#these car biscuits have become my favorite thing

[unhinged-nymph]

Grabby hands :)

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Against Lore

For the rest of May, my bestselling solarpunk utopian novel THE LOST CAUSE (2023) is available as a $2.99, DRM-free ebook!

One of my favorite nuggets of writing advice comes from James D Macdonald. Jim, a Navy vet with an encylopedic knowledge of gun lore, explained to a group of non-gun people how to write guns without getting derided by other gun people: "just add the word 'modified.'"

As in, "Her modified AR-15 kicked against her shoulder as she squeezed the trigger, but she held it steady on the car door, watching it disintegrate in a spatter of bullet-holes."

Jim's big idea was that gun people couldn't help but chew away at the verisimilitude of your fictional guns, their brains would automatically latch onto them and try to find the errors. But the word "modified" hijacked that impulse and turned it to the writer's advantage: a gun person's imagination gnaws at that word "modified," spinning up the cleverest possible explanation for how the gun in question could behave as depicted.

In other words, the gun person's impulse to one-up the writer by demonstrating their superior knowledge becomes an impulse to impart that superior knowledge to the writer. "Modified" puts the expert and the bullshitter on the same team, and conscripts the expert into fleshing out the bullshitter's lies.

Yes, writing is lying. Storytelling is genuinely weird. A storyteller who has successfully captured the audience has done so by convincing their hindbrains to care about the tribulations of imaginary people. These are people whose suffering, by definition, do not matter. Imaginary things didn't happen, so they can't matter. The deaths of Romeo and Juliet were less tragic than the death of the yogurt you had for breakfast. That yogurt was alive and now it's dead, whereas R&J never lived, never died, and don't matter:

https://locusmag.com/2014/11/cory-doctorow-stories-are-a-fuggly-hack/

Hijacking a stranger's empathic response is intrinsically adversarial. While storytelling is a benign activity, its underlying mechanic is extremely dangerous. Getting us to care about things that don't matter is how novels and movies work, but it's also how cults and cons work.

Cult leaders and con-artists know that they're engaged in mind-to-mind combat, and they make liberal use of Jim's hack of leaving blank spots for the mark to fill in. Think of Qanon drops: the mystical nonsense was just close enough to sensical that a vulnerable audience was compelled to try and untangle them, and ended up imparting more meaning to them than the hustler who posted them ever could have dreamt up.

Same with cons – there's a great scene in the Leverage: Redemption heist show where an experienced con-artist explains to a novice that the most convincing hustle is the one where you wait for the mark to tell you what they think you're doing, then run with it (scambaiters and other skeptics will recognize this as a relative of the "cold reading," where a "psychic" uses your own confirmations to flesh out their predictions).

As Douglas Adams put it:

A towel has immense psychological value. For some reason, if a strag (strag: non-hitch hiker) discovers that a hitch hiker has his towel with him, he will automatically assume that he is also in possession of a toothbrush, face flannel, soap, tin of biscuits, flask, compass, map, ball of string, gnat spray, wet weather gear, space suit etc., etc. Furthermore, the strag will then happily lend the hitch hiker any of these or a dozen other items that the hitch hiker might accidentally have "lost". What the strag will think is that any man who can hitch the length and breadth of the galaxy, rough it, slum it, struggle against terrible odds, win through, and still knows where his towel is is clearly a man to be reckoned with.

Magicians know this one, too. The point of a sleight is to misdirect the audience's attention, and use that moment of misattention to trick them, vanishing, stashing or producing something. The mark's mind is caught in a pleasurable agony: something seemingly impossible just happened. The mind splits into two parts, one of which insists that the impossible just happened, the other insisting that the impossible can't happen.

You know you've done it right if the audience says, "Do that again!" And that's the one thing you must not do. So long as you don't repeat the trick, the audience's imagination will chew on it endlessly, coming up with incredibly clever things that you must have done (a clever conjurer will know several ways to produce the same effect and will "do it again" by reproducing the effect via different means, which exponentially increases the audience's automatic imputation of clever methods to the performer).

Not for nothing, Jim Macdonald advises his writing students to study Magic and Showmanship, a classic text for aspiring conjurers:

https://memex.craphound.com/2007/11/13/magic-and-showmanship-classic-book-about-conjuring-has-many-lessons-for-writers/

There's a version of this in comedy, too. The scholarship of humor is clear on this: comedy comes from surprise. The audience knows they're about to be surprised when the punchline lands, and their mind is furiously trying to defuse the comedian's bomb before it detonates, cycling through potential punchlines of their own. This ramps up the suspense and the tension, so when the comedian does drop the punchline, the tension is released in a whoosh of laughter.

Your mind wants the tension to be resolved ASAP, but the pleasure comes from having that desire thwarted. Comedy – like most performance – has an element of authoritarianism. You don't give the audience what it wants, you give it what it needs.

Same goes for TTRPGs: the game master's role is to deny the players the victories and treasure they want, until they can't take it anymore, and then deliver it. That's the definition of an epic game. It's one of the durable advantages of human GMs over video game back-ends: they can ramp up the epicness by "cheating" on the play, giving the players the chance to squeak out improbable victories at the last possible second:

https://wilwheaton.typepad.com/wwdnbackup/2009/03/behind-the-screen.html

This is so effective that even crude approximations of it can turn video-games into cult hits – like Left4Dead, whose "Director" back-end would notice when the players were about to get destroyed and then substantially ramped up the chances of finding an amazing weapon – the chance would still be low overall, but there would be enough moments when the player got exactly what they'd been praying for, at the last possible instant, that it would feel amazing:

https://left4dead.fandom.com/wiki/The_Director#Special_Infected

Critically, Left4Dead's Director didn't do this every time. As any showman knows, the key to a great performance is "Always leave 'em wanting more." The musician's successful finale depends on doing every encore the audience demands, except the last one, so the crowd leaves with one tantalyzing and imaginary song playing in their minds, a performance better than any the musicians themselves could have delivered. Like the gun person who comes up with a cooler mod than the writer ever could, like the magic show attendee who comes up with a more elaborate explanation for the sleight than the conjurer could ever pull off, like the comedy club attendee whose imagination anticipates a surprise that grows larger the longer the joke goes on, the successful performance is an adversarial act of cooperation where the audience willingly and unwillingly cooperates with the performer to deny them the thing that they think they need, and deliver the thing they actually need.

This is my biggest problem with the notion that someday LLMs will get good enough at storytelling to give us the tales we demand, without having to suffer through a storyteller's sadistic denial of the resolutions we crave. When I'm reading a mystery, I want to turn to the last page and find out whodunnit, but I know that doing so will ruin the story. Telling the storyteller how the story should go is like trying to tickle yourself.

Like being tickled, experiencing only fun if the tickler respects your boundaries – but, like being tickled, there's always a part where you're squirming away, but you don't want it to stop. An AI storyteller that gives you exactly what you want is like a dungeon master who declares that every sword-swing kills the monster, and every treasure chest is full of epic items and platinum pieces. Yes, that's what you want, but if you get it, what's the point?

Seen in this light, performance is a kind of sado-masochism, where the performer delights in denying something to the audience, who, in turn, delights in the denial. Don't give the audience what they want, give them what they need.

What your audience needs is their own imagination. Decades ago, I was a freelance copywriter producing sales materials for Alias/Wavefront, a then-leading CGI firm that was inventing all kinds of never-seen VFX that would blow people away. One of the engineers I worked with told me something I never forgot: "Your imagination has more polygons than anything you can create with our software." He was talking about why it was critical to have some of the action happen in the shadows.

All of this is why series tend to go downhill. The first volume in any series leaves so much to the imagination. The map of the world is barely fleshed out, the characters' biographies are full of blank spots, the mechanics of the artifacts and the politics of the land are all just detailed enough that your mind automatically ascribes a level of detail to them, without knowing what that detail is.

This is the moment at which everything seems very clever, because your mind is just churning with all the different bits of elaborate lore that will fill in those lacunae and make them all fit together.

SPOILER ALERT: I'm about to give some spoilers for Furiosa.

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FURIOSA SPOILERS AHEAD!

Last night, we went to see Furiosa, the latest Mad Max movie, a prequel to 2015's Fury Road, which is one of the greatest movies ever made. Like most prequels, Furiosa functions as a lore-delivery vehicle, and as such, it's nowhere near as good as Fury Road.

Fury Road hints as so much worldbuilding. We learn about the three fortresses of the wasteland (the Citadel, the Bullet Farm, and Gastown) but we only see one (The Citadel). We learn that these three cities have a symbiotic relationship with one another, defined by a complex politics that is just barely stable. We meet Furiosa herself, and learn something of her biography – that she had been stolen from the Green Place, that she had suffered an arm amputation.

All of this is left for us to fill in, and for a decade, my hindbrain has been chewing on all of that, coming up with cool ways it could all fit together. I yearned to know the "real" explanation, but it was always unlikely that this real explanation would be as enjoyable as my own partial, ever-unfinished headcanon.

Furiosa is a great movie, but its worst parts are the canonical lore it settles. Partly, that's because some of that lore is just stupid. Why is the Bullet Farm an open-pit mine? I mean, it's visually amazing, but what does that have to do with making bullets? Sometimes, it's because the lore is banal – the solarpunk Green Place is a million times less cool than I had imagined it. Sometimes, it's because the lore is banal and stupid: the scenes where Furiosa's arm is crushed, then severed, then replaced, are both rushed and quasi-miraculous:

https://www.themarysue.com/how-does-furiosa-lose-her-arm/

But even if the lore had been good – not stupid, not banal – the best they could have hoped for was for the lore to be tidy. If it were surprising, it would seem contrived. A story whose loose ends have been tidily snipped away seems like it would be immensely satisfying, but it's not satisfying – it's just resolved. Like the band performing every encore you demand, until you no longer want to hear the band anymore – the feeling as you leave the hall isn't satisfaction, it's exhaustion.

So long as some key question remains unresolved, you're still wanting more. So long as the map has blank spots, your hindbrain will impute clever and exciting mysteries, tantalyzingly teetering on the edge of explicability, to the story.

Lore is always better as something to anticipate than it is to receive. The fans demand lore, but it should be doled out sparingly. Always leave 'em wanting more.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/27/cmon-do-it-again/#better_to_remain_silent_and_be_thought_a_fool_than_to_speak_and_remove_all_doubt

[anadiasmount]

Married life with Jude!!

headcannon for jude bc i’ve never done one! hope you enjoy! 🧟‍♀️🤍

masterlist | jude’s masterlist | send requests/ concepts!

would def introduce/call you as “wife” everywhere you go. doesn’t matter where you guys are headed he would so go “this is my wife y/n.” would make me feel so giddy i will not lie 😣😔

kiss your ring finger whenever he pleases, or when he notices you becoming nervous or anxious because he knows how much kisses with you mean. “relax darling, it’s us. me and you.”

have a random argument in the morning and jude being first to apologize bc he one, hates to see you upset bc of him, two due to the fact he hates when you’re not talking to him, and three bc he hates fighting especially with you. “forgive me okay? i didn’t mean it.”

would text you whenever either of you are out to check in, and starts the text with “wife…” or “husband” to remind to pick something up, or send a quick i love you text, to tell you about their days or something funny you guys saw, to say they miss each other. props if they send pictures instead of just texting.

on random occasions would pull out your wedding photos because it’s the most memorable and unforgettable night of his life. would explain to you how he felt in that moment and pull you his chest and tell you he loves you so much.

calls you “mrs. bellingham” to get your attention or walks into the room bc you and him love it. friends and family would make fun of you and you would shy away from it, but jude just smirks bc deep down it’s a reminder to everyone you’re married to him.

the two of you spending every morning together before he leaves for training or away games, having your daily tea/coffee with cookies/biscuits because you hate being apart even if it’s for just a little bit. “gonna miss you so much angel. wait for me so we can grocery shopping okay?”

LATE NIGHT TALKS BECAUSE WHATTT??? i have trouble sleeping at night and he would def stay up with you and you the same with him when you can’t sleep and just talk about kids, pets, friends and family, work, about the old times when you first got together.

brings you your favorite bouquet of flowers when he comes back from away duty, never getting over the fact that you’re married to him. kissing your forehead first and then leaning down to connect your lips together. “your favorite flowers, but you’re my favorite flower beautiful.”

annoys the shit out of you when he’s sick or clingy, begging for you to hold him and kiss his cheeks or temple because you apparently take the pain away. your hands massaging down his back and neck to smooth him, but sometimes he pretends just so he can feel you. “i need my wife to be with me in ‘sickness and in health’ remember?”

when back in england he loves doing date night at late night. takes you on walks after dinner and treats you to ice cream, buys you something to remember the night. his hand on your thigh in the car or around your waist when walking. “look so pretty for me. why are you so beautiful, wife?”

BYE IM SORRY BUT HES THE TYPE TO BUY SHIRTS THAT SAY “my wife” “his wife” and “my husband” “her husband” and force you go to public wearing them because he thinks it’s hilarious. “i’m sorry i can’t. i need a good laugh. please baby? do it for me?”

buys you small presents because he can’t stop spoiling you. “for you my wife. don’t start with that because i have every right to do anything to make you smile.”

would pull up to your work place when you least expect it and wait in your office/ designated area to eat lunch when he’s off. you would tell him all the gossip or topic of the day to reach, and he’s attentively listening because he loves hearing about the silliest thing that occur in your work place. everyone would just stare at the two of you in awe because you are the definition of couple goals.

when you attend his matches you would surprise him with a “his wife #5” jersey and he would smile wide and pull you close after the match ends. he would make fun of you at first but he loves the idea bc he know it’s a reminder to not him but the whole world. “my wife indeed. it’s gonna become my favorite jersey you’ve worn. gotta remind everyone who your husband is right?”

a relationship especially when married isn’t one sided, so the two of you always go above and beyond to make each other happy even if it’s the smallest word or action. squeeze in a cuddle even if it’s not appropriate timing. always communicating about how you to ensure the two of you are okay.

even the smallest glances you send when you’re not together, it’s glances like those that will never fail to put a smile on each others faces. like the of you would be the only humans alive.

[epigstolary]

The Middle of Nowhere, Part Two

I once said that my feeder didn’t have to do anything to keep me on his farm. That I was building my own prison there, bite by bite. And that’s still true — but only partly true. The farm may be a long way away from anything — town, other people, even the road that’s our only real connection to society — and it may as well be a desert island for someone too big to drive a car or walk further than the yard, but it isn’t my prison. Because my prison isn’t a place.

Things started to change when it got difficult even to go outside to our porch. I don’t mean they changed with my feeder; he was still as caring and doting as ever. He started bringing me my snacks once I got big enough that just shuffling out the front door took all my energy and attention. I had to watch where I placed every step of my bloated legs, laden with fat that looked like bags of cottage cheese, and hold on to the walls and the railing along the porch to keep my belly and chest fat from sloshing sideways and pulling me over. Even those few steps left me breathless and my heart pounding by the time I got settled on my bench; but it was worth it to have a plate of his biscuits and gravy or chicken and dumplings, under that big sky beyond our little farm, gilded with another sunset. And even when my bench finally gave way after one too many helpings of both, he dusted off his woodworking kit and put it back together, reinforced and better than new.

But by then, we both knew it was only a temporary fix. It wouldn’t be long before there’d be no way I could maneuver myself out there every day, and he could tell how being cooped up inside would drive me crazy after a while. If I was going to do anything other than sit mostly alone on the couch all day, we were going to have to find another way.

His first innovation was to invite people over for dinner — farmhands, friends, folks he knew from town that he could get to come to me even if I couldn’t go to them. And they were good company, in a lot of ways; they’d bring a taste of the outside world with them. They might talk about how the crops were doing, recount some recent anecdote from working out in the fields or going into town, opine on some petty local politics or gossip. And it was nice to hear about something other than what was going on within the confines of our little farm — an outside world that it was increasingly impossible for me to get to. But really, it was hard for the focus not to turn around to me. Nobody was ever rude the first time they met me; but it was rare not to see either a reaction of stifled surprise, or else a glassy look of unseeing, a conscious attempt not to notice the half-ton of fat flowing and bulging out of my ill-fitting clothes.

It didn’t help that, with me never leaving the farm, there weren’t many topics of conversation other than myself and food that our guests could engage with me about. When the conversation didn’t turn to recent meals or my favorite foods, which usually elicited at least warm agreement about the country staples forming much of my diet, it turned to how I spent most of my day. We’d do our usual face-saving song and dance about what I did to take care of the house while my partner was out working in the field — all of it lies, and increasingly transparent lies as my limited ability to even move became more obvious at higher weights — and how I was getting ready to start losing some weight. I’d talk about how I really wanted to get healthier, get out and about more often; and they’d smile and nod, giving tepid approval and encouragement.

The thing is, I really did mean it. I really did want to get down to a size where I could at least walk around outside again, maybe even drive a car into town and go to the little greasy spoon like I used to. It was becoming discouraging to have every step, every reach, every movement blocked or restrained by the fat smothering every inch of my body. But our guests knew full well I didn’t have a prayer of keeping to a diet or an exercise routine. It was even more obvious to those who’d visited before, and who saw me even more bloated, even more out of shape than the last time they were there.

