as he leaned back and looked at her studiously.  His lisp caused her obvious discomfort as she relived the vivid imagery of her nightmare.

“Not bad,”  Kelsey lied dropping her gaze to the floor as she avoided eye contact with the man.  She was new to this practice but wanted to give the doctor a chance.  In her opinion, it was not going well, but it could be going worse.  Any minute now he could turn into a snake man and she would snap her eyes open.  She had not slept in nearly a week and she had started hallucinating.  

“You’re not a very good liar.  You just said that you didn’t really like this practice but were going to give it a try.  So why don’t you tell me about what’ss bothering you.”  He licked his lips and pulled out a notepad.

Kelsey rolled her eyes.

“Sam I’ve been having this dream.  You’re in it, and so is your brother.”  She was pacing outside a motel.

“Come on, Kelsey, it sounds like you’re gonna start explaining a sex dream.”  Kelsey closed her eyes and inhaled deeply as she fought with herself.  She heard a noise and jerked her head around, but nothing was there to see.  “Get a goddamn grip.  Plenty of people deal with insomnia and bad dreams.  They don’t go running to their new boyfriends trying to explain that the monsters might be real.”

“But most people also get some sleep despite those things.  They don’t stand around hearing and seeing shit that isn’t there.”  She muttered in argument.

“Yeah well they don’t talk to themselves either,”  She quibbled back.

“You okay?”  Sam asked as he stuck his head out of the motel room door.  “I saw you standing out here pacing and wasn’t sure if you were going to come in or not.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna come in.  I don’t think you were going to go in.  I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to bother Sam with this.”  Kelsey babbled until she realized that Sam was staring at her like she had a second head.  “Sorry, not sleeping.”  She gave a weak smile.

“No problem, we’ve all been there,”  Sam said.  “Dean and I were just doing some research for a job.”

“That sounds exciting,”  Kelsey said trying to contain her thoughts in her mouth. Dean gave her a quick smile and a wink as she came into the motel.  “What kind of job are the FBI working on in town?”  She had a serious case of Deja Vu and surreptitiously found a mirror to look at herself in.

“We’re looking into some suspicious missing person cases.  We’re not really sure what the connection is but we’re hopeful.  You okay?”  Sam asked.  

You caught yourself staring at the mirror and realized you had inadvertently picked out the outfit from your dream. You were muttering something and not listening to your boyfriend so quickly tried to recover.

“Missing persons, I haven’t heard about anyone.”  She was pretty out of the loop on missing persons working in the ER and things had been worse lately, but she figured she would have heard about at least one.

“We’ve been keeping it quiet,”  Dean said a little too quickly.  She looked at him oddly.

“Dean, if there is a connection between these people I don’t know what it is.”  Kelsey saw Sam say to Dean from his laptop.

“There has gotta be a connection.  Why are these people being targeted?”  Dean’s voice rumbled.  “Maybe they are looking for something, demons don’t just possess people for no reason.”

“I don’t think they are demons, Dean,”  Sam said.

Kelsey’s head was spinning.  She blinked rapidly trying to clear her mind of the hallucination.

“Kel, maybe you should sit down.”  Sam’s voice was like the surface of a still lake as Kelsey broke the surface for air.  She shook her head vigorously, fleeing the room.

“Kelsey, wait!”  Dean stood to try and catch her but she was off and gone.

“This is a creepy ass temple,”  Dean groaned looking at the abandoned building.  He didn’t want to be here and wasn’t sure if the souls of the people that had been brought here wanted to come either.

Kelsey sat up on the floor of her apartment gasping as the world spun.  She tried to count ten but kept losing focus.  She stood and went to the freezer and grabbed an ice cube.  The cold helped restart her train of thought and stir her from the brink of the abyss she felt like she was standing over.  Kelsey rubbed her arm scratching the imaginary bugs that she knew weren’t there.

She needed to go to the temple.  It was the only way she was going to figure this out.

“You mean if it is even real,” She sighed at herself.  She pulled out her phone and sent Sam a text apologizing for the way that she had rushed out.  She confirmed that she was in fact, really okay.  “Liar.”  

She packed a few items and left in search of where she thought the temple was.  Or at least where Dean thought the temple was, when she had hallucinated being him.  She was starting to no longer care how crazy it sounded.

“Kelsey?”  Sam asked as she realized she had been standing in front of the somewhat ruined temple.  “What are you doing here?”

“Um, listen this is gonna sound weird,”  She said

“Not any weirder than anything else you’ve done today,”  Dean muttered, but Sam elbowed him.

“No, it’s true.  I think.  I uh, had this weird dream about this temple and you guys and these snake monsters.  Anyway, I had to figure out what was going on.  But I haven’t been sleeping so I’m not sure what's real anymore.”  Kelsey continued to babble.

“Wait, snake monsters?”  Sam asked, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Yeah, they were snakes, but not quite.  And they had arms and claws.  And I think they can possess people, but I think that’s kinda crazy and I don’t feel so good.”  Kelsey curled up a little as her muscles cramped from the lack of sleep.

“No, it’s okay,”  Sam said wrapping his arms around the tired brunette.

“Sam,”  Dean’s voice sounded like a warning.

“No, she needs to know.  What you were dreaming about, it’s real.”  Sam said, pulling her close.

“It is?”  Kelsey whispered.  “I don’t know what’s worse, that those monsters are real or that you believe me.”  

“What do you mean?”  Dean asked.

“I’ve been hallucinating a lot,” Kelsey admitted.  “But I didn’t think that you guys would really believe me.”

“The missing people aren’t really missing.  It’s more like they’ve been possessed.”  Sam said.

“So then what is this creepy temple?”  Kelsey asked, pointing to the building that was falling apart.

“It’s an entrance to a supposedly creepy shadow world,”  Dean said.

“The Spiral,”  Kelsey said, shaking her head and rubbing her face.

“How did you know that?” Sam asked, looking at her as he and Dean pulled out shotguns.

“I’m not sure, but what are you going to do with those?”  She pointed at the guns.  “If they are spirits can you actually touch them?”

“The monsters are called Naag, and we are hoping that they are repelled by salt like other ghosts,”  Sam said as they loaded the firearms with the salt rounds.

                                                        ~~~~~

“We have to go through the door.  No matter what.”  Sam said as they approached the entrance of the temple.

“What happens if we don’t?”  Kelsey asked as she realized she was seriously underprepared.

“We don’t leave ever,”  Dean responded, giving her a quick glance over his shoulder.

“But we will, it’s gonna be okay, just stay close,”  Sam comforted.  The three of them walked into the temple, and all gasped as if they were being stabbed all over by icicles.

They panted as they tried to gain an understanding of their surroundings in the inky black.  Kelsey knew something about what they had done was wrong but she wasn’t sure what it was.  Their eyes adjusted slowly to the dimness until finally, they saw the temple in its full splendor all around them.

“Where the hell are we?”  Dean asked as he turned around slowly.

“The spiral,”  Sam answered.  “I think.”

“Yes,”  Kelsey suffered a momentary lapse of lucidity as her vision doubled with a view of splendid statues and Snake men.  “This was their entrance to protect.  This is the first circle.  We shouldn’t be here.”

“Why?”  Dean asked, lifting the shotgun again.

“Normally you enter the spiral in your sleep,”  Kelsey said,  “We walked in.”

“How do you know that?”  Sam asked, grabbing her forearm gently, to look at him.

“I’m not sure,”  Kelsey seemed to struggle to grasp the answer to the question.  “I think I dreamed about it.”

“More importantly, why does it matter that we were awake.”  Dean interrupted her thoughts.

“We’re here in the flesh.  We are in their world.  We have to play by their rules.  They can hurt us, and possess us.”

“That explains why the others were brought here, so they could be possessed,”  Sam said looking over her shoulder and said to Dean.  He released Kelsey’s arm.

“Yeah but for what purpose?”  Dean asked looking back at his brother.

“It’s a trap,”  Kelsey’s eyes went wide as she looked up at Sam, then bolted for the doorway they had just come through.

“Kel, that’s not gonna-”  He cut off as she leaped through the doorway and disappeared.  “Work…  huh, I guess she found the door, come on.”

Sam and Dean came through the door and found Kelsey covering her ears and screaming.

“What the hell?”  Dean asked as he and Sam went over to her.  She turned and scraped her nails across Dean’s face as she say him first.  “Fuck!”  He yelled as he backed up.

“Kelsey! Hey, it’s Sam.  Stop!”  He commanded as he tried to keep her hands at bay from attacking him.  “Find the door!”  Sam shouted over her screeching.

“There!”  Dean shouted as he saw the outline in the empty dark room.  The smaller dark-haired woman had finally gotten the upper hand on Sam, and Dean ran at her, throwing her over his shoulder toward the door with Sam right behind him. Dean kicked the darkness and the light flooded the dark, blinding them momentarily as they moved through the door.

“Where the hell are we now?”  Dean asked as he looked around the open field.

“Endurance?”  Sam threw out the word like Dean should know what it meant.  Kelsey squirmed in the older brother’s arms.

“Will you put me down please?”  She asked, sounding her normal calm self again.

“Are you going to scratch me again?”  Dean asked as he lowered her feet to the ground.

“I’m sorry,”  She said wringing the hem of her shirt.

“It’s healed, like it never happened,”  Sam said looking at Dean.

“What does endurance mean?”  Dean asked, ignoring his brother’s statement.  His face still stung even if the wound wasn’t there.

“It’s the third circle of the Spiral,”  Sam said.

“So what was that?”  Dean asked, jerking his thumb over his shoulder to the now no longer there door.

“Rage,”  Kelsey said, wiping at the tears streaking her cheeks.  “Sorry, it was like all the anger and frustration I’ve been holding on to without my sleep hit me like a tidal wave.”

“It’s okay,”  Sam said, knowing that this realm would bring out the worst in all of them.

“It’s not, but we don’t have time for that,”  Kelsey said.

“You know, not to kick a gift horse in the mouth but you seem much more together here,”  Dean said looking at Kelsey’s clear eyes.

“This place is madness,”  Kelsey said cryptically as she walked forward and down an almost limitless mountain.

“What the hell does that mean?”  Dean asked, throwing his hands up.

“Maybe everything is top-see turvy here, and because of that the world makes sense to her?”  Sam suggested taking off after her.

“Right,”  Dean mumbled, rolling his eyes.

The group walked for what seemed like hours.  They were tired and there was no end in sight to the landscape.  Let alone a door or entryway.

“Do you think we missed it?”  Sam asked concern crossing his face.  None of them wanted to get stuck here and face the corruption of their souls that awaited them.

“I don’t think so,”  Kelsey said as she did a slow circle to look around.

“If you say something cryptic and creepy, like the door will show up when we least expect it, I’ll-”  Dean was interrupted and they all cried out in surprise as the ground literally fell out from beneath them.

                                                     ~~~~~

“Well that hurt,”  Kelsey groaned before looking around.  “Sam?  Dean?!”  She cried out the names of the brothers looking for them frantically, before the chilling reality that she was alone struck her.

“All alone?”  A voice called from the shadows of the temple.  Her fall from the previous circle had brought her back inside.

“Who’s there?”  She whimpered, as she started to walk through archways toward the voice.

“Sssomeone who knowss who you are,”  the voice seemed to mock her.  It stayed hidden in the shadow, but she assumed it belonged to one of the Naag, who resided and protected this part of the Spiral.  It continued to hide away from where she could see.

“My master is looking for sssomeone like you.  What is your name, foolish one?”

“I thought you knew who I was?”  She chided.

“Sslip of the forked tongue.  I know what you are.”  The masculine voice corrected itself.

“I’m a person,”  She said the sliver of doubt caused by her dream cracking back open.

“With a dead-end job, who wonders where they should truly be in the world.  You are kind to people because they aren’t kind to you.  But you have never felt like you really belong.”  He sounded almost clinical in his appraisal of her.  And it stung her just how close to the mark he had fallen.

“How do you know so much about me?”  She asked as a tingling feeling had started to spread throughout her body starting at her toes and fingers.  Her skin was becoming ethereal like she was fading out.

“We’ve been watching you.  You have much doubt.  This ss-circle is not for those who don’t believe in themselvesss.”  He hissed a laugh.

“If you’ve been watching me, then you’ve been waiting for me.  Why?  Unless you knew I was coming here.  But even I didn’t know I was coming here?”  Kelsey was thinking in circles and stalling out.  Her fear and exhaustion were starting to get to her as she continued to fade from her own few.

“Pleassse, Psssychic.  You always knew this is the road you were going to take.  Ever ssince you had that dream,”  He spoke with a villainous laugh. Kelsey’s body was disappearing rapidly now as her doubt about her entire life ate her away.

“Psychic?” She whispered.

“Now, I will claim you as mine,”  The Naag was suddenly in front of her.  A hideously deformed beast that stood well over eight feet tall.  It was haunched back on a thick tail and a cobra-like hood flared around its fanged head.  Two meaty arms protruded from its sides with long menacing claws.  Something grabbed Kelsey’s invisible arm and tugged her roughly.

“Sam?!”  She cried as she flung herself around the tall man.

“I saw you first, but don’t thank me or anything,”  She heard Dean mumble.

“What happened?”  She asked, looking at the two men.

“We were separated from each other, but thankfully after walking through some of the interior structures, we walked through the door by accident.  I don’t know what caused us to become visible to each other,”  Sam explained, giving Dean a significant look.  Kelsey would ask him about that later.  Then she remembered what the Naag had said to her.

A Psychic, that meant that she knew what was going to happen here.  A sinking feeling of dread fell like a rock in the pit of her stomach.  

“Don’t let the Naag bite you,”  She said realizing that her moment of silence might have seemed suspicious.  “I saw one right before you grabbed me.”

“We haven’t seen anything,”  Dean said, looking around with his shotgun lifted again.  The agitation and fear of the men was palpable.

“And they never will,”  A serpentine voice hissed in her ear.  She spun around to see the Naag from the previous circle towering over her and Sam.

“RUN!”  She screamed. Other Naags were audible in the distance as Sam and Dean didn’t ask questions and took off away from where the spirit was.

“There!”  Dean called pointing his gun to the side.  “There is the door.”  The temple was starting to collapse around them.  Heavy stone blocks falling all over.

“Kelsey, come on!”  Sam called urging the girl to run faster.  She cut the corner, dodging falling rubble just in time to see the Naag from before collide into Dean’s back.  He howled in pain, the large body of the Naag fell from her view as the door and the other Naag closed in on them.  Another smaller Naag latched onto Sam, just as Kelsey caught up to them.

They crashed through the doorway with the two Naags clawing for purchase on their skin.

“That was anticlimactic,” Kelsey groaned as the scenery had not changed between circles of the Spiral.  “Be on the lookout!“

Kelsey grabbed the monster on Sam by an unidentifiable appendage and yanked, tugging it off of his back before it had time to bite him and claim him for itself.

“Find the door, I’ll get Dean.  This is the last circle, so watch for the betrayal.” She was turning away and found the older Winchester staring at her.  The look in his eye was murderous and she felt the air leave her chest as his arm struck her middle and sent her flying across the width of the large temple hallway.  

“Guess you found it,”  She muttered to herself weakly.  She blinked repeatedly and shook her head to clear it, before clambering awkwardly off the ground.  Dean was charging toward her and she sidestepped in time for him to slam into the wall and fall in a crumple.  

She couldn’t see the Naag anywhere but knew that something had happened between Dean and it.  She invoked her second sight, a thing she hadn’t realized she could do and saw the misshapen atrocity that was coiling itself around Dean’s essence.  She sighed, knowing that this would be the one time Dean would be happy to know that the scars of his life were working for him as the Naag struggled to fit itself into all the grooves.  She reached for the bite mark that marred the back of his shoulder-blade and worked her first two fingers into the infernal wound.  

Dean howled in pain, as Kelsey’s fingers dug under his skin trying to reach the end of the Naag’s ethereal tail.  Sam’s gun fired behind her but all she could do was hope that the rock salt affected the Naag, as she couldn’t let herself be distracted at this crucial moment.  She exclaimed as she hooked her finger on the spirit then stood, ripping it from its almost settled location within Dean’s essence.  Dean crumpled to the ground as the bite on his back healed like it never existed.

Kelsey flung the Naag spirit against the opposing wall and pulled Dean up from the ground.

“I found the door!”  Sam shouted as he ran to join them and take Dean’s weight from her.

“Let’s go, we can’t waste anymore time,”  Kelsey urged the brothers in front of her so she could keep an eye out for the other Naags she knew were close behind and Sam and Dean started to sprint for the door.  She smiled to herself knowing they were within spitting distance as the door came into view.

Something snapped around Kelsey’s ankle and she gasped as the ground met her face rapidly.

“Pessssky little bitch,”  the atrocious snake-man hissed as it pulled itself against her chest.  “I liked him, but if you wanted me so badly,”  It coiled its tail around her leg as if to cuddle itself close to her warm body.  “All you had to do was say so.”

Kelsey uttered a blood-curdling shriek of pain as the millions of tiny dagger-like teeth sunk into her collarbone.

“Kelsey!”  Sam cried as he heard her and turned to see the spirit disappear.  He shoved Dean through the door and ran back over to her as her body started to convulse and bubbles formed around her slightly purple lips. “Shit,”  Sam cursed as he worked to get his hand under her head to keep her from choking.  The light behind the door was fading and unknown to Sam, more Naags were starting to come into the hallway.

Kelsey gasped and then sputtered like she had been drowning.  Her eyes snapped open as she steadied herself.

“Come on, we have to get out of here,”  Sam said standing her up and supporting her around the waist.

“You have to go,”  She croaked as he half dragged her.

“I’m not gonna leave you,”  Sam said firmly.  They stepped through the door together, as claws from one of the Naags raked along Sam’s arm and grabbed Kelsey around the waist to try to pull her back through the door.

“Sam!”  she screamed his name, terror was written on her face.

“Dean!”  Sam shouted as he turned trying to get a better grip on the brunette.  Dean came around to grab her as well and their combined strength was enough to balance out the strength of the Naag.

“Ssshhhhe’ss mine,”  Kelsey gagged on the hiss as the Naag used her voice to speak.

“No,” Sam argued.

“Go on, Psssychic,”  The spirit struggled with the word.  “Tell them what you saw in your dream.  Tell them how you knew this would happen and you came anyway.”  Tears fell from Kelsey’s eyes as Sam’s face contorted with pain.  She had known she wouldn’t make it, and she had come to save them anyway.

“I’m not going to let you die,”  Sam grunted as he pulled doubly hard.  A joint popped loudly in Kelsey’s arm.

“We’re not winning,”  Dean growled lowly.

“Ssssshhe won’t die with me.”  The Naag hissed like a dark soothing balm.  Kelsey seemed to battle with herself momentarily as the claws around her waist pierced her flesh.

“Don’t worry, Sammy,”  Dean tried to bolster his brother.

Kelsey’s body went limp suddenly and the brothers were pulled close to her face.  Dean let go with the limited space of the doorway,  and Kelsey grabbed Sam’s face with her free hand to kiss him deeply.

“Thank you,”  She whispered against his stun-slack lips.  “I will find you.”

She twisted her arm around, breaking his hold on her forearm and was pulled back through the door.

“And that’s where I wake up,”  Kelsey finished her recount to the therapist who made little notes in his book.  “If I’m honest, I’m tired.  I haven’t dreamed since then.  I just don’t know what to make of it.”

“Interesting,”  The man muttered as he moved to put his notepad down.  He stood, and something in his eyes caught Kelsey’s attention.

“Doc, you okay?”  She asked fear causing her voice to shake.  She was trying to be subtle in the way she scooted down the couch toward the door.  “Doc?”

“He’sss long gone.  But don’t worry, I think you’ve been looking for me,”  His face contorted horrifically and she screamed as the door to the office slammed open.  Sam and Dean rushed in weapons drawn, and their faces reflected her disgust at the evil spirit from her nightmare.

@waywardbaby @destielhoneybee @snffbeebee @deangirl7695 @spnbaby-67 @maddiepants @tabrown2021 @ladywinchester1967 @woodworthti666 @miraclesoflove @tumbler-tidbits @emilyshurley @akshi8278 @mannls @wendibird @bobasheebaby @flamencodiva @theoneandonlymelol @chelsea072498 @donnaintx @justsomedreaming @supernaturalenchanted @kalesrebellion @prettydeaneyes @emoryhemsworth @yourdommelb @idreamofplaid

[osterfieldshollandgirl]

Prince and Princess of the Sandcastle

         Harry Holland has always been close to you since you both are best friends growing up together as children. It all started when you both were playing on the same playground at 5-years-old with your mom's chatting on the bench watching you both play with you in the sandbox and Harry on the swings. You were sitting in the sandbox building a castle minding your own business before a boy named Harrison who is an 8-year-old comes and kicks down the castle. You sit confused and annoyed and ask, "What was that for?" and cross your arms. Harrison laughs while teasing," Sandcastles are for sissies." While another boy who is the most handsome boy, I have ever seen tried to stop Harrison from bothering you any further. I thought the action made me feel like a princess and he was my prince saving me from the evil villain. 

      The interruption caused Harrison to turn to Tom with a questioning look, "Why what do we have here Tom protecting a girl. Why don't you run along and push Harry on the swings?" I am watching this interaction not sure what to do, and then I hear his name and swoon he is a perfect boy named Tom. I watch Tom's attitude change and he snaps back, "Leave innocent people alone, she has done nothing to you so mind your own business." After his speech he offers his hand to me and offers to push me on the swing, I accept eagerly excited to play with him and his brother. I look over to my mom and she nods her head in approval, so I take his hand and walk over to the swings to play with Him and Harry. I sit down shyly next to the boy named Harry, I play with the edge of my dress and introduced myself. "Hi, I am Y/N, you must be Harry." He nods shyly looking away and Tom is watching this interaction smiling about how cute you both look knowing there is friendship about to form. After a few minutes, Harry gets the courage to approach you and gets off his swing and asks quietly, "Is it okay if I push you?" I nod and he starts to push me while laughing as I squeal each time I go higher. From that moment on you, both were inseparable.

          We are both 21 now, so going out to pubs sounds inviting but you have always been a person to want to stay home and watch movies. Harry on the other hand is different so you both have a pack that Sundays are movie days and Saturdays are free for him to do anything he wants. We live together with his older brother Tom, yes, the prince Tom that has grown exceptionally more handsome if that is possible. Also, surprising but not at the same time Harrison the one who messed my sandcastle became best friends with Tom and lives with us. He interacts only with Tom and Harry, always ignoring me for some reason. I always try to be nice to him but every time I try, he is rude back to me and Harry protects me, but Tom just stays quiet which hurts me at times. I have formed feelings for Tom, but it would not work because Harrison would interfere, and I want someone to be with me for me.