The actual meals certainly made them think that, if they hadn’t before. My partner would serve a spread fit for a dozen people — something like a barbecue buffet, a whole turkey with all the fixings, a tray of lasagna — and I’d end up eating everything that was left after the others had their fill. Long after their places had been cleared away, I’d still be gobbling up the heaping plates my partner would keep bringing me until every scrap of food was gone. Since I couldn’t last very long at the dining table anymore, usually we’d sit around the living room, and they would basically watch me gorge myself — tits and chins wobbling as I’d chew, plate sitting on my enormous belly so my blubbery arms could rest on the sweep of my side rolls while I cut and speared each bite. It was obvious to everyone, I guess even to me, that I was never going to drop a pound if I couldn’t resist completely abandoning myself to food like that. By the end of the meal, I’d be stuffed full, taking up the entire couch and looking enormous, almost too drowsy from overeating to notice the expressions passing between our guests, their looks of amusement or disgust or astonishment at what was apparently a typical dinner for me. Sometimes they’d even whisper about it, thinking I was asleep. I wasn’t.

From the front window of the house, I could watch them drive away, taillights receding toward that distant road where proper civilization began again. Probably recapping the dinner and my obscene size and appetite with horrified amazement. They’d been merely passing through, tourists in my isolated bubble, visiting their friend’s or boss’s blob of a partner out of courtesy but with no real desire to bring me into the fold. They could make things more tolerable, but they’d never be any real help in connecting with the world again.

Then one day, my partner’s beat-up old pickup disappeared, and he pulled into the yard in a gleaming new one, looking unusually excited for him and expectantly at me. I was puzzled — by that point, I was already too big to heave myself up into the cab of any pickup. But then I saw the truck bed — more specifically, the crane and winch rising from the front corner. My stomach did a somersault at the sight of him rigging up a harness meant for lifting cows and pigs into the bed; it was a way to let me get off the farm, sure, but at a pretty steep price in dignity. It was as good as an admission that I’d eaten myself far too fat to rejoin the world like a normal person, probably for good.

But the temptation to be somewhere else, anywhere else, was too much. A day or two later, my partner was helping me waddle out the front door and down the steps toward the driveway. Months indoors had obscured just how much my body had changed in even that short amount of time. My legs had both bloated considerably and weakened since my last walk through the yard, making every step like having to lift heavy bags of molasses just to advance a few inches at a time. My belly hung lower and broader than I remembered, physically holding back my steps and making it harder to twist my upper body to steady my walk. My side rolls and bicep blubber fought one another for space, pushing my arms up and sending fat bunching around my neck and shoulders. I was an out-of-breath mess by the time I maneuvered myself around and collapsed into the harness.

The sensation of my weight being lifted slowly off the ground, suspended and moved by an object completely out of my control, sent a surreal thrill through me. My hundreds of pounds, cradled in the harness, wobbled and jiggled with its slow movements, and for the most part I had no choice but to be carried along with my body’s jostling inertia. Even more than usual, I was buried under my immense belly and tits, my bloated legs were lifted level with the rest of my body, and my flab-laden arms — if they’d even been strong enough to do anything — had nowhere to grasp to help stabilize my sloshing bulk. The crane and winch cracked and creaked as it labored to move my weight, lifted me over the sides and into position facing the tailgate, and lowered me onto some foam padding my partner had arranged into a kind of makeshift couch against the rear window. I didn’t fill the truck bed — but there wasn’t room to sit next to me, either.

I’ve never felt a mixture of emotions like I did on that first drive back into town. On the one hand, it felt so amazingly free — finding myself on that once impossibly-distant road, our farm receding into the distance as fields and hills sped by. Fresh air, and the wind in my hair. But then, as buildings grew closer together and we started rolling into downtown, my blood ran cold — I’m a half-ton blob taking up most of the back of a pickup truck, too fat to walk or move, coming to town like a circus attraction, I thought. People were going to react.

I’m sure a lot of it was in my mind. I’m sure I was self-conscious, reading intent into every glance and word and gesture, most of the time when it wasn’t there. But it felt like every last person in the town had turned out to stare at my huge form being paraded down main street. Me looking out over the expanse of lard occupying the truck bed and smothering my body. Blubber sloshing uncontrollably every time we turned a corner. Kids pointing at the enormous fatty passing by, their shouts being stifled by nervous and disgusted parents. Skinny people casting sideways glances at the pickup, stopped at a stoplight, as they muttered to each other amid broad grins.

And that was when I realized. It didn’t matter where I was — on the farm, in town, on stage with a million people watching. I had let myself get fattened past the point where I could exist in this world and connect with it ever again. Even when I was right in the middle of it, I was as far removed from these people as if I’d still been back on the farm. I’m never going to be walking around with them, shopping with them, just existing in the spaces they exist in. I literally don’t fit in, even if I could haul around all the blubber I’ve accumulated under my own power. And I’m just as alien to them — someone five times their weight, who can’t control their appetite any better than to get this big, someone they can deride or pity or judge with impunity.

On the drive back to the farm, under a starry indigo sky and with a backseat full of fast food from the town’s only chain, I had to wonder about my feeder. Whether he really was trying to get me out of the house. Or did he know? Had he already figured out that I was too big for it to matter where I was — that the thick rolls dominating my body and the sacks of fat hanging off my limbs would keep me his, even if I’d tried to get someone to help me leave? That this drive would do nothing more than to show me a world, a life, that my fat — his fat — would never let me go back to?

The thought lodged in the back of my mind as he gently helped hoist me, every inch wobbling and quivering, out of the truck bed. He led my bulk, step by exhausted step, back inside and to my usual divot on the couch. And as he got me comfortable, spreading the buffet of greasy, fatty food out before me, and as I bit into the first of ten thick double cheeseburgers, his too-kind smile and his gaze that lingered on my bulging gut for an instant too long told me everything I needed to know.

The farm isn’t my prison. My body is.

[sitp-recs]

omg hello I hope ur having a good day. do u read crackfics or humor and if so do u have any favorites? I enjoy ur recs so I'm kinda 😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️ Trying To See

Hi there! I hope your day is going well too 😊 I don’t read crack-ish fics often but I definitely have some favourites! I hope you enjoy these as much as I did:

Receipts by @moonflower-rose (M, 2k)

Pansy and Ginny have made a stupid wager and Draco may be the one who comes away a winner.

Never Gonna Give You Up by InnerLilith (E, 5k)

Five times Harry rickrolls Draco and one time Draco gets him back.

The Full Monty by @magpiefngrl (E, 10k)

Harry poses for a naked Auror calendar and Draco goes batshit crazy with lust.

Per my last letter (I hope you choke on it) by @fluxweeed and @lastontheboat (T, 10k)

Or: the one where Harry has writer’s block and Malfoy isn’t helping.

Aural Gratification by birdsofshore (E, 11k)

Harry's not gay – he just likes listening to exciting stories about Aurors. It's not his fault that the narrator's voice is so smooth, so expressive... and really rather hot. Check the podfic by agentmoppet here!

Title of Their Sex Tape by Cibee (T, 12k)

What are the Wizarding world's most elite law enforcers doing when they aren't catching criminals? It seems Auror Malfoy is often caught throwing food into Auror Potter's mouth when he's mid-yawn.

Crash (Into Me) by @sweet-s0rr0w (T, 14k)

Harry’s done plenty of ridiculous things for charity over the years, but Robards’ latest scheme really takes the biscuit. Or rather, the teacake.

you look so fine by michi_thekiller (E, 16k)

In which Draco is a Veela and Harry is his mate. Dark!Humor or Crack!Horror, you decide.

Draco Malfoy: Toilet Supremo by who_la_hoop (T, 26k)

It must be a vision brought on by eating cheese sarnies too close to bedtime, Harry thinks. There's no way that Draco Malfoy can really be standing on his doorstep, calling himself a Toilet Supremo, and expecting Harry to buy not only this unlikeliest of scenarios, but also a new loo.

Little Red Courgette by @blamebrampton (T, 31k)

When this season's purple courgettes are woefully thin, Draco Malfoy thinks it amounts to small beans. Next thing he knows, the Department of Standards is over-run with leeks, Brussels sprouts all sorts of legislative difficulties, and somebody appears to have put a roquette under Harry Potter. Can Draco seize a marrow victory? Or will his plans for peas be squashed?

The Four Ds of Apparition (or: Destination, Determination, Deliberation, and Dicks) by @eidheann and @firethesound (E, 36k)

After transferring to the Apparition Department, Harry's life becomes one big dick joke. And all his friends are arseholes. So is Malfoy, but what else is new? AKA Harry Potter and the eighteen twenty dicks.

Bite Me, Hate Memes by pir8fancier (E, 44k)

Draco Malfoy is incensed to realize that someone is trying to usurp his position as the premier Harry Potter hater.

The Liars Department by @dorthyanndrarry (T, 103k)

This is a story about Harry meeting up with Draco Malfoy four years after the war. And a story about Harry, well, not hating his job per say, but it's not like he has much to compare it to and it seemed fine. His whole life seemed fine. Then Malfoy came along with and his flashy suits and fast car making everything seem dull in comparison, and Harry... Harry couldn't just leave well enough alone.

[ookami-tsun]

hello may i request for platonic zhongli and reader headcanons where the reader thinks of zhongli as their father figure ?? thanks alot !!!

Zhongli, my dad

This story is unedited and might or might not undergo some minor changes

Scenario 1: Going to school

You woke up late, only waking up as you smell delicious breakfast as you start to become more awake

As you rush to prepare for school, Zhongli made you sit down to have your breakfast

Zhongli flipping an egg while wearing apron and turning towards you to greet you "good morning"

He packs your back while telling you what you supposed to prepare for today's outing

Since you are late, Zhongli decided to go work slightly later (No one will complain much since he is always strict and serious at work and is great contributor to them) so that he can bring you to school. Your school attendance is much more important

Despite you telling him many times that he should not worry about you and just go for work, he still making you still in the car

You start the car up (and arrange things that are messily placed in car for his work) and sit in the passenger side waiting for Zhongli, he brought you a bento

"No matter how rush you are, you should not forget to take your lunch, what if you get too hungry to walk and fall?"

Scenario 2: Returning home

You are released from class and rushing to go home to prepare for a project work outside school (also to avoid pestering of noisy people from school trying to hit on Zhongli through you)

"Y/N!"

You turned around and find Zhongli leaning against his car as you are walking pass the carpark.

"Zhongli," you run towards him and he gave you a rub on the head "... w-wait... Why are you here? What about work?"

"I heard that you have project outside and the time is really tight, get in the car, I will drive you around. I happen to be on break right now" (Liar... You knew that I have project outside and came to fetch me...)

You feel annoyed from those persistent people in school and now you want to avoid him (so he won't have the chance to bring drive you around when he is supposed to be working), but he opened the door and push your back gently to make you enter the car before he goes to the driver seat.

Before you can get the seatbelt, he leans over and help you with it before helping himself.

Zhongli starts driving while passing biscuit and water over

"How is your school today?" He asks as you started eating albert unwilling (But you know how stubborn he will be if you forgo to eat when you are angry)

Having asked by him frequently on this topic, you didn't think twice before you started talking about problems you face today, which he gives you advices and offers views on them. Hearing his voice and advice does wonders to you as you get more comfortable and less stressed

Scenario 3: Before gathering with friend for project

Feeling tired, you went to your room for a shower and laid on bed for a short nap before getting called awake by Zhongli to have lunch before leaving

You went to the kitchen room after freshening up, and by then, Zhongli prepared simple meal consisting your favorites (After knowing that you were getting frustrated by people annoying you to be introduced to him)

He places food into your bowl while you eat and tries to put huge check into your bag, luckily you noticed and stopped him, earning a frown as he complain that you might not have enough money to spend later

After eating, he inquired about your meeting spot as he wipes your face after you done eating.

*Reaches the meeting area*

Warns you about how you might be hit on by other people and how to avoid

Becomes long-winded on past incidents and cases of "kids" getting kidnapped after getting tricked by people giving sweets...

"Oh my Archons...! I am not a kid and is now a young adult!"

"No, you will always be a kid and will never grow up"

You huff and pouted at him which caused him to laugh while patting your head

You got annoyed and tried to leave, but before you could open the door, Zhongli pulled you towards him and gives you a hug before letting go.

Shouting out a "thank you!", you rush off so that he would not have anymore chance to find something else to nag about.

After leaving, you felt your phone vibrate. Zhongli messaged you and tells you to call him if you are have any problems no matter how minor it is.

[linphd]

Hello~ Can I request an Aizawa x reader where him and his wife adopt Eri and Shinso, and they sort of reminisced and remember the first time the two call the reader mom (separate occasions). Recently read something like this, thought it was cute.

Aizawa kids call Y/N ‘’mom’’ | Headcanons

female reader

-> Eri is officially adopted in this one, but Shinsou still lives with his actual parents. He just considers you both as paternal and maternal figures.

Eri

Eri knew Shouta even before the official adoption because he became her paternal figure right after she got saved from Overhaul. However, she met you only when Shouta decided he was going to adopt her officially.

Obviously, he wanted her to meet you way before becoming her adoptive mother. You were maybe even more stressed than Eri herself. What if she didn’t like you ?

But you two became friends actually really fast and Eri was really happy that she was going to live with you. She didn’t understand fully the fact that you and Shouta were her mother and her father now, but she would understand eventually.

She actually called your husband « Shouta » for a long time, but she eventually ended up calling him dad. You were still « Y/N » for her, and even though you didn’t mind being called that way, you still hoped she would understand you were her mom.

One day, as Shouta was teaching, you took Eri to the aquarium. Of course, it was her first time ever going to a place like this. She was kind of scared of the jellyfishes, but she liked « the one that looked like Nemo » - you had watched Finding Nemo beforehand with her only so she would recognize the fishes.

You ate together and kept visiting, and you held her hand the whole way. « So, you liked looking at the fishes with me ? » you asked on your way back to the car. She gave you a huge smile, squeezing your hand. « Yes, mommy ! » she said.

You blinked before looking at her. You didn’t want to point it out, but you really felt happy being called a mom. « We’ll do some other mother-daughter days then ! » she nodded, still smiling. It was the first thing you told Shouta once he got home.

Hitoshi Shinsou

At first, you didn’t know much about Shinsou. He was a kid Shouta was personally training, but the kid even ignored your existence as you were never home whenever he was training.

You would only see him from time to time, whenever you would walk past the training room door, waving occasionally at Shouta if he wasn’t busy. That is when Shinsou acknowledged your existence.

Throughout time, as Shinsou was training more and more and even on the weekends now, you would sometimes watch them train together, and even offer them some drinks or biscuits.

After some months, Shinsou really became close to Shouta, so much that your husband would call him his favorite student. He was sometimes babysitting Eri whenever you two weren’t available, and he began to see you both as other parents.

He started to playfully call Shouta « dad » whenever he would scold him or give him advice during training. Shouta didn’t care much, but it managed to make him snort sometimes.

You would also giggle whenever Shinsou was acting like a member of your family, even more when Eri would start to think that he really was her brother.

You didn’t expect, however, what happened when you baked him a cake with Eri for his birthday. Despite having celebrated it with his real family, you still wanted to make Shinsou a little something. « Thanks, mom. » he playfully said. But it did manage to make you feel nice.

yeaaah so I think I’m gonna write again so if y’all have some ideas I’m all ears (I have some requests for a sugar daddy endeavor and a monoma smut again, I think it’s what I’m going to start with)

I hope I’ll be able to write on my other blogs again though 👉🏻👈🏻

[justthehiddleswrites]

Accidently Married | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 4 | You should worry about the people you care about. I mean, I worry about you all the time.

A/N:  Tom makes certain comments about an ex (who is unnamed).  It is a fictional girlfriend, take from it what you will.  Keep your hate to yourself.  

SERIES MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Molly Bishop)

Summary: Tom is stuck in a news cycle from hell; Molly is stuck in the dead end job of bartending with a pile of student and credit debt.  Tom has an idea to solve all their problems.  Get married, get the paparazzi off his back, divorce after a year and Tom pays off Molly’s debts.  Tom has everything figured out, that is until he sees Molly as more than a just a friend and so does someone else.  In this vying for affections who will win, the handsome Brit or the boy from Boston?

This Chapter: Molly is making friends and life is settling into a routine until Molly gets sick and Tom takes care of her.  

Warnings: fake marriage, smut (vaginal sex), mentions of:  child abuse/neglect, foster care, substance abuse, cheating.

TAGLIST IS OPEN! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED!  THANK YOU FOR READING!

–

Molly left that afternoon with two new numbers in her phone and a lunch date for next week.

“Can’t believe you are having lunch with my mother and sister without me.” Tom pouted on the way back.

“Once they heard I wasn’t working and didn’t know anyone, they insisted. Was I supposed to say no?” 

“You could have scheduled it when I could come.” 

“But you are so busy. And talented.” She poked his side. 

“I’m driving here, darling.”

“Sorry, but just one question…” They pulled up to a red light.”

“What?”

“Are you ticklish?” she attacked his side and Tom squirmed and giggled.

“You will be the death of me.” He panted as Molly stopped when the light was green.

“Note to self. Tom is very ticklish.” 

“No, no notes to self. That is something you can promptly forget.”

Molly batted her eyelashes. “But real husbands and wives would know these things about each other. We have to pull this off for an entire year, right?”

“Fine, but expect revenge.” Tom wagged a finger at Molly. 

“I’ll sleep with one eye open.” 

-

Over the next several weeks, Tom and Molly fell in a routine. The marriage certificate came in the mail and they applied for a family visa for Molly to stay there.

“I didn’t think you would want to become a citizen.”

Molly smirked. “No, not right now.”

A new debit card came in for Molly. 

“With great power…” Tom handed it over.

“Yeah, yeah, Loki.” she tucked into her wallet. “I am burdened with glorious purpose. To keep you well fed.” 