         Today is going to be interesting because Harry is out all day as usual but when I walked out of my room to make my morning tea, I see Tom and Harrison sitting at the kitchen island talking. I act normal and mind my own business starting my tea, with filling the mug with water and I noticed the tea bags are empty, but they are on the top of the shelf out of my reach. I hear a snicker coming from one of the boys not needing to turn around to know who it is. "Need any help shorty?" I try to stay calm and was thinking about standing on the counter to get the tea bags not wanting to ask for their help. I said nicely, "I am okay, thank you." I then hear Tom offer help, but I cannot stand that he is a gentleman with me when Harrison is not around. "I just said I am okay, please stop asking."  I snapped at Tom and when I looked back, I saw Tom's show hurt, and before I could say anything he bitterly says, "I was only offering to help not to date you or anything." I shake my head and turn around, there is the attitude that I knew it was too good to be true. I heard them leave the kitchen and decided to try to get the tea bags by myself. My approach was to start by sitting on the counter and was able to reach the tea box by sitting on my knees and as I got a hold of the box and as I moved to get off the counter there was a water puddle and my knee moved to that spot causing me to slide and fall off the counter. I was waiting for the hard fall onto the floor but instead, I fell into muscular arms and I slowly opened my eyes embarrassed knowing it was probably Tom, but it was Harrison. He looks down at me with disappointment and slight guilt about making you almost hurt yourself because of his pride. "How can you be so dumb, if I had not forgotten my phone you could have been hurt more."  He scolded before smoothing over his hand over my knee to make sure I am okay.

          Harrison grabs an ice pack from the freezer on the way to the living room, placing me softly on the couch. I honestly had to say his arms were not all that bad to be in, but I then remembered how he acts towards me. He walks back to the kitchen and I can see him making my tea, I had mixed feelings now about how he is acting as he cares for me. I put my legs up and lay the ice pack on the knee starting to see a bruise forming and hope Harry would not get to upset with me for what I did. I hear Harrison mumbling to himself, "She does not understand, she means so much to us." But I could not make out what it was and watch him place the tea on the coffee table. At that moment Tom walks out and sees me sitting on the couch with an ice pack and looks at Harrison with an angry expression, "What happened? Why is Y/N sitting there with an ice pack on her knee."          

         Harrison then looks at me and sees me look down ashamed of myself and then explains, "She tried to be a hero and get the tea box by herself and decided to kneel on the counter, she met water causing her to slip. I luckily caught her before she could hurt herself. Her pride got to her, but I am sorry for acting the way that I do. Please do not do anything like that ever again." Tom looks at me with such disappointment that it makes me want to cry and then says," That is big of you Haz for saving and apologizing, I wish she would have just let us help her instead she tried to be independent." I clear my throat, getting their attention but instead of being sympathetic and asking what is wrong, they look at each other with a look only that they would know. "I am sick of this; you both were snarky when you saw that I was struggling so please do not act mighty. Thank you for saving me Harrison, but one sorry does not make up for the other times." I snap angrily. Tom looks taken back and says before thinking it through, "Wow he apologizes, and you act like this stuck up and rude. This is not the girl that I like, you are changing and not for the good." I gasp and retort back, "You are acting like I am the only one, you act differently in front of Harry with me then you do with Harrison face it you are ashamed of me." Tom walks closer to me, "That is not true at all, I act the same it is you who does not want to hang around me when we are all together."

         I finally got my words together, "You pushed me away the other day when he came out of his room and laugh at his jokes, he makes at me every time. So, tell me right now, do you like me as more than your brother's best friend?" I wait for his response but see him look back at Harrison and I get my answer, so I tried to get up but have Harrison gently push me back to stay in place. As I think he is going to answer, Harry walks into the house and sees us all in the living room. I look at Harry and he runs over dropping his bags onto the floor and asks what happened. I watch how both boys explain the situation and Harry sides with them instead of coming to my side and asking If I am okay. I just sit there tearing up and wanting to be left alone, "Please leave and let me be alone."

           Harry and Harrison nod and walk away, except Tom who decided to stay back and talk to me. I watch him as he looks down at his hands, "So what is the answer?" I ask and see Tom walk over to sit down next to me. He cups my face and kisses me gently and passionately. He pulls away resting his forehead on mine, "Does that answer your question?" I act sly and tease, "I need words baby boy, and maybe another kiss." Tom wraps himself around me and smiles while confessing, "I have liked you since I met you on the playground. Would you do the honor and become my girlfriend?" I am in shock about how this morning turned out, but I loved the outcomes. "I would love to be your girlfriend," I say and lean in wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him in for another kiss. He deepens the kiss and I feel him run his tongue on my lower lip asking for an entrance. I lean more into him as he grips my hips gently helping me straddle him and I moan, he takes the opportunity and dominates the kiss. We continue the kiss until we hear a throat clear and break apart to see Harry.

            Harry walks over calmly and sits down as Tom moves me to sit down next to him while still holding my hand after still. I look down at our intertwined hands and smile as Harry I can tell is trying to analyze the situation, He wants to make you happy and let you date Tom but he wants to prevent a Heartbreak for the future. Tom has always admired you when you were not looking, Harry noticed and waited for the day for this to happen. He weighed out the options and finally said after two minutes, "You can date but no kissing in front of Harrison or me and if you break her heart I will be very upset and probably punch you." Tom laughs and you feel him squeeze your hand, "Deal, now please let me take care of my girl." Harry laughs as he walks over to me and kisses me on my forehead. Tom pulls me into his side, and I close my eyes taking at the moment and how sexy he smells. 

           The relationship was easy and fun at first because we would rarely use our phones around each other for the first four months. However, the past two weeks Tom has been laughing and texting this person almost all day. I first thought it was Harrison, but that same day I was on the couch and Harrison came home and sat down next to and put his arm around my shoulders. Our relationship has improved, and I have forgiven him, and vice versa, he admitted that he liked that is why he did what he did. The feelings are mutual friend's vibe now, so I asked him, "Has Tom been texting you lately?" Harrison looked confused, "No, he and I talk mostly in the evenings, why? Do you think he is talking to other girls?" I look away ashamed and he moves to hold both of my hands. He looks at me and says," Look Tom loves you and he would never cheat. But let me get it out of him and we will figure it out." I hug Harrison just as Tom walks in hoping he would see it and say something. Tom looked up and saw you two hugging and smiled happy that his girl and best friend are finally getting along. 

          I huff and get up to kiss him hello and as I am about to reach where he is standing, he receives a text. He stops looking at me and looks directly at the message typing away and I storm off. I decided to let me do the Tik Tok challenge and ask for his phone. That evening when we are hanging out in the living room, Harry in his room and Harrison at the kitchen island, I decide to do the challenge then. We are on the couch watching our show together more like me and he is of course on his phone. I place my phone discreetly and start, "Hey baby, can I see your phone?" you ask sweetly, and Tom looks at me like I am crazy slightly, "Why can you not use yours?". I try again, "Please let me use your phone, is there something you are hiding?" He answers abruptly "No I am not hiding anything, are you accusing me of something?" I quickly realize what is happening and grab my phone to stop the Tik Tok. "Wait this was for a Tik Tok, you are trying to create a problem that is not there for a 60-second video?" Tom says as he raises his voice causing Harry and Harrison to look our way. He starts to walk away, so you follow him and apologize, "I am sorry, it is just that you are always on your phone anytime I see you." He calms down and walks over hugging you and says loud enough to hear, "I am sorry, it just works stuff and I will be more present." And with that, we cuddle on the couch with occasional kisses. 

         The next day during breakfast, Tom had left his phone in the room just as he promised, and you were relaxed and happy. Tom asks you to get his jacket from the bedroom as he wanted to go for a walk so you agreed and was going to grab the phones as well. You open the door and see his jacket is near the phones that are charging, as you grabbed the jacket, you noticed his phone go off. The curiosity finally gave in and you decided to choose the curious girlfriend route. For safety measures, you locked the door and when you got to his phone you realized that it was unlocked and saw the name Tanya pop up. You decided to not go through the messages and trust him to go on that walk with him with an open mind. On the walk, you both held hands and talked about everything under the sun. Once you both got home, he kissed you before heading for the shower. Harrison smiles watching that things have gotten better between you two. You walked over to him hugging him and said loud enough for him to hear, "Can you ask Tom who is Tanya, I saw that name pop up multiple times on his phone? Please. I understand if you do not want to though." Harrison nods weary about it but is interested as well. 

        Tom comes out of the shower and sees me sitting on the bed in one of his shirts, he smiles and walks up to me and slips to stand between my legs. He pulls me closer and leans down to kiss me with so much love, "I love you Tommy" I say and then realize it slipped out. I pull away and see Tom smiling and cups my face gently, "I love you too baby." I smile and kiss him pulling him down on top of me on the bed as we let our hands roam each other's bodies and moans come out of our mouths. I pull away and peck his lips one last time and push him off me gently and get up to go shower and hear him humming to himself, I smile and hope those texts are not what I am thinking.

        Tom walks out and sees Harrison and Harry watching TV, he decides to join them and pulls out his phone to see a text from Tanya and looks for that picture for opinions on a promise ring. Harry joins the conversation and asks in a serious tone, "Who is Tanya and why is Y/N getting upset that you are texting her?" Tom freezes and defends his girl, "What are you talking about? She does not look through my phone she is not that person." Harry laughs weirdly, "Well, I heard her ask Harrison to ask you about Tanya and who she is. Please tell me it is not what I am thinking about." Tom gets annoyed and hurt at first that you did not trust him after a big moment such as saying I love you to each other. Tom clarifies, "I am not cheating, I wanted to get a nice ring for Y/N, so I asked Tanya for help." Harry nods and apologizes, "I am sorry I ever doubted you, I am just protective of Y/N." Tom nods while saying, "I understand, now please help me choose the best ring." The three of them go to work and choose the perfect one, then sending a text order out for the ring. Harrison comes up to you and makes you feel better by telling you Tanya is only a business connection connected to Tom's job. That night when Tom and you are both are in bed, he wraps his arms around you and cuddles you into his chest while whispering, "You are the only girl for me, I love you darling." I turn around and cup his face gently, "You are my world, I love you too." You both fall asleep in each other's arms feeling loved and appreciated. 

              That Friday night, Tom had been so excited because tonight is when he can finally give you the ring. He also had Harrison and Harry go out, so the house was empty for only the two of them. He had a facetime call with Sam to cook the perfect dish for you and had set the table with a vase filled with roses with a candlelit to set a romantic vibe. You had taken time to think about telling Tom the truth about what you did and so when getting dressed you thought about how Tom was so excited for tonight, just hoping he will not be upset. You walk out and see Tom dressed up in the striped button dress where his muscles are strained against it. The back muscles are showing through the shirt making me feel a certain way. I walk over and wrap my arms around him making him turn his face slightly allowing you to kiss his cheek. He smiles and tells you to sit down at the table as he brings you a plate with your favorite dish.         

           At the table, you make eye contact with Tom and say in a serious tone, "I want to tell you something just hear me out, I saw your phone say that you got a text from Tanya and I almost went through your phone but I did not because I trust you. I did the Tik Tok challenge to see if you would tell me anything. Finally, I asked Harrison to find out who Tanya was. Please do not be upset with me, I truly love you." Tom reaches over and kisses the tops of her hands, "Thank you for telling me the truth about it, and now I will give you a present that Tanya helped me with." He then walks over and sits down on the chair next to you and gets out a jewelry box. I smile excitedly to see the surprise and when I opened the box and saw the most beautiful ring and see Tom watching you with tears in his eyes. I move to sit down on his lap and kiss him passionately and lovingly while he holds me close to him. He takes the ring out of the box and puts it on her finger, it fits like a glove.  "Thank you so much, I am sorry I assumed the worse." I apologize and he cuts me off with a kiss and says, "Always remember I choose you over anyone and I love you so please do not feel like that." You both ate the wonderful dinner and after you go to your bedroom after cleaning up and Tom kept teasing with touches and kisses. Once you get to the bedroom, he throws you on the bed and shows you how much he loves you.  

Tag list:

@littlekidsteve​ @peachyxholland @tom-holland-is-spiderman @follow-tom-holland-is-spiderman @parkerpeter24 @frenchfrostpudding @osterfieldnholland  @fanficparker @mymoontom @holytingle @petertiingz @marvels-blue-phoenix @marvelatmendes @k-k0129 @fancyxholland

[moonlightstars16]

The numbers that are perfect for angst/fluff are: 27, 42, 43, 49, 52, and 66... I can't choose between those... You don't have to make angst for all of them but are you okay with that?

27. “Kiss me.” 42. “You’re always on my mind.” 43. “You have no idea how much I want you right now.” 49. “Who hurt you?” 52. “I wouldn’t change a thing about you.” 66. “Why me?”

Bruh I’m taking this as a challenge, IMMA DO IT ALL IN ONE SHOT! ;) And yes I will try to make it angst like. However I might quite possibly fail lolz.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Why Me?” He mumbled between heart-wrenching sobs against her shoulder. With a quick text away she was there. Connie always was there for Steven. Especially after he had physically turned into what he perceived himself as.

A monster.

Though he took on the form, deep inside she knew he was never one. But it hurt her to see that it happened at all. Inside she partially blamed herself for not pushing further. But she couldn’t focus on that, just like she told everyone, he needed them. He needed her, right now. So with arms wrapped around him as he leaned onto her, sitting on the couch in the dark living room, she comforted as he cried all he needed to let out. The emitting moonlight through the windows was all they needed to help ‘see’ right now.

“Because I love you, Steven. My Jam bud for life.” She spoke softly. Gently rubbing his back. Steven lightly chuckled before sitting up and wiping away the remaining tears. Thankful she was there, right now. Sometime’s he would feel guilty about calling her in for things like this, since she was working hard on school and other things. However, through her reassurance and willingness to help, he began to be more open with accepting her help.

Recovery is a process, and with therapy to help it was going just as much as one would expect. The tears he let fall were nothing new. Even during childhood he had his moments, but before his ‘breaking-point’ so to speak, he had grown a tad more self-conscious about it. If it wasn’t for Connie’s patience with him, listening in silence as he would ramble on, he figured he wouldn’t be as open compared to now.

“Thank you, Connie. For everything... I love you too.” Looking into her eyes his heart ached with joy. She was beautiful inside and out. It was a miracle she had stuck with him so far. “I still can’t believe you want to be friends with me. Let alone be my-... girlfriend.” Connie immediately took his hands in hers. Pressing one against her cheek and the other over her heart. Just enough so he could feel her smile and her heartbeat. To know it exists and this wasn’t some distant fantasy. It was real. Warmth and love flowed between them as she slightly moved closer to him.

“I wouldn’t change a thing about you, ever.” She spoke, rubbing her thumb across the back of his hand. He gently caressed her cheek and in turn made her lean against it. Turning her head slightly to press a kiss on the palm before looking back into his eyes. “Steven I have seen it all. And no matter what you look like, I’m always there for you.”

“But how can you even think about touching the hands that-” ‘Shattered...Murder....’ The look in his eyes made her squeeze his hands tight, before he could retract them. It only took a second before he snapped out of it. Steven had been careful about where his mind went in moment’s like these. It was still what others would call ‘a moral gray area’, however he was coming to terms with that acceptance of his actions. How others responded was up to them. He couldn’t control them and what they felt. Only hope they would see past the flaws and regrets.

“Steven I love you. Nobody is perfect. We all of done things in the past we regret. Some more than others, however, it doesn’t change what I feel for you.” Connie smiled and looked at him, hoping her words had some sort of effect. Steven saw how much she meant what she said and what she was feeling. Moving one of his hands to around her waist and running his other hand through her hair as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“You are always on my mind, Connie. Always.” Though it was dim, the light was enough to see the blush appear on her face. It was an adorable thing she did and he cherished. Well in truth he cherished all of her. Gulping she looked down and closed her eyes briefly, before resting her forehead against his.

“People always say what they would change if they went back in time. For me I would make sure you coming into my life stays with me.” Though she saw awful things, got hurt and almost lost apart of herself at times; she would never even dare to think of trading her life for something normal. Especially when it came to meeting her best friend and her, without-a-single-doubt, soul mate. Though they had grown a tad apart, they had reconnected much more as easily as they became friends.

“Even with my- um-...proposal?” She giggled and clung to him a bit more. They both knew they needed to talk about it more. But one thing was for sure.

“I have told you ‘not now’, but that does not mean no forever. Steven my answer is yes. But it’s more like a not yet.” She then bit her lip before continuing. “You asked me ‘if we are sure we are meant to be together why not say yes now?’” Repeating his question and paraphrasing a bit. “We talked about being our own people for a bit. Though don’t get me wrong I love being in this type of relationship with you. There was so much I wanted to say, maybe I should’ve pushed it further.”

“I would never want to take away who you want to be. And maybe so but it wasn’t like we we’re recovered from the shock yet.” He spoke with a more softer tone.

“True....Steven?”

“Yes?”

“Have you ever heard of a....promise ring?”

“Promise ring?” By that tone she figured it was a no. But the curiosity was also very present.

“Basically it’s like a promise between two people to always love each other.... and normally given to people who are not quite ready for marriage.... But that doesn’t mean you have to do that!” She began to ramble away the embarrassment she felt from the silent tension. “It was just a thought that came into my head and I thought it was a good idea to know but perhaps that was a bit to soon to tell and-”

“Connie” he spoke snapping her out of her speech. Steven then leaned in even closer. “Kiss me....” With that they allowed their lips to touch as Connie clung tighter. Steven pulled her so close she was on his lap. Leaning them back into the couch, still somewhat of a sitting position, as they slowly enjoyed the feeling. Patiently waiting as they each began to explore a bit more so than usual. After a few moments they both broke for air.

“You have no idea how much I want you right now...” Of course they weren’t ready but it was a nice thought to reveal every once in awhile. In a way it had the opposite and intended meaning affect on them both. While they wanted to do a tad more, they also know it was a good time to stop and just enjoy the moment now. Especially before they take an action either or both could end up regretting.

Steven then suddenly stood up, with Connie still in arms, as she laughed, giggled and clung to him. Wrapping her arms around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder. Watching as he walked towards the freezer, opened it up and revealed the still lit glow-in-the-dark bracelet. Emitting red all around the freezer and now them. Pulling it out he shut the door and looked into her eyes. She had lifted her head up and put her hand over her mouth. Tears threatening to spill over.

“I love the idea of a promise ring... well bracelet.” He spoke whilst setting her back down on the couch and kneeling before her on the floor. Taking her hand in his.

“Connie, you’ve been my jam bud ever since we met. Though we had many bumps I want you to know that I promise to be your jam bud no matter what. Will you be the same for me?”

“Of course I promise Steven!” She said laughing and reaching out to be in his embrace. Pulling apart as he slid the promise bracelet onto her wrist. He paused though upon seeing a round bruise on her upper arm.

“Who hurt you?” He asked as her gaze followed his.

“Oh! No one did. This was an archery accident....and a reminder why I’m better with a sword.” She laughed nervously then gasping slightly upon feeling his lips on her skin. Watching as the bruise faded away until it disappeared. He had gotten control over his healing powers, now only activating them when he meant to do it. Then he pulled her closer once more, letting her head rest on his shoulder again as he ran his fingers through her hair.

“I also promise to protect you. Not because it’s what’s expected of me, but because I want too.” His words held so much weight she couldn’t help but let a few happy tears fall.

“I promise to always be by you’re side Steven.” They held onto each other for a bit longer. Since Connie’s parent’s were out of town for the week and they trusted her(and already had there evening check in), she stayed and laid in his bed next to him, being cuddled as she did the same to him. They talked about everything and nothing. Some conversations deep and others more lighthearted. Connie even brought up the fact once more about how much she loved his song for her. It was the part of that memory they both found pleasant. So before they fell asleep, he began to sing and hum the song for her and for himself.

[cynicalrainbows]

The Next Best Thing Chapter 15

Catalina arrives early, when they’re still finishing the last of the birthday pancakes.

Anna is spreading Nutella with a surgeon's precision to ensure it covers her pancake right to the edges; Anne is running her fingers through a maple syrup puddle on the table and licking them. Baby Catherine is chewing on a bit of plain pancake in her highchair and Mary is putting the pan in the dishwasher. 

She’s only eating the strawberries but she aims a cuff at Anne when Anne asks if it’s because she’s on another diet and tells her to mind her own business. 

Anne subsides with a giggle and steals a spoonful of Nutella straight from the jar, whispering that Mary couldn’t fit into her new jeans when she tried them on last weekend. Mary’s face goes redder than the strawberries and she looks crosser than ever- but they’re interrupted by the doorbell.

 Cathy abandons her own pancake-face (with a Father Christmas beard of snowy white whipped cream- it looks excellent even though she’s not really that fond of the taste of whipped cream) when she hears Catalina’s voice in the hall doing the boring grown up Garden’s looking lovely, traffic, parking, price of petrol stuff that all grown ups seem incapable of not saying when they meet each other.

(She’s glad that when she sees Anne and her other friends, they can just jump right into talking about interesting things like books and television and whether rubbing two jelly aliens together and putting them in the freezer makes then make a tiny alien baby, and is it murder if your tamagotchi dies because you weren’t allowed to get down from Sunday Lunch to feed it, and is it true that if you swallow chewing gum, it ties up your stomach and kills you, and how it is that the chocolate in the bottom of a Cornetto manages to taste so much nicer than normal chocolate, and why is it that sharpening your pencil is boringboringboring when you’re in the middle of drawing a picture but really satisfying and fun when it means you get to stop doing handwriting practise to do it, and is it true that there was a boy in Year Four who stuck his whole finger into the teachers special electric pencil sharpener on a dare and had the tip of his finger sharpened away to nothing?)

She doesn’t quite have the courage to interrupt- but when Catalina sees her hovering in the doorway, she interrupts herself and stops agreeing with Anne’s Mum that the price of petrol is extortionate nowadays and gives Cathy such a big hug it lifts her right off her feet.

‘Mija!’

She lets herself cling tight for a moment and then lets go- she isn’t a baby after all, although there’s a little bit of her that wishes she was Kitty’s age so she could be picked up and cuddled properly. 

‘How are you?’

She nods. ‘I’m ok.’

Anne’s Mum does a bit lipsticky smile like a lady in an advert and asks if she slept well and she nods again. ‘Yes thank you.’

She hopes Catalina has mostly forgotten last night and doesn’t bring it up to Anne’s Mum.