Molly had a standing date with Emma every two weeks, much to Tom’s consternation. They continued running together in the mornings. Tom, more often than not, ended it with a kiss. 

“This is becoming quite the nasty habit, Mr. Hiddleston.” she commented one morning.

“Then stop me, Mrs. Hiddleston.” He pecked her lips again. 

Molly blushed. “You just love what they are saying about us in the papers.” She pushed Tom away and towards the door. 

“I will admit the good news is definitely a perk. Plus, you are such lovely company.” He went to hug her, but she pushed him away.

“You are all sweaty, Tom. Take a shower and I will make breakfast.”

“French toast?” he asked hopefully.

“You ate the last of the bread yesterday.” 

“Pancakes?”

“I think I can swing pancakes, if…” She held up a finger. “You also eat a side of fruit.”

“Deal.” Tom headed towards his room wearing a huge grin. 

Molly shook her head as she grabbed a mixing bowl out. “Lunatic.”

-

One morning, Molly wasn’t awake when Tom got up to run. She almost always beat Tom up, sipping a cup of tea in the living room, reading a magazine or one of the books from his shelf. There was a small stack building on a side table of the ones she finished reading. But that morning, no half-drunk cup of tea perched precariously on the coffee table. No crossword puzzle half done in pen. 

Tom peaked into Molly’s bedroom. The covers, in colors of navy and grey, just like his, pulled up tight around her. There were a few prints of classic travel posters on the wall. 

“Molly, darling.” He called out. Usually that was all it took to roust Molly from her sleep and get her going for the day. Today, nothing. Tom stepped into the room. He felt like an intruder in his own home. 

“It’s time for our run, love.” He said a bit louder this time. 

Molly rolled over, groaning and coughing. Tom’s brow furrowed. He didn’t like the sound of that cough. Tom sat down on the edge of the bed and rocked Molly gently by the shoulder.

“Are you feeling okay, darling?” He hoped it was just allergies or waking up in the morning. But then she woke up.

“Uggh, Tom?” Molly croaked out before rolling onto her back. She was pale. So much more pale than usual. She coughed again, covering her mouth. 

“It’s me, Molly. Are you feeling alright?” He repeated. “That’s some cough.”

“I’m fine, fine. It’s just,” She waved him off and pushed up to sitting, only to fall back onto the pillows. “oh, that’s not good.” 

Tom placed the back of his hand to her forehead and replaced it with his lips, checking her temperature. She was running hot. 

“You have a fever. I’m making you an appointment to see the doctor.” He stood, but Molly caught his wrist. Her palm clammy against Tom’s skin.

“No! It’s just a cold. Go on your run. I’ll be fine. I just need some sleep.” She insisted.

“Are you sure? It’s no trouble.” 

“Go. I’ll be fine.”

Tom leaned down and kissed her very warm forehead. “I’ll keep it short. Go back to sleep.”

Molly nodded and rolled over. Tom tucked the covers around her and headed out. He barely made it to the end of the street before he returned home. It confirmed his fears when he stepped back inside and heard Molly coughing. Tom grabbed the phone and searched for a number and called it.

“Yes, Urgent Care? Do you have any appointments today? Name? Molly Hiddleston. Thank you.”

-

Tom helped Molly get dressed, averting his eyes when appropriate. Her entire body burned under his fingertips, but Tom noticed her shivering. She stumbled to the car where she slept the entire ride over to urgent care. Tom did his best to fill out the paperwork.

“What do you put for family history?”

“Nothing. Unless there is a place for mental illness, then check that. That’s all I know about. Mom didn’t chat much.” Molly muttered, leaning heavily against Tom. “Meth does that…” Her brow furrowed and she coughed again. 

“Shh, darling.” Tom soothed her. “Only happy thoughts.”

Molly hummed and smiled. “Happy thoughts.” More coughing. 

It took twenty minutes before they called Molly back. They didn’t let Tom back with her. He alternated between sitting with a bouncing knee, pretending to read on his phone and pacing the waiting room, making the other people nervous. After forty-five minutes, before Molly returned with several papers in her hand. She coughed again.

“Upper respiratory infection,” cough. “Along with a sinus infection and a viral infection.”

Tom smiled. “Triple threat. Let’s get you home.”

Molly’s hand, holding the papers, flopped up. “I have prescriptions and they want to see me again in two weeks. To make sure I don’t get pneumonia.”

Tom’s eyes widened. “That’s a possibility?”

Molly nodded. “It’s all in here.”

Tom took all the papers, skimming them, including a script for antibiotics as well as a cough suppressant. It all sounded grim. “Let’s get you to bed and I will take care of getting these filled.”

Molly coughed and nodded. “Thank you.” 

She fell back asleep in the car. Tom carried into the house, not having the heart to wake her up again, and settled her into his bed, which was bigger, more comfortable and the bathroom was right there. Once she was settled and asleep, he headed off to the pharmacy. While waiting in line, Tom dialed Luke. 

“Luke, is there anything absolutely pressing in the schedule for the next three days?” he asked after Luke picked up. 

“Nothing I can’t reschedule, why?”

“Molly’s ill.” He bit his lips and sighed. “The doctors are afraid it might turn into pneumonia. And I…”

“Consider your schedule cleared until Monday. And tell her I hope she feels better soon.”

“Thanks, Luke. I’m worried about her.”

“That’s because you love her, Tom. You should worry about the people you care about. I mean, I worry about you all the time.” Luke chuckled.

Tom paused at Luke’s words but pushed it away. Of course he cared for Molly. That has the tendency to happen when you live with a person for nearly three months. Especially someone as congenial as Molly. Congenial wasn’t the word. Lovely. Molly was lovely. He laughed it off. “I worry about you too, Luke. I got to go.”

“Take care of her. Bye, Tom.” 

After picking you the medicine, Tom popped into the grocery store and picked up some soup, drinks, and Molly’s favorite cookies. When he got back, she was still asleep. And still coughing. He put away the groceries and then checked on her.

“Darling, I’m back with the medicine. Time to take it.” He helped her sit up, Molly groaning the entire time. She swallowed the pill with a sip of water, gagging.

“That’s awful!” she coughed. 

“Now the cough medicine.” Tom poured out the cough syrup and handed it over to Molly. She hesitated, sniffing it first. “Take the medicine and get a biscuit.” He held up a package of cookies.

“They’re cookies. I thought I ate the last of them.” she moaned, downing the cough syrup. Her face contorted. Tom smiled and handed her two cookies. “Good girl. Now rest. I’ll check on you in a few hours.”

“Don’t you have work?” Molly muttered as she laid back down. Tom pulled the covers over her, putting the cookies on the nightstand. “You had… interviews… or something…”

“My schedule is clear through the weekend. I am at your disposal.” Tom rubbed Molly’s back, and she purred. 

“You don’t need to do that.” She half-heartedly complained, dozing off.

“And leave you to fend for yourself? What kind of husband would I be? It was no trouble. Now sleep, darling.”

“Mmm… kay.” 

-

Tom busied himself with absolutely nothing. He flitted from reading a book to watching a TV show to peeking into the bedroom. At one point, when Molly was particularly quiet, he seriously contemplated putting a mirror under her nose to just make sure he was still breathing. He managed to get her to eat half a bowl of soup. 

“You need to eat, love.” he scolded.

Molly coughed and croaked. “Says the man who considers chocolate a food group.” 

“Look at that, some humour.” Tom smiled. “Eat please.”

“Yes, sir.” She slurped the soup off the spoon before falling back asleep. 

Tom, worried, did the unthinkable. He called his mum for advice.

“She’s coughing. A lot. And all she does is sleep.” Tom ran his hands through his hair. 

“Is she eating, love?” Diana asked. Tom could feel the smile across the phone.

“A bit, but not as much as usual. I brought her soup.”

“Soup is good. And she is taking her medicine?”

Tom nodded. “I set a timer.”

“Of course you did. And the fever?”

Tom blinked. “What about her fever?”

“Has it broken?”

“I don’t—”

“Tom!” Molly’s bedraggled voice called out.

“I gotta go. She needs me.” Tom hung up the phone and sprinted to the room. 

“Molly! What is it?” He noted she was shivering.

“I’m cold.” she chattered. Tom grabbed the blanket at the foot of his bed. 

“Is that better?” He tucked it under Molly’s chin. Tom touched her forehead. Hot.

“Much.” 

“I’ll let you rest.” He patted her shoulder and stood. Molly reached out for him.

“Stay.” She coughed. “At least until I fall asleep. Please lie down. Just five minutes.”

Tom’s heart broke in that moment for Molly. That confident woman he grew so fond of seemed so small in that moment.

“Of course, I’ll stay. Anything for you.” Tom crawled on top of the covers next to Molly. He laced his fingers in hers. He heard her exhaled, and he exhaled too. 

“Sleep well, darling.” But Molly had already fallen asleep. Tom soon followed.

-

Molly woke the next morning in sweat soaked pajamas and on top of drenched sheets. She still coughed, but her fever was gone. As she blinked her eyes open, Molly realized she wasn’t in her bed, but Tom’s. And Tom was there too. Asleep next to her, fully dressed, holding her hand. She had vague memories of Tom bringing her soup and her asking him to stay. And some very not safe for work dreams. 

“Fever dreams.” she muttered. “Tom…” Molly rocked his shoulder.

“Huh?” Tom sat up. “I guess I was more tired than I thought.”

“It’s hard to be a nurse. I think your sheets may need washing.” she smiled.

Tom pressed his lips to her forehead. “No fever.” His spirits lifted. 

“It must have broken last night.”

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“Yes.” 

Tom noticed their hands still laced together. He let go and stood up. He made a poor attempt at smoothing out his sleep wrinkled clothes. “Up to move to the couch? And maybe some movies?”

“I would like that.” She slowly sat up and got out of bed. “But first a shower.”

Tom frowned. “First medicine, then shower.”

“Nurse Ratched.” Tom didn’t smile or budge. Molly sighed. “Fine, medicine, the shower.”

Tom grabbed the bottles and dispensed the medicine, which she took still gagging. “And a biscuit.” He handed her a cookie. 

“Cookie.” She popped it into her mouth and headed off to her room and Tom went to his own bathroom. 

-

Once they were both showered and dressed, Tom popped his sheets into the laundry and made a makeshift bed on the couch for Molly.

“You pick the movie.” she offered. “That way if I fall asleep, you won’t be bored.” 

Tom picked The Jungle Book. “One of my favorites as a child. I still watch it when I feel under the weather.”

“I don’t think I have seen it.”

Tom’s mouth fell open. “That is a travesty.”

Molly shrugged her shoulders. “You know, group homes, foster care…”

Tom stopped. “Well, we are going to watch this right now and you can listen to the vocal genius that is George Sanders as Shere Khan.”

“More of a vocal genius than you?” Molly raised an eyebrow while she settled onto the couch. 

Tom blushed. “A man-cub, how delightful.” He purred deep in his chest, sending shivers through Molly.

By the end of the movie, Molly’s head was in Tom’s lap and his hand in hers. They watched Disney movies for the rest of day, alternating picking the title. Tom made sure she took her meds on time and ate more than just cookies.

“I will eat a meal if you do.” Molly chided.

They both ate soup and Tom also ate a sandwich. It was late when they finished up Robin Hood. Molly stretched and sat up.

“I should go to bed.”

“I can put the sheets back on the bed.” Tom moved, but she stopped him, squeezing his hand.

“My bed. But I will keep the door open so you can spy on me.” She smirked. “I can’t take your bed again.”

“It’s fine if you did. I don’t mind sharing.”

“I know but…” She glanced away. “We should keep our own space. To keep things from getting complicated.”

Tom nodded. “Right. No complications here.” he lied to her and to himself.

Molly hugged Tom tight. “Thank you for everything, Tom.”

“My pleasure.”

She coughed a bit as she headed off to her room. Tom turned off the TV and cleaned the dishes before going to bed himself. He spent most of the night tossing and turning.

[broadstbroskis]

thanksgiving | jeff skinner

a/n: it’s here!!! this is like 4k that i threw together in like a week after i took it as a personal challenge from @blueskrugs after i asked why we don’t write more thanksgiving fics. a huge shoutout to her and @danglesnipecelly, for inspiration and cheering me on for this, as well as literally anyone else who’s cheered me on to finish thing, you’re all the real mvps and i love you all 💚

-----

Jeff shrugs, and from across the table filled with pizza, beer, and a bunch of other things that are most definitely not on his approved list of foods, you stare at him.

“I dunno. I don’t really have plans, I guess? Probably just sit at home, relax a little?” He says. Your jaw drops. He has...he has what now? “You're going to your parent’s right?” You nod slowly, still stuck on the fact that he’s going to sit at home and do nothing on Thanksgiving, the best of all holidays. Not spend the day with some teammates, not make a quick trip to his family, nothing. “That’ll be fun!” Jeff grins, dimples popping. “What are you-”

“You’re doing nothing?” You get out finally, the words coming back to you.

Jeff’s smile falters, but only slightly, and he nods. “Yeah? I mean, there’s no practice, no games. I’ll just…” He trails off for a second and then shrugs. “Rest.”

“You’re not going to go, like, visit your parents? They’re right across the border!”

“It’s a Thursday.” Jeff says patiently and you abruptly remember that his Canadian-ness is the whole point of this conversation.

“Thanksgiving is the best holiday! You can’t sit at home alone on it; I forbid it!” Jeff’s smile grows again as he laughs and you try and fight your own grin as you shove at his shoulders, to no avail. “Come home with me!”

“What?” He laughs again, but this time, it’s more like disbelief.

But the idea is already growing in your mind. “Come home with me! You know my parents love you, they won’t mind at all!”

“I can’t just invite myself to your Thanksgiving!” Jeff protests.

You wave him off. “You’re not, I’m inviting you! Come on, we’d love to have you!” He still looks hesitant, so you add, “Our Thanksgiving is huge anyway; one extra mouth to feed isn’t going to put anyone out, Jeff.”

“Alright.” He caves, and you grin, pulling your phone close to you to text your mom and let her know. “But ask your mom, okay? Like, really ask her, don’t just, like, tell her I’m coming.”

“Too late!” You say cheerfully, showing him the text you’d sent in your family group chat, telling them you were bringing Jeff with you next week. Your mom’s already responded with a string of happy face emojis and your younger sister with a How I Met Your Mother gif about Canadian Thanksgiving. “Be prepared for a lot of Canada jokes!”

“Is that supposed to be different than any other time I see your family?’ Jeff deadpans, but you’re pretty sure he looks like, at least 50% more relaxed, so you count this as a win and ignore him completely, already mentally planning for the best holiday of the year.

-----

The drive back home to your parents takes about an hour longer than you’d like, stuck in the same godawful traffic as everyone else trying to leave Buffalo on Wednesday so that they can get back home in time to go out that night. 

When Jeff finally pulls his car up in front of your childhood home, you can already see that it’s bustling with activity, getting ready for tomorrow. Most of your siblings have already arrived- only your older brother, with his wife and daughters will come in tomorrow, with the rest of your family- but your younger brother and sister have already come home, a fact that’s even more evident when you and Jeff walk in the front door and immediately trip over three pairs of sneakers.

“Liam!” You cry, grabbing onto Jeff so you don’t fall. “Motherfucker, move your shoes!”

Your brother pops his head out of the living room, AirPods in his ears. “I’m on a call!” And just as you're marveling at the fact that your brother is a real person with a real job taking real work calls, said real person with a real job spots Jeff and lights up. “Jeff! Bro! What’s up, man?”

“I thought you were on a call.” You snap at him.

“I’m on mute.” Liam slaps his palm against Jeff’s pulling him in for a ridiculous handshake-bro hug combo, before he finally comes over and lifts you off the floor. “Yo!”

“Yo!” You repeat, honestly unable to believe you’re related to this kid. If the two of you didn’t look exactly alike, you’d probably think he was adopted. “You still coming out tonight?”

“Hell yeah, this is my last call. I’m ready to go.”

You snicker, looking down at his sweatpants and dress shirt combo- he must have taken a video call at some point today. “Yeah, okay, bud.”

He ruffles your hair, in that annoying way he’s been able to do ever since he grew taller than you. “Don’t you worry, I will be.”

You laugh, ducking under his arm, to let him get back to it. You’ve got no doubts about that. Liam’s always ready to party. “Finish your call so we can start pregaming.”

He grins, like you knew he would. “Now we’re talking.” And then he ducks back into your dad’s office.

Jeff is laughing when you look back at him and you give him a look. “What?”

“Nothing, just forgot how the two of you were when you got going.”

“Yup, and you’re stuck with us for next two days!” You grin.

Jeff rolls his eyes at you, but he’s still smiling when he follows you to the kitchen, in search of your mom. She’s at the counter, rolling dough for biscuits, her only other contribution to the annual Thanksgiving dinner that she hosts, besides the turkey; a holiday that she’d taken over hosting once it had become too much for your grandmother to handle, but only on the caveat that everyone began contributing food toward the meal. It’s been a potluck style holiday ever since.

She’s ultra-focused, the volume on her favorite playlist high (this wild mix of 80’s pop and today’s hits that’s actually kind of a banger), so you sneak up behind her and wrap your arms around her. “Hi!”

“Jesus!” Your mom jumps, elbowing you in the process, but you’re laughing too hard to care. “Don’t do that!”

“Just excited to see you!” You beam at her, squeezing her once more, before pulling away. “Where do you want the pie?” Jeff lifts the pie you’d made yesterday, showing your mom.