(She knows grown ups can be so sneaky like that sometimes, sharing your secret things with one another and pretending they’re doing it for your own good.) 

She especially hopes that Anna won’t say anything- she hasn't yet but you never know, and even though Cathy doesnt think she’d say anything on purpose, she might just by mistake. She can’t even ask Anna to keep quiet because then Anne will hear and want to know what it is that Anna is meant to keep quiet about.

And Anne is terrible with secrets.

Not with keeping them, she’s actually very very good at withstanding all sorts of secret-spilling torture, even Chinese Burns, but with wanting to know other people’s. Once she knows them, she’s always perfectly happy to not tell anyone else, on pain of death- but Cathy still doesn't want to have to explain everything about last night to Anne. She doesn’t want Anne to think that she didn’t enjoy her birthday after all.

Anne’s Mum says that Catalina would be welcome to stay for a cup of coffee- or a Cappuccino or an Afogato even- but that the Photographer will be arriving soon. She says the word like photographer should have a capital letter.

Anne bobs up out of nowhere, licking Nutella from her fingers and asking what photographer and can’t Cathy and Anna stay to play a bit longer.

 Anne’s Mum hisses at her not to be silly, of course they can't stay and of course Anne knows who the photographer is, she’s told her all about it.

‘It’s for the birthday photoshoot.’ She adds to Catalina and Catalina nods politely and says it sounds lovely.

‘But it's not my birthday.’

‘Well, it'll be like a second birthday.’ Anne’s Mum’s smile is still there but it’s looking a bit forced now.

Anne seems to perk up a bit at the idea of a second birthday, and Cathy is just wondering if she’ll be allowed to have two birthdays two if this is now a Thing, when Anne pauses.

‘But then Cathy and Anna have to stay or it won't be a proper party!’

Anne’s Mum gives an impatient little sigh. ‘Of course it isn't a proper party! I do wish you'd listen- it's a photoshoot, like I said.’

‘But you just said it was my second birthday!’

‘For goodness sake Anne! I shouldn't have to explain every little thing to you- you’re eight now, you're not a baby!’

Anne scowls.

‘You’re going to say goodbye to Cathy nicely and then go and have a shower so you can be ready…. With any luck, your friend’s parents will be here soon too before the other children get here.’

Cathy wonders if Anne’s Mum has forgotten Anna’s name.

‘But if there are other children anyway, why can't I have Anna and Cathy?’

‘Well it's only fair!’ The smile falters and is hurriedly replaced. ‘They’ve come to the sleepover so we thought it would be nice to spread things around a bit and let your other friends be part of the photoshoot!’

It’s uncomfortable and horrible listening to Anne get scolded: it feels like there is something sad and grey making the air heavier.

Anne’s mum is scowling like she’s really really annoyed and she’s so glad that Catalina is not like Anne’s Mum and doesn't get cross when she asks questions- she knows if she was suddenly told she was having a photoshoot, she’d be asking even more questions than Anne.

Actually, she’s glad Catalina is not like Anne’s Mum, full stop.

‘Which other friends?’

Cathy wonders if maybe Anne has got some other girls from their class coming to play once she and Anna are gone, and it’s not a nice thought, but then Anne’s Mum starts saying names and she doesn’t recognise any of them.

‘-and Ingrid and Patience and Harriet-’

‘But I don't like them!’

‘Of course you do!’

Anne does an experimental single stamp of her foot; it’s like a challenge. ‘I hate them-’

They don’t hear the rest, because at that moment, Anna comes into the hall, looking confused at all the commotion, and Anne’s Mum sighs and seizes Anne by the wrist and tugs her further down the hall.

It’s all a bit awkward. Catalina is asking Anna how she is and if she had a nice time at the sleepover but she can’t listen properly, because really, all she can pay attention to is the cross sound of Anne’s Mum’s voice as she hisses things in Anne’s ear while she Anne squirms and whines and tries to pull away.

When they come back, Anne has stopped arguing.

‘What do we say?’

 ‘Thank you for coming, Cathy.’ 

She hates how Anne looks now, all sad and crumpled and flat. It's not at all how you should look on your birthday (or even the day after your birthday) and she has to hang onto Catalina’s hand tightly to stop her stomach from squeezing uncomfortably.

She can only manage a little ‘Thank you for inviting me’ in response, which doesn’t really feel like a good enough response considering it was her first sleepover ever, but Catalina squeezes her hand and then smiles warmly at Anne.

‘I hope you had a lovely birthday, carino. A photoshoot sounds like it will be lots of fun- im sure Cathy will be very excited to hear about it on Monday. I'm certainly interested in hearing about it!’

(She might be annoyed, at any other time, at Catalina calling Anne one of the names that’s really just for her- but she isn’t now. She just wants Anne to go back to looking normal and happy like she usually does.)

Catalina squeezes Cathy's hand again, and bit more firmly this time and she realises she’s meant to add something.

‘It'll be like being a celebrity…’ She’s not sure if she sounds very convincing so she tries harder. ‘You’re so lucky, Anne! Everyone at school will be so jealous!’

Anne’s Mum gives an approving nod and beams at her, and she turns her head so she doesn’t have to see it. Anne gives a very small reluctant smile. She doesn't say anything but she looks a tiny bit more cheerful as she goes up to shower, Anna trailing behind her.

They say another goodbye and thank you to Anne’s Mum and then they’re out onto the pavement.

She’s still holding onto Catalina’s hand but Catalina doesn’t seem to mind, she swings their joined hands between them.

‘So how was the sleepover? Did you have a lovely time mija?’

She nods.

‘What did you do? Did Anne like her present?’

‘She loved it. She said it was her second best favourite present.’

‘What was her first?’

Cathy describes the heelies and Catalina laughs. ‘Thank goodness! I was going to ask if you girls had had a fight, to get those bruises-’

Cathy twists her arm and notices for the first time the purply blue bruises blooming. 

‘It’s ok, they don’t hurt. I only fell over a bit. Anne fell over much more but that’s because she was trying to do a jump like the ice skaters on tv.’

‘Well I'm glad she liked her presents so much. Poor little thing.’

(Cathy isn’t sure why Catalina calls Anne poor- everyone at school, even the teachers, know that Anne’s parents have more money than sense. This means they’re rich.)

‘Anna thought my present was really good too. She said her present was really boring next to mine and she’d have to think up something more interesting next time.’

‘What did she get Anne?’

‘Jewelry making set. You can make earrings that you can wear even if you don’t have pierced ears.’ She hopscotches along the paving stones- it doesn’t really work like proper hopscotch though because they’re too close together. ‘Although Anna has her ears pierced already.’

(She’s a tiny bit jealous of Anna’s tiny gold studs- they look very cool. They’re not enough to make her want holes punched in her ears though, even the thought makes her feel a bit sick. Anne thinks she’s silly- she’d LOVE to have her ears pierced. 

She’s not allowed though, because ear piercings are one of the few things Anne’s Mum and Jane agree on, albeit for different reasons: Jane thinks Anne is much too young, Anne’s Mum says it’ll make her look common.

 Anne doesn’t think she’s too young, and she says that she doesn’t care about looking common because she wants to look cool...but neither Jane nor her Mum will budge.)

‘Did Anne like it?’

‘I think she did. She said that we could all make jewelry for the Inca Princess next time Anna and I came over to play. And then Anna cheered up a bit. I think she was worried Anne wouldn't like her present.’

Cathy doesn't feel like saying that she was also worried Anne wouldn't like her present. It feels funny also to be talking about Anna and not talking about the night before….but hopefully, it maybe means that Catalina has forgotten all about it.

She doesn’t bring it up on the walk home anyway- Catalina listens with great interest to an edited version of the story of the little attic girl, giving very appreciative gasps in all the right places and not interrupting even once to ask silly questions about whether or not the little girl has a swimming pool. 

‘That was an excellent story mija.’

‘Really?’ Catalina looks like she means it.

‘Wonderful- very imaginative. Makes me glad we don’t have an attic!’

Cathy giggles. ‘Anne said the little attic girl would come to my attic tonight and I reminded her that we didn’t have one and she said that next time, she was going to make up a story about a little girl who lived in a flat. Anna said it didn’t sound very scary.’

‘I suppose you’ll have to wait to hear it to know if it is or not.’

‘Anna said I should make up another story for next time.’

‘Well, I hope you’ll tell me if you think any more up, I’d love to hear them.’

‘Ok.’ Perhaps she’ll make up a story specially for Catalina- a special grown up story that has grown up things in it, like when they play Soap Opera in the playground and everyone plays that they’re having cancer and babies and cocktails. ‘It might be scary though.’

‘That's ok, mija. You have to let the muses guide you when you’re creating.’ 

Cathy knows all about the muses already- they’re spirity things that give you ideas and imagination when you’re doing art or writing, they’re what Catalina blames when she’s having trouble phrasing an idea for work.

(Not only are the muses very friendly to Artists of All Kinds, they are actually rather useful when it comes to the resultant mess of artistic endeavour.

Catalina introduced her to the concept on The Muses on her second week, the first time she’d tried painting in her new bedroom and coincidently the first time she’d made any actual serious mess there.

It hadn’t been her fault that the paint had spilled like it did and it hadn’t spilled much, but it had been enough to make her ponder what it would be like to see her godmother Properly Angry.

She hadn’t, until that moment, considered what a Properly Angry Catalina would look like. As she thought about it- and it wasn’t a terribly nice thought- she also realised that whatever form it took, there was nothing she could do about it. There wasn’t anywhere else for her to go. 

She wondered if, seeing the paint, Catalina would think about that too. She wondered if it would make her regret having to be the one to take care of her.

She’d never been scared of her godmother, but she was when Catalina saw the paint.

‘Ay dios mio, what IS that?’

She tucked her chin down into her chest. ‘Paint.’ Her voice is very small.

Catalina fanned her face. ‘I thought it was blood, I thought-’ She shakes her head hard, like she’s shaking thoughts away, then touches it and frowns. ‘It’s dried. Why didn’t you tell me before, it would have been easier to- Oh mija, it’s alright, don’t cry-’

She started looking guilty rather than annoyed.

Once Cathy was settled in her lap, scrubbing her sore eyes with a tissue and only hiccuping a little bit, Catalina had very nicely explained that while it was technically Cathy’s fault for spilling the paint, it was also her own fault for not telling Cathy to put down newspaper before she started painting and that maybe having a cream carpet was just asking for it, whatever that meant.

‘So perhaps it all balances out, querida.’

‘Are you really cross?’

‘Do I look really cross, mija?’

She considered. ‘No.’

‘Good, because I���m not. I know it wasn’t on purpose. Let’s just both try to remember the newspaper next time, ok?’

‘Ok.’

‘And we’ll blame the muses for this one.’

Once Catalina had explained about the muses, she’d said that they should probably get on with cleaning it up ‘before someone else sees it and thinks you’ve got a body hidden under your bed.’

She’d still felt a bit wobbly, when she thought about the stain. Catalina had given her a big cuddle and said that a little paint wasn’t the end of the world and that it would probably come right out. It turned out though that Catalina herself wasn’t really sure how to get paint out of carpet, so she’d gotten out her phone to check- ‘There’s no excuse for not finding things out nowadays, mija’- and she’d even let Cathy type the question into google herself.

The paint had come out on the second attempt, and Catalina had made her promise to always tell her right away if anything like that ever happened again.

So everything had worked out alright after all, even if she still hadn’t seen Catalina really, properly angry yet.)

*

Going back to the flat feels funny because it feels like coming home but everything also looks a little bit different- Catalina reassures her that it’s just how things feel sometimes after a trip.

‘It’ll go away mija’

Cathay still cant help looking around though. ‘Why are the books different?’

‘What’s that?’

Cathy points at the bookshelf- the spines are different colours.

‘Just felt like it was time for a little shuffle around, it makes me remember which books I haven’t looked at for a while.’

This makes sense.

It’s the middle of the morning: Catalina has a mug of the dark, rich coffee that she buys in little paper sacks from the special food shop in town. Cathy likes the smell but not the taste, although she hopes that will change when she grows up because coffee seems to be all that grownups drink. Coffee and wine, except she isn’t sure if she likes wine yet- Catalina lets her sip at her coffee when she asks but she hasn’t yet given in over Cathy’s requests to be allowed a taste of her merlot.

(‘Maybe when you’re nine or ten, mija. I just don’t dare any earlier, the harpies would tear me to pieces.’

Harpies is what Catalina calls the other mums at school; Cathy isn’t allowed to tell anyone that though, even Anne, on pain of every unpleasant torture, mi vida.

‘A glass?’

‘A sip. A very little sip. And not until you’re older, like I said.’

‘I could just not tell anyone.’ 

Cathy is quite good at not telling people things, she’s good at keeping secrets- which is why she doesn’t even give Catalina a list of some of her best, most well kept secrets to prove it- like how Anne spilt blue nail polish on the carpet in Mary’s bedroom and blamed it on Kitty even though it wasn’t exactly a lie because Kitty had been playing with it too and it really could just as easily been her and honestly, it would have been fairer, all things considered, for Kitty to be the one to spill it, considering she’s only little.

Catalina is shaking her head.

‘But I’m very good at keeping secrets!’

‘I know, mija-’

‘I didn’t tell my teacher that you did the last sum for me on my homework.’

Catalins gives her a stern look. ‘Good because as I recall, that was a deal we made so that you would go to bed and stop worrying about it.’

‘And I didn’t tell her. So you could let me try and I wouldn’t tell anyone.’

‘But wouldn’t it be a bit pointless if you couldn’t tell anyone? Wouldn’t you want to tell Anne?’

This is true- it’s actually a bit pointless if she can’t even tell Anne, although Anne surely doesn’t count as anyone- but she doesn’t want to weaken her position so she shakes her head steadfastly, and Catalina laughs and says she’ll be a wonderful lawyer when she’s older and gives her a kiss on the top of her head rather than a sip of wine.)

They have fancy twisty pastries with apricot jam and Cathy has a mug of warm frothy milk with a tiny bit of coffee in it, a pinch of cinnamon and a sprinkling of brown sugar. It doesn't matter that it’s not real coffee- it's much nicer than coffee anyway.

The coffee milk in the special china cup with her name on it, even though she’s already had one breakfast because Catalina had said she hadn’t eaten yet and did she think she could manage elevenses even if it wasn’t quite eleven?

She thought she probably could, having not finished her pancake and she was right. The apricot pastries are delicious; she thinks it’s what sunshine would taste like sunshine was spreadable. Catalina says that’s the best description of apricot jam she has ever heard.

She’s reading one of her library books- the last time Catalina had visited her, back when her parents were alive, she’d brought one of the series with her and read it aloud while they were waiting for lunch to be ready and she’d quite liked it, but now reading it for herself, she doesn’t recognise all the characters.

Catalina had read her a story about Juliana and Diane and George (who was really Georgina) and Anne and Timmy the Cat, who were cousins and had adventures on an island- but when she tries to read it for herself, the names are different and the children are different and it’s a dog not a cat, who keeps on licking everything and barking and it’s just not as good as before.

(She has no idea why the children decided to swap lovely clever Timmy the Cat for a horrible barky, licky, bitey dog. She thinks it was a bad decision.)

 She wonders if maybe she picked out something different.

Catalina has a big thick book that looks dusty.

‘What are you reading?’

‘Mmm?’ Catalina looks up and then nods as if she’s had to replay it in her head. ‘Oh!’ She says something in Spanish and then adds ‘But it’s called something else in English, of course.’

‘What’s it about?’

‘A little boy called Pip and all his adventures.’

‘What sort of adventures?’ She’s wondering if it will turn out that they’re the sort of adventures the children are having in her book and Catalina smiles.

‘No island, mija, you’d be disappointed. He meets an escaped prisoner out late one night and he helps him to cut off his chains and run away. And later he goes to a big old beautiful house, which has a room all ready for a wedding that never happened.’

‘That’s strange. If it never happened, then it’s not anything, so how can she have a room for it?’

‘They had everything ready but the groom didn’t turn up so the lady sits in her wedding dress next to her old cobwebby wedding cake all covered in dust and thinks about how sad she is.’

‘Oh.’ That sounds spooky but also interesting- she thinks maybe there’ll be an old cobwebby cake in her next scary story because for some reason, the idea of something that’s meant to be so happy being all forgotten and abandoned makes her feel shivery and she’s sure Anne and Anna will feel just the same way. Then she thinks of something else.

 ‘Why was he out at night at all? Not the prisoner but the little boy.’

Catalina looks uncomfortable for some reason. ‘I think he was just playing.’

‘But weren’t his parents worried about him?’

There’s a little pause and then Catalina says ‘He didn’t have any parents, querida.’

‘Oh. How old was he?’ Maybe the boy is nearly grown up, like in Secondary School.

‘Seven.’

She isn’t quite sure how she feels about that but she doesn’t feel like asking any more questions so there’s a little silence before Catalina says that she’s just finished the chapter.

‘I think I need a little break from reading.’ She puts her book down on the floor, face down. ‘Want to come and keep me company, mija?’

Cathy nods slowly and puts down her own book, except she uses a bookmark because she knows that’s the proper way to treat a book. 

(Catalina is hopeless with bookmarks and always refuses Cathy’s offers to lend her one.

‘I’d lose it in a moment mija, and then I would have so much guilt! But thank you, all the same.’

Cathy has big plans for when her class starts their textiles projects, in which Catalina’s poorly treated books AND her sad, bookmarkless state, feature quite heavily. But she’s keeping this a surprise.)

 She hasn’t finished her own chapter but she doesn’t like the way that these strange new characters keep telling George she isn’t allowed to do things because she’s a girl. She supposes it’s nice that Anne is allowed to cook- cooking on a real fire outside sounds very exciting- but she wonders if she ever gets tired of it.

‘It’s not the same as when you read it. They’re really horrible to George. And they don’t even have a cat anymore.’

She climbs up onto Catalina’s lap and Catalina wraps her arms around her.

‘I might have….changed some bits when I was reading it to you. I thought it would make the story better.’

‘It DID make the story better. Now it’s boring.’

Catalina considers. ‘I could try reading it to you my way if you like, querida.’

‘That’s ok. I think I’m going to take a break from reading too.’

‘Ok.’

Catalina cuddles her closer and for a while they just sit like that. She thinks about the little boy meeting the prisoner out at night, with no one to worry about him, but it’s not too bad to think about when she’s got Catalina’s cardigan tickling her cheek and Catalina’s chin resting on the top of her head. 

Maybe she’ll include a prisoner in her next story too. Maybe he could even team up with the little attic girl and they could go around scaring people and sewing up mouths together.

‘Did he have a godmother?’

‘Who?’

‘Pip. Oh- no, he didn’t. He had an older sister, he lived with her instead.’

‘Like Anne and Mary.’

‘Anne still has her parents, mija, you know that.’ But Catalina doesn’t sound so very certain when she says it.

There’s a little pause, and then Catalina quietly asks if she’d like to talk.

‘About what?’

‘About last night mija.’

‘What about last night?’

 She's being deliberately annoying but she can't help it because maybe if she carries on, Catalina will change her mind and they won’t have to talk about anything.

 She wouldn't even mind Catalina getting really cross (she doesn’t think), whatever really cross is for Catalina (because she still isn’t sure), but she doesn’t, just puts her book down and takes another sip of naslty bitter black coffee.

‘About the phone call we had.’ She pauses. ‘There's no need to look so worried querida- I promise you're not in trouble, I'm not going to tell you off- and we don't have to talk now if you really would rather not. It’s just that last night, we talked a bit about some of the things you were worried about. And about your mum and dad. I think it would be a good idea to talk about some of those things properly- not because i think it will fix them but….maybe it will make them a bit more ordinary to talk about them. And perhaps less scary. I don't know.’

She actually sounds a bit anxious, much less self assured than usual. Usually, Catalina talks like she knows exactly what she’s saying and why. Now she keeps stopping and starting, like she’s worried she’ll say something wrong.

‘I want you to feel like you can tell me anything- that there isn't anything you have to keep secret unless you want to. And you can always always talk to me. About anything you want. Ok?’

She nods. She wonders if Catalina really means anything- anything. 

‘Good, bad, sad, happy, whatever. And you can ask me anything, I don't want you to ever feel like you can't ask a question.’

Cathy thinks. ‘What if you can't tell me? What if it’s secret?’

Catalina smiles. ‘Then I will explain to you why I can’t tell you. But I won't be cross with you for asking, that’s the important thing. And I will always try to answer, if I can, alright?’

She nods again. ‘Will you tell the truth?’

‘Yes. It doesn't seem fair to ask you to be honest if I won’t be honest myself. And we do need to be honest with each other, mija. It's the only way.’

‘The only way for what?’

‘The only way to….keep our family going. Going smoothly, I mean. We’ll be a family whatever happens, of course, smooth or not.’

‘Are we a family?’ It’s a surprise to her- she’d sort of assumed that wasn't a word that applied to her any more, like Mother and Father and Parents.

‘Yes i think so.’ Catalina looks serious. ‘You and your Mum and Dad are still a family, of course. But you and I are a family too. At least I like to think we are. If that's ok with you of course.’

Cathy thinks about it. ‘If we’re a family, does that mean I have to call you Mum?’

Catalina looks shocked. ;Oh no! No, definitely not querida, I promise I'd never want to try and take your Mum’s name or place. I never at all meant that. I'm still your godmother- your Mum will always be your Mum. Not all families have a Mum and a Dad.’

‘Like in the story about Tango the Penguin.’ It’s a book she had when she was very little, but she can still remember the story.

‘Exactly.’ Actually, she thinks maybe Catalina sent her the book in the first place.

She could ask more questions about it- some that she’s mildly curious about, and some that she could probably make up if she felt like making this bit of the conversation stretch out longer...but she decides not too because Catalina is looking all anxious now and it's making her feel a bit guilty.

It’s alright- the thought of her and Catalina being a family is ok. She’d rather have Catalina for her family than anyone else, if she can't have mum and dad and she knows that she can't.

She wriggles into a more comfortable position in Catalina’s lap.

‘Ok. We can be a family.’

‘Good.’ Catalina smiles like she’s really relieved. ‘Good.’

After a while, she says, ‘There’s something I thought you might like to look at mija. I’ve been meaning to for a while and then last night, I thought of it.’

She stiffens slightly. She isn’t sure how she feels thinking about last night- one minute, the scary feeling seems very far away and all she can think about is stupid things like how babyish she must have sounded crying into the phone, and then the next, she can remember it very very well and it makes her feel shaky and sick, like she’s standing somewhere high and looking down. 

She buries her face into Catalina’s cardigan and then has to come back out because the fluff is making her sneeze and Catalina laughs and slides her gently off her lap and says she’ll be back in a moment.

She wraps both arms around her tummy, hugging herself and wondering what The Thing will be.

When Catalina comes back in, she’s holding an old shoebox.

[thejollyroger-writer]

Mixed-Up Metaphors, Messed-Up Makeup

a/n: this is the post-revival Gilmore Girls AU that nobody asked me to write (except Devon), written specifically for her birthday. so, @shireness-says​, this is for you. happy birthday, friend. 

Summary: Rory is pregnant, lost, and looking for something deeper to tie her to Storybrooke. (surprise: it’s Jess Mariano)

Rated G // 7K // also on ao3

(Thanks to @hollyethecurious​ and @let-it-raines​ for helping me figure this out and giving me someone to chat with about writing it, since I obviously couldn’t go to Devon this time) 

WEEK TEN

Jess Mariano never asks anything of her. Some days, Rory can swear that he’s the only person who wants nothing from her. And it is simply for this reason that she invites him to sit with her in her office as many days as he’s allowed, after meeting him for breakfast at Luke’s. Because, unlike everyone else in Stars’ Hollow, Jess seems content sitting in the corner of her office, reading his next book or tapping away on his laptop, working on his own novel, or on something else. 

Sometimes, when she knows she is going to have a particularly boring day, she asks him to come with her. Usually, she does not, and it is just another unspoken agreement for him to show up a few hours after breakfast, toting a to-go bag and a cup of coffee.

Usually, they sit in almost-silence, one of them playing some music softly in the background, every once in a while asking a question about word choice or the order of a sentence, or Jess reading a sentence or a section from that day’s selection. 

And then, the morning sickness starts. Usually, she is able to control it before she leaves to meet him for breakfast, hoping that he doesn’t realize her change in appetite. 

(He does. He just doesn’t say anything.) 

It’s not like she doesn’t want to tell him. Hell, there is the slight possibility that the baby is his anyway, after one of the few nights they spent together when she came back to Stars’ Hollow, nights that they have wordlessly decided to completely ignore but that sometimes still happen when she finds herself in his arms late at night, sometimes even forgetting how she got there. 

She just… doesn’t know how to tell him. Because what if it’s not his, which is just as likely? It’s not like she needs anything from him, expects anything from him, even if it is his. Though, she knows deep down, that no matter what the case is, if she told him that she wanted him to be a part of this child’s life — which she does — he would do it. 

That’s part of the reason she lo —

She cares about him so much. 

These are the thoughts swirling through her already-chaotic mind when she feels her stomach begin to churn, a feeling that she can sometimes control. 

This does not seem to be one of those times. 

Jess, of course, notices the change in her almost immediately — the way she is breathing, the redness of her face, her straighter posture, the moments of fear that pass through her eyes when she fears she may not be able to control it. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, finally breaking the thick silence that has fallen around her. In her chest, her heart pounds wildly, hard enough for her to feel it in her stomach, and all she can do before pushing herself out of the office chair and crossing the room, hoping to at least make it into the bathroom, is shake her head, trying to combat the tears that always come with her failing gag reflex. 

Shit. 

“Do you want my help?” he calls, and though she did not hear the pounding of his boots against the fake hardwood, he sounds much closer to the cracked bathroom door than his usual perch. 

“No!” 

(Didn’t people always say that they loved being pregnant? How is that the case when she has been starting every morning by losing the contents of her stomach? When she has felt nauseous non-stop for the last eight weeks? She thought this was supposed to be fun.) 

Her bathroom stay is short-lived, at least. (On the bright side of getting sick all the time is her stomach’s — the baby’s — ability to pick and choose what it wants to keep and what it wants to get rid of, and this morning is only seems angry about the apple she ate on her way over here. 

Ironic.)

She gives herself another minute to calm down, to splash cold water on her hands and her face and try to get her heart rate back to a normal human’s number. She’s so overwhelmed by making herself feel better that she almost forgets that he’s waiting for her outside the door, silent and patient and — why does he have to be like that? 

Slowly — oh my god, so slowly — she opens the door to the bathroom, as if putting off the action will somehow stop the conversation she knows she is about to have. (Maybe if I spend enough time in the bathroom, he’ll just… leave, she tells herself, but even as she has the thought, she shakes her head with the ridiculousness of it.) 

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. She can’t even bring herself to look at him, putting all of her attention instead on her feet as they cross the worn-down floor back to her desk, left, right, left, right. 

And then… he still doesn’t say anything. He sits, silently, in his chair, and she can feel that his eyes never leave hers. But he says nothing, which manages to drive her absolutely insane, stuck with only her own thoughts and the pounding of her heart and that stupid rattling pipe in the corner, the cars on the street outside, the chattering of passerby, her blood rushing through her ears, that damn pipe — 

“I’m pregnant,” she says finally, the words practically exploding out of her. 

Silently, he nods, but she doesn’t miss the slight widening of his eyes, the gentle parting of his lips. 

She can swear that her heart actually stops beating. What if this is too much for him? What if I’ve just totally screwed up absolutely everything, and he’s going to pack up his things and leave, leave the office and leave Stars’ Hollow and never talk to me again— 

“Okay.” She almost doesn’t catch the word, barely more than a breath on his lips, but it is the brightness of his eyes that really catches her attention, suddenly, all at once. “Are you okay? What can I do to help?” 

She is useless against the way her jaw falls slack. “What?” 

He narrows his eyes at her, as if he doesn’t understand her confusion. 

“I mean, you’re sick, right? Is there anything I can do? Do you need some water, something to eat? Do you have a stash of Saltines somewhere?” 

She’s… 

Speechless. Shocked. In awe. Dumbstruck. Without words. 

Alright, so maybe with words. But certainly not the right ones. 

He’s… has he always been like this? Has he always cared so much? 

She knows the answer, though she also knows that she’s been trying to avoid the same knowledge for almost as long as she’s been back in Stars’ Hollow. Honestly, (though, really, she hates being honest with herself), it shouldn’t surprise her as much as it does, his heartwarming, caring demeanor, his immediate jump to help her, to be there for her. 

If there wasn’t a large wooden desk between them — if she even had the energy to jump up in the first place — she may have even found herself quickly crossing the room to kiss him. Maybe. 

For now, though, all she does is smile, reaching down to open the bottom drawer of her desk, where she pulls a water bottle and a pack of saltines from. 

He smiles back — warm, genuine, glad that she seems to be content at the moment. “Good,” he says, his attention moving back towards the book resting in his lap. “Let me know if you need my help.” 

It’s a loaded statement, and even as his eyes begin moving across the words on the page, Rory sits in her chair watching him, slowly eating a few saltines from the open pack. Does he know just how much that one question could mean? How many of those meanings did he actually mean? Is she overthinking this? 

Of course she’s overthinking this, and she knows that — and something about the shadow of a smirk that grows on his lips, his eyes still on the book as he turns the page, makes her pretty sure that he knows she’s overthinking it, too. 

WEEK 16

She’s been trying to ask Jess for help for two weeks now, since she decided this is something she wants to do. She just… doesn’t know how. Will he even want to do it? Will he be mad at her because she wants to do it? 

What will her mother think?

What will Logan think?

She’s taken to spending most nights with Jess in the apartment above Luke’s instead of back in her old bedroom, constantly under the watchful eyes of both Lorelai and Luke. Jess asking her if she’s eaten today is caring, done in a much less agitated tone, while all she gets at home is nagging and food shoved in her direction. 

“It’s almost as if your mother has forgotten what it’s like to be pregnant,” Jess tells her very helpfully one night after she came to the apartment with her laptop, her pajamas, and a brown paper bag full of vegetables that she knows her mother never ate while pregnant. 

“Well, I need her to remember,” Rory had huffed, falling backwards onto the couch, her hands on her stomach — a poise she’s found herself in more often lately, with the small human growing inside her just starting to make itself more obvious. 

At the moment, Jess has settled in at his spot at the counter, tossing together some sort of chicken stir-fry with ingredients that he found in the back of his freezer and the pantry. Rory never would have guessed just how much he liked to cook, especially wouldn’t have assumed that he’s so good at it — but she supposes it’s also something she’s never been able to take for granted, since everyone knows Lorelai is certainly no master chef. 

Can you help me with something? The words are on the tip of her tongue, begging to be released as she watches him expertly cut the chicken breasts into strips, a few strands of his now-longer hair falling away from his forehead. 

(She’s not sure how she feels about his hair, though she does appreciate the fact that he looks older, unsure of whether it’s because of the hair or the stubble or just his overall older-feeling aura. She hasn’t mentioned anything to him — it’s certainly not her place, as his… 

What are they, anyway? On the nights when her loneliness has been the strongest, she’s spent the night sharing his bed with him, not complaining when he rolled towards her in the middle of the night, wrapped his arm around her stomach, his breath on her back. But they haven’t discussed it, Rory not even sure that she wants to. Would it ruin the content feeling that washes over her when she walks into the apartment, when he smiles at her from across the room, when she secretly wakes when he does, much earlier than she needs to in order to help open the restaurant, and feels the hitching of his breath when he realizes that he has once again unconsciously wrapped himself around her?) 

“It’s hard to concentrate when you’re staring a hole through my head,” he says finally, not even raising his eyes from the cutting board as he breaks the almost-silence of the apartment. 

“Sorry,” she mumbles, but he just smiles. 

“Obviously you’re thinking about something.” 

It’s not a question, she can tell that much. He’s not really asking her to divulge whatever she is obviously thinking about, but she takes it as an invitation nonetheless. 

“I think I need to tell Logan.” 

This makes him stop working, set the knife down on the cutting board, turn his eyes up to meet hers. “Yeah?” 

She just nods. 

“If that’s what you want to do, I’m not going to talk you out of it.” 

“He’s going to want to know if it’s his.” 

Just as the words pass through her lips, she realizes that this very subject is something they haven’t discussed yet. Jess takes a deep breath, stepping away from the counter. For a moment, Rory fears the worst, that he is going to leave her with her spiraling thoughts — but instead he washes his hands in the sink before walking to her, reaching out to take her hands. His are cold, a side effect from the chicken that the hot water didn’t manage to wash away entirely, but Rory doesn’t really care — just the feel of them in hers warms her from the inside out. 

“He has a right to know that,” he says, trying not to let his own disappointment reach his face, Rory can tell somehow. 

“Do you want to know?” The question falls from her lips without her permission, but once it’s out, she almost feels a sense of relief. 

He squeezes her hands. “For me, knowing changes nothing. I’m here for you, for this one, for as long as you’ll let me, but the genetic makeup means nothing in relation to how I feel about you. You have to know that.” 

“He’s going to make me find out.” 

Now, it’s not affection that passes across Jess’ face, but something much darker. “Rory, he can’t make you do anything. If his desire to have anything to do with this kid’s life is dependent upon a genetic test and not—” 

“I kind of want to know, though,” she admits to someone beside herself for the first time. 

Jess nods. “If that’s what you want, then I’m not going to stop you. Make the appointment, I’ll go with you.” 

WEEK 20

“Now what do we do?” Rory asks, holding the paper loosely between her fingers. 

“It’s up to you, you know that,” he says, his voice as gentle as the hand placed on her lower back. She knows that he said he won’t be upset either way, knows that it doesn’t change the way he feels, but she can tell that he’s at least a little let down. 

“We decided that if it confirmed Logan was the father, I would tell him.” 

“It’s your decision, Rory,” he says, his voice soft, caring — more than he has the right to be. “Seeing the results of the test don’t change the fact that it’s still completely up to you.” 

I love you, she almost says. The words tickle the tip of her tongue, which she quickly clamps between her teeth, almost hard enough to draw blood. It’s not the first time she’s had the thought, but it is the closest she has come to actually speaking the words. 

It doesn’t help that they’re still avoiding the subject of what exactly they want from each other. Okay, maybe avoiding isn’t the right word, because Rory is pretty sure that he’s not doing it on purpose. What she thinks he’s doing instead is giving her space, time to think, not pushing her by asking what she can only hope spends as much time on his mind as it does on hers — but it’s also, simultaneously, driving her absolutely insane. He wants to be with her, he’s made that obvious enough more times than she can count — has been doing so for almost as long as she’s known him — but has always let her take the lead, always made sure that she was the first one to make the move. 

She just… doesn’t know how to do it. She does know that this moment specifically is not the time for it. 

“He still deserves to know.” 

Jess just nods. Takes half a step back from her, his hand still ghosting against her back, so light that she would forget it was there if not for the intense heat that he is always letting off. 

“Then let’s call him.” 

The words set a weight on her shoulders that she doesn’t know what to do with, make her back hurt a little more than it already has been, somehow. 

“I need—” she says, her breath suddenly much harder to catch than moments before. “I need to sit down,” she manages, maneuvering through the kitchen and into the living room before plopping herself down on the couch. 

“Do you want some water?” 

She just nods, hoping that he is paying enough attention to catch it. Either he does, or he just gets her a glass anyway, appearing beside her what feels like moments later with it in his hand.

I love you, she almost says again, but what really comes out of her mouth is, “I can’t do this.” 

“Of course you can,” he responds, resting his hand on her knee — again, gently, with more care than he needs to, and, again, somehow radiating heat, even with her own body heating with her inability to catch her breath.

“No. No. What if he— what if he refuses to stay out of it? What if he insists on coming here, on leaving his pretty little princess fiance and his high class life and moves to Stars Hollow just to spite me, just because he insists he deserves to be around when it’s very literally the very last thing I want?” 

“Rory, listen to what you’re saying. This is Logan we’re talking about, a man who never compromised anything for anyone—” 

“But he’s changed since you last—”

“Changed enough to leave behind everything he knows, his entire holier-than-thou world, to move to this shitty little town?” 

“Jess!” 

“I’m serious! When was the last time he has ever sacrificed anything for anyone, done something for anyone other than himself?” 

She takes a breath, coming slightly easier now, and releases it slowly. Then another. 

“He has no right to be here with you in the first place, Rory,” Jess says finally. “He wouldn’t change his plans for you in college and wouldn’t leave his fiance for you now. He may fight to see this kid every once in a while, to at least not be barred completely from its life, but in every other sense of the word, it’s ours, okay?” 

This is the first time he’s said that. Said anything even remotely like that. Every other time it’s been hers — her baby, her decision, her comfort. It may not be the words she’s been wanting to say, the questions that have been keeping her up at night, even when she’s wrapped in his arms, but it’s something. And even that feels huge. 

Nodding, she takes another breath and pulls her cell phone out of her back pocket. She places her other hand on top of his, still resting on her knee. “Let’s do this.” 

He answers on the second ring, moments after Rory realizes both that time zones are a thing and that she has absolutely no idea which one he’s in. 

“Rory?” He has the audacity to almost sound excited to hear from her. 

“Hey.” For a moment, it’s all she can muster, thinking about just hanging up instead of going through with the rest of it. Her fear must be painted across her face, because when she turns to Jess, he just ticks one side of his lips up in a smile, squeezing her knee gently. 

“Is everything okay?” Logan asks, at the same moment Rory manages, “How are you? Did I wake you up?” 

“No, no,” he says, “I’m in New York right now, weirdly enough, and I was--I’m gonna be honest with you, I was just thinking about you.” 

“Oh.” 

“Are you okay?” he says again, after a beat passes. 

“Well, no. I mean, yeah, but— listen, Logan, can you—can you just let me talk for a minute? Please?” 

“Uh, yeah. O-okay, sure.” 

She sighs, loudly, through her teeth, which she’s sure Logan heard on the other end of the line. She doesn’t really care. 

“I’m pregnant. Five months. There’s a chance that it wasn’t yours, that it— happened after I got home, but we did all the tests and stuff and it — well, it is, it’s yours, and I just felt like you had the right to know, even though I don’t want or expect or— whatever — anything from you. I’m staying here, with—” somehow, her brain makes the snap decision not to mention Jess. “In Stars Hollow, at home with my family where I’m comfortable, and you don’t — there’s nothing you have to do, I don’t even — you don’t even have to come meet it when it’s born, but I just thought that you should know.” 

Silence. Long, devastating, heart-pounding silence. 

When he finally speaks, it’s quiet, though Rory has the feeling that it’s to hide the words from someone around him and not because he’s been rendered speechless: “And you don’t… want to be with me?” 

“God, Logan, seriously?” She half-wishes he could see the way she rolls her eyes at his question. Maybe he can even hear it in her voice. Jess lets out a breathy laugh. “You’ve spent years not choosing me, not even believing that I could be your first choice, you’ve hurt me more times than I could count, have chosen yourself and others over me since we were young, and you think this is suddenly going to erase all of that? Finally, I’m doing something that makes me happy, doing something for myself, I’m with someone who accepts my decisions and wants what’s best for me, for the baby, and not for himself — do you even know how to do that?” 

Silence. Again. 

“You’re with somebody else?” 

She sighs. That’s the part he’s caught up on? She wants to be surprised. But she can’t. “Yes.” 

“If you hadn’t done the tests, hadn’t decided to figure out if it was —  would you still have called me?” 

“No.” 

Silence. 

“How did you expect me to respond?” 

“I told you, Logan, I’ve learned not to expect anything from you. We just felt like you had the right to know.” 

“Mm-hmm,” he hums, enough anger behind the sound that Rory can feel it in her bloodstream. “And who is we? Do I have the right to know who will be raising my child?” 

She expected a few things from this phone call. She expected to be overwhelmed. She expected Logan to ask her a few questions. She even half-expected to get upset with him. But what she didn’t expect was anger. 

“You know what? No, I really don’t have to tell you that, do I? I really don’t have to tell you anything, actually. I’ll make sure someone contacts you when it’s born, because you have the right to know that, I guess, but until then? Goodbye, Logan.” 

It’s one of those moments that she wishes phones still had the ability to slam, because angrily pressing the little red “end call” button doesn’t adequately portray just how angry she is at him. Tossing the phone onto the couch next to her makes her feel a little better, though not quite enough. 

“See,” Jess says after a moment, taking his hand off her knee just to wrap his arm around her shoulder. “I knew you had it in you.” 

It’s as if the phone call has awakened some sense of fearlessness in her, and between the adrenaline rush and her new-found freedom, she feels unstoppable: 

“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?” 

Watching the collection of expressions that pass across his face manages to pull a smile to Rory’s face. 

The stuttering that follows, even moreso. 

“I just — I wanted you — to make sure — I didn’t want—” 

“Jess,” she says, turning her shoulders to face him more head-on, and his words stop when she places her hand against his cheek. “Please, just stop talking.” 

First, he smiles, stretching the arm he has laying across her shoulder to run his thumb across her cheek. And then, finally, he does it. Softly, sweetly, gently — everything he has proven himself to be over the past few months. Everything Rory needed him to be. Everything. 

WEEK 21

“So, I, uh, talked to Logan a few days ago,” Rory says, stirring the sugar into the cup of (decaf) coffee sitting on the table in front of her. 

Lorelai almost loses the sip that is in her mouth, covering her face with the back of her hand, eyes wide. “Rory! You can’t just drop a line like that on someone with a mouth full of coffee.” 

Rory lets out her own laugh, taking another bite from her plate of chocolate chip pancakes. “Sorry! But look, I— I just thought you should know. Man, what was the last thing I updated you on? Did I tell you that we decided to do the paternity test?” 

“Uh, no!” she says, her eyes growing wider still. “How did you not tell me this?”

She shrugs. “I mean, I probably decided to wait until we got the results to tell you, I guess, so now—”

“Wait, wait, let me guess,” she says, holding her hand up between them. Rory rolls her eyes, but gestures for her mother to continue. “If you had to call Logan, then I’m assuming that means Jess is not the father.”

Rory sighs, and, taking another bite of her pancakes, nods. “Bingo.” 

“And how does Jess feel about all of this?” 

Heat rushes to her cheeks, but even that doesn’t stop the smile from forming on her lips. 

Her suddenly-trembling lips. 

“He says it doesn’t change anything,” she says, trying to swallow the lump that’s risen up her throat. “That he still, you know, wants to be with me, wants to help raise the baby, but, I mean, it had to have at least brought his spirits down a little.” 

“It’s a true sign of his feelings, though,” she says, as if it’s not something Rory’s been obsessing over since… 

Since when? Since they got the test results in the mail? 

Since they decided to get the test done in the first place? 

Since she told him she was pregnant in the first place? 

She knows that all of these are wrong, though. She knows that she has been obsessing over Jess’ feelings since the first time she saw him when she came back to Stars’ Hollow. 

“Can we change the subject? Please?” she asks, just in time to hear the door at the back of the restaurant open. By now, it’s a sound that she would know anywhere, followed by the knowing pound of Jess’ boots against the hardwood floors. 

“Your grandmother wants to throw you a baby shower,” Lorelai says, trying her best to ignore the way Rory’s eyes follow Jess through the restaurant, but the way she smiles as he approaches the table, as he presses his lips against her forehead, still pulls a smile to her face. 

“Did you hear that, Jess?” Rory asks. “Mrs. Emily Gilmore is going to throw us a baby shower.” 

“When?” 

Lorelai finds herself surprised by his lack of a sarcastic comment — though, she supposes, maybe he has grown up a bit. 

“That’s what we were about to figure out, actually.” 

“Well, she wants to have it on a Sunday, she says it’s more proper that way.”

“Is she going to let us be in charge of the guest list, or is she going to want to invite her friends?” 

“She seemed to sound like she wanted you to make all the decisions, maybe let her feel like she’s in charge of a few things, and she’ll foot the bill.” 

“Good ol’ Emily Gilmore,” Rory mumbles, taking a sip of her coffee. “But yeah, that sounds — I can do that, I’ll give her a call later.” 

 Between Emily’s other proper Sunday events and the few that Jess has to spend in video calls with the publishing company — the agreement he was able to bring them to after the weekends on the road became too much for him (for Rory, really) — they decide on a Sunday two months down the road, Emily being surprisingly lenient with Rory’s wanting to have it at the Dragonfly Inn, and to have it catered by Sookie. 

(“Whatever you want, dear, it’s your baby shower,” she kept saying, though Rory could almost hear the passive-aggressive smile that she knows was spread across her face.) 

WEEK 24

“Would it be weird if I read to him?” Jess asks one night, Rory’s head in his lap as they both type away on their laptops, Jess’ current favorite indie British band softly playing from the speakers of his. 

Instead of answering the question, Rory asks one of her own: “What makes you so sure it’s a him?” 

He shrugs, pausing his work to place his hand on Rory’s ever-growing stomach. “I just have a feeling, you know?” he says, spreading his fingers wide. 