Your mom purses her lips, studying the kitchen around her. “Leave it on the counter for now; I’ll have your dad clear some space in the garage.” She gestures with her elbow. “Hi Jeff!” 

“Hi!” Jeff pulls out his best smile, a real one, dimples super popped. “Thank you for having me-”

Your mom cuts him off before he can finish, like you knew she would. “Oh, we’re so happy you could make it! You’re welcome anytime, Jeff!” She assures him.

“Is the guest room ready?” You ask. “We’ll throw our stuff upstairs before Dad sees it at the bottom of the steps and has a fit.”

Your mom fights back a laugh at that- a statement that everyone in your family knows all too well-but then looks almost apologetic as she finishes, “It is, but we gave it to Katie.”

“Oh, Katie’s here too?” Your sister’s roommate at college was, at this point, basically another sister to you. She hardly went home for breaks within the semesters, usually came up for at least a month during the summer, and more often than not came home with Abby when she was back for anything. The “guest room” really was more like Katie’s room at this point. 

“Where else would she be?” Abby appears, right on cue, with Katie right behind her, practically matching in leggings and oversized sorority shirts. “It’s Thanksgiving; she’s ready to rage tonight.”

You actually can’t wait for the babies to be hungover tomorrow-both were 21 for their first Thanksgiving Eve and you know they’re going to be in a super rough spot tomorrow-but you keep that thought to yourself. 

“It didn’t even occur to me!” Your mom says apologetically. “I just gave Katie her usual room.”

“No, it’s cool. Jeff and I can share. He doesn’t mind, right?” But you barely even wait for his shrug and nod in agreement. It’s not like you haven’t before, when you’re either too lazy or too drunk to go home. You’re both adults, it’s no big. “I’ve shared a bed with you before; I’ll spare Katie the bruised shins.” You tease your sister.

Katie cracks up as Abby sputters out how rude you are. “It’s a hazard!” Katie agrees, dodging the swat your sister sends towards her. It sets the two of them off, which you take as your cue to grab Jeff’s hand and drag him (and your stuff) up to your room.

Of course, usually when you’re sharing a bed with Jeff, it’s a king sized bed, or at least a queen- definitely not the double that your parents just shoved in your old room to replace the queen bed that had been in there until you moved out and took your furniture with you. You hadn’t realized how small it was though, not until today, until the idea of actually having to share it with someone, with Jeff, who might not be a giant, but isn’t tiny.  “Sorry.” You apologize, almost unsure of what you’re saying.

Jeff shrugs. “Well, at least you don’t kick.” He smiles, as then it’s like everything’s back to normal, that awkward feeling that was growing over you gone as quickly as it came. 

“She’s a bruiser, don’t let her tell you otherwise.” You throw your bag down, rifling through it for the sweater you were planning to wear tomorrow, to hang it up so it isn’t too wrinkled.

Jeff laughs. “I’ll take your word for it.” He’s holding up his shirt, a button down and a tie. “Where can I hang this?”

“You can’t wear that!”

He frowns, likely at the vehemence you’d just spoken that with. “Uhh, why not?”

“You’ll get roasted.” Seriously, you’d told him it wasn’t a dressy affair. God, what part of not dressy does he think requires a tie? “Don’t you have, like, a sweater?”

“I mean, yeah, but-”

“Sweater and jeans, that’s fine.”

Jeff gives you a look. “That doesn’t seem-”

“Sweater. And jeans.” You repeat. He’ll thank you tomorrow, when your uncle doesn’t ask him when tea is. When your cousin doesn’t talk to him only in a fake British accent for the entire night. 

Jeff hands over a sweater, a soft thing you’ve seen him wear on many occasions, and you smile your thanks at him, hanging it up next to yours. “Meet your standards?” He asks; you think he’s aiming for teasing but he kind of misses the mark, sounding a little more nervous than joking.

“Perfect.” He smiles back at you and you laugh. “Come on, you dork. Let’s go see what’s for dinner tonight.”

-----

“Don’t wake me up when you come in tonight!” Your dad calls, as he drops the five of you off at Mel’s, the bar for Thanksgiving Eve. Your friends are already at the bar, you’re anticipating a high school reunion for sure, and you’ve warned Jeff of this, even though he assured you that he could handle it, and he was just excited for a nice, chill night.

You’d actually laughed out loud at that. Oh Jeffrey. 

“Pshh.” Liam waves your dad off. “I haven’t done that since I was like 16 and still having to sneak out.”

Your dad gives him a look. “I was talking to your sister.” He looks over at Abby, who ignores him completely, in favor of taking a SnapChat with Katie, and he sighs resolutely. You all absolutely know she isn’t listening to a word he says. “Have fun, be safe. Uber home.”

Liam salutes him. “Will do.”

Inside the bar, the night starts exactly as you and Liam have started your last few Thanksgiving Eve’s-with a round of shots at the bar as you’re ordering drinks, before splitting off to find your respective friends to start the evening.

Jeff fits in with your friends fantastically, laughing and joking around with them like he’s known them forever, even though you’re sure the only one he’s met is your oldest friend, Ashley. But he greets Ashley and her husband, Brian, like old friends, and quickly joins conversations with all your other friends, and soon hours have passed before your brother is sliding up behind you. “Heads up.” Liam mutters as he passes. “Douche at 3 o’clock.”

You tense as it takes everything in you not to turn and look over. “Hey.” Jeff nudges you, concern clear in his eyes as he looks at you, and you’re not sure what he pulled himself away from, but you must look pretty bad. “You okay?”

You nod, kinda spacily, but leaning in closer to him, and he takes the cue to curl in toward you- you’re not really interested in shouting to the entire bar and you’re really not interested in drawing attention to yourself. “Yeah, just- my ex is over there.”

Jeff purses his lips for a minute and then schools his face back to neutral. “I take it things didn’t end well.”

“No.” You say, thinking of the demise of your relationship with Dylan. “It did not.”

You hadn’t even realized that Jeff grabbed your hand until he’s squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You shake your head. “It was...definitely for the best.” It might have taken you a while to see that, but you can now, even if the rare instances you still see Dylan sometimes rattles you. “I thought I was going to marry him, at one point, but I’m so much happier here now.”

Jeff smiles. “Good.”

You squeeze his hand once more, a thanks for his comfort and care, before both of you rejoin the conversation, and you forget about Dylan entirely for the next hour, until you physically run into him coming back from the bar with another round of drinks for you and Jeff.

“Hey!” Dylan beams at you, goes right in for a cheek kiss, like you’re still that familiar, and once again you stiffen up.

“Hi.” You return politely, ready to sidestep around him and return to Jeff and your friends.

“No, wait.” Dylan steps with you, blocking your path. “I haven’t seen you in forever. Let’s catch up a minute, what’s new?”

“No offense, Dylan, but I’m not really looking to catch up with you.” You say flatly.

He opens his mouth to respond, but before he can another voice cuts in. “Everything okay here?” Jeff asks politely, stepping very purposefully next to you, and Dylan’s eyes immediately fly over to him.

“Mhmm,” You nod. “Was just on my way back to you.”

“Good.” Jeff says, in a tone far more harsh than you usually hear him take. “Let’s get back.” He positions himself again, clearing a space for you to easily slip past Dylan, and then steps closely behind you, catching up quickly.

“Thanks.” You lean against him, gently, not looking to spill either of your drinks, but Jeff solves that problem by taking his.

“Any time.” Jeff says softly and you don’t have much else to say on the matter so you just nudge him once more in thanks and walk back toward your friends with him at your side.

-----

When you wake up the next morning, you’re warm and comfortable and only a little hungover, which you count as a huge success. There’s not too much noise going on downstairs yet, which means you definitely have some more time to sleep, so you curl back into your pillow, humming contently when it pulls you in closer.

And then your eyes pop open abruptly, because pillows don’t do that.

Except they do when they look like Jeff Skinner, who looks just as soft and warm and comfortable as you feel right now, still sleeping judging by the evenness of his breath. 

It’s just...it’s a really nice way to wake up, with Jeff’s kind-of smiling face, looking super soft and cozy as he breathes just on the wrong side of too loud, but not so loudly that it drives you nuts. 

It’s a little too early to unpack that, and your hangover might not be that bad but it’s definitely bad enough that you’re not ready to think on that, so you close your eyes and let yourself curl into Jeff and fall back asleep.

-----

When you do finally get out of bed, Thanksgiving morning is its usual chaos, running around with last minute errands, cleaning, and helping your mom in the kitchen. The last to shower for the day, by the time you arrive downstairs, the Lions vs. Bears game is well underway, your notoriously early grandparents have already arrived, and your grandmother is already asking your mom where that one turkey decoration she bought her one year is.

You bypass the kitchen entirely and move toward the living room, where you find your dad, grandfather, Jeff, and siblings all gathered, just as you’d expected. You slide down on the floor next to Jeff, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before more of your family arrives and you’re offering your set up anyway, and wait for the next round of chaos to begin.

It doesn’t take long. Your aunts, uncles, and cousins start pouring in and then it’s just introduction after introduction, as you wrap up showing off Jeff to one group just as the next arrives. You are absolutely confident he has no idea who anyone is, but it’s fine, because he’s still laughing and joking around with all your uncles and cousins that have joined you in watching football. 

The kitchen is its own brand of chaos, when you make a quick stop in on your back from a beer run, but chaos has never stopped your aunt before and it certainly isn’t today. “Oh my god!” She exclaims, after you’ve pressed a smacking kiss to the top of your grandmom’s head. “That boy!”

“What boy?” You ask, like an idiot, which is immediately clear from the looks you get from everyone in the kitchen, even your usually oblivious uncle, who’s doing...something...with the ham they’d brought. “Who, Jeff?”

“Yes.” Another aunt stresses. “He’s cute!”

You shrug. “Yeah, I mean-”

But your grandmom cuts you off this time. “And so friendly! Just the nicest boy! Oh, you couldn’t have found anyone better!” She exclaims.

“Well, I haven’t.” You announce, watching all of their faces fall. “So sorry to burst that bubble.”

“Why?” One of your older cousins frowns. “Girl. Get on that. You are not going to do better than that boy in there.”

“I truly don’t know if that was meant to be a dig at me or you all think that highly of Jeff already, but regardless. We are just friends.” Now everyone in the kitchen is giving you a look. You gather the beers and retreat, distributing them as you return to your spot on the floor near Jeff.

He’s giving you a look as you pass him his, but whatever’s on your face must not be too bad, because he just thanks you as you pass him the bottle, and you nod in return as you try to find the same comfortable spot as before, leaning against his thigh.

-----

Your dad catches you a bit later, as he’s coming back with beers this time and you’re coming out of the bathroom, and he nudges you carefully as you take a few bottles from his hand. “So Jeff?”

You groan. The tone of that statement was far too loaded. “Jesus, you too?”

Your dad laughs. “Who else?”

“Everyone.”

“Well maybe that should be your hint.” Your dad says teasingly, but also not? There’s definitely some seriousness to this. “That Jeff’s pretty perfect for you.”

You stare at him. “You’ve met Jeff, like, a hundred times. Why’s this coming out now?”

“I always thought you were my smart kid and that you’d figure it out yourself.” He muses. “Now I realize you’re only book-smart and you’d never figure this out on your own.” And then he leaves you there in the hallway, with your jaw dropped and too many thoughts, as he continues on, laughing at you.

-----

When the call to come serve yourselves echoes into the room, the usual mad scramble follows immediately. It’s only as you’re getting into line behind your brother that you realize that Jeff’s not with you anymore, and you abandon the long line waiting for food, in favor of seeking out Jeff.

You find Jeff upstairs, in your room, just kind of lounging on your bed, and you lean against the doorway. “Hey! Food’s ready.”

“Yeah.” Jeff nods, the smile he sends you back in return far too tight and forced to be genuine. “Be right down.”

But he doesn’t move, so you step in and climb into your bed next to him. “What’s wrong?”

Jeff laughs; it’s kind of hollow and doesn’t sound anything like his usual loud laugh or his giggles that you love. “What- nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”

“Jeff.” You say softly. “Come on.”

He sighs. “Why did you bring me here?”

That...was not at all what you expected. “What?”

“Why did you bring me here?” He repeats. “Why did you bring me home, to your family? I thought, maybe, finally…” He trails off for a minute. “Except, there’s like ten other randos here too!” He laughs again, that hollow thing that you’re already hating. “Everybody in this family just brings people home, and that’s awesome, okay? Please don’t ever change that about yourself. I just-I thought we had something special, is all.” He says, sounding almost sad? Melancholy? 

“You are special.” You hate this. Jeff should never be sad; he should always be happy and smiling and joking. This is worse than seeing him after losses, worse than seeing him at low points in the season, that one game when he realizes that shit’s done and they’re just playing to keep playing now, that playoffs won’t be coming this year, again. “Jeff, you’re-”

“I’m in love with you.” Jeff says and it’s so straight-up, matter-of-fact, like it’s never not been a fact for him. “And I’m sorry I’ve fucked things up here for tonight and made this so awkward. I just- being here with you and your family just made me want you that much more.”

There’s so so so much you want to say to Jeff, but it’s like time is frozen. You can’t speak, can’t move, can’t do anything except look at him in awe, until he starts to move off your bed, when you reach for him, finally, resting your hand on his thigh, relieved when he looks back at you. “My dad thinks I’m an idiot.” You blurt out and Jeff just gives you a look. “I’m sorry; that wasn’t what I wanted to say.” You take a deep breath, trying to gather the jumble of thoughts in your head. “Or at least, not the only thing. He thinks I’m an idiot because he thinks you’re perfect for me and I didn’t see it. My whole family thinks you’re perfect- cute and friendly and nice- and god, Jeff, you are! You’re all those things!” He’s still watching you, with like, barely the smallest hint of a smile on his face. “I just-didn’t realize you were perfect for me until we came here.”

Now he’s full on beaming, dimples showing, and you don’t even realize that you’re returning the grin until his hand comes up to your face, thumbing at the corner of your lip. “I’m sorry I’m a dumbass.” You finish lamely, too busy smiling at Jeff. “Please kiss me so we can make sure we get biscuits.”

Jeff hums. “I don’t know if I can kiss you now and just...stop.”

“Well I’m not going down to eat until you do.” You say stubbornly. “And you’ve been hyping up those biscuits since breakfast.”

“Fair enough.” Jeff laughs and then you’re smiling into the best first kiss you’ve ever had, tangling your hands into his hair and wondering if you may actually end up missing the meal this year.

[leftonraed]

The Night We Met - Episode 5

pairing : Taehyung x OC   genre : bodyguard!au, singleparent!au, idol!au   word count :  2.9k summary — You and Taehyung get closer which isn’t to his manager’s liking. Prologue | ep.1 | ep.2 | ep.3 | ep.4 | ep.5 | ep.6 | ep.7 

You walk along the corridor, looking after Taehyung and Hina. You find them in the room assigned to her the duration of the small vacation.

You stop at the doorstep, bringing your arms to your chest as you cross them. They’re both seated around a small coffee table along three of her soft toys gathered to have tea.

“He’e, biscuits. Hey!” Hina chirps handing a plate with plastic cookies to him.

“Sorry, I was busy listening to miss Maggie’s hot tea.”

He offers a happy smile and effortlessly takes all of them in a handful which has her staring at him in a judgemental way. “Not all, siwy!”

You can’t help the smile etching on your face.

“Tuffy wants some too. He’re you go.” She continues putting one biscuits in front of her pale blue elephant.

“My bad Tuffy,” Taehyung is prompt to apologize looking at the soft toy while his niece proceeds to fill their cups for the second time. “I didn’t eat well earlier.”

She seats down and stretches her hand to hand him another cookie.

He shakes his hand, “don’t worry about me. You should eat yours as well Princess Hina.”

“No, mine’s he’e. It’s Snowball’s.”

“Are you sure he won’t mind?” He inquires, looking embarrassed at the tilted turtle next to her, seconds away from falling down his chair.

“Yes,” she assures, sipping from her cup. “He told me.”

He repositions the toy. “That’s very kind of you Snowball. I’ll make sure to remember it next time we have tea together.”

You surely took him for the type to play along children’s games but never would’ve imagined him doing his bit this seriously. When Hina complained about not having her doll’s tea set brought along and he promised to get her a new one, you figured he didn’t do it because he could afford it, getting her one meant opportunities to share even more moments together because he cherished her that much.

The sound of plastic dishes toppling snaps you out of your head. Hina has tripped over dress in her attempt to stand up, bringing half of the table content with her in her fall.

“Do you need help Princess?” Taehyung inquires, stifling a laugh, still clinging to his cup and cookie. He cocks his head to the side when he hears her let out a tiny whimper. “Hina?”

Worryness frowns his face a little and he nimbly gets her back on her feet, holding her to him massaging her leg she complains about.

You feel warmth spreading in your chest the longer you stare them, at him around her. They belong together.

You’re not aware of it but you must have made a sound because they’re both looking at you. It’s your face that is now heating.

You straighten your back. “I’m sorry to interrupt. I’ve come to inform you the car is ready my lady.”

You make eye contact with Taehyung and feel your body giving up on you and you’re positive he’s noticing your blush. He smiles.

**********************************************

“You should buy it if you like it.” You hear Taehyung say to you a few feet away from where you.

“Huh?” You jerk your body in surprise, not expecting him to see you browsing clothes. You watch him walk closer and take the dress you’re holding from you to give it a closer look.

“So this is how you’d dress...” He observes to himself.

You find yourself staring longer than needed at his mouth when he slowly drags his bottom lip between his teeth and you feel yourself rising in temperature. “I- I- I don’t-, I’m not-”

He looks down at you, smiling softly at your sudden stuttering. Why is she suddenly acting cute, he thinks. “Take it. Let me buy it as a gift.”