Rory can’t help but smile. 

“I mean, I don’t think it would be weird at all. I’m pretty sure that’s even one of those things that — I don’t know — that you’re supposed to do?” 

“But, I’m talking about, like, Ginsberg. Plath. Frost. Short stories from the New Yorker. Atwood.”

“You can’t just read, you know, normal baby things, huh?”

“All we’re going to be able to do once they understand what we’re reading is read nursery rhymes and Dr. Seuss. Let me enjoy something exciting while I still have the time.” 

“What, you’re not a big fan of Fox in Socks? What about Guess How Much I Love You? The Very Hungry Caterpillar?”

“Rory, come on, I’m serious.” 

“Yeah, me, too!”

For a moment, they just stare at each other. I love you, she thinks again, less surprising every time she tastes the words on the tip of her tongue, but she’s still biting them back. Jess has let her take the lead for everything else, she wants to give him this one. Instead, she decides on, “Oh, my god, you’re impossible.” He smiles first, though, and she is quick to return it. “But fine, yes, okay. If the thing you want the most is to start introducing this baby to American beat poets early, then I suppose I won’t stop you.” 

They start with Frost — “He still rhymes, you know,” Rory teases him as he pages through his worn copy of Mountain Interval to find what he’s looking for — but Jess has only made it through the first few lines of “Birches” before Rory finds herself nodding off, both exhausted and lulled by Jess’ reading voice: 

“When I see birches bend to left and right

Across the lines of straighter darker trees,

I like to think some boy's been swinging them.

But swinging doesn't bend them down to stay

As ice-storms do. Often you must have seen them

Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning

After a rain. They click upon themselves

As the breeze rises, and turn many-colored

As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel.”

But even with Rory’s eyes closing, with her quickly approaching unconsciousness, he doesn’t stop. He even goes back to his work for a while after the second poem, letting her sleep soundly next to him on the couch until he finds himself unable to keep his eyes open, and he rouses her only to move her to the bed. 

 After a week of Frost, next comes is Plath: “The Moon and the Yew Tree,” “Letter in November,” “The Munich Mannequins.” Unlike Frost, though, Plath does not put Rory to sleep. 

 For a few days, he reads pieces of a story from the New Yorker called “The Largesse of the Sea Maiden” — a piece that he was, ironically, supposed to write a review for but hadn’t yet found the time to focus on enough. Rory doesn’t particularly like it, but she does feel the little person inside her more often when Jess reads, though it’s not to a point where he can feel it yet, even with his and pressed against the taut skin of her stomach. 

 And then, finally, Rory lets him start Ginsberg. “A Supermarket in California” — “What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whitman, for I walked down the streets under the trees with a headache self-conscious looking at the full moon.” Somehow, it just works so beautifully with his voice, really makes her feel Ginsberg in a way she never had before. In a way she never really needed to, honestly, but one that she certainly isn’t upset about. 

“Cia Dope Calypso”: “In nineteen hundred forty-nine / China was won by Mao Tse-tung / Chiang Kai Shek's army ran away. / They were waiting there in Thailand yesterday. Supported by the CIA. Pushing junk down Thailand way.” 

“Cosmopolitan Greetings” — Rory’s favorite, if she ever needed to have one — “Stand up against governments, against God. Stay irresponsible. Say only what we know & imagine. Absolutes are Coercion. Change is absolute.” 

It’s a week before she lets him break out Howl — and she doesn’t tell him right away, but she can already feel the baby ready itself for their almost-nightly poetry slam, as if they already know what is about to happen. She made him agree that they would split Howl into three nights, three sections, the way it is supposed to be, but that doesn’t stop the hypnosis that takes over as soon as he cracks the book open. 

“I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, / dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix, / angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night, / who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz,” he says, his voice picking up every syllable as if he wrote the words himself, and Rory is caught. 

There’s no going back now, either with Ginsberg or with Jess. 

“... who were expelled from the academies for crazy & publishing obscene odes on the windows of the skull…”

“... who chained themselves to subways for the endless ride from Battery to holy Bronx on benzedrine until the noise of wheels and children brought them down shuddering mouth-wracked and battered bleak of brain all drained of brilliance in the drear light of Zoo…”

“... who disappeared into the volcanoes of Mexico leaving behind nothing but the shadow of dungarees and the lava and ash of poetry scattered in fireplace Chicago…” 

“... who wept at the romance of the streets with their pushcarts full of onions and bad music, who sat in boxes breathing in the darkness under the bridge, and rose up to build harpsichords in their lofts, who coughed on the sixth floor of Harlem crowned with flame under the tubercular sky surrounded by orange crates of theology…” 

“... who sang out of their windows in despair, fell out of the subway window, jumped in the filthy Passaic, leaped on negroes, cried all over the street, danced on broken wineglasses barefoot smashed phonograph records of nostalgic European 1930s German jazz finished the whiskey and threw up groaning into the bloody toilet, moans in their ears and the blast of colossal steamwhistles…” 

And then, it happened. 

One kick. Jess isn’t even sure that’s what he felt. 

“... who barreled down the highways of the past journeying to each other’s hotrod-Golgotha jail-solitude watch or Birmingham jazz incarnation, who drove cross country seventy two hours to find out if I had a vision or you had a vision or he had a vision to find out Eternity,…” 

Another. Okay, he’s more sure now. Especially as it happens again.

“... who journeyed to Denver, who died in Denver, who came back to Denver & waited in vain, who watched over Denver & brooded & loned in Denver and finally went away to find out the Time, & now Denver is lonesome for her heroes—” 

“I don’t know, Jess,” Rory says, stopping him from continuing, and though he isn’t sure why she stopped, he’s very sure that what he’s now feeling is the movement of the baby. “I think maybe they like Ginsberg as much as you do.” 

But his mind just keeps going back to that last line he read. Instead of responding, he reads it again: “who journeyed to Denver, who died in Denver, who came back to Denver & waited in vain, who watched over Denver & brooded & loned in Denver and finally went away to find out the Time, & now Denver is lonesome for her heroes,” — and, yes, the baby kicks again. 

An almost-violent movement, pushing some of the skin of Rory’s stomach around with the movement, but she doesn’t seem to care, her attention focused solely on the smile that continues to spread wider across his face. 

“Not only that,” he says, setting the book spine-up on the arm of the couch so he can run the fingers of his other hand through Rory’s hair, not daring to move his hand from the spot that the baby seems to be targeting, “But I think they may have just chosen their name, too.” 

“What? Allen? Certainly not Ginsberg, that’s how you destin a child for a life of torture—” 

“No, no, none of those,” he says, shaking his head. “Besides, I may have a feeling that it’s a boy, but that doesn’t mean the name choice needs to be so certain.” 

“Jess, just tell me what you’re thinking.” 

“Denver.” 

Surprisingly — really, he certainly didn’t expect it to happen again — he feels the push against his hand, the movement of the baby just as he says it. 

“Denver,” she repeats — and they do it again. 

She smiles. “Do you need to finish reading the poem, or can you just kiss me now?” 

WEEK 30 

“So, Rory, can you tell us about Denver?” She’s actually a little surprised that the question comes from Miss Patty and not from the prying mind of Emily Gilmore. “How did you guys come up with the name?” 

Of course, she had the thought a moment too soon, and this is when her grandmother decided to speak up: “How they picked a name without even knowing the gender is beyond me.” 

“Mom,” Lorelai says, turning towards Emily with her eyes wide. 

Jess rolls his eyes, doesn’t even try to hide it from the other guests at the shower. 

Lane laughs from her seat on the other side of Rory. 

“It’s from a poem,” Rory says, trying to ignore everything else going on around her, her hand on Jess’ knee. 

“Now there’s a surprise.” This time, it’s Paris with the sarcastic comment. 

“A famous poem?” Liz asks from across the room, where Jess was sure that she wasn’t actually paying attention, sitting on her cell phone. He’s surprised, but thankful that she actually seems to care. 

“Depends on who you ask,” Jess says truthfully. 

“You guys can’t just pick a normal name from a normal poem, can you?” Paris asks — and this time, Rory rolls her eyes. 

“Why, what’s the poem?” Luke asks, his patience cut short by the collection of women (plus Christopher, who everyone knows is far from his favorite person) around him. 

“It’s called Howl,” Jess answers. 

Paris scoffs. 

Jess rolls his eyes. 

“Seriously, Gilmore?” Paris asks, completely ignoring Jess’ pointed glare. 

“What?” Emily and Rory ask at the same time, but in very different tones. “Is there something wrong with that poem?” Emily asks, already judging Jess before she’s even given the answer. 

“No,” Rory and Jess say together. 

Paris rolls her eyes. “I wish I was surprised.” 

“Lorelai,” Emily scoffs, turning to her daughter as if there is something she can do in this situation. 

“What? What could I possibly do that would make you happy about this? They’ve already picked out the name.” 

“It’s just not the most appropriate for children, that’s all,” Paris adds, possibly seeing that argument that she almost started. 

“What, you expect me to start reading nursery rhymes before the kid can even understand what I’m saying? I would think you would be smart enough to know that’s wrong, Gellar.” 

“Maybe I’ll just start calling you Ginsberg.” 

“What does that mean?” Emily asks, either trying and failing to whisper to Lorelai, or knowing exactly how loud her voice is.

“It’s the poet, grandma,” Rory answers. 

"Maybe you should just read us the poem, honey," Liz suggests, rather unhelpfully. 

"Good idea," Like agrees. 

"That's a terrible idea," Paris (unhelpfully) argues. 

"Well, is it long?" Michel finally speaks up, simply enjoying the banter from the sidelines to this point. 

"It's published as a novel," Rory tells them all. 

Jess, of course, has to argue for Ginsberg. "Yeah, but not, like, a full-length novel." 

"That doesn't mean you need to read it at the baby shower," Lane agrees. 

"You're naming your child after this poem, the least you could do is share it with us," Emily argues.

And that's how Jess wound up reading all of Part One of Howl at the baby shower. 

When he's done, no one speaks for a moment. 

Emily is, of course, the first to speak. "Well, that was awful." 

"Mom!" "Grandma!" 

"I mean, she's not wrong," Luke — unhelpfully — agrees. 

"For once, I agree with the man," Michel — unhelpfully — adds. 

Thankfully (Rory supposes), that's the most chaotic part of the shower. 

 As people start leaving, Luke pulls Jess aside away from the crowd, stopping from loading the new gifts into the trucks parked by the side door to the Inn. 

"What are you doing?" He seems angry, which confuses Jess. 

"What are you talking about?" 

"Why haven't you asked her to move in with you yet?"

Jess is, to say the least, a little flabbergasted. "Is that what you want?" 

"Come on, Jess, you know this isn't about me. It's about you, it's about her, and it's about this baby." 

"I mean, she hasn't said anything about it." 

"Listen, I know you're letting her take the lead on everything, but sometimes you just have to take a leap of faith." 

Jess runs his hand through his hair — a little shorter than it's been recently, at Rory's request. He's only gotten compliments about it in the two weeks since it's happened, though, so he's assuming Rory isn't the only one who prefers it this way.

She's the only one that matters, though. She always has been. 

"What if she doesn't want to? If she thinks it's too much?" He almost doesn't ask the question — because it really is the main reason he hasn't asked her yet, despite all the times he's wanted to. The fear of denial. 

Luke almost laughs. "Then she'll continue to spend every night with you above the restaurant while still refusing to believe that she's not really living with us anymore." 

Jess contemplates this for a moment, silent. It's not that he doesn't want her to move in, doesn't want to raise the baby together, hopefully affording something more exciting than the apartment over the restaurant in the near future. 

Is it really what's best for the baby? 

"It would be easier to take everything there now than to have to move it all later," Luke comments, then slides his hat back over his slowly-greying hair. "I'll just leave you with that thought." 

But there's nothing more for Jess to think about, looking across the room to where Rory is standing between her mother and Paris, a smile spread over her face and her hands over her growing stomach. 

In just a few large strides, he crosses the room, pausing for a moment to let Sookie snap a picture of them with Lorelai's cell phone. "Rory, can I ask you something?" he asks, gesturing for her to walk with him. 

Smiling, she nods. "Of course. What's up?" 

He just goes for it. Rips off the band-aid in one fell swoop, or something like that. 

"I think it would be easier if we just took all of Denver's stuff to the apartment." 

"But there's more room for it at the house." She doesn't pick up on what he's trying to say. (He's not really surprised.) 

"We can make room for it." 

"But why?" 

"It would be much easier to just have everything in one place, don't you think?" 

"Some of my stuff is at the house, though." 

"Then we move what you need to the apartment, too." 

Finally — finally — she seems to understand, a huge smile spread across her face once the realization gets to her. 

"Yeah, okay," she says cooly, trying to hold herself together.

[blissfulalchemist]

Can I have RowanChance for the OTP thing, my dear? 😘

Okay I managed to get this one done just before I have to get ready for work. Just like with you and WrenWes this will be more from Chance’s view. I tried though. 

Rowan x Chance

General:

Rate the Ship -  

Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! This is new and I am loveing it!| Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs

How long will they last? - This could really be a long term relationship. Chance doesn’t hold his breath or want to think about it ending because that’s not really helpful to anyone. He wants to enjoy the moment. I’m sure Rowan forever the optimist sees this going till the end.

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - Okay listen, Chance falls fast for people, he doesn’t say anything until he’s sure that’s what he feels. Chance starts to feel in love by like the fourth or fifth date but won’t say anything about it until a few months in. Rowan most likely said it first.

How was their first kiss? - Third date Chance “hears” something in the distance and moves them behind a tree. Tells Rowan that they should kiss to hide from whatever creature he comes up with on the spot better. It’s soft and warm mixed with smiles both knowing how it didn’t need to be that elaborate.

Wedding:

Who proposed? - Chance isn’t scared of commitment but he’s not really one to want to get married. There will forever be this fear that it’ll end badly if they do, that the curse is going to hit another generation. Rowan seems better adjusted and will instead opt for a proposal of long term commitment for Chance. So like instead of “Will you marry me?” it’s more “Will you join me on this adventure forever?”

Who is the best man/men? - Chance would have Wheaty as the best man, other groomsmen would be Hurk Jr and Sharky, who promise that they don’t have fireworks hidden on them. 

Who is the braid’s maid(s)? - I mean Wren obviously. She’s also the one to officiate.

Bonus: Boomer is the ring bearer.

Who did the most planning? - It wasn’t a very big thing there wasn’t much planning involved, though Chance got overwhelmed and let Rowan do most of it helping where he could and needed too.

Who stressed the most? - Chance. He has a hard time letting go of the feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop. He also just wants the day to be everything Rowan wanted. 

How fancy was the ceremony? - Not the fanciest, it was optional to wear super fancy dress wear. Chance wore a nice suit, one his dad would wear to functions to present findings at and he would also have his grandfather’s formal ring as his commitment ring. Rowan would wear a lovely white dress with accents of dark green.

Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 This ceremony was never meant to be big, and became bigger than Chance anticipated, like he thought just the two of them wheaty and wren, but it had nice touches and felt like something formal while being outdoors. For sure happened out in the Whitetails in Rowan’s favorite spot.| Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - Eli. Chance doesn’t know a ton of people, basically if he didn’t think to invite you then that should say something.

Sex:

Who is on top? - Both, though Rowan a little more so. 

Who is the one to instigate things? - Chance once comfortable will always love to have his hands on Rowan which turns to teasing that then turns to more. 

How healthy is their sex life? - Healthy, Chance is always up for some and even when they get busy the two like to make sure there’s some time in there for fun. 

Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 Minimum once a week but there is no objection to more, I am also going to count just anything that ends in orgasm as sex because at the end of the day that’s what matters most.| 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

How kinky are they? - Chance has done...well a lot….he’s down to try anything once. He let’s Ro set the pace on it though.

Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 Look again Chance has done a lot and tried different things, will admit he doesn’t mind being topped by women, quiets enjoys it to be frank.| 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? - Chance will last as long as needed for Ro to get her pleasure. Boy is a giver.

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - Yes. 

How rough are they in bed? - I cheat because honestly just depends on the mood and where they’re at. 

Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - Chance loves to cuddle and loves holding Ro. He likes to stroke her hair or make her smile so he can see her dimples. He loves to be able to have physical contact with Ro, makes him feel safe.

No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - I don’t think I could see them having any naturally. Maybe one if it was fated.

How many children will they adopt? - Two. Chance loves the idea of adoption a lot more given that he was adopted himself. 

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - They try to make it equal but Chance is used to seeing single dad life and so defaults to it.

Who is the stricter parent? - While Rowan isn’t strict in the bad way, she would be perceived as the stricter parent cause Chance can’t take many things seriously. He can be a big kid himself so there’s that.

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Again Rowan. Chance would encourage or try it first just to make sure they won’t get hurt to badly.

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - Both do, though what their contents are varies on who packed them. 

Who is the more loved parent? - Loved equally but like they have a cooler aunt so they don’t exist once she comes around. 

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? - For all of Chance’s joking and not being serious, he takes education very seriously. He’s right there making sure his kids and others have what they need to succeed. 

Who cried the most at graduation? - Both cried equally. Chance cried more later behind closed doors, he’s got a lot of feelings about it. 

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - Chance will but I feel so will Rowan and dole out the punishment at home that is appropriate. 

Cooking: 

Who does the most cooking? - Rowan is the better cook so she does.

Who is the most picky in their food choice? -  I would have to say Rowan cause Chance is someone that lived off of gas station food and once you get to that point I don’t think you become picky about food.

Who does the grocery shopping? - Rowan gives Chance the list and he gets everything to her liking. 

How often do they bake desserts? - Rowan bakes a lot of them by hand. Chance bakes the boxed desserts for her on occasion.

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - They are even, though more towards the meat side. Rowan is a hunter so there’s always some fresh game, Chance fishes enough that there is always some fish in that freezer too.

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - It would be who can beat the other to it first. 

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - Chance. There’s only so much home cooking you can do and he likes to show Rowan off. 

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? - Chance. He gets lost in his head and also is not the best cook to begin with.

Chores: 

Who cleans the room? - Chance, sometimes things have to be a certain way.

Who is really against chores? - Neither likes doing them but it has to be done.

Who cleans up after the pets? - Whoever gets to it first but like they live out in the middle of the woods so they don’t have too if they let the dogs out.

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - Neither. 

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - Rowan, I feel like she cares more about appearance than Chance. 

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - Rowan, she has better eyes for spotting things like that. 

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - Rowan, more so if Chance decides to “help” her.

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - They both like walking the dogs so they each get a leash. Or the dogs become trained enough to not be leash bound.

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - Major holidays they decorate. 

What are their goals for the relationship? - Chance has the goal of having a partner in the adventure and journey we call life.

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - Chance. He gets weird sleep schedules. 

Who plays the most pranks? - Chance. Nothing too harmful, but he likes seeing chemical reactions occur here and there. Rowan tries to get him back and while he figures it out quickly sometimes and just lets it happen so he can see her smile.

[crayonwriting]

Irreplaceable You: 5 (Bucky Barnes)

Summary: Unexpectedly diagnosed with a terminal disease, you embark on a mission to find a new love for your fiancé and childhood best friend, Bucky Barnes.

Disclaimer: This story is a rewrite of the movie of the same title on Netflix. Directed by Stephanie Laing and written by  Bess Wohl. Go check it out!

—

You huffed as you exited the elevator. It was only your first day of support group and you didn't like it one bit. You swore to yourself that you'd never go back again. Ever.

"The whole point is to mingle." A voice piped up behind you. You turned around and saw Tony, with his arms crossed against his chest—a trademark you've noticed in the hour and a half you've met him.

"Not feeling up to it." You replied, pulling your bag higher up your shoulder.

"Neither does anybody. That's why we do it." He walked closer to you, holding out his hand. "Tony. Tony Stark. Multiple myeloma." He noticed your apprehensive expression as you shook his hand. "You've never heard of it?" He chuckled at your lack of a response, putting his hands on his hips.

"Stay a while." He encouraged.

"I'm not really a mingler."

"Not a crocheter either, apparently." He pointed to the ball of yarn in your hands.

"Didn't have time for pointless hobbies then, really don't have time for them now, and I'm especially uninterested in discovering that crocheting is a metaphor for healing or whatever."

"What you're feeling is totally normal."

"You know," you sighed heavily, biting your lip in frustration. "I wish people would stop telling me that totally insane things are totally normal."

"Insane things are normal." He snarkily remarked. You stared daggers at him. With all the pent up frustration you had in you, you suddenly burst out.

"Have you looked around?" You paused, waiting for an answer but he didn't say anything. "And you just accept that? You just accept everything that's going on? You make jokes about your wife having a new boyfriend?" You waved your hands around, emphasizing your point. When he just stared at you, you huffed out loud and turn to walk away.

"I don't accept it." Tony stated. You turned to look him. "But in the event that I do kick the bucket, I hope she does find a boyfriend. Somebody nice. Less well-endowed to be sure, but nice."

You weren't sure how to respond to that. You just shook your head and let your pride get the best of you.

"Well, I just think I am in a different situation. Sam and I met when we were kids, we've been together forever."

Tony chuckled. "How old is he?"

"Thirty-one."

"Oooh." Tony faked a pained expression. "Yep, he's gonna go through a major slut phase." You just stared at each other for a moment before bursting out in laughter.

"Thanks for the heads up." You smiled at him. He smiled back at you before turning around and pressing the button for the elevator.

"You come back." He pointed a finger and raised an eyebrow at you. You just shook your head, turning to walk out of the building.

"Nice to meet you, Tony."

"Nice to meet you, Y/N."

—

You stared intently at Bucky, memorizing his distinguishing features—his eyes, his wavy hair, the slope of his nose, his lips. You felt fluttering in your stomach at the sight of him. Almost immediately, you felt fear of how other women were looking at him. Of course, they wouldn’t look now because everybody knew your history. But what happens when you’re gone?

"Are you gonna go through a slut phase?" You had your chin rested on your palm as you stared at Bucky across the table. You both were eating dinner and you just can't stop thinking about what Tony had said.

"What? No." He said with a mouthful of noodles. "Why would you say that?"

"You're not even thinking about it?"

"That's the absolute furthest thing from my mind right now." He took another bite of his food before looking straight at you. "It's further than like meeting someone on Tinder." He chuckled softly at his statement.

"Okay," you started, "but Tinder can't be that far from your mind because you just said it, which means you had to be thinking about it, which means you're thinking about this too." You ranted. Bucky rolled his eyes at you, shaking his head with a smirk.

“Yeah. I'm busted.”

“I'm serious! I mean look at you.” You gestured to him. He just stared at you, waiting. You pointed a finger at him. “The puppy-dog eyes.”

“What?”

“The absent-minded professor thing.” You added.

“What do you mean absent-minded?”

You sighed. “This is a disaster.” You lay your head on top of the table, defeated.

“C’mon Y/N. What are you talking about?” He reached out and held your elbow.

“You don't know!” You were exasperated. “Because you have no experience.” You leaned in closer to him, pointing a finger. “Women are gonna eat you alive.” Bucky just scoffed and pulled back.

“I can take care of myself.” He argued.

“But what if you can't? Who's gonna match your socks or keep up with your glasses or make you chicken?”

“You don't make me chicken.”

“Yeah, I know. But I would,” you shrugged, “Hypothetically.”

“Well, our hypothetical chicken has been in the freezer for like a year.”

You furrowed your brows at him with determined eyes. You slammed your palm against the table and stood up, your chair screeching loudly against the floor. You stomped towards the refrigerator, pulling out the block of ice that is the chicken out of your freezer.

“What are you doing?” Bucky asked, looking incredulously at you.

“Figuring out how to cook a chicken.” You hastily grabbed your phone from your pocket. Bucky stood up, picking up both of your plates and headed to the kitchen sink.

“Now?” He asked.

“No time like the present.” You tapped on your phone and searched, ‘How do I cook a chicken?’ You scanned through the results and selected one article. You placed your phone beside you on the counter and started thawing the rock-hard chicken. Bucky laughed at how childish and adorable you were being. Passing by you to the sink, he kissed the top of your head.

"It's gonna be amazing."

—

You were at your fourth—or was it your fifth?—session. You and Scott had gotten pretty close. He was always talking and he was funny. He added color to the bleak walls of the hospital.

“Then how come at the end of Reloaded, Neo can just all of a sudden use his powers outside of the Matrix?” He crossed his legs and pursed his lips. “Explain that.”

“Because the entire Matrix was a metaphor!” You raised your hands in emphasis. “And if you can't see that, you're in the Matrix right now.” You smiled triumphantly, going back to scrolling through your phone.

“Alright. You win this round, Y/N.” He checked off some things from your chart and stood up. “I’ll check back on you later.”

You relaxed a little when you found yourself alone in your cubicle. You thought about how you would treat Scott to lunch sometime when you finally get better. Maybe you could even meet Cassie Lang, his daughter, that he was so proud of. Scott made your chemo sessions much more bearable and you were extremely grateful for that.

—

You found yourself alone in your apartment once again. Your puking has stopped for a few hours now, so you were good to do your normal daily activities. You did a few aerobics to stretch your muscles, cleaned out your closet of old clothes and stuff you thought weren’t important anymore.

When you were finally done with some chores, you sat down by the table, grabbing one of Bucky’s books. You also got a pad of sticky notes and a pen. Carefully, you wrote little messages and stuck them inside his textbooks. ‘Check your socks’, ‘Smile! X’, ‘Drink water pls :)’,’Too soon?’, were just a few of them.

You rested your chin on your palm, thinking about whether he’ll find the notes before or after you were gone.

—

“Hey Y/N, have you read the new Cleocatra?” Clint sat down beside you, clutching a few papers in his hands. “Marianne Hall's awesome. She writes this whole narrative about a feline in Ancient Egypt.” Clint impressively whistles. “I think we should take a meeting with her.” He looked at you but it seemed like you weren’t listening at all. You were sipping on some warm tea whilst scrolling through your phone.

“Y/N?”

“Oh, yeah. It's great. I love it.”

Clint caught a glimpse of your phone and he clapped loudly, earning the attention of all the people inside the library. It also snapped you out of your daze and you immediately looked at him.

“What the hell, Clint?” You whisper-shouted. Clint had a mischievous grin on his face and you found it annoying. He pointed to your phone and that’s when realization hit you. You dragged him to your back office where no one can see or hear the both of you.

Clint full-on laughed as you closed the office door.

“Did I see what I just saw? Are you on a dating app?” He chuckled harder. “The same dating app you told me to leave? And, what,” He took your phone from your hand and checked your screen. “Is cancer making you super horny for girls?”

You rolled your eyes at him, taking your phone back. You sat down on your desk and continued to swipe through potential matches.

“I am not horny for girls. And I don’t even know why people use these things.”

“You might be forgetting that I use it.” He dragged a vacant chair closer to your desk and sat on it, resting his arm and chin on the backrest. “It is interesting to know why you are on it.”

“I’m...researching.” You said, defensively.

“Researching what exactly?” Clint raised his eyebrows.

“Just! Just research Clint!” You smacked his arm, biting your lip to prevent yourself from laughing yourself. Clint eyed you warily. You stared back at him, keeping firm.

“Okay, okay.” He raised his hands up in defense. “I'm gonna set up this meeting and you do your ‘research’” He did air quotations with his fingers. “Just call me when everything backfires and hits you in your face.”

“Love you, Clint.” You blew him a kiss.

—

feedback is appreciated!

Tags: @blueskiesbleakeyes / @justanothergirlwithdemons / @butteryoptimisticpeanut /  @likes-to-smell-books /  @hennessy0274-blog

[meatclown69]

That Fallout oc thing I was tagged to do a while back

Tagged by @robobrainmurdermysterytheatre

This is very belated, but i finally got the motivation to drag out my chrome book and type this up!

Rules:

1. Choose an OC.

2. Answer them as that OC.

3. Tag 5 people to do the same.

What is your name? “Petunia Scott.”

How old are you? “I stopped counting after 227 (*laughs dryly*).”

What do you look like? “Hm, well, I’ve got short red hair, amber-ish eyes, riddled with bullet holes and other battle scars, and I’ve got a relatively average build. Oh yeah, not to mention my vitilgo and freckles.”

Where are you from? Where do you live now? “Lived in Sanctuary pre-war and still live there to this day.”

What was your childhood like? “Pretty normal I guess? Didn’t have giant cockroaches and giant green dudes running around then.”

What groups are you friendly with? Are you allied with any factions? “I fully support the Railroad and the Minutemen. Really anyone who is looking to lend a hand to those in need. I’m kind of indifferent to the Brotherhood... The Institute however are no friends of mine.”

Tell me about your best friend. “Oh I have too many to list! Codsworth, Preston, Dogmeat, Nick, etc etc. They’re all so wonderful and supportive, I’m quite lucky to have them with me!”

Do you have a family? Tell me about them! “I had a husband.... pre war... He’s gone now. I had a son, but he’s not... technically... still with us.”

What about a partner or partners? “ (*smiles bashfully*) Oh... Hancock is my significant other, if that’s what you mean. He’s also my go to travelling buddy, if that’s what you actually meant.”

Who are your enemies, and why? “The Institute, they took everything from me. I refuse to sit idly by while they continue to do the same to others.”

Have you ever heard of The Brotherhood of Steel? What do you think about them? “ (*scoffs lightly*) You mean the flaming flying racists? Yeah, Maxson and I... we aren’t crazy about each other. Danse and Proctor.... They’re alright I suppose.”

What about The Enclave? “The who?”

How do you feel about Super Mutants? “I sometimes catch them talking with each other when I sneak around a building where they’ve set up. Kind of entertaining to hear them speak in their slow broken english so casually. They’re kind of like big dumb animals, can’t really blame them for the way they are. (*leans in and whispers*) Mac says they don’t have dicks.”

What’s the craziest fight you’ve ever been in? “Oh, haha, the time I was clearing out a raider camp and not just one regular deathclaw, but also a fucking glowing one came up and wrecked their shit! They cornered me in an old lighthouse after the raiders were all dead, was stuck there for probably, hm, maybe 2 whole hours? Hancock and I eventually cut our losses and high tailed it out of there.”

Have you ever fought a Deathclaw? “See question 14.”

Do you like fighting? “I’d be lying if I said no. Kind of invigorating, really gets the blood pumping, you know?”

What’s your weapon of choice? “I love modding melee weapons and bashing in some raider skulls! Love my baseball bat with sawblades attached to it!”

How do you survive? Your wits, your charm, your skills, brute force, some combination? (a.k.a. what’s your S.P.E.C.I.A.L?) “Honey, I could sweet talk a Supermutant into giving up its gun. But I guess my smarts and brute strength also helps?”

Have you ever been in a vault? What do you think about them? “Is this a rhetorical question? I’m a freezer burned vault-sicle.”

How do you beat all the radiation around here? Has it affected you? “I crush up rad-x and snort it... Not really, I just make sure to listen out for my Geiger-counter and keep a steady supply of Radaway and Rad-X on hand.”

What’s your favorite wasteland critter? “Does Hancock count?”

What’s your least favorite wasteland critter? “ (*shudders*) Bloodbugs....”

How do you feel about robots? “Not much to say. Some are programmed to be bad, and some are nice. However, that one Mr. Handy at Diamond City, the waiter one... He can choke.”

How many caps do you have on you right now? “ (*jingles caps in pocket around*) Um, a lot, I guess. I only really use them to buy scrap off Carla though, don’t really keep track of the amount.”

Nuka Cola or Sunset Sarsaparilla? “Never had Sunset Sarsaparilla, but my friend Cottontail, she says it tastes like thick sugar water. Soooo I guess Nuka Cola is my preferred beverage.”

Do you do chems? “Only when I need them. It’s always fun seeing Hancock’s reaction to me shooting up some psycho, med-x, and buffout all in one sitting just to take out a group of particularly troublesome raiders.”

Do you ever think about the Pre-War world? “I try not to.”

What’s your deepest regret? What would you do differently? “I regret not being the one holding Shaun when we were put on ice... Nate would still be alive then...”

What’s your biggest achievement? Or what do you hope to achieve? “Fucking clearing out The Castle! Did any of you see that giant Mirelurk bastard?? It was like one of those old monster movies, but man, did her eggs make some tasty omelets!”

What do you want for the future? For yourself? Your friends? The world? “I hope for a future where people trying to get by will be left alone by those raider bastards. Also for the Institute to die a fiery death. Both preferably!”

(This was kinda fun, might do one for Effigy or Cottontail later)

[jwminssi]

chasing starlight {jikook | T | part one}

It's the middle of the night when an explosion on his backyard turns Jungkook's life upside down. Through a mess of fallen stars, witches and the secrets his parents are keeping from him, Jungkook will have to make sure he's selfless enough to make the right choice and ignore the way his heart beats faster for the boy that fell from the sky.

read on ao3

a philosopher once asked,

“are we human

because we gaze at the stars,

or do we gaze at the stars

because we are human?”

pointless, really…

“do the stars gaze back?”

now that’s a question.

Jungkook has no idea if he’s officially going insane or if he’s just sleep deprived but he refuses to believe the explosion of light that seems to engulf his house is real. Still, he pauses his music and takes his headphones off, sitting still in his room that’s now back to being immersed in darkness, listening intently for whatever may come his way.

He’s really starting to regret ever doubting Lalisa and her end of the world theories.

But there’s nothing. The only sounds are from the barely nonexistent middle of the night traffic, and the only light is coming from the street lamp right outside his window. Everything seems normal and his parents are definitely still asleep since they haven’t barged in his room to tell him the apocalypse just started.

Jungkook slowly gets up from his bed, still listening, and opens the door. He looks both ways in the hallway before fully stepping out, frowning when he doesn’t find anything out of the ordinary; not that he really wants to, but at the same time it would be nice knowing he hasn’t lost his mind yet.

He takes the stairs to the living room, moving by muscle memory in the pitch black, and hesitates for only a brief moment before turning the handle on the door that leads to the backyard. Everything still seems fairly normal but for some reason his heart starts picking up.

And then it stops just as his eyes land upon his mother’s destroyed garden. Except that’s not really what he’s worried about right now – she’s going to be upset, sure, but there are other matters at hand; at the present moment, Jungkook is more concerned about the trail leading to a small crater just beside their fence.

He can’t really see what’s inside from this distance and the depth it is, but something tells him it’s not just some space debris.

Jungkook takes a deep breath and swallows down the fear bubbling up inside of him; he’s always been a bit of a reckless kid, even now at eighteen years of age, but this feels like just a bit too out of his comfort zone. Still, he’s always been pretty stubborn, too, so he marches over to the crater to get this over with.

And, okay… Jungkook has no idea what he was expecting but it definitely wasn’t to find a boy – a man? He certainly looks young – lying there unconscious. He looks back at his house, all the lights are still off, and then at the other houses on his street, where none of his neighbors seems to have noticed a thing and are probably still off to dreamland.

“I wish I was dreaming.” He mutters to himself and, against better judgement, jumps right inside the crater.

Jungkook is halfway to the passed out stranger when he wakes up with a start, body surging forward into a sitting position and wild eyes darting everywhere until they land on him.

“What’s going on?” He asks, voice sweet despite the tension masking it.

“You tell me!” Jungkook answers, not daring to go any closer. “There was this big ass explosion and then I found you here.” He tries to explain since he’s just as lost. “Who are you, I mean, are you even human?”

Jungkook has never been that great at reading people but he’s sure the man sitting in front of him seems slightly offended.

“Do I look human to you?”

“Well, yeah…”

He looks down at his hands, then, without getting up from the floor, and looks absolutely mortified to see they’re real. Jungkook just stands there, wondering why he couldn’t have just stayed in his room and saved himself the trouble of dealing with whoever this guy is at three in the morning.

“Oh, no.” He whispers, frantically touching the rest of his body. “No, no, no…” Jungkook watches as he looks around, seriously considering going back inside and leaving him to solve his own problems – even though he knows he would just eventually end up coming back out to help.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asks, slightly hesitant because clearly the answer is a solid no, but what else is he supposed to say?

“What does it look like?” Sure enough, it comes out in an extremely frustrated scream directed right at him. “I was just there dancing, minding my own business, and something hit me and sent me flying all the way down so now I’m stuck here on the ground with a human that’s the equivalent of a fireplace on a hot day!”

“Now you’re just being mean.” Jungkook crosses his arms and gets an eye roll for his trouble. “Where did you come from?”

The man looks up and Jungkook follows his gaze. “What do you call those pretty lights in the sky?”

“Uh, stars?”

“Well, I call them siblings.” He answers simply, making Jungkook wonder if being cryptic is his thing or if he’s only doing that to mess with him.

And then it clicks.

“Wait…” Jungkook starts, still not sure of what he’s being told, but there’s a look of minor hope in the man’s eyes that make him believe he might be right; crazy, too, but right nonetheless. “You’re a star?”

“It has a brain…” The man, star?, mutters and Jungkook has never been closer to giving up on someone as he is now.

“Well, I’m sorry if I never even considered the possibility of talking to a fucking star that fell on my backyard in the middle of the night!” He explodes and only then does the man on the ground seem to feel guilty.

“No, I’m sorry…” He sighs and rubs at his eyes. “I didn’t want to be rude, I just… I want to go home.” That last part comes out as a whimper and Jungkook internally curses; he can’t just leave him there to figure things out on his own.

“I’ll help you.” Jungkook says decidedly, the star’s eyes shining with just a little bit of hope as he looks up at him.

“How?”

“I don’t know, but I will, okay? I’m Jungkook.”

“Jimin.”

“How about we go inside? It’s pretty damn cold out here.”

Jimin nods and gets up but he’s back on the ground with a yelp in a second. Jungkook hurries to his side and crouches next to him to find out if he’s alright.

“Is walking supposed to be painful like this?” Jimin asks, rubbing at his eyes, and Jungkook notices they’re shining with unshed tears.

“No, you probably hurt something when you fell.” He sighs and reaches for Jimin’s hand slowly. “Come on, I’ll carry you and we can see if we find out what happened to you.”

“Wait!” Jimin exclaims before Jungkook can put him on his back. “What’s that?” He points at a shiny object to their right and limps to it so he can grab it, lifting it up to reveal it’s a necklace with a big golden pendant.

“Is this yours?” Jungkook asks as he motions for Jimin to jump so he can bring him inside.

“No, I… I think this is the thing that hit me!”

“And made you fall?”

“Yeah.” Jungkook doesn’t answer, more worried about not dropping Jimin as he walks through the mess that his fall caused. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?” He muses, but Jungkook can’t look at it, too focused on carrying him to safety and thinking about just what the hell he’s supposed to do now.

W hen they reach the back porch, Jungkook looks back and grimaces at the state of the garden after Jimin’s fall. Most of his mother’s plants were intact but some of them weren’t so lucky and ended up in Jimin’s path, and he can see the trail of leaves, flowers and broken ceramic leading down into the crater.

“Something wrong?” Jimin asks and Jungkook is startled at how close to his ear he sounds, but chooses to ignore the shivers that run down his spine.

“Ah, no, I mean…” He hesitates, not knowing how to say what the problem is without sounding rude. “You just sort of ruined my mom’s garden.”

“Oh.” Jimin says and somehow Jungkook can tell he’s pouting. “I’m sorry.” He sounds genuinely upset.

“It’s okay, we can fix it tomorrow.” Jungkook tries to sound reassuring but he doesn’t know if he succeeds because Jimin only sighs against his neck. “Let’s get some ice for your foot.”

“Ice?” Jimin asks, not sounding too on board with the idea.

“Yeah, I think you have a twisted ankle from the fall.” He explains, locking the backdoor and heading for the kitchen, where he puts Jimin on the counter and goes to the freezer. “The ice is going to help, I promise.” Jungkook says as he fills an ice bag and Jimin only hums while he examines the necklace, putting it around his neck afterwards. “It really is pretty, huh?”

“Do you think it suits me?” Jimin asks, shyly, as he looks up at Jungkook through his eyelashes.

“Well, you’re prettier.” Jungkook answers without thinking and immediately turns around for Jimin to get on his back again when he realizes what he said.

Jimin only giggles and whispers a soft thank you in Jungkook’s ear as they climb up the stairs. Once inside his room, Jungkook carefully sits Jimin down on his bed, a pillow under his leg and the bag of ice directly over his ankle after checking to make sure that’s where the damage really was.

“Comfortable?” He asks once he steps away.

“Too cold.” Jimin makes a face that ends up turning into a pout and Jungkook smiles at him.

“Hang in there, it’ll make it better.” Jimin only sighs and accepts it. “You can sleep on the bed, I’ll just get more blankets.” Jungkook says as he scratches the back of his neck and looks around the mess that is his room, feeling awkward to have someone he doesn’t know there.

“It’s okay, I can just sit there and you can have your bed.” Jimin points at Jungkook’s chair on his desk, seemingly not thinking anything is wrong, unlike the other boy.

“But you must be exhausted, I mean, you just fell all the way from the sky.” Jungkook tries to argue as he rushes around the room, picking up stuff and finding places to put them that doesn’t make the place look as messy.

“I’m really not tired.” The star dismisses it as he watches Jungkook with an amused expression on his face.

“But it’s the middle of the night…” Jungkook frowns and Jimin has to admit he looks like a cute lost puppy in the middle of his room with his head tilted to the side.

“Exactly…” Jimin agrees with a smile. He’s definitely starting to find this human interesting to be around. “I’m supposed to be up there, you know... Shining.”

“Oh…” Jungkook mutters when his brain accepts that piece of information. “Right.” He claps his hands once to gather his thoughts, and looks back at Jimin. “Well, I’ll stay up with you, then.”

*

When Jungkook wakes up, the sun is already high in the sky. He rolls over until he’s lying on his back and frowns at the light coming from his window, rubbing his eyes and trying to ignore the voice on the back of his head that tells him something is off.

He’s mid-stretch when it hits him.

Jimin.

Jungkook freezes and looks around his room, hoping to find the star sitting at his desk or something like that. He gets up, nearly falling back down when he sees fireworks behind his eyelids for standing too quickly, and goes to his bathroom, opening the door without even thinking that Jimin could get offended if he really is in there – but he isn’t, so Jungkook doesn’t have to worry about that.

“Did I dream you?” He mutters to himself as he checks his clothes and his room one more time; everything was as he remembers from the previous night but there’s nothing to tell him whether what happened was real or not.

It feels too vivid to be a dream, Jungkook decides. Jimin felt too real to be made up by his brain like that; his voice, his laugh, the way he told him about the universe, his home up in the sky, and everything Jungkook had no idea ever existed. No, Jungkook is sure the way his heart beat faster inside his chest every time Jimin smiled as he warmed up to him throughout the night couldn’t have been a dream.

So he marches out of his room and downstairs towards the kitchen, sure that if he can’t find Jimin on the way at least he can find his mother and ask if she’s seen him. The house is quiet except for his own footsteps against the hardwood floor and he figures his father has left for work already and his mom is outside taking care of her garden.

Jungkook’s heart stops. “ Shit , the garden.” For the second time in less than twelve hours he hesitates with his hand on the backdoor handle; he’s about to find out if everything really happened or if he should be worried about his brain creating such detailed dreams like that.

He lets out the breath he didn’t even realize he was holding when he spots Jimin sitting down next to his mother with their backs to him as they giggle together about whatever talk they’re having.

“Oh, thank God you’re here.” Jungkook sighs in relief and he didn’t realize he said it so loudly but Jimin turns to him when he hears it and gets up.

“Were you worried?” He asks as he squints under the sun and Jungkook makes his way to them.

“Uh, yeah, I…” He scratches the back of his neck as he thinks of a good way to answer. “I was scared something might have happened to you or… that you weren’t real at all.”

Jimin studies him for a moment and his eyes are the softest Jungkook has ever seen them. He’s staring to get uncomfortable when Jimin turns to him mother and smiles as he says,

“I see it now.”

She smiles, too, and Jungkook is left to look between them completely lost as to what they’re talking about.

“What?” He asks, because he hates being the main topic of conversation.

“Nothing.” Jimin replies happily before sitting back down and Jungkook belatedly notices he has gardening gloves on and the two of them are taking care of the destroyed garden – and doing a great job at it, too; it almost looks as if nothing happened. “Just something Sooyoung was telling me about you.”

“I’m not so sure I want to know...” Jungkook scratches the back of his head and Jimin giggles as he finishes taking care of yet another pot from the garden. Only then does Jungkook realize something. “Wait, how are you walking just fine?”

“Oh, I made him some tea before we came to the garden.” Sooyoung answers simply with a smile as she tends for her plants. Jungkook squints at the words.

“Yeah, I almost fell down the stairs…” Jimin continues as if nothing’s wrong, flashing Jungkook a grin. “She heard me and helped me with my foot.”

“Tea.” Jungkook says slowly, to which his mother only hums in agreement. “For a twisted ankle.” He repeats just to make sure he didn’t get it wrong.

“Yes, honey, why not?” She looks up at him smiling.

“You know what, nevermind.” Jungkook gives up on it, something in his mother’s eyes telling him to drop it. “Need help with the garden?”