You breath, getting a grip on yourself and refusing to meet his eyes. “No.”

“It’s okay.”

“This is... not appropriate…” You trail in a small voice.

“Pff, what are you mumbling? Come on, I really want to. You’d look pretty in it.”

You gaze up at the compliment but he doesn’t seem embarrassed. Taehyung can’t help to find amusing the quick change in roles. He knows you’d look more than pretty but you seem flustered enough.

“I really don’t want it.”

“You’re lying…” He smiles. “I’ll take it off your pay if that’s what you want.”

“Hmm,” you pout, eyes drawn back to the dress as he takes it off the rod. “I’ll make sure you do.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he sings walking away.

“Where is Hina anyway? I thought you were looking after her.” You scold, following and face still flaming.

***************************************

Taehyung has just finished cleaning up Hina’s mess from her eating dinner and turned on the stove to cook the one he’s made for you two when his phone is heard ringing. He takes it to identify the caller.

“I’ll shower her.” You quickly say before he gets to say anything, allowing him to get some respite.

“You sure?” He looks back and sees you already walking away with Hina in your arms smiling and waving at him.

He smiles to himself and sits down on the couch, only now realizing how much he’s needing it. He lets out a sigh and answers the call.

“Hey, mom.” —

“No, not this one,” Hina slurs, knuckling one eye as you pick out several pajamas.

You fold back the cloth after her rejection. “What about this one?”

You look down at her. She’s barely holding herself up as she squeezes her eyes and eventually nods her head. You chuckle to yourself and quickly dress her up before she catches a cold.

Hina lifts her arms out of habit and you straighten yourself up, gently swaying her as you softly hum your favorite lullaby to her.

You walk in the living-room at the same time Taehyung’s getting the fuming dish out. Plates, glasses and cutlery are already ready so you directly go take a seat in front of his while he places the meal between you.

You look up at him and immediately grasp something bothering him. You take in a big breath.

“This looks actually really good. I kinda expected not to eat anything tonight.” You trail in a sarcastic tone.

You manage to pull a half-hearted lopsided smile.

“Did everything go well with Hina?”

You hum an approval taking a first bite of the home-cooked meal. “Think I broke my record. Three minutes and I could've sworn hearing snore.” You’re sure it’s not entirely coming from your empty stomach and can’t help the short pleasant moan you let out as you start chewing.

You catch Taehyung giving you a relieved and thankful look.

“Not eating?”

He nods and moves his hand to hold his fork but you feel he may have lost his appetite.

You try not to stare too much and every time he’s not looking back. You’ve never seen him looking this down as far as you can recollect. He’s had his collected and isolated moments but you know this right now is not one of them. He’s changed mood so abruptly.

You’re so lost in your thoughts, his sudden speaking has you almost jumping in your seat. “I might actually believe you. This isn’t too bad.”

Taehyung finds it curious the way you're gazing back silently. He smiles shyly and looks back down at his plate. He hates it how he’s not able to enjoy this quiet and intimate moment with you.

You put down your fork to reach for your glass of water. “You’re not giving yourself enough credit.”

He lets out a breathy chuckle. “You seem to be the only one thinking that.”

“Not true.” You peak his interest. “I know a little snoring cutiekins that can vouch for it.”

His fork makes a sudden noise when it slips his grasp. He frowns a little.

“What happened Tae? Who called you?”

“My parents.” He pauses. “They’re still thinking I’m not fit to raise her.”

“Why?” You’re frowning too. “They didn’t seem convinced enough last time we visited. Your father was really supportive. I don’t understand.”

“I think the thing they’re reassessing is… not me but my job.”

You sit up and look away, “so I’m the one who didn’t convince them?”

He gazes up at you with confused eyes. “No, I don’t think you’re the problem. No, it’s- It’s just… I mean, you’re planning to look after us your whole life. I mean work for me.”

“Of course not.” You trail softly looking back. “But you’re going to better yourself. You’ve barely got acquainted with each other.”

“They say Hina starting preschool this year is bad timing.”

“I… I don’t mean to be rude but how would they know?”

“Well, they’ve already had an idea about how hectic my schedule can get.”

You cross your arms on your chest. “But you’re planning to adapt it, right?”

“Of course, I just... “

“Need to adopt her officially and make it public.” You continue for him. “How do you feel about you looking after her?”

“I feel good about it. I mean it feels right and I don’t want it another way.”

“So get yourself heard.” Taehyung looks down in surprise at your hand grabbing his. “You’re not a child taking care of one. You know what you want. Stop letting others think and speak for you. If you don’t fight for Hina you’ll come to regret it.”

You go silent and become aware of your gesture when he doesn’t say anything back. You slowly remove your hand and freeze when he suddenly grabs it hurriedly. You only then notice the tears in his thankful eyes.

*******************************************

It’s been a couple of months since Hina started her first preschool year and you and Taehyung have fondly been watching her blooming weeks after weeks in her new environment. There hasn’t been a day, she hasn’t had plenty of anecdotes to tell.

As much as you’re taking pleasure in witnessing her go through her learning, you feel as much contentment from seeing Taehyung discover that new side of rearing.

“Hello!” Hina bursts her way inside the penthouse as usual, excited to find Taehyung after a long day spent apart.

“Hey sugarplum,” he grins just as delighted.

You close the door behind you bringing Hina’s tiny backpack along with the couple of errands you ran for him. You don’t have to look at Taehyung to notice just how exhausted he must be. It’s been a week since his latest comeback and getting back to a busy schedule, which still has had some changes to it, isn’t as easy as he’d expected it.

You haven’t talked about the issue his parents raised ever since that night and didn’t want to seem intrusive but you just hoped he’d grin and bear it the time needed.

“_______ will also be there.”

You perk at the sound of your name looking at them from the kitchen where you’re storing things away.

You see Hina’s eyes brighten at the news you’re unaware of. “Weally?”

She joggs towards you and looks up with hopeful eyes as her tiny fists clutch your pants.

“Pwomise?”

“Promise what?” You frown confused as you look between Taehyung and her.

“Come see her end of year show,” he explains stretching an arm on the couch. “She’ll be singing songs.”

“Say yes.” She hops still clinging around your knees.

You feel your chest get overwhelmed with a familiar surge of warmth, binding you tightly from within and it makes your face all tingly. “If you invite, I’ll c-”

“Yes, yes, yes. I invite you.” She bounces happily.

You reach to pat her head, smiling at her shyly. “Yes, I’ll come.”

Taehyung grins effortlessly at the two of you and thinks that moments like this are worth all the effort in the world.

Hina joins him again and you hear them making sure she doesn’t reveal to you the song she’ll be performing and how she has to train seriously because he might assess her singing. You’re convinced he doesn’t need you or your words, he’ll be doing just fine.

********************************************

Taehyung involuntarily puts an end to your happy mood when he reveals he’s had you do the groceries because Hwiin is expected later tonight to share dinner. You don’t ask him but he tells you to stay in case you’d be thinking of leaving. The thought makes you smile but it doesn’t last when you think about the time you’ll have to go through in her company.

The doorbell rings unpleasantly and you let Taehyung welcome her while you remain in the kitchen finishing preparing everything you’ll be needing.

You shortly greet her when she comes in, waving at her with a knife in your hand and noticing the surprise on her face she sees you.

“We’re just getting started with dinner so you can wait here with Hina,” Taehyung explains as he helps her with her coat and bag.

“Alright.” She speaks in a high-pitched tone as she gets closer to Hina sitting on the carpet and playing with her toys. “Hello Hina.”

The little girl replies quietly.

Hwiin still struggles to find the right words or gestures when it comes to her but she comforts herself as she can acknowledging the fact she’s not making her cry anymore.

She tries not to be too invasive and settles for switching between her phone and watching T.V.

She’s surprised by Taehyung’s sudden appearance when he brings Hina some grapes.

“You want some too?” He smiles politely.

“No I’m good, thank you.” If you looked at her, you'd find her racking her brain to quickly find a way to start a conversation with him but he’s back giving you instruction on the use of ingredients.

She resigns herself a moment until something worth saying eventually comes to her mind but when she looks his way, she finds him bent down, your arms framing his neck and your faces close, very close.

Are they- Right in front of me? She tenses.

She freezes at the sight and doesn’t immediately see that you’re actually tying the front part of his hair to keep from falling in his eyes.

She promptly looks away as if it physically hurt her and stared in space. She hears his laugh and it tugs at his heart. She can’t overlook the bonds you’ve forged, they exist and helped make his house home-like.

Her eyes are dragged yet again where you are and she watches quietly as you manoeuvre Hina on your hip to give her a peek at what you’re cooking. She feels in the way and it hurts.

You’re in charge of feeding Hina while Taehyung focuses on finding conversation topics, sparing you the small talk. Although the little has all your attention, you notice Hwiin strange silence.

She’d usually take the opportunity to be all over him, monopolizing him to herself claiming her behavior was justified by professional reasons.

“Let me take care of it,” he interjects when she stands up to help clear up the table.

“Thank you,” she smiles half-heartedly. “I have to make a quick phone call, I’ll be right back.”

She grabs her phone from the couch where she’s left it and looks back as she heads for the bathroom down the corridor. She sees Hina grabbing onto you to lead you to the ice cream she’s struggling to open on her own.

She finally opts for Hina’s bedroom and leaves the door barely ajar after checking one more time the coast is clear.

She thumbs a number and waits for an answer.

“Hello? Mrs Hiroshi? I’m Hwiin, do you remember me?” She asks in a hushed voice. “I’m doing good thank you. Listen, I don’t have plenty of time.”

She turns away from the door and walks away a little.

“I called to tell you I’ve been thinking about the suggestion we’ve come up with a couple of weeks ago. Yes, the social worker one.” She nods to herself. “I think it could work out.”

Hwiin looks over her shoulder when she thinks she’s heard a noise. “Let me take care of it. I’ll contact them myself. Yes, don’t worry. I’ll keep you in touch.”

She can see a shadow right on the other side of the door and hurries to finish her call. “I have to hang up. We’ll talk again later.”

She walks to the door warily, directing a frowning gaze where the shadow remains still and stretches her arm. She yanks the door open violently and sees nothing behind it.

She holds back a scream when Hina runs in at full speed.

“Hina, you scared me.” She laughs uneasily watching her plop on her bed.

She looks up at her, her big eyes hidden behind her long fringe. “What you doing in my woom?”

“Me? Nothing,” Hwiin dismisses with her hands on her knees. This doesn’t feel natural at all, she thinks. “I just wanted to see it. You have such a beautiful room.”

Hina stares up at the smile Hwiin gives her. She decides to walk out first, followed closely by. Her heart is still thumping hard and loudly in her ears as she joins you and Taehyung in the living-room where you’re sitting nearby each other.

She grins at him, sitting on his other side just as closely and makes sure to avoid your eyes.

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Feedback is much appreciated Reblog if you wish to read more

[thatonerandomfan4]

Madness Combat: Just Bros Being Dudes

AO3 Link:

(Hhh This Took A Long Ass While Lmao)

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Fandom: Madness Combat

Characters: Deimos, Sanford, Hank (Briefly), Jebus (Briefly), Tricky (Briefly)

Platonic Or Romantic?: Romantic Sanmos

Summary: Just A Normal Saturday In Nevada For The Boyfriends, Sanford And Deimos. They Also Share Their First Kiss With The Help Of Hank And Tricky Thanks To A Text Message. Also Deimos Makes A Lot Of Jokes, If You Know Them Then Congrats. :) If Not, That's Ok.

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The Sound Of The Alarm Clock Went Off At 8:00 AM, Causing Deimos To Wake Up From His Slumber. He Sat Up From The Sleeping Position He Was In And Yawned While Stretching Before Hitting The Snooze Button And Rubbing His Eyes. Looking Over To His Side, He Noticed Sanford Was Absent From His Side Of The Bed. It Was Cold, So He Had Been Probably Gone For A While Now. It Was Done Nicely Compared To The Smaller Man's Side Of The Bed, Which Was Very Messy.

Deimos Knew San Liked To Wake Up An Hour Or Two Earlier Than Him All The Time. He Did That Even If They Weren’t Being Bothered By The L33t / A.A.H.W (Agency Against Hank Wimbleton) Groups Anymore. Deimos Slipped On The Closest Pair Of Slippers He Had By The Bed And Headed Toward The Kitchen. There He Heard Pans Being Set Down On The Stove Or In The Sink To Be Washed Later And Bacon Sizzling In A Pan.

Sanford Was At The Stove Making Breakfast While Whistling One Of Their Favorite Songs. That Favorite Song Happened To Be Poker Face By Lady Gaga, Deimos Would Always Sing And Dance Happily To It While Sanford Watched And Laughed During Their Breaks In Between Missions. Deimos Instantly Smiled At The Sight Of His Boyfriend Being In A Good Mood On A Morning. Everyone Knew Sanford Wasn't Much Of A Morning Person, He Was Only Cheerful When He Knew He Was Going To Have A Good Day.

It Always Was Fun Going On Missions Together And Then Getting To Relax With Each Other Afterwards. They Loved To Chat And Goof Off With Each Other All The Time. The Smaller Man Quietly Shuffled Into The Kitchen Being Careful Not To Distract The Man Cooking And Sat Down In A Chair. Ford Smiled And Flipped The Pancakes In The Pan. San Turned Around To See His Beloved Boyfriend Sitting At The Table.

Sanford, Smug: “Enjoying The View, Dee?’

Deimos, Jumping In Surprise And Hiding His Face In Embarrassment: “U-Uh What? Yeah, I Like Roses. I Mean What-”

Sanford, Giggling A Bit: “What? Anyway, How Many Pancakes Do You Want?”

Deimos: “Ooo, Can I Have 4?”

Sanford Nods And Turns Around, Walking Back To The Stove To Continue Their Breakfast. Deimos Watched His Boyfriend With Love In His Eyes. Dee Loved Watching His Boyfriend Do Anything; He Even Has A Whole Photo Album Full Of...Just Sanford In Battle Poses, Laying Down, Sitting, Ect..

Sanford Knew About Deimos’s Pictures. He Didn’t Really Mind, It Was Just When They Got Posted Online And Girls Were Coming To The Posts and Simping For The Man In The Bandana. Cut Back To Deimos Looking At Sanford With Love In His Eyes, Dee’s Tablet Vibrated On The Table.

Deimos Quickly Picked It Up, And Saw It Was From Hank. His Panic Died Down A Bit, And He Just Stared At The Notification. Like Sanford, Hank Liked Getting Up Early So He Can Get Things Done. One Of Those Things Would Be Making Sure Tricky Wasn’t Eating All The Food In The Fridge. Tricky Normally Has To Be Fed At Least 8 Times A Day To Ease His Chaotic Nature For A Few Minutes At Most. Then Jebus Has To Look After Him For Safety Reasons.

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Hank: Deimos. Are You Up?

Hank: Deimos? It's 7:04 AM.

Hank: ?

Hank: Deimos??

Hank: Oh Yeah. I Forgot You Like To Sleep In

Hank: You're Probably Going To Wake Up At 8:30 AM, As Always.

Hank: Anyway, I Just Wanted To Say Tricky Misses You Guys. He Keeps Talking About You And He’s Wondering If You 2 Can Come Play With Him Later Today Or Tomorrow.

Hank: He's Happy You Two Are A Couple Now. He Bought A Gift For You Too.

Hank: Well….He Stole It, Then I Had To Pay For The Damage….AND The Gift

Hank: Also, Quick Question….Have You 2 Even Kissed Yet?

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There Was Silence For A Good 3 Seconds Until Deimos Screamed, Startling Sanford. The Tablet Fell On The Table Before Ford Could Even Reach His Boyfriend. The Man In The Bandana Hugged His Boyfriend To Calm Him. Ford Thought It Was Some Fangirl Who Messaged Him And Sent Something Gross As That Happened Very Often. He Took The Tablet To See For Himself, And Snorted When He Saw The Message. He Looked At Deimos Desperately Trying Not To Laugh At What He Saw.

Sanford: “You-” *He Quietly Giggles, Trying Not To Embarrass Deimos On Purpose* “You’re Screaming Because We Haven’t Kissed Yet?”

Deimos: “Well- I- Yo- We- He-”

He Was Immediately Silenced By His Boyfriend’s Lips Making Contact With His. They Stayed Like That For A Few Minutes Before Sanford Pulled Back And Got Back To The Stove. Deimos Just Sat There In Shock, His Face All Hot And Red. That Was Their First Ever Kiss, And Deimos Wanted To Be Involved Too. Just Thinking About It Made Him More Flustered. He Must've Been Spaced Out For A While Because When He Looked Up, Sanford Wasn't There. He Checked His Tablet Again And Saw A Notification: A Text From Hank.

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Hank: Lol. Sanford Told Me You Screamed When I Asked.

Hank: That Probably Was Really Funny In Person

Hank: If Only He Recorded It.

Hank: *[One Attachment Sent]*

{Hank: He Didn’t Answer My Question. Did You Guys Kiss Yet Orrr?

Sanford: Well Yes And No. You Embarrassed Him Lol. It Was So Funny Haha

Sanford: He Screamed When He Saw Your Message, Then I Kissed Him.

Hank: Pfft- Are You Serious?! Wow Lol

Sanford: Yeah Lmao. Made Me Throw A Pancake At The Ceiling. It Was Mine Too :(

Sanford: Good Wasted Pancake :(

Sanford: *[One Attachment Sent]* {Image Description: A Gray Tiled Ceiling With A Medium-Sized Pancake Smacked In Between 4 Tiles.}

Hank: XD}

Deimos: I-

Deimos: YOU!! >:( THAT WAS YOUR FAULT HANK J. WIMBLETON!!

Deimos: YOU MADE HIM WASTE HIS PANCAKE. THAT WAS YOU!!

Deimos: YOU FUDGING BULLY >:(

Deimos: I'LL HECKING FIGHT YOU!!

Hank: XD

Hank: Yeah Right Lol. I'll See You Later

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A Couple Minutes Pass And Sanford Taps Deimos On The Shoulder. Dee Turns Around To See His Boyfriend Fully Dressed. A Pile Of Clothes Was Placed In The Seat Next To The Shorter Man. Deimos Could Only Assume It Was His Clothing, As Hank Did Invite Them Over To See Tricky. The Smoker Popped A Cigarette In His Mouth And Left To Get Dressed. Once He Got Back, He Put His Cigarette In The Ashtray And Got Sanford Greeted With A Kiss. Well 2, One On The Forehead And One On The Mouth.

Deimos: “You Know, You Could’ve Waited Till I Was Ready For The Kiss.”

Sanford: “Why? It Would’ve Been A Year Or Two If You Said You Were Ready. That’s Basically How Our Relationship Started. Everyone Knows That, Ev-EVEN TRICKY KNOWS!”

Deimos’s Face Just Heated Up, He Knew That Was True And Couldn't Argue. After That Chat, Sanford And Deimos Got In Their Car And Headed To The Base. Deimos Was Messaging Hank During The Entire Ride. Hank Was Teasing Deimos A Lot About The Kiss, And How Deimos Reacted When It Was First Brought Up. Deimos Yelled-Texted At Hank Again, Causing The Man In The Red Goggles To Laugh Again. Dee Put His Tablet Away Once They Got To The Base. Of Course, None Other Than Hank Himself Was There To Greet Them And Welcome Them Back In.

They Passed The Savior, Jebus, Who Was Reading A Book, Supposedly A Bible Or Something He Could Find Lying Around. He Was Sitting At A Table With Red Wine In A Fancy Glass And Biscuits On A Plate. Deimos Wondered If Hank Told Him About It, Since He Received A Teasing Look. Sanford Just Thought Nothing Of It, And Wanted To See If Tricky Had Actually Changed Since Their Last Encounter With Him.

Once They Approached Tricky's Room, Or Area (Whatever You Would Call It), They Saw Signs Like 'Caution: Beware The Clown', And 'Do Not Enter Unless You Are Hank'. They Were Also Greeted By The Sound Of Someone Eating Something Viciously.

Looking From The Glass Window On The Wall, They Saw The Clown Filling His Face With All Different Kinds Of Food. He Stopped To Grab A Drink, But Got Distracted By Seeing Hank With Sanford And Deimos. Tricky Immediately Ran To The Glass And Smacked His Face Against It, Causing Ford And Dee To Jump Back.

Tricky Smiled In Delight After Seeing Deimos And Sanford For The First Time In A Long While. He Waved Through The Glass, Then Rushed To The Speaker. The Faint Sound Of Someone Yelling 'HAAANNK!' And 'VALID. FRIENDS' Could Be Heard Through The Speaker. The Door Suddenly Opened Slowly, The Smell Of All Kinds Of Foods Plus Blood Pouring Out Of The Opening And The Cracks. The Clown Immediately Jumped Out Of The Room, Startling The Trio.

Tricky: "SANFORD! HANK! DEIMOS! FRIENDS! VALID. YES."

Hank Actually Smiled Upon Tricky's Entrance, He Patted The Clown's Head Twice And Let The Other 2 Do The Same Thing After. They Talked About Everything That Happened, And Caught Up With Each Other. Jebus Entered The Room Half Way Through The Conversation And Joined In. They Chatted For Hours, Tricky Was The One To Point Out The Time To Everyone. Sanford Said That He And Deimos Had To Leave, As It Was Late (11:12 PM).

They Said Their Goodbyes Before Ford And Dee Headed Out. They Stayed Silent In The Car, Just Thinking About How Much The Others Have Changed. Tricky, Who Has Become More Friendly And Takes Baths. Hank, Who Is More Calm And 'Married To A Blender'. And Jebus, Who Has More Control And Is Starting To Learn Dad Jokes.

Deimos: "I Had Fun Chatting With Them After A While. I Just Wish Candice Was There With Us, I Miss Her."

Sanford: "...We Didn't Know A Candice."

Deimos, Grinning: "I Know Candice. I've Known Her For A While Now."

Sanford, Not Falling For It: "Good For You. Is She Nice?"

Deimos: "....Y-Yeah…...Although Her House Really Smells Like Updog. It's A Problem."

Sanford: "......Really?"

Deimos, Pushing The Joke: "Yes, Especially The Kitchen. It Really Reeks Of Updog. It's Disgusting, Bleck"

Sanford, Sighing And Smiling: "What Is Updog?"

Deimos, Giggling Like A Child: "Nahat Much Wh-"

Deimos Couldn't Finish His Sentence Because He Was Laughing. Sanford Just Snorted And Smiled, He Always Knew How He Could Get His Boyfriend Lost In Laughter. Even If A Joke Wasn't Really That Funny, Deimos Could Be Laughing For An Hour. He Absolutely Loves Jokes Of All Kinds And It Doesn't Matter Who Tells Them. By The Time They Arrived Home, Deimos Was Still Slightly Giggling And Wiping A Tear From His Eye.

Sanford Carried Deimos Into The House, As The Man In The Visor Finished His Giggling Fit. Ford Set His Boyfriend Onto The Couch And Started Getting Ready For Bed. He Left Dee Some Comfy Clothes To Slip Into For Bed. About A Couple Minutes Later They Both Were On The Couch In Pajamas (Or Just Clothes They Never Wear To Work).

Deimos: "Why Weren’t You Laughing At The Joke, Sanford?"

Sanford: "The Joke Wasn't That Funny, Deimos. You've Heard It Over One Hundred Times Already."

Deimos, Giggling Again: "But..It's Funny."

Sanford, Trying Not To Smile: "It-It's Really Not."

Deimos, Now Full On Laughing: "I- It Was Funny When Hank Fell For The Candice Joke." *He Smacked His Side While He Laughed* "It Hurt Like Hell, But It Was Worth It!"

Sanford, Smiling But Trying Hard Not To Laugh: "Oh Right I Forgot About That."

Sanford Then Let Deimos Cuddle Against Him As He Laughed Again. He Only Laughed Harder When Sanford Yelled, 'It's Not That Funny!'. Eventually, Ford Was Laughing As Well With His Boyfriend. They Laughed Until They Eventually Fell Asleep. Today Was A Good Day For Both Of Them, And They Were Happy They Could Spend It Together, Like Old Times.

[robert-de-niro-only-fans]

Just Friends

The Deer Hunter!Robert De Niro x Reader

I’m so sorry this took so long. Hope you like pining!

TW: age gap, mention of illness, idk high word count?

Word Count: 8.8k

"Why don't you let (Y/N) come with me? It would be a great opportunity for her to see what's it's like to film in some open locations instead of the sets here in New York. Plus she'll get to meet a great cast of actors, you know how hard we had to push to get John Cazale in the movie. She could learn so much from him." "I don't know, Robert. All the arrangements have been made for the crew's travel and lodging; I wouldn't want to make production any more difficult just so my daughter can watch you guys make a movie." "Ah, it shouldn't be a big deal. It's not too hard to buy an extra plane ticket, and she can just crash with me. Plus we could probably use the extra hands on set at some point." You can't help but feel completely giddy as you overhear Robert urging your father to let you go with him as he films his next movie. You're the daughter of a New York-based movie producer, who had gotten somewhat popular and had enough connections to know some really great actors and actresses. Your dad met Robert De Niro when he was acting in Brian De Palma's early films, and they had been planning on working together for a long time. However, Robert and your dad both stayed busy, and now Robert is a pretty big star since Taxi Driver released just last year. You got to know Robert when you were just a teenager. He would come over to your home for small get-togethers your dad liked to throw. You always liked being around him, so it was lucky for you that your dad and him became good friends. Robert is good about visiting when he has the chance to, but his visits have been less frequent lately as his career is really taking off. And that's what he was doing here today: a quick visit with you and your dad before he has to run off and make another film. The conversation turned, however, when you started discussing how you were becoming interested in working on films, particularly acting. Although most actors started younger than you, and being in your early twenties is already considered old for an actress, you decided it wasn't too late to start. Robert had a soft spot for learning and teaching acting, although his teaching came as little tidbits of advice. That's why you are shocked to hear Robert ask about you going with him for filming, while you're in the kitchen fixing everyone drinks. You walk in, carrying three glasses on a small tray and set them down on the table, then handing each of the men a glass. They both thank you as you take your seat across from them. "Sooo..." you raise your eyebrows and give your dad a hopeful smile. "Yes, (Y/N)?" "Can I go with Robert? I overheard what you two were saying." Your dad sits back and exhales a little loudly. He was trying to be stern but you could tell he was hiding a smile. He could never be an actor; he couldn't hide his real feelings very well. He turns to Robert asking, "Are you sure it's okay if she goes with you?" "Of course. I'll take good care of her," he says sweetly. You always thought he was very sweet. "Okay, sweetheart, you can go, not that I could stop you anyway, but I appreciate that you ask," your father says as a smile spreads across his face. "Dad!! Thank you so much!" He was right; you were an adult, but you had always lived with him, so you felt you needed to ask before going across the country. You jump up and give your dad a big hug. "You better start packing," Robert says with a chuckle, "we leave for Ohio tomorrow." "What kind of clothes should I bring?" you ask Robert. "What you would normally wear. Bring a few nice outfits for dinners. And we'll stop back in New York before going to Washington, because it'll be pretty cold and we'll all need warmer clothes." The smile on his face tells you he's excited about you going with him. You ask sit and talk a little longer, with Robert telling you and your dad about the general schedule about how you'll spend a several weeks in Ohio where most of the film takes place, a few days here and there in Pennsylvania and West Virginia, take a break for a few weeks, then go to Washington State for all of the hunting scenes. After that, a smaller portion of the cast and crew will go to Thailand to film the war scenes. This is also when you find out that the beard he is sporting is for the movie and not just some new fashion choice. You quite like the beard as well as his haircut, it suits him unexpectedly well. As it starts getting late, you make the move to go up to your room to pack. So you say goodnight to Robert and your dad, giving them both big hugs as a thank you for letting you go for filming, and you head upstairs to squeeze all of your clothes and toiletries into a suitcase. Downstairs, Robert stays to talk with your dad a little while longer before heading home. "Now, Robert, you said (Y/N) would be staying with you, right?" "Yes. Is that okay?" "Well..." your dad starts but he certainly doesn't want to offend Robert, "you won't, umm, do anything... with her, will you?" "Hmm? Oh. Oh! Um, no, I won't do anything like that with her. I hadn't even thought about it. I just uuhh- I just thought it would be better if she stayed with me instead sticking her in a random hotel room away from the rest of us... Most of the hotel rooms have two beds anyways." Robert tries desperately to get rid of the blush that came to his cheeks as he stumbles through what he's saying. He had never thought of you that way before, and it caught him off guard and kind of gave him butterflies in his stomach. "Yeah, you're probably right about her staying with you. She's probably safer with you than taking her chances somewhere else," your dad says with look of relief. "Yeah, well, I'm sorry I brought up the idea so last minute, but she'll be okay with me." "No, it's okay. It's a good opportunity for her. I think you guys will have a great time! Now, how do you think Michael is gonna film this thing?" Your dad and Robert discuss the production and direction of the movie for a short while before Robert really has to leave to go home and sleep. When you hear that he's about to leave, you quickly make your way down the stairs to tell him goodnight and thank him again for taking you with him. He pulls you into a gentle hug, placing one of his hands on the back of your head. "You're very welcome, (Y/N). Now, I'll be here at 7 in the morning to pick you up; I wanna take you to breakfast before we head to the airport. That'll also give us some time for someone to get on the phone and get you a plane ticket!" You had no doubt Robert would be able to get you on the plane. And with that, he left, and you went upstairs to pack the last few things you would need before trying to get some sleep, although that didn't come so easy due to the excitement you're feeling. • • • The next day goes just the way Robert said it would: he picks you up right at 7, loads your bags in the car, and takes you to breakfast at his favorite place. It's an upscale place but in a subdued way. You enjoy each other's company over biscuits, eggs, pancakes, coffee, bacon, whatever your heart desires as Robert put it. On the way to the airport, he admits that he got your plane ticket sorted out before he arrived for breakfast, and there was a seat in first class with the rest of the cast. Right next to him. But it's really no issue. He swears he didn't have to buy someone out of their seat. After checking your bags and boarding the plane, Robert introduces everyone to you: Christopher Walken, Meryl Streep, her husband John Cazale, George Dzundza, and John Savage, who everyone opted to call Savage. Meryl and John immediately took a liking to you, which you were honored. The flight was pretty packed, so the cast was all split up across first class, so everyone agreed that you should have dinner tonight to celebrate the beginning of filming. During takeoff you feel Robert put his hand on top of yours, and you quickly turn your head to face him. "You comfortable?" He asks softly. "Oh... Yeah, are you?" "Yep." You look down at his hand on yours. He strokes his thumb over your hand for a moment before pulling it away and looking out the window. You'd be lying if you said that didn't make you feel something. • • • The rest of your flight is uneventful, aside from a few people asking for autographs from the cast as you're leaving the airport. Outside, you are all met with a giant black van, and the director of the movie, Michael Cimino hops out to greet everyone and help put bags in the undercarriage. Everyone climbs inside the van, you sticking close to Robert, simply because you don't know anyone else yet. It's very comfortable and spacious inside, certainly the nicest van you'd ever seen. You and Robert end up all the way in the back, with everyone else doubling up on the seats in front of you. You've got a little bit of a drive to your hotel. Only a few minutes into your trip, everyone is chatting away, and you're finally getting to meet everyone properly, although you're getting to know Meryl and John the best because they're on the seat right in front of you. You instantly notice that John has a fantastic sense of humor; it's no wonder Meryl is so in love with him. Robert has his arm around your shoulders, but you can't tell if it's because he just wants to stretch out across the seat or if it's something else. Either way, he's only there like that for a few moments before he goes to the front of the van to talk to the director. "Guess I got stranded back here," you say with a chuckle to Meryl and John. "Oh, yeah, he's been so involved with Michael in getting this film made," Meryl throws over her shoulder to you. She turns on her seat to face you a little better, "Can I ask you a rather personal question?" "Oh, um, sure." You were certainly nervous to hear what she had to say. "Are you and Robert dating one another?" A breath of relief leaves you in the form of a small laugh, "Oh God, no! He's a friend of my dad's, so we've known each other a long time. He wanted to bring me along so I could learn more about filmmaking." "Oh, that's sweet of him. I apologize for assuming. I guess it's just, uh--oh nevermind," she gives a small smile and looks down at her lap. "No, it's okay! What is it?" "You two are just close, which I suppose that makes sense if you've been friends for so long! I just misinterpreted your relationship." A big smile stretches across her face as John chimes in. "Well if she didn't ask, I was going to, so it's probably good we cleared the air now, right?" "Right!" you respond. "Besides, I'm sure the other guys will all badger him about you, whether it's about him being a cradle robber or them trying to get with you." The three of you laugh, knowing that what John said is probably going to be true. "What are y'all laughing about back there?" Savage pipes up, breaking his attention away from the conversation going on between him, Chris, and George. "My receding hairline." John deadpans to the group in front of them. There's a long pause before everyone busts out in laughter, which then catches the attention of Michael and Robert at the front of the van. They both turn around to see what's going on, and Robert gives you a smile, scrunching his nose cutely. They decide not to get involved, and go back to their conversation. The rest of you talk in a big group the rest of the way to the hotel. • • • At the hotel, production rented out a whole floor for all of the cast and crew to stay on, with the cast kind of grouped near each other on one end. As for this first hotel you'll be at, and it is the main hotel you'll stay at while in Ohio, there are two beds in each room. A lot of the film crew picked partners and doubled up, but of course the director, executive producers, and main cast get their own rooms, with the exception of Meryl and John, and now Robert because he offered to have you with him. When you get in the hotel room, you drop your bags at the door and run to one of the beds, flopping on it and sinking into the comfort. Robert chuckles at you as you grab a pillow to cuddle up with. He drops your bags at the foot of the bed before asking, "I'm assuming you want this bed?" You look up at him lazily, "I don't really care. Do you have a preference?" "Not really; I'll take the other bed," he laughs at you again as he drops his bags near the other bed. "What are you laughing at?" You squint your eyes, questioning him playfully, still hugging your pillow. "You. And your pillow." "Mmmm... I think you're just jealous." "Jealous?! My bed has pillows too. See?" He picks up a pillow and hugs it just like you. "No no no. You're jealous of the pillow. You wish I was squeezing you like this!" "Oh you think so, huh?" He throws his pillow at you. You block it with your arms and it hits the ground. "I'm keeping that," you say sassily. "Fine with me," he says, too calmly. That's quickly broken when he charges towards you, ripping the pillow out of your arms as you burst into laughter. He picks you up around your waist, spins you around a few times and slams you both down on his bed, his arms still firmly around you. "Now I don't have to be jealous," he jokes. You wrap your arms around his head and neck, hugging him into your chest, just like you had done with the pillow. "No, you don't have to be jealous anymore." He gives you one final squeeze and then stands up. "We have a little while before we have to get ready for dinner. Any idea what you wanna do?" You groan a little, "Sleep." You smile up at him. "Well then you better get in your bed instead of hogging mine." "Excuse me! You put me here, so you'll have to move me back!" "Needy," he grumbles jokingly, picking you up and tossing you down on your bed. "You ever heard of letting someone down easy, Robert? Cuz you keep throwing me." He chuckles lowly, moving towards his luggage, "Go to sleep." You grab the extra pillow from the floor and get comfy. One pillow under your head, cuddled up to a second one, a third under one of your legs, and the duvet pulled up to your head. Pure bliss. "You look like a little princess with all those pillows," Robert's voice echoes across the hotel room. "Good. Then let me get me beauty sleep." While he's unpacking some of his clothes and stuff, he finds himself thinking about how you really don't need sleep to look any more beautiful than you already are. • • • That night at dinner, it didn't take long for John's predictions to come true. Just a few minutes after ordering food, Chris caught everyone's attention when he asked, "Bobby, you and this gorgeous young lady... What's going on with you two?" "Whaddaya mean, what's going on with us?" Robert repeats with a laugh. "Well, she's your girlfriend isn't she? I gotta say I'm a little jealous Bobby gets to bring his girlfriend, but I don't get to bring my lovely wife." "Chris, we're not dating. She's just a friend; I've known her dad for a long time." Savage butts in, practically yelling, "Of course she wouldn't date him! He's old enough to be her dad! Unless you're into that kinda stuff, baby." You turn to John and you both start laughing about how Savage managed, not only to joke about Robert being significantly older than you, but also use it to hit on you. "This again? What's so funny?!" John yells. "You had to be there," you cut back to Savage, trying not to smile, but failing. Robert cuts in, "Ya know, I just wanna say: I'm not old enough to be her dad." It kind of surprised you that he would even bother defending himself; it was clearly just a joke, but everyone laughed nonetheless. "You're only, like, 15 years older than her right?" George jokes. A little bit of a blush creeps up Robert's neck, and he bites his lip, "...yeah." This only makes everyone laugh more. Under the table, you place your hand on top of Robert's and you both give each other a small look while laughing. It's a short moment, broken by Michael walking up to the table. Everyone knew he would be late, but you still invited him anyway. Michael slides in next to Robert and asks, "What's so funny?" "Eh, you don't wanna know," Robert shoots back. You and John are trying very hard not to have another laughing fit. Luckily things are fairly calm while everyone is eating, but it doesn't last long after everyone is done. You catch John whispering in Meryl's ear before he turns to the table and says, "Alright, let Meryl and I slide out, my lady wants to dance." Pretty much everyone stands up to let them out of the booth, and Chris, noticing that Robert is once again deep in conversation with Michael, invites you to dance to "keep those other dogs off of you." George and Savage sneak off to find some nice Ohio locals to dance with. Robert and Michael slide back into the booth, chatting like they do. Meryl and John are being beyond cute dancing with one another and nuzzling noses. Chris is a real gentleman while dancing with you. He holds you close, and you maintain some casual conversation getting to know each other better. George finds sweet girl to try and romance, but Savage is having some trouble, so he simply steals you away from Chris, asking if he could dance with you instead. Chris thanks you for your time and returns to the table joining in the talk with Michael and Robert. Dancing with Savage is a little bit intense, as he lays it on thick hitting on you. At one point, he leans his head down and starts placing kisses on your cheek and even a few on your neck. This is when you catch Robert basically staring a hole in you. He stands up and makes his way over to you and Savage. Robert places a hand on Savage's shoulder, lowly speaking, "You mind if I borrow your dance partner?" "Mm... But we were having fun," Savage whines sarcastically, but gives in and leaves you with Robert. "What, you didn't like him kissing on me? I knew you were the jealous type," you snark at him. "Nooo. I told your dad I would take care of you, and a guy like him is no good for a girl your age." He wraps an arm around you, figuring that he should probably dance with you. "My knight in shining armor!" Another joke. "Oh shut up," he chuckles. • • • The next day, you all wake up bright and early to head to the tailors on location so that everyone can get their makeup done and costumes on. You had to admit Robert looked pretty funny in his flannel, puffy vest, and trucker cap. It was nothing like what he would normally wear. The first few scenes that are gonna be filmed during this first week are the first few scenes of the film, where all of the characters are seen at the steel mill and they prepare for the wedding and being drafted. The dynamic of the cast actually worked pretty well for these scenes. Everyone got along quite well, so it wasn't hard for them to act like they had been friends their whole lives. You noticed that filming goes a bit slower when it's shot on location like this, and it was made even slower by Michael Cimino. Michael was very particular about the way he wanted things, and there were lots of noises to work around as they filmed at an actual steel mill. You also spent more time in the makeup trailor than you had expected to; you found it fascinating how they made the men look like they weren't wearing any makeup at all. You and Meryl also spent a good amount of time together when she wasn't in a scene. She said that it was nice having another girl around on a predominantly male set. Of course, you weren't the only girl, but you were one of few. There isn't really a scene that Robert isn't in, so unfortunately, you don't see him much unless everyone is taking a break, or if you hang out with him while he's in makeup. But you make the most of it by getting to know everyone else. • • •