“I was starting to think you wouldn’t ask.” Sooyoung gives him a pair of gloves and Jungkook rolls his eyes as he takes it, sitting next to Jimin who offers him a smile as warm as the sun glowing above them.

About an hour later, when the garden is resembling its initial state and all three are satisfied with the work they did, Sooyoung ushers them inside to start on lunch. She scolds Jungkook for not taking care of the guests properly and tells him to show Jimin where the bathroom is so he can shower.

So Jungkook goes, gets Jimin a clean towel and a change of his own clothes, and leads him to the downstairs bathroom, teaching him how to change the water temperature – he doesn’t know how cold or hot stars get, after all – before leaving for the upstairs bathroom to take a shower himself.

He’s just sitting back down with his mother in the kitchen when Jimin shows up again, hair still wet and wearing Jungkook’s clothes – he chooses to ignore the way his heart does a little flip at that, but he can’t help but stare. Jimin notices it, of course, and blushes an adorable shade of pink as he looks down at the long sleeves covering his hands.

“Looks a bit big, right?” He giggles, playing with his sweater paws.

“Uh, no, that...” Jungkook starts, completely hypnotized by the way Jimin shines when he smiles, his beauty making everything else look dull. “That actually looks...” He struggles with his words as Jimin watches him expectantly, but his mother doesn’t let him embarrass himself even more, bless her.

“Jungkook, can you set the table for us, please?” Sooyoung says, exchanging an amused look with Jimin that her son doesn’t see.

“Yeah, sit down, Minie.” The nickname escapes his lips easily and he only notices it when it’s out but no one comments anything so he pretends he didn’t say it either. Jimin’s eyes follow him wherever he goes, though, and it takes all his focus not to trip over his own feet.

They eat in a comfortable atmosphere, Jungkook right beside Jimin as he tries human food for the first time – no, Jungkook, we don’t have noodles up in the sky – and shares his opinions on it with them. It’s usually just Jungkook and Sooyoung during lunch, since his father is off to work at this time of day, so it’s nice to have some more company. Jimin does most of the talking, answering Sooyoung’s questions about him and his life, as curious as any human would be to meet a real fallen star.

It’s definitely not a situation they have been in before, but Jungkook can’t say he’s mad about it. Jimin is the definition of bright, both with his personality and the way his skin seems to glisten the more joyful they make him, and Jungkook can’t look away no matter how hard he tries.

“You okay?” Jungkook asks when Jimin sways in his seat for the third time. Sooyoung is in the middle of getting up but she stops to study the star worriedly.

“Yeah, I just…” Jimin blinks slowly and Jungkook notices his eyes look like they’re about to close on their own. “Never stayed up this late.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot…” Jungkook chastises himself for his carelessness; he had been so entranced by the star that he didn’t think Jimin’s needs weren’t the same as his. “Do you want to go upstairs to take a nap?”

Jimin only nods as he gets up, a yawn stopping him from saying anything else. “Are you… coming with me?” He asks, shyly.

“I’ll help mom out down here for a bit, but you go ahead and make yourself comfortable, okay?”

“Okay.” Jimin answers quietly and smiles at them both before making his way up to Jungkook’s room.

It’s silent in the kitchen for a moment, only the sound of Sooyoung cleaning the table is heard as Jungkook’s eyes are still on the stairs where Jimin just disappeared. A frown adorns his face as he thinks about the turn his life just took overnight, the craziness that he’s sure is about to ensue once he actively begins to help Jimin get back home. In all honesty, he has no idea where to start; this world, Jimin’s world, is not something Jungkook even knew existed before and now he’s supposed to find a way to send a star back to the sky.

Not only that, but he grew attached to Jimin in the few hours they spent together, more than anyone would have imagined. Jimin is enchanting in every way there is, effortlessly too, and Jungkook can’t name what he’s feeling but he knows he has to tone it down or it’s going to be a real hassle when he has to let Jimin go.

“So what exactly happened last night?” Sooyoung asks, breaking the silence and pulling Jungkook back from his thoughts.

“I honestly have no idea.” He answers with a sigh, hand going up to mess up his still wet hair. “I was just listening to music and then there was this big flash outside...”

“And like the adventurous soul that you are you had to go see what it was, huh?” She smiles at him and tosses him a cloth to dry the dishes that she’s washing.

“Obviously.” Jungkook says, grinning widely because that’s indeed very predictable of him.

“You’ve always been too curious for your own good.” Sooyoung nods. “But I’m glad you did…” She starts but stays quiet for a while, thinking her words over. “Who knows what would have happened to Jimin if you hadn’t showed up.”

Jungkook stops halfway through drying a plate. “What do you mean?”

She sighs. “It can be dangerous around here for him.” It’s what Sooyoung chooses to say.

“What?” He frowns. “How do you know?”

“I just do, baby.” Sooyoung tries to give it a tone of finality but Jungkook is not having any of it.

“Mom.” He tries to get her to look at him but she doesn’t look away from the sink. “Can you help him get back home?”

“No, I’m sorry.”

“Mom, tell me the truth.” Jungkook pulls at her arm until she finally looks at him. “You clearly can!”

Sooyoung closes the faucet off and just stares at the ceiling while her son waits for an answer. She’s not supposed to talk about this, it’s not the right time yet. “I know how to but I can’t get involved in anything like this, Jungkook.”

“What’s this?” He nearly explodes in frustration, only minding his voice because he knows Jimin is asleep upstairs.

“I can’t tell you. And I can’t help him. I’m sorry.” Her words and the way they are spoken tell Jungkook it’s the last thing she’ll comment on the subject but he can’t give up just yet.

“Is there really nothing you can do?”

Sooyoung sighs and pinches her nose before she looks at him again. “There’s a small shop about twenty minutes away from here, you’ll probably find the help you need there. I’ll write the address down for you later.”

“Thank you.” Jungkook says sincerely and they exchange a look of complicity that makes it explicit she really wasn’t supposed to be doing this but chose to because of her son.

It’s a little past five in the afternoon when Jungkook softly touches Jimin’s arm, shaking him slightly until he’s blinking back to consciousness. Truth be told, he didn’t want to disturb the way Jimin was sleeping so peacefully but he figured it would be best to ease him into their own sleeping routine if he was going to spend some time down here with them.

“Hey, time to wake up.” He says with a low voice as if to not startle him.

Jimin groans. “Do I have to?”

“Yup.” Jungkook answers with a smile. “I want to see if you can sleep tonight so you have to get up now.”

“This is awful.” Jimin complains, but sits up on the bed anyways, still yawning and rubbing at his sleepy eyes.

“Are you always like this when you wake up? I mean, do stars even sleep?” Jungkook asks as he makes himself comfortable right beside Jimin on the bed.

“It’s more like a dormant state than actual sleeping.” Jimin explains. “In a human body, I feel like I need it more, though.”

“How did you end up in this body, anyways? Like, did you pick it or something?”

“Oh, I...” Jimin purses his lips and frowns. “I don’t know, actually.”

“Whatever happened, it was definitely the perfect one for you.” The words escape Jungkook’s mouth without his permission and he only truly realizes what he said when Jimin smiles and looks down at his lap.

Neither can say anything, though, because Jungkook’s father enters the room right then; Jungkook isn’t sure he wants to know for how long he’s been there.

“Son.”

“Dad, hi.” He clears his throat and looks to his side. “This is...”

“Jimin.” The star nods at hearing his name. “I know. Your mother told me.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Jeon.” Jimin says politely and even risks a smile. Jungkook knows his father can look intimidating, but he had never seen him like this before.

“Likewise.” He seems to think for a moment before asking, “So for how long are you staying?”

“Dad!” Jungkook protests, knowing how rude that is.

“Not long, you don’t have to worry about that.” Jimin still answers, and Jungkook realizes that there’s something he doesn’t know. “I’ll be on my way as soon as possible.”

“Good.” Jungkook’s father nods. “Sooyoung and I would never kick you out, Jungkook wouldn’t let us either way,” Jimin smiles at that “but you understand, right?”

“I do. Don’t worry.” Jimin gives him a reassuring nod and they exchange a meaningful look.

“Good. You can call me Dowoon, by the way.” He finally smiles and Jungkook can breathe as the tense atmosphere dissipates and his dad leaves the room.

“What was that about?” Jungkook hurries to ask Jimin, who seems to be caught in an internal dilemma.

“I-” He starts, clearly hesitating, but is interrupted.

“Jungkook.” Dowoon calls, back in his bedroom, but he’s looking at Jimin as he speaks. “I think your mom needs you to run to the store before dinner, can you come downstairs?”

“Uh, yeah...” Jungkook frowns as he glances between the two of them. The way his father seems to be giving Jimin a warning look doesn’t make him any less confused. “Sure.”

Dowoon doesn’t leave them alone again, and only leaves when he knows his son will be following him.

Jungkook realizes, then, there’s something he doesn’t want Jimin to tell him. And, if he’s being honest, he’s not so sure he wants to find out either.

They send him to the grocery store and make Jimin stay home in what’s most likely another cautionary measure to keep whatever secret they have hidden. Jungkook doesn’t mind, there’s been way too much information in the span of just a few hours and it’s not like he’s dying to be bombarded with anything else soon. Still, it bothers him because he knows he’s also part of whatever it is they’re hiding.

When he gets back home, thirty minutes later thanks to his will to return as fast as possible, Jimin is sitting on the couch while his father tells him about baseball. He has an adorable pout on his face and he’s frowning, too focused on what Dowoon is saying and what the television is showing to even realize Jungkook is watching him.

Jungkook just stops there for a moment and leans against the wall, grocery bags still heavy in his hands, as he observes Jimin trying to make sense of the rules and plays that are happening probably way too fast for his untrained eyes.

“He’s a wonder, isn’t he?” Sooyoung says suddenly making Jungkook jump and nearly drop everything he’s holding. “I had never met a star before.”

“Um, yeah, he’s…” Jungkook sighs, not even realizing that his lips stretched into a fond smile when he looked over at Jimin again. “He’s something else.”

“Be careful, honey.” She warns, her eyes more worried than Jungkook has ever seen.

“With what?” He asks, attention back on Jimin who is now giggling along with Dowoon as he cheers for his team. There’s a heavy feeling in his chest, and Jungkook can’t figure out if it’s a good one or not.

“Everything involving Jimin.” Sooyoung answers, also watching the two on the couch. It had been hard convincing Dowoon not to freak out too much when he found out about the star in their house, the danger for them was enormous after all, but she managed to at least convince him not to kick him out. Now, seeing them interact, it made her troubled heart a little bit more at ease. Jimin really is a charmer. “Don’t get too close. It’s going to be painful in the end.”

“I know.” Jungkook sighs, finally moving from his spot and taking the groceries to the kitchen. “But I can’t help it, mom. There’s something about him.”

“Just… be careful, okay?” Sooyoung says instead of all the other things she actually meant to. “Especially when you start to look for help to send him back.”

“Okay.” That’s the only thing Jungkook answers, head already too full with everything that’s been happening.

“Why don’t you go spend some time with him?” She asks a beat later as he’s starting to get ready to chop vegetables for dinner.

“But you just said not to get too close.”

“Just for tonight.” Sooyoung nods at him encouragingly, and he’s thankful for it. “Ask your father to come help me.”

It doesn’t take much convincing for Jungkook’s dad to get up from the couch and leave the two alone, though Jungkook suspects it has something to do with the way his mom was looking at him from the kitchen.

He leads Jimin outside through the backdoor to the porch and they sit down together, bodies just a bit closer than they should be; whatever, Jungkook would just blame the soft breeze blowing against their skin if his parents asked.

“Your father is nice.” Jimin breaks the silence and Jungkook snorts.

“Yeah, after he stopped threatening to kick you out.”

Jimin smiles, kicking the dirt under his shoes. “He has his reasons.”

“Let me guess, you can’t tell me.”

“Sorry, Jungkookie.” His smile softens and Jungkook can feel himself falling. He knows he’s staring too much but Jimin doesn’t seem to care, he only stares back. Sooyoung laughs inside the house and they both look through the glass doors to see what’s going on. “What’s it like?” Jimin asks after a beat.

“What?” Jungkook is already looking back at him.

“Being in love.” He’s still watching the couple and Jungkook can see all the emotions that cross his eyes; there’s curiosity, confusion and even a little bit of hope.

“Do stars not have feelings?” Jungkook inquires, not sure how he’s supposed to answer that. He’s only been in love once in his short life and it’s not like he’s an expert.

“We’re tied together by our strings of light…” Jimin starts, eyes now focused on the dark sky above them where his siblings can already be seen.“Caring for each other is a responsibility, not a choice. Watching humans is the closest I ever got to love, or any other emotion like that.” He pauses, hoping he was able to explain it well. “We feel in a way, we just can’t connect like humans do.”

“But can you learn?” Jungkook looks at his hands as he asks the question. He doesn’t know why his heart sinks at the thought of Jimin not being able to fall in love; no, scratch that, he does know, he’s just trying to ignore it.

“I think so…” Jungkook’s heart skips a beat at Jimin’s answer and he scolds himself for it. “If I spend enough time down here I think I can do that. One of my brothers, he…” Jimin stops, seemingly regretting what he was going to say. “Well, that doesn’t matter now.” He smiles sadly and looks at Jungkook. “Answer my question.”

“Love is… complicated.” Jungkook sighs when he can’t offer more than a cliché answer. “It doesn’t always make you happy and a lot of the time it hurts like hell.”

Jimin frowns. “Then why do you praise it so much?”

“Because it’s worth it.” Jungkook says simply with a shrug. He was never able to understand love before he felt it and he just knows he won’t be capable of explaining it to Jimin with words.

Jimin seems to get that it’s not something that can just be made simple like that because he accepts the answer and looks back inside the house. “They seem happy.”

“They are.” Jungkook nods, following his gaze to where they can both see Dowoon making Sooyoung laugh as he helps her cook. “But love isn’t perfect, Jimin… It’s not always like that.”

“I know pain.” Jimin starts, eyes back up to the sky. “Disappointment. Betrayal. Anger.” That’s an awful list, Jungkook wants to say, but he stays quiet. “But I don’t know love.” He sighs. “I wish I did.”

They spend a moment in silence, Jimin watching the sky while Jungkook watches him. There’s longing in his eyes now, Jungkook guesses he’s missing home, and he just prays he’ll be selfless enough to let him go when the time comes.

“Jimin, what happened to your brother?” He asks suddenly. If Jimin feels offended by the question he doesn’t show it.

“He fell.” He answers simply.

“Like you.” Jungkook assumes, though he knows there’s more to the story.

Jimin smiles, but it’s sad. Jungkook wants to change it. “No, not like me. He did it on purpose. But he didn’t just fall from the sky to the ground… He also fell in love. ”

“And then?” Jungkook doesn’t know if he’s pushing his luck asking this, but he needs to know.

“Um, it… didn’t work out.” Jimin makes a face as he says those words and something tells Jungkook it’s an understatement. “Stars are not supposed to be close to humans and when our people found out it turned into a mess, basically. My younger brother, he didn’t take it too well and made some drastic decisions. As the head of the army, he was allowed to and no one stopped him, but… my older brother, the one that fell…” Jimin focuses on the ground under his feet again. “I haven’t seen him since.”

“How long ago was that?” Jungkook asks, wanting to comfort Jimin but not really knowing how.

“A couple of centuries ago.”

Jungkook’s jaw drops. “Are you serious?”

“Stars can shine for billions of years, Jungkookie.” Jimin reminds him with a fond smile.

“Right…” Jungkook nods as he processes the information. “Yeah, I don’t know, I forget you’re not human sometimes.”

“Really?” For some reason that little piece of information seems to make Jimin’s night. “Why?”

“I don’t know… You’re getting the hang of being around us pretty quickly.” He says and Jimin smiles, making the entire porch brighter. “There’s just one thing that gives you away.”

“What?” Jimin asks, alarmed. His big eyes and pout make Jungkook’s stomach do weird flips.

“When you’re happy, you start glowing... it’s pretty hard to miss.” Jungkook tells him. Jimin doesn’t seem to like that so he’s quick to reassure him. “It’s beautiful, though… not just that, all of you.”

As if to prove his point, Jimin’s skin shines at the compliment as he looks down at his lap, a smile on his face. Jungkook reaches out to cup his cheek and lift his face so that their eyes meet again. He studies Jimin’s face for what feels like an eternity, trying to absorb every little detail he can and wondering just how on Earth can someone like him exist.

“So fucking beautiful...” He whispers, too lost in Jimin’s beauty to try filtering his thoughs.

His gaze ends up on Jimin’s lips, half open and so inviting; Jungkook licks his own lips, he wants to kiss him so badly but he hesitates, not knowing if Jimin would be comfortable with it.

Before he can make up his mind, though, the door opens and his father comes out of the house, bringing the smell of freshly cooked food with him. Jungkook pulls away from Jimin as if he’s just been electrocuted.

“Boys.” Dowoon says, stern as ever. “Dinner’s ready.”

Jimin shoots Jungkook an unsure look before getting up and going inside where he’s greeted by a cheerful Sooyoung telling him to sit down.

“Son.” Jungkook’s father stops him with a hand on his shoulder before he can go in.

“I know, dad.” Jungkook doesn’t give him time to say anything, suddenly feeling frustrated as reality hits him. “Don’t get too close, he’ll be gone soon. I got it, alright?” He doesn’t even try masking his harsh tone before he pulls himself out of Dowoon’s hold to go sit in front of Jimin at the dinner table.

Jungkook avoids Jimin’s gaze all throughout dinner and afterwards, too, when they sit in the living room to watch television before going to bed. He stays quiet because he doesn’t want to let everyone know how his chest is tight at the thought of Jimin leaving; he knows it’s too soon, it has barely been a day that they met but somehow Jimin already got a hold of his heart that’s too strong to let go.

He yells at himself inside his own head, aware that he can’t be selfish when it comes to this. Jimin clearly misses his home, his siblings, and wants to go back to the sky; he can’t refuse to help him because his heart decided it would be a good idea to fall in love with an ethereal being.

Jungkook arranges the pillows on the bed for Jimin when they go up to his room and he can feel the star hovering around him, wanting to say something.

“Are you okay?” Jimin finally asks when Jungkook is about to leave the room, holding him by the wrist so he stops.

“Fine.” He answers. Jimin only raises his eyebrows at him and Jungkook sighs. “I don’t want to let you go, Jimin.” He admits.

“Oh.” The grip on Jungkook’s wrist loosens. “You have to.”

“Yeah.” Jungkook scoffs. “I know.” He pulls his arm free and looks around the room. “You have everything you need here, make yourself comfortable, yeah?”

Jimin stops him again just as he turns around. “Where are you going?”

“Downstairs.” He answers as if it’s obvious. “To the couch.”

“Can’t you sleep here? With me?” This time Jimin holds him tighter. “I don’t sleep at night, it’ll be easier if you stay.”

Jungkook thinks hard about what he’s asking. Deep down, he knows Jimin only wants to keep him close and that he can most likely sleep well without him being there. Jungkook is also well aware of the fact that sharing a bed with Jimin will only make things worse for him in the end, the way his chest already hurts is enough indication of that.

Still, he sighs. “Alright.”

Jimin smiles so brightly at him Jungkook chooses to forget he’ll regret this soon when he misses Jimin’s warmth next to him. They get in bed together, facing each other, and Jimin still has a small smile on his face that Jungkook can’t stop staring at.

“Mom gave me the address of someone that can help you get back home.” Jungkook mutters, concealing the way he really feels about Jimin going away. “We’ll go to them tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Jimin nods, voice small. He seems to be thinking hard about something, but Jungkook doesn’t dare to ask. “Thank you for doing this, Jungkookie.” He says and moves quickly to deposit a shy kiss on his cheek.

Jungkook swallows. “Good night, Jimin.” He turns his back on the star and closes his eyes, hoping sleep will take him soon.

[hymn2000]

Chiquitita - MCU AU fanfic - C3

Story summary: Something strange is happening. Someone from space has made their way to Earth, armed with a strange weapon. Targeting teenagers, their ray gun, when fired, turns the victim into a toddler. The Avengers set out to stop this, and find a way to reverse the effects. However, they don’t all come out of the battle unscathed.

Previous chapters: 1 2

Part of my Frostiron and Spiderson series.

Warnings/themes: de-aging, family stuff, corporal punishment (early chapters only), mental health stuff, hurt/comfort

This chapter dedicated to @theallpowerfulone for being one of my long time readers, and for all of the comments I get on virtually every chapter of anything I ever post. Hope you enjoy

Chapter 3 - A Rifle In Your Hand

-

Peter woke up naturally, feeling refreshed, which was a surprise for him. It was still fairly early, so he spent a while lounging in bed, daydreaming and thinking about what they’d all get up to in the afternoon, once Kindsprengen was a thing of the past. There was a click, and the bedroom door cracked open.

“Oh, you’re awake” Carol said, coming over to him.

“Yeah, but only just”

Carol sat on the edge of the bed, stroking the boys hair gently.

“I’ll be back by the time you’ve finished up with the Avengers” she promised. 

“Are you sure you can’t help?” 

“I’ve got things to sort out this morning. You’re perfectly capable without me. Besides, I’m not in the plan” she kissed him gently on the forehead. “Good luck. You’ll do great. I love you, baby”

“I love you too, mumma” Peter said, giving her a hug. “See you later”

“See you later, baby. I can’t wait to hear about your victory”

-

Half an hour later, Peter realised he could hear people walking about, people talking in the distance, and the whirring sounds of the showers and cisterns. It was obvious he was no longer the only one awake. Peter climbed out of bed, threw a blanket round his shoulders, and went off to the kitchen.

-

Steve was cooking at the stove, and Banner was stood leaning against the counter beside him, talking. Clint and Thor were drinking coffee at the breakfast bar.

“Morning, everyone!” Peter said brightly. 

“Morning, Peter”

“How are you so full of energy?” Clint said.

“I slept well” Peter said simply. “Anyone need a drink while I’m making one?”

“I think we’re all set” Banner said, raising his own mug.

Peter nodded, humming to himself as he filled the kettle and stuck it back on its stand, leaving it to boil while he got out a mug and went over to the drinks cupboard.

“I hope you’re not nicking the instant coffee” Tony said, coming into the kitchen, hair still wet from his shower. 

“Nope, of course not!” Peter said, taking his hand off the Nescafe and grabbing his own box of chai tea.

Tony poured himself a mug of coffee from the machine, and went to look over Steve’s shoulder.

“Army rations, is it?”