On nights after filming, the cast hangs out really often, normally in someone's hotel room, usually Meryl and John's. Sometimes you would go to a bar or a restaurant, as drinking and dancing became some of the groups' favorite activities. Hanging out in Meryl and John's hotel room usually includes wine, snacks, playing cards, and Robert's arm casually around your waist whenever you get near him. Savage still shoots his shot with you every once in a while, but if he isn't shut down by you, he will be shut down by Robert. He's just watching out for you like he promised your dad; really, it's flattering how protective he can be. • • • The second week of filming is dedicated to filming the wedding scenes. Everyone looks great in their tuxedos and dresses, and the church you'll be filming in is a beautiful Russian Orthodox Church here in Cleveland. "How do I look?" Robert asks you while he's getting his hair gelled and combed into place. "Very handsome. I really like you in that tuxedo." "Maybe he can borrow it when you two finally get married," Michael says coming into the makeup trailor. You and Robert both look at him a little shocked; Michael's never made jokes about you two before. "Oh, c'mon, I'm not allowed to make jokes too?" You both laugh a little awkwardly trying to cut any tension in the room. "I'm gonna go outside and help with all the extras," you say, swiftly leaving the makeup trailor. Outside, there are like a hundred people who showed up to be extras in the wedding scene, and you're sure Michael will probably use most of them. The people are all dressed up in their finest wedding attire, some of them getting a little makeup done or getting some items from costume to make the scene fit Michael's vision. They were told to bring empty presents as well, so that the table full of wedding presents would look realistic; however, many of them actually brought real presents for the cast and crew to keep. Filming the wedding scene was really chaotic to say the least. It felt like a party that went on for way too long, and most everyone was pretty exhausted by the end of filming with the extras that day. But you had to say, Meryl and Robert really stole the show. Their on-screen chemistry was astounding; you would've thought they were really in love or something! You loved watching the way Robert's character pined for Meryl's; his eyes always said so much. And of course, filming wouldn't have felt complete without John adding in his funny little quirks in various scenes, such as tapping his foot while waiting for the bride to walk down the aisle, and carrying Robert across the room for the group photo. Althought most of the filming with the extras had to be done in one day, the other scenes filmed that week included a couple of the bar scenes of the guys playing pool and drinking, and the scene where Robert streaks through town, which certainly had you blushing. Thank God you were filming at night. • • • Your last two weeks of filming in Ohio are spent filming anything that wasn't a hunting scene or a war scene. Production had to make a point of scheduling all of John's scenes early in the filming process, because it is no secret how sick he is. One night after filming, you all decide it would be fun to go out to one of the bars, as everyone had been pretty busy, and there hadn't been much time to. Everyone wants to go dancing again! You've had a hard time getting Robert to dance with you since your first night in Ohio. He really doesn't like to since he's so shy, even though he's very good at slow dances. That night, you dance with Chris again, and Meryl dances with Savage, while Robert hangs back at the table with John. John really isn't feeling well; it's one of his bad days, but he never lets it ruin the mood. Savage and Meryl makes their way over to you on the dance floor, and Savage asks, "Hey, can I cut in? I'd love to have a dance partner that pretty!" "Uh, sure, man," Chris answers. Savage practically shoves himself between you and Chris, quickly taking Chris by the hand and putting an arm around him before spinning him around. "Beautiful!" Savage yells, dipping Chris back, getting a round of laughs and even some applause from everyone around. You and Meryl take this as a chance to slip over to the bar, to get a break from your heels. You sit with your backs leaning up against the bar so you can keep an eye on all your friends. "Have you had fun filming with us all this time?" Meryl asks kindly, as she always does. "Oh yeah, it's been really great, and I've been learning so much about the filming process, and you're all wonderful actors to look up to!" "That's so sweet of you. The guys here have all done a wonderful job with their parts so far. Especially Robert. He's been in nearly every scene, and he's so involved with Michael and production. I don't know where he gets his energy!" "Yeah, he stays busy. I sleep in the same room as him and sometimes it seems like I don't even see him," you giggle. "Oh, but when he does get to be around you, it certainly seems you have his attention," Meryl points out, "I know you've said you two are just close, but I really think he likes you." "You think he likes me? Why do you think he likes me?" "Well, he's quite watchful of you, making sure you never get into trouble, especially around Savage. He always has an arm around you when we're hanging out at the hotel. And the way he looks at you. He looks at you... Well, he looks at you the way he looks at me when we're filming." You both look over at Robert and John. John smiles at Meryl and gives her a funny little wink. Robert turns to look when he realizes John isn't looking at him anymore, raising his eyebrows when he sees you and Meryl staring back at him. Him and John turn back to their conversation, shaking off whatever trouble you and Meryl are getting into. "You know the tension between you two is almost unbearable, right?" John says in a casual tone, knowing that this question is anything but casual. "I'm sorry, what?" Robert sputters. "You and (Y/N). It's so obvious to everyone that you have feelings for one another. Well, obvious to everyone but you and her, apparently." He gives Robert a side eye and raised eyebrows. "I mean... I care about (Y/N), but I- I don't have feelings for her. Her dad would kill me." "You don't have feelings for her, or you feel like you shouldn't have feelings for her?" There's a long silence between them. Robert looks up at John in a way that lets John know he's right. "Take it from me, Bobby. Life's too short." With that, Robert stands up, and walks over to you and Meryl, still at the bar. "Excuse me," he starts, always a gentleman, "Meryl, would you mind if I borrowed (Y/N) from you?" "Oh! No, go ahead," she says with a small laugh. "(Y/N)," there's a bit of a nervous tone in his voice, "would you like to dance with me? I know I've been avoiding it for weeks now." "I'd love to," you smile at him. He puts his hands on your hips, lifting you off of the tall bar stool and helping you to the ground. On the dancefloor, he pulls you into his chest with an arm around your waist and a hand tangled in the back of your hair. Your hands rest on his hips, and you slowly sway back and forth together, even when the song playing wasn't slow. It wasn't really proper slow dancing, but you weren't going to complain; you both enjoyed the closeness. That night at the hotel, you decide to watch a movie together before going to bed; you didn't have to be up super early for once. So you both hop into your pajamas, and Robert finds something on the TV and pats the spot on the bed next to him. "I have my own bed, you know?" you joke. "I know, but it's no fun watching a movie that far apart. Would you sit on a different couch if we were in a living room?" "I guess you have a point." You climb onto his bed, and he puts his arm around your shoulders, watching the movie which was already started, but it is close enough to the beginning. Part of the way through the movie, Robert's eyes linger down to your hand resting on your lap, although you don't notice this. In fact, you're quite sleepy. You feel his fingers gently grace over the back of your hand, and you react by turning your hand over for him. He softly traces little shapes into the palm of your hand, and he teases at your finger tips like he wants to lace his fingers with yours. You decide to bite the bullet and go for it. The next time his fingertips grace yours, you slide your fingers in between his, holding his hand. You're both way to nervous to look at each other, so you both just go back to watching the movie while he strokes his thumb over yours. • • • The next morning, you wake up surrounded by the Robert's scent, which is always very nice, but no Robert nearby. You quickly realize that you're still in his bed; you must have fallen asleep during the movie last night. You sit up looking around for your roommate, and you find him in your bed, looking up at you as if he was waiting for you to find him. The sun spilling in through the window and across his face accentuated his dimples and the smile lines around his eyes. He, too, looked like a sunbeam as he grinned up at you. "Good morning, sleepy head. You fell asleep during our movie, and I didn't have the heart to move you, so I figured we could just trade beds for the night," he says lightly laughing. It seemed like he was in a very good mood this morning. "Oh, well thank you for giving me your bed all to myself. It probably would've been way too hot if you stayed over here." "Mmm, I knew you thought I was hot," he has a smug look on his face. "No! I meant like body temperature. You're probably like a human heater when you sleep!" you argue with him. "Well, wouldn't you like to know?" he jokes, getting up out of bed to get ready to go to set. "I don't ever wanna know!" you yell as he closes the bathroom door. Just a little while later, as everyone is heading out of the hotel to get in the big black van and go to the filming location, John looks at you and asks, "So what is it that you don't wanna know?" "Huh?" you reply to John. "We heard you yell at Robert 'I don't ever wanna know!' through the walls a little while ago." You had no idea the walls were that thin, and you wonder what else they had heard. Robert butts in, "Oh, that was just (Y/N) trying to deny that she thinks I'm hot and wants to sleep with me," with a devilish look on his face. "ROBERT!" you yell, hitting him on the shoulder. "That is totally taken out of context, and you know it!" Everyone is roaring with laughter, while you blush a deep shade of pink. Robert puts all of the jokes to rest by telling everyone what really happened, but conveniently leaving out the part about you two holding hands for a while last night. • • • The next few days are pretty normal, although bittersweet, as it is the last few days of filming in Ohio. The cast spends a lot of time hanging out in Meryl and John's hotel room, and everyone goes out to the bar to celebrate on the last night on location. You go back to New York with Robert and most of the cast the day after filming wraps in Ohio. You would have a break for a few weeks before flying out to Washington for filming the hunting scenes. Everyone says their goodbyes at the airport, with John throwing in one final joke, "Invite us to the wedding if you two decide to elope before Washington!" You and Robert were used to it at that point; it was an every day thing that someone made a joke about you two getting together, but it really didn't bother either of you too much. Hell, even you made jokes about yourselves sometimes. Of course, Robert makes sure to take you home himself, or have his driver take you both to your house. You were so excited to see your dad again! You had called him several times while you were gone, but that doesn't mean you didn't miss him. You and your dad share a long embrace as he invites Robert in for a drink before he goes home. Robert kindly accepts coming in to relax for a while. Immediately, your dad notices how much closer you and Robert are, but he figures that spending a month together will probably do that to any two people. He's just glad you've made some important connections in the film industry. The two men listened intently as you spoke cheerfully of all of your experiences and the things you learned during the first leg of filming, Robert adding in some bits here or there. You both decided to leave out the jokes everyone made about you two getting together, assuming it would be an awkward conversation to have. Robert doesn't stay as long as he normally would've, because he has to be up early in the morning to go meet with other producers and directors. He stays so busy; you know you won't see him again until it's time to film. When he goes to leave, Robert pulls you up into a big hug telling you how fun it's been having you around, and that he can't wait to take you to Washington. • • • A couple of weeks go by, and everything is as it was at home with your dad. Except now you miss Robert a lot of the time, because you had been so close. You missed all of the cast; you had all become such good friends. Either way, you tried to keep busy by going to work with your dad a lot and looking into new roles to audition for, although you found yourself more interested in other aspects of film production since going to Ohio. One night, your dad calls you downstairs, because there's a call for you on the home phone. Your dad tells you that it's Robert, and he's asking to talk to you. You weren't expecting to hear from him at all, so you can't help but worry that something is wrong, especially with John being sick. "Hello?" you say into the phone. "Hey, there," Robert's tone is unreadable. "You rang?" "Yeah, I did. Um... I know this is last minute, but I wanted to know if you would come over for dinner tomorrow? My schedule opened up tomorrow night, and I gotta admit I miss you more than I thought I would." "Oh..." you silently thank God your dad had walked off, "just you and me?" "Yeah, I was thinking I could order room service for dinner, and we could watch a movie like we did at the hotel. Plus I think everyone else is probably busy, unless you want me to invite your other boyfriend," he giggles. He was referring to Savage and how he relentlessly tried to hit on you. "Oh, no. I don't think I could deal with both of you," you reply with a laugh. "That's what I thought. So, I'll see you tomorrow at seven?" "Yep. See you then!" The next night arrives quickly, and now the dilemma you're facing is that you have no idea what to where. Is this casual? Does he want you to dress up? You aren't sure, and it's too late to call him; he's probably almost here. You decide to go casual, but not sweatpants casual. Why would Robert want you to dress up to go to his apartment? Seems like Robert went for the same kind of attire, you see when he shows up. You throw a quick goodbye and a kiss on the cheek to your dad before Robert leads you out to the car with a hand on the small of your back. It's not too long of a car ride to his place, because you both live in the city; however, somewhere in the middle of the trip, Robert abruptly asks his driver to stop at a bakery up ahead. You give the man next to you a confused look, and he smiles saying, "Look, I have to start doing some pretty intense training for another movie, so this might be one of the last times I get to eat cake for a while! I was thinking we could pick something up to have after dinner." There's a brief pause between you two, then Robert quickly adds on, "You can pick out whatever you want! I'll buy it!" You can't help but laugh at his excitement, and you take his hand as he basically rips you out of the car and into the bakery. The smell in the air was incredible; it makes you want to buy everything in the shop. So you and Robert go crazy picking out anything and everything that looks good, all the while giggling like school girls with one another! You arrive at Robert's apartment with bags of desserts in tow, and almost immediately, you're placing an order with room service for dinner. Stopping by the bakery had made you both very hungry. The desserts were left in the kitchen as the two of you make your way to the couch, in an effort to avoid eating all the sweets that smelled so heavenly. Robert quickly found something on the TV, although he didn't turn it up very loud; you both knew you'd be talking anyway. He leans back into the couch, putting an arm comfortably around you. At this point, it wasn't a big deal for you two to be hanging all over one another. "I didn't think I would miss you this much," Robert blurts out, "uhh, I mean, we just spent so much time together, more than I would normally spend with anyone from set." "Yeah? You miss spending the night with me?" you joke. Robert rolls his eyes. You continue, "Miss waking up to my beautiful face every day? Or waiting for me to get out the shower?" "Oh, stop! You know it wasn't like that," Robert said with a grin, but his face quickly drops into a serious look. He reaches up and gently pushes your hair behind your ear. His eyes looked over your whole face, appreciating all of your features, before locking eyes with you. He tangles his fingers in your hair at the nape of your neck and pulls you close, placing his forehead against yours. You weren't completely sure what he was doing, but you weren't mad about it. Almost instinctively, you close your eyes and begin nuzzling your nose against his. At first just bumping the end of your nose against his, and then you feel his nose next to yours as he moves closer to you. Everything feels like it's happening in slow motion. His hand still firmly grasping your hair, a tiny giggle leaves your lips for whatever reason. You feel the hair from his beard tickle your chin, and the butterflies in your stomach go crazy as you realize he's about to kiss you. His bottom lip barely graces yours, and the doorbell rings. Room service with the dinner you ordered. Your eyes fly open, seeing Robert pull back from you and take a deep breath, washing the intense expression off of his face. "I'm sorry," he says standing up and straightening out his shirt, "I don't know what I was thinking." Before you could say anything, he was opening the door, and dinner was brought in by one of the apartment staff. You took a moment to get it together and put whatever just happened behind you. You assume Robert decided to do the same, because the rest of the evening goes by relatively normal. You both enjoy dinner and of course all the desserts you picked up earlier! Not without lots of laughs anyway, as Robert keep poking fun at you for how you lit up like a child at the bakery. "Oh, like you didn't pick out just as many, if not MORE things than me!" You shout at him, which earns you a laugh from the man next to you. "In fact, it was YOUR idea to go in, Mr. I-have-to-get-in-shape-for-a-new-movie!" He cuts his eyes at you as if to say something, but instead shoves a pastry in your mouth, smearing icing across your lips and chin. You both double over in a fit of laughter, reaching for napkins to clean your face with. Thank goodness that was the highlight of the evening, so you had something other than "oh yeah, Robert almost kissed me" to tell your dad when you got home. • • •