Steve shot him a look. “Just because I’m not doing anything too heavy, doesn’t mean I’m giving us the bare minimum”

“Uncle Steve does the best breakfast food” Peter said, pouring water into his mug. 

“Rude” Tony said, pretending to clock him over the head.

“My word, it’s not even 8am and you’re already smacking my boy about” 

Tony stuck his tongue out at Loki. “Ha ha, very funny”

“Morning, Loki” Bruce said.

“Morning” Loki said, putting an arm round Peter and giving him a quick kiss. “Is that drink for me?”

“Uhh. No, but I’ll make you once” Peter said. “What kind of tea do you want?”

“Surprise me”

Loki let Peter get on, and went and looked over Steve’s shoulder. 

“What are you cooking?”

“Ham and poached eggs on English muffins” Steve said. 

“Ooh, good option”

“Thanks. I’m glad you’re more agreeable than your husband”

Loki just laughed, shaking his head and going to annoy Tony for a bit.

“Um, should we be waking the girls?” Bruce said. “We wanted to be punctual today”

“Mumma’s gone already” Peter said. 

“Yeah, and the other two are already up” Clint said. “Nat was having a shower, and she said Wanda was awake. They’ll be through when they’re ready”

-

Peter was anxious and restless with anticipation while everyone finished getting ready. Steve gave him his shield to occupy him, and he spent a while looking at it and practising holding and using it. He got a little more ambitious, swinging it about and acting out, until Tony grabbed it from him and told him if he even thought about frisbeeing it, there’d be trouble.

But then everyone was ready, suited and booted, and assembled into the front line team and the sub team. Surveillance confirmed it was time to move, and that was it: they were off.

-

Loki couldn’t help being vaguely impressed by the army Kindsprengen arrived with. His original thought; that it was only a handful of people, had quickly been proved wrong. At least it made things interesting. But it also made things harder. They were fast, and vicious. They could hold their own, and it was maximum effort for a long time there, with everyone going full-pelt. 

The opposition may have been fast, but the Avengers were stronger, and they worked in a better formation. They knew exactly what they were doing, and, unlike Kindsprengen’s army, they had a plan. The enemy was falling, and it was only a matter of time before Kindsprengen was the only one left standing.

-

Crucial times were closing in, but Loki and Tony had landed on the same ledge, and they couldn’t help having non-battle-related conversations while they overlooked the makeshift battleground and kept an eye on how things were setting themselves up for the final battle.

“I still think it’s a bad idea” Tony said. “I think, nice, home-cooked meal. Salad. Get the Twisters out of the freezer or something. Perfect way to wind down after a mission, don’t you think?”

“Well, I’m all for it, as long as I don’t have to put in the effort” Loki said.

Tony laughed. “You can just pass out a few bottles of drink and then doss it for the rest of the day; just sleep or read or something. Carol’s gonna be back later so the kid’ll be occupied telling his battle tales and stuff”

“Very true. He loves that woman”

“So do you”

“And you”

“I don’t suppose you’re considering running off into the starlight together?” Tony teased.

“Don’t be an idiot”

“Can you two leave your domestic talk till later?!” Steve shouted. “We’re a bit busy here!”

Peter’s voice came through the headset. “I’ve got visual. I can take him out”

“Kid, no” Tony snapped. “Follow the plan!”

“I’m moving in”

“Wait, don’t-!”

Peter did. There was nothing at all stopping him from taking Kindsprengen down. He was undetected, and it wouldn’t take long. The criminal and that creepy ray gun were in sight. It would just be the work of a moment.

-

“Sub team have got the gun!” Natasha shouted. “Last men are down. We’ve got Kindsprengen immobilised”

“Right, protect the gun, protect the kid” Tony said. “Cap, Thor, you ok to finish off?”

“Roger that” 

“Ok. Everyone else, let’s go home”

-

It all seemed to have happened so fast. 

“That was scarily simple” Natasha said, flopping down at the breakfast bar. “Makes you wonder what everyone was so afraid of”

“It’s the gun that’s scary; not the person. Not so much” Peter said, carefully setting the ray gun down on the table. He shuddered. “I’m glad it’s over”

“You did well, kid” Bruce said. “This was just a minor thing: we don’t need to think about it anymore. Thor’ll find a reversal, and then everything’ll be back to normal”

“Good” Clint yawned. “Damn, that might’ve only been a couple of hours, but it’s still knackered me out”

“Well, it was pretty hectic” Bruce said. “It’s kinda nice just having a quick take-down though”

“Peter definitely shortened it for us” Nat said. “We might still be out there if you hadn’t jumped in”

Peter grinned. “I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. He was right there! He was so oblivious”

“You did good. Let me see to your head” Bruce said. “Does it hurt?”

“Not really. It’s just a few scratches” Peter said, sitting down obediently.

Bruce carefully cleaned the cut on his forehead and the grazes on his chin. 

“You’ve escaped lightly. We all did. I’m just gonna stick a steri-strip on your forehead” he said, doing so. “There. Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“No, I don’t think so. Just a little knocked around, but nothing else. Thanks, uncle Bruce” Peter smiled, jumping off his seat.

“No worries. Gotta keep the team mended. It’s kind of my job” 

Tony came storming into the kitchen, and he didn’t look at all happy.

“What’s up, boss?” Nat said.

“Why are you lot still in your battle gear?” he demanded. “Don’t you think you should go and get changed?”

“We’ve only been back five minutes” Peter said.

Tony glared, and marched over to him. Peter stood his ground, although his heart had started to thump. 

“You and me need to have a little chat, don’t you think?” he said. “You deliberately disobeyed me”

“What?! No I didn’t!”

“Yes, you did! You knew the plan. I told you to hold off, and you went in anyway! How dare you?!”

“Hey, we won today! I was the one who got the gun, and I kept Kindsprengen down until the others could get to me and help” Peter said, furious to have their victory completely overlooked. “So what if I stepped out? I would’ve been an idiot not to! If it weren’t for me, we could still be out there! I did ok, you know I did!”

“That’s completely besides the point!” Tony exploded, and smacked him hard on the bottom. 

It hurt a lot, but even then, in ordinary circumstances, Peter would’ve have cried. But, with so many pairs of eyes watching him, he couldn’t help it: he burst into tears and buried his face in his hands. 

“Hey, there’s no need for that!” Nat said, coming to Peter’s rescue and hugging him close. “Shh, it’s ok”

Peter just cried into her chest. It was so unfair. He’d done well today - hadn’t he? Well, that’s what everyone else had said. So why didn’t his dad agree?

“You’re just crying for attention” Tony snapped. “Nat, let go of him: he did wrong, you know he did”

“He stepped out for the sake of the mission” Nat said, still holding Peter tight and rubbing his back firmly. “It cancels out”

“He still disobeyed me” Tony growled. “I can’t ignore that”

“Ah” A voice sounded in the doorway. “Did something go wrong, then?”

Tony looked at Carol. “You don’t need to get involved here”

He tugged Peter away from Nat.

“Ow! Let go of me!” Peter cried, trying to push him away. “I didn’t do anything wrong! I didn’t!”

“You need to calm down! And you need to get changed” Tony hissed. “Now, you come with me, and we’ll continue this little chat in your room”

Carol and the others were wise enough not to follow. They all exchanged a look once Tony had led Peter away.

“I’m glad he’s not my dad, I’ll say that much” Wanda said.

“He’s just scared” Bruce said in Tony’s defence. “You know how he gets about his family”

“It’s not really our place to question it” Clint said. “Peter’s his kid”

“Isn’t Loki back yet?” Carol asked.

“He’s in his room” Bruce said. “He got a bit cut up and he generally tends to himself and has a bath after this kinda thing. You know he hates being roped in”

Carol shook her head and sighed. “Better just to leave Tony to have his dad-panic, I guess”

Nat nodded, and looked at Clint. Clint just shrugged, and picked up his mug. He wasn’t getting involved.

-

Tony took Peter to his room, slammed the door behind him, pulled the Spiderman suit off the boy, and gave him a proper spanking. Peter was absolutely beside himself. He cried and cried, and when Tony released him and tried to hug him, he pushed him hard, feeling horribly betrayed.

“No! Don’t touch me! I don’t want you touching me!”

“Peter, come on; don’t be silly” Tony said, pulling him close anyway. “Hey, stop it! You need to try to see things from my point of view. Do you have any idea how much danger you put yourself in today? We told you to stay out of the line of fire, that was a huge part of the plan, and what do you do? You go directly against the plan, against me, and by doing so, you put yourself in danger. Have you any idea how scared I was?!”

“I don’t care! I took him down, I took him down!” he pulled away, standing up. “This isn’t fair!”

“Darling, please” Tony said, standing up too. “You scared me, sweetheart! What if you’d been hit, hey? What if you’d ended up with more than just that little nick on your forehead? I’m your dad; it’s my job to protect you!”

“I don’t need protecting!” Peter cried. “I don’t care how scared you were! It’s no excuse for getting so cross when I didn’t do anything wrong! You hurt me! You hit me!”

“I smacked you, like any good parent would” Tony said. “You disob-”

“It’s still not fair! You’ve been so harsh recently, and it’s not fair!” Peter sobbed, hiding his face in his hands. “It hurts-!”

The door burst open.

“What the hell is going on in here?” Loki demanded, shutting the door behind him.

Peter launched himself into Loki’s arms, burying his face in his chest. 

“Hey, hey, what’s the matter? Are you hurt?” Loki asked worriedly, holding him carefully and looking at Tony for answers.

“He’s just upset” Tony said. 

“He got cross at me for no reason again!” Peter cried. “I’m sick of it! If I’d done something wrong, I wouldn’t mind so much, but I didn’t! I haven’t done anything wrong!”

“Yes, you have!” Tony insisted. “You can’t upset us like that! Putting yourself in harms way, going against orders... How are we supposed to be a proper team if we can’t trust you? I’m just trying to do what’s best for you. I’m your dad!”

“Well I wish you weren’t!” Peter shouted. “I wish you’d never adopted me in the first place!”

“Hey, hey, Peter, that’s an awful thing to say” Loki said, holding the boy at arms length. “Apologise”

“I can’t! I can’t, I’m upset and he needs to know! He needs to know!”

Loki sighed and hugged him again. “Tony, I thought we talked about this”

“I just-”

“Tony, why don’t you give us a minute? It’s ok” 

Tony admitted defeat and left them to it. Loki sat Peter down on the bed and dried his eyes with his sleeve.

“There now. Shh. What’s going on?”

“I know he’s scared” Peter sniffled. “I know he’s just scared, but ever since Kindsprengen appeared, he’s been all overprotective and horrible. He’s cross about today”

Loki sighed. “I know, chick. He was terrified. You went in, and yes, you did well... But for me and dad? Well, even with your face hidden in your little suit, we still see our little boy. And we see that creature gunning for you, and we do go all paternal and we do worry”

“But you didn’t start shouting and hitting me” Peter said, scrubbing his face with the back of his hand.

“I know. But I went straight to my room when I got back. Look. I don’t agree with how harsh your father’s been with you lately. But I do understand” Loki took Peter’s hands in his. “You know how stressed he’s been lately. All these things going on at work, and that story in the press, and then this new threat which, above all, posed a threat to you? It just all got on top of him. He hasn’t handled things anywhere near as well as he should, we both know that. But we also both know there’s things that have triggered this”

“He’s been so tough on me. He really hurt me. Emotionally, you know?”

“I know” Loki hugged him close. “Shh. You’re ok. I’ve got you”

Peter cuddled into him, focusing on his breathing. They were quiet for a little while, and Peter thought about everything, and started to feel a little bit better.

“I didn’t mean it, you know” he said. “I don’t wish he wasn’t my dad. I don’t wish he didn’t adopt me”

“I know, sweetheart. You were just upset” Loki said, kissing him on the cheek. “Now, darling. Can I make a suggestion?”

“...Ok?”

“Go and have a quick shower, take a breather, get dressed into something comfy, and then come and join everyone. You’ll feel better once you’ve had a bit of alone time”

Peter nodded, and slowly slipped off Loki’s lap. He knew he was right.

-

Peter felt much better after having a bit of time to himself. Once he was washed and dressed, he went to join the others. He found them all in the living room, the de-aging ray gun on the coffee table in the middle. They all looked up when he came into the room. Peter looked at Tony. Everyone else looked between them.

“I’m sorry, darling” Tony said. “I’m so sorry”

Tears filled Peter’s eyes. “I’m sorry too!”

Tony held an arm out, and Peter went and crawled onto his lap. Tony held him tight, burying his face in his shoulder, and Peter cuddled against his chest.

“I didn’t mean what I said” Peter whimpered. “I’m glad you’re my dad, I’m glad you adopted me, I really am”

“I know, darling, I know” Tony kissed him hard on the cheek. “I’m sorry for smacking you. It wasn’t fair, I shouldn’t’ve done it, no matter how scared I was. I’m sorry”

“Thank you... I love you, dad!”

“I love you too”

-

Peter stayed cuddled close against Tony’s side while they all had something of a debrief and started talking about what the next step was concerning the ray gun.

“I don’t see what good we could do in the lab here” Bruce said. “Analysing it won’t give us a cure”

“It’s better if I take it straight to Asgard” Thor concluded. “We’ll find a way to reverse it”

“Thank God there weren’t too many casualties” Steve said. “How long will it take to find a cure?”

“I can’t say” Thor said. “Weeks. Maybe even months. I don’t know where these people and their weapon originated. There’s no way to tell how long developing the antidote will take”

“So it’s a waiting game” Steve said. “I suppose there’s a solace”

“What do you mean?” Peter asked.

“Well, the people who were hit by that thing weren’t hurt. Having a teenager turned into a kid is infinitely a better deal than having them in hospital - or worse”

“Morbid” Natasha said. “It’s just weird. There doesn’t seem to be a point to it”

“Perhaps it was boredom” Loki suggested. 

“It’s definitely not the weirdest thing out there” Carol said. “Still, I bet those parents will be relieved to give their kids their teenage lives back. It’ll be strange having a toddler again after watching them grow up”

“Indeed” Thor said. “But Rogers is right; it’s not the worst thing that can happen. We on Asgard will try to perfect a reversal quickly. But at least the victims of that gun are safe. No one else is going to get hit”

They all looked at the purple ray gun on the coffee table.

“It just looks like its made of plastic” Peter said, slipping off Tony’s lap and going over to the coffee table. “It looks like something out of a bad sci-fi film”

“Funny to think of the impact it had” Loki said. “What a strange tool”

“We come across a lot of strange things” Wanda said. “I won’t miss this one”

“Yeah, me neither” Peter said. “Time to get back to normal”

“Yeah, panic over” Clint said.

Peter picked up the gun. It was surprisingly heavy, considering its cheap, plasticy look. He turned it this way and that, and paused, looking down the barrel.

“Peter, put that down!” Tony snapped.

The sudden harsh voice made him jump, and the gun slipped from his hands. There was a collective gasp, and he caught it - but as he did, he grabbed the hand grip, his fingers closing on the inside - around the trigger.

There was a blinding flash, and everyone shielded their eyes, reeling a little from the shock. The fog cleared, and they all quickly turned to look.

There, by the coffee table where Peter had stood, was a tiny child, with big brown eyes and fluffy brown curls, and the ray gun in front of it on the carpet.

*

[strangelock221b]

A new part is done! This takes place right after Ugly Plates and Ice Cream...!

Medicinal Theobromine (AO3)

(cut for length)

Pepper took the two pints out of the freezer and held out Chocolate Therapy to Stephen but he didn’t take it.

“Do you have a towel you can wrap it in?” He looked a little embarrassed. “My hands are sensitive to cold.”

She could’ve kicked herself for forgetting about his injury. “Of course, sorry.” She took the lid off then folded a clean kitchen towel into thirds then wrapped it around the pint before handing it and a spoon to Stephen.

He smiled gratefully. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” She took the lid off her pint then grabbed her spoon and sat down at the kitchen table.

Stephen sat down across from her, smiling a bit as he took his first spoonful. “So…”

“I just realized that I don’t know all that much about you,” Pepper admitted as she started on her own ice cream. “I know you’re a sorcerer, and before that you were a doctor and there was something about a car accident?”

He nodded. “I was a well-respected neurosurgeon, with all the trappings that go along with that. To be honest, I let it all go to my head – I was an arrogant dick and didn’t let anyone really get close to me. The person who came the closest was Dr. Christine Palmer, a colleague of mine.”

“Did you date?” Pepper asked, unexpectedly fascinated. God, he sounds like how Tony was. She mentally winced. I shouldn’t compare the two of them.

“Yes, for about a year,” he said quietly, his eyes on his ice cream as he ate. “She was in love with me but I never allowed myself to fall in love with her, or anyone else, for that matter.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t want to lose control of my life. It was perfect the way I had it, I had the freedom to do whatever I wanted. Being in love would have changed all of that.”

Pepper nodded. “I assume she’s the one who left.”

He smiled a bit. “Good guess. Yeah, she left after an epic shouting match. We still had to work together, which was pretty awkward. Eventually, we became friends.” He paused long enough to take another spoonful. “I fell in love with her while I was half a world away, learning the Mystic Arts, but she had already fallen out of love with me.” He smiled sadly. “At least this time, there wasn’t a fight.”

“I’m sorry,” she said gently, and meant it.

“Thanks. We’re friends again now, and I think that’s what we were meant to be.”

“It’s good that she’s still in your life.”

He nodded. “She was right by my side after the accident. I pushed her away just before I left for Kathmandu, something I’ll never forgive myself for, but she was still willing to help when I came back.”

“She sounds like a very generous person.”

“She is.” He focused on his ice cream and Pepper could tell he was avoiding a topic.

There’s no use ignoring the elephant in the room. “Do you want to talk about the accident?” she asked gently.

He looked up at her, the ghost of a smile on his face. “Not particularly, but if you want to get to know me, I’ll have to talk about it sooner or later.”

“You don’t have to-”

“No, it’s fine.” He sighed quietly. “It wouldn’t have happened if I had any common sense. I was speeding at night on an unfamiliar road through a rainstorm to get to a dinner where I was supposed to give a speech.” He smiled weakly. “As if that wasn’t bad enough, I had my assistant on the speakerphone and I kept taking my eyes off the road to look at X-rays he sent me.”

She stared at him. “Were you normally that reckless?”

He shrugged. “That’s the thing – I didn’t see it as being reckless, I saw it as a situation I could perfectly handle.”

“You did that a lot?”

“Not the unfamiliar road and the rainstorm, but driving and being on the phone with my assistant while he sent me info on potential cases? All the time.”

Her eyes widened. “And this was your only accident?”

“Yes. I’d get the occasional speeding ticket, but that’s it.”

Pepper shook her head in amazement then she stared at him. “Was there another car involved?”

“Yes, I clipped the side of a car and spun out. From what the police told me after, she wasn’t hurt at all.”

“Thank God,” she murmured.

Stephen nodded. “My memory of the crash basically stops there. The police said I went over the side and ended up with the car nose-down in the water. I’m lucky I didn’t drown.” He looked down at his hands, adding quietly, “Flying debris tore through my hands. It took several surgeries to even get them to this point.” He held up his left hand and it trembled. “At the time, I told everyone that I would’ve succeeded in saving the patient’s dexterity if the accident had happened to someone else but honestly, I’ve looked at my charts, the X-rays, everything, and I can accept now that even I couldn’t have done much more than what the doctors did for me.”

Pepper held out her hand. “May I?” she asked gently.

He regarded her for a moment then he stuck his spoon into the pint and laid his hand in hers. She could see the raised, reddish scars from the surgeries and smaller, incidental scars she assumed he received from the battles he’d been in. His hand was large, long-fingered, and still elegant despite the scars.

She looked up at him. “Do they hurt still?”

He nodded. “Constantly. Pain is something I’ve learned to set aside when I need to focus.”

“Do you take anything for it?”

“Any painkillers that are strong enough to do more than just take the edge off leave me in a fog and that’s too dangerous for someone guarding the planet.”

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, releasing his hand.

“Thank you.” He then told her of his search for a cure that led him to Kathmandu and a sorceress who saw more in him than he saw in himself. When he told her about the Ancient One’s death, Pepper felt her eyes welling up over a woman she’d never met. He smiled gently. “She would have liked you – a strong woman who loves fiercely and takes no shit from anyone.”

She couldn’t help smiling. “Thank you, but I don’t feel very strong these days.”

“You are,” he insisted gently. “You’ve been through more in the past fifteen years than many people have in their entire lifetimes and you’re still fighting, but none of it has made you bitter or cold.”

“I won’t let it,” she admitted quietly. “I can’t do that to myself. My mother was bitter after my parents’ divorce and it ate her up inside, I can’t let that happen to me. Morgan deserves so much more than that.”

“So do you, Pepper. You deserve the world.”

Pepper smiled sadly. “I had the world – I had Tony, Morgan, and our friends. Without Tony, my world has … condensed.”

“It could expand again.”

“Yes, but there will always be a gaping hole where Tony was, like the crater left behind after a meteor hits.”

He smiled gently. “Tony did know how to make an impact.”

Pepper giggled, she couldn’t help it. “That he did.” She finished her ice cream and set the empty container and spoon aside. “What’s next for you, Stephen?”

“Big picture or little picture?”

“Both.”

“Big picture, protecting the planet. Wanda asked me if I’d help her develop her powers. Her magic is completely different than mine, but I think I can still help.”

Pepper nodded. “That sounds like a good distraction for you. What about the little picture?”

Stephen smiled a bit. “Honestly? Checking on you was my only plan for today. Since you’re doing as well as can be expected, I’ll go back to the Sanctum and probably catch up on my reading – a lot came out when I was in the Soul Realm, I still haven’t read it all.” He finished his ice cream then stood up, took her container and spoon, then dumped the two containers in the garbage and put the spoons in the dishwasher.

Pepper had the feeling that was his way of telling her he didn’t want to talk about the Soul Realm. She decided not to push. Getting up, she said, “I can give you my number, you can call me if you ever need anything,” she smiled a bit, “even if it’s just someone other than Wong to talk to.”

Stephen chuckled. “He does tend to talk a person’s ear off. Alright, and I can give you mine. The same goes for you – call me if you need anything.”

“I will.” She walked him out and watched as he opened a portal to what she assumed was the inside of the Sanctum Sanctorum and walk through it. As soon as the portal closed behind him, she heard a voice in her head that, despite being her own imagination, sounded so much like Tony that she couldn’t help but smile.

He’ll be good for you, Pep.

Her smile widened. I think you’re right.

And if he’s not, I’ll come back and haunt his ass.

Pepper laughed softly as she went back into the house.