As you would've guessed, you didn't see Robert again until you were headed to Washington. You sit with him on the plane again, but this time, a lot of the cast had different flights, traveling in from other parts of the world. The flight takes most of your day, as it's definitely the evening by the time you are picked up at the airport. Up in the mountains, it is freezing, first of all. Luckily you're from New York, and Washington isn't much further North, so you know how to handle the cold. Second, they have the whole cast and crew staying in cabins that are scattered along the mountain side. It is already pretty dark, but from what you could see, it's beautiful up on the mountain range. You don't have much to do that night, and all of the cast is arriving at different times, and production setup is running behind (the norm with Michael Cimino), so the cast all agrees to have lunch together the next day before shooting kicks off this week. Robert takes you into the visitor's center that presides over the cabins to pick up keys, and the staff even gives you some warm bowls of soup to take up to the cabin with you. Up in the cabin, you quickly cut the heater on, shivering while you wait on the room to warm up a bit. Robert sets down his bags and the soup, and walks up behind you, putting his hands on your arms and rubbing them vigorously. It warms you up pretty well, especially when he puts his warm hands on your neck. "Mm, thank you," you let out in a moan. "It's no problem, honey," Robert says lowly, almost in a whisper. "You okay?" you ask him. "Mhmm... Just sleepy and thinking about that soup," he says wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling into your neck, "Feel any warmer?" "Well, I stopped shaking," you sink back into him, and place your cold hands on his warm ones. He moves to put your hands under his, stroking the back of your hands with his thumbs. You stay like that for a few minutes before you break the silence, "You wanna eat that soup? Seemed like you were hungry." "Hmm, yeah." He pulls away from you, rubbing your arms a little like he did before, and walks into the little kitchen to get his soup. The room is a few degrees warmer, but this cabin must have horrible insulation or something, because it's still freezing even with the heater on. By the time you head over to the kitchen, Robert is bringing your soup over to the table. You both quickly dig in; Robert because he was hungry, and you because you're so cold. The soup warmed you up pretty well. The rest of the evening, there wasn't too much to do. Robert watched some TV, you went through your clothes making sure you had enough warm stuff before changing into pajamas and climbing into bed. You figured you should go ahead and try to warm your bed up sooner rather than later. A while later, you're still sitting in bed shivering a bit; Robert stands up and chuckles at you before heading out of the room to change clothes. He comes back in sweatpants and a t-shirt and climbs into his bed. "How are you wearing that to bed?" you ask him bewildered. "Um, just like this," he pulls the blankets up over his shoulders. "It's literally freezing in here. You're not cold?" "Nope, are you?" he has that devilish look on his face, knowing the answer to that question. You shoot him a deadpan look and turn over, ignoring him and trying to get warm. "Goodnight, then," Robert laughs. "Goodnight." You both lie there in silence for a while. Robert watches you tossing and turning, bunching the covers up on top of yourself, and still shivering the whole time. "(Y/N)." "What?" You turn to look at him under your huge pile of blankets. "Come here." "What do you mean, come here?" "Come get in bed with me," he says sternly. "Ooooh, no! You're not gonna get to joke about me sleeping with you all week." "(Y/N), you're freezing, and you're not gonna get any sleep like that. Just... Let me keep you warm." The look on his face was one of concern and sincerity. "You won't make fun of me?" you ask sheepishly. "I won't make fun of you." There was a small pause. "You promise?" "Oh my gosh, yes! I promise," he says with a big smile and an eye roll, "Will you get your ass over here already?" You stand up, and he holds the blankets up for you. You sit down and scoot in close to him. Robert drops the blankets on you, before grabbing you and pulling you into his chest. You make a move to protest, until you realize how warm he is. You resign to stay cuddled up to him and tangle your legs with his. You start to drift off to sleep feeling his breath gently on your forehead and his fingers tracing shapes in your back. "I knew it. You are like a human heater," you joke quietly. Without opening his eyes, Robert groans then whispers, "I knew you thought I was hot." • • • The next morning, you both wake up to the sound of the alarm clock. Robert quickly rolls you onto your back and reaches across you to turn off the alarm. You look up at him as he lingers above you for a moment. He gives you a sweet smile before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. It catches you completely off guard, and it's over before you even realize what he has done. He looks into your eyes, and you place a hand on his cheek. It was like a dam broke. You both smash your lips into one another's kissing passionately, hands exploring each other. Robert catches your hand in his, lacing his fingers with yours and pushing your hand up above your head on the pillow. His other hand finds your hair as he continues to move his lips against yours. Your free hand roams his back, while your feet gently rub against his legs underneath the sheets. He pulls away from you slightly, breaking your kiss, both of you breathing heavily. He flashes a toothy smile at you, knowing he looks good, and breathes out, "Good morning!" You giggle and tell him, "Good morning," too. "Hmmm," Robert hums, nuzzling into the crook of your neck leaving little kisses there, "it *is* a good morning..." "I guess everyone was right about us, huh?" you point out. "Oh, who cares what they think?" "I think you do, cradle robber." You both try to look at each other seriously, but that always ends in laughter. Luckily it was a slow morning so you could spend some time together, kissing and figuring out whether or not you wanted to tell everyone at lunch. Just before time to leave, Michael came by to check on both of you and tell you that the van was ready. "Alright, we'll be out in a few minutes," Robert told Michael. "See you at the van!" Michael called out as he closed the door to your cabin. Robert turned to you and snuck his hands up the sides of your jacket, just enough for his fingertips to make contact with your skin. You placed one hand on the back of his neck and the other in his hair, while he leaned into you for one last little makeout session before heading out. You felt your back hit the wall lightly, as the door bursts open and John yells, "What's up, lovebirds--OH!" You and Robert turn to see Meryl and John at the front of your cabin giggling, the rest of the group rushing up to see why John shouted so loudly. You quickly push Robert off of you and blush a deep shade of red. Everyone starts laughing, and John looks at the two of you with a huge grin on his face, and says, "Oooh, you two are never gonna hear the end of this."

[searchingwardrobes]

Valentine Throwbacks: Day 5

This is another one that was written for the Valentine’s Day Prompts back in 2018. This was for Day One: Secret Admirer. I’m posting it last because it has a part two which I’ll post later.

I really wanted it to be Emma who is the secret admirer because all the fics I've read in this genre has Killian as the secret admirer. So I was going through the Chick-fil-A drive thru, mulling over how closed-off Emma could actually do that, and . . . well, this happened. I didn’t realize when I wrote this that the kind of drive thru at our Chick-fil-A was a prototype and not found anywhere else. Basically, instead of driving up to a window, there’s this open area where they just walk out and give you your food.

**Please note: I have made no attempts to hide that this story takes place at a Chick-fil-A. I have tagged it accordingly here and on Ao3. If you have a problem with Chick-fil-A, please just skip this story.**

Summary: Emma Swan is slightly embarrassed to admit that she sometimes goes through the Chick-fil-A drive thru twice a day. She's even more embarrassed to admit she's leaving anonymous notes for the owner-operator, Killian Jones.

Nominated for Best Captain Swan Modern AU One-Shot in the OUAT Fandom Awards 2018

Rated: G

Words: about 3k

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Emma Swan was not a people person. It was for this reason that the Chick-fil-A drive-thru wasn’t her sort of thing. You had to talk – face to face – with at least four people just to get your food. And they asked for your name at the beginning of the entire process. Then everyone afterwards actually used it, with a mega-watt smile on their faces. And Emma Swan never would understand the Southern phenomenon of tacking “Miss” on the front of a person’s first name. Miss Swan, she understood. Miss Emma? Not so much.

But she had to hand it to those cheery employees walking up and down the line with their i-Pads. They were efficient. Which was one of the reasons Emma put aside her anti-social ways on her way to work. No matter how much of a hurry she was in, she could count on Chick-fil-A. She could be in and out of that line in five minutes flat.

Then there was the coffee. Sustainably sourced by local farmers. Or something. There was a big poster about it in the lobby. All Emma knew was that it was damn good, especially for a fast food place. And then there were chickin-minis. She had Mary Margaret to blame for getting her hooked on those. Or more accurately, her four year old son Leo. Tiny nuggets wrapped in tiny fluffy biscuits. Where had those been all her life? It was her new favorite food. Okay, breakfast food. Grilled cheese and onion rings still held the one and two spot.

So she gladly put up with the bright smiles and the over-the-top hospitality for a decent breakfast a couple of times a week. Or three. Okay, four max.

But she was not going to be one of those people who had drunk the kool-aid and made odes to how wonderful Chick-fil-A was on You Tube. And then Mary Margaret had to go and introduce her to the sweet iced tea.

“You can’t re-locate to Georgia and not drink sweet tea,” she had argued with Emma while practically shoving the straw in her mouth.

“So what next, MM? I have to start monogramming my towels?”

But she had begrudgingly took a sip anyway, and there was no turning back. Then she discovered the lemonade, and the cookies and cream milk shake. Some days, she was hearing “It’s been a pleasure to serve you, Miss Emma” twice in twelve hours.

She was one “Eat Mor Chikin” cow from making a You Tube video while holding a Styrofoam cup with a red straw.

To make her obsession even more embarrassing, it led – albeit indirectly – to her being an actual- to-God secret admirer. Who left anonymous love notes. Seriously. What had she become?

Killian Jones, according to his name tag, was the owner-operator of Emma’s neighborhood Chick-fil-A. She had figured immediately that he wasn’t just a regular burger- er – chicken sandwich flipper because he was wearing slacks and a navy blue button down shirt – no tie. His chest hair must need plenty of breathing room because he always had at least the first five buttons of his shirt undone (not that she was counting or anything). The first morning they met, he hadn’t started out on the best foot, inadvertently insulting her food preferences.

When he handed Emma her food, Killian Jones had leaned over slightly to glance in her back seat, simultaneously handing her a coupon.

“We’re doing a special promotion today. Would your little one like a gift card for a free cone?”

His words sort of trailed off when he saw that the backseat was empty. Emma had barked out a wry laugh.

“Uh, there’s no kid back there. Sorry.”

“My apologies,” he muttered as he stood quickly, his face flaming and his hand lifting to rest behind his ear, “I just assumed. You ordered the chicken minis, and usually people get those for their kids . . . “

Normally, Emma would have been insulted, but he seemed so genuinely embarrassed, that she simply chuckled. “Well, I have been told that I have the appetite of a twelve year old.”

The smile that he gave her was lopsided and almost sinful. He arched a very expressive brow, and leaned towards her open window with a conspiratorial whisper. “I must admit, I rather fancy them myself. I mean, they’re chicken nuggets in little biscuits. What’s not to love?”

“I know, right? It’s revolutionary.”

They gazed at one another way longer than necessary, threatening to bring imbalance to the well-oiled drive thru machine. Killian blinked, as if suddenly remembering where he was, awkwardly cleared his throat, and then handed Emma her coffee.

“It’s been a pleasure to serve you. God bless.”

In a slight daze, Emma took the coffee, noting the brush of his fingers against hers like she was some fifteen year old with a crush. It wasn’t until she was driving away that his accent registered with hers. Instead of a southern drawl, it had been a lilting Irish accent.

Intriguing.

********************************************************

Later that day, Emma’s hand literally shook as she took the Styrofoam cup of lemonade from the drive thru. For a brief moment, she considered chickening out – pun completely intended – but then shook off her fear and resolutely snatched the envelope from the passenger seat of her Bug.

“Could you give this to your owner-operator?”

“Okay,” the girl server said with a smile and a nod as she took the note, “we always like to hear how we can better serve our customers. Is there anything I can do to make your experience here better?”

“Oh,no!” Emma said quickly, making a quick slashing motion with her hand. “It isn’t a complaint. Quite the opposite actually. Just . . . “ she nervously bit her lower lip, “don’t tell him my name or . . . anything. Okay?”

The girl gave a slightly different smile this time as she pocketed the note. “Sure thing, ma’am.”

Emma couldn’t tell if the smile was just relief or a kind of knowing. Maybe the girl thought it was Emma giving her boss her phone number. Maybe women were frequently passing notes to Killian Jones. She wouldn’t be surprised. Emma’s face flamed red as she drove away.

It wasn’t like it was that kind of note. All it said was, “You made a hectic morning bearable. Thank you.” For a company that emphasized customer service so much, it was really just a thumbs up for a job well done. Like a positive review on Amazon. Nothing more.

********************************************************

Killian Jones was there again when Emma stopped to get a quick breakfast. This time, he arched a knowing brow when her yellow Bug pulled up to the curb.

“Ah, Miss Emma Swan once again. Your chicken minis, m’lady, and I must say, a fine dining choice for a woman of mature tastes.”

He gave a mock bow as he passed the bag through the window, and Emma was mortified when a giggle made its way past her lips. He waggled his eyebrows at her, to which she rolled her eyes. Yet, he had remembered her.

She cleared her throat as she took the bag, and then asked him, “I was wondering about the accent. Isn’t it the wrong one?”

At first, he furrowed his brow. “The wrong one . . . oh! You mean, as in, why don’t I go around saying mornin’ ma’am, or ya’ll have a good day now?”

Emma giggled again at his horrible impression of a Southern accent and shook her head. “Yeah, that’s what I mean. Your accent is . . . Irish?”

“Aye. And if you’re wondering how I ended up in Atlanta, well, the short version is I came across the pond as a kid.”

Emma nodded. It was about all she was going to get. She was sitting in a drive thru with at least half a dozen other cars behind her. So she simply nodded, tilted her head in a way that was only slightly flirtatious and said, “I like it.”

*****************************************************

The rest of the day sucked, to put it bluntly. The scumbag she was staking out took hours to show up, she twisted her ankle chasing him down, and she never did get to eat lunch. So today was a cookies and cream milkshake type of day.

And today the note she asked the girl at the drive thru to pass along to Killian Jones said, “I’m glad you moved here. It’s a long way from Ireland, but . . . welcome home – I hope.”

******************************************************

“Is that required?”

On this particular morning, it was pretty cold outside, and Killian had kept his banter at a minimum as he handed Emma her order. So maybe she was grasping at straws for a little interaction. Or maybe it was a legitimate question.

“Is what required?” he asked, both eyebrows jumping slightly.

“God bless,” Emma clarified, “everyone here says it. Is it company policy or something?”

Killian shrugged, “Sort of. I mean, not officially. You can’t make someone use religious language, of course. But we’re encouraged to if it’s something we believe in.” He pulled the collection of necklaces he always wore around his neck free from his pea coat and scarf. He grasped a pendant shaped like a cross and waved it at Emma. “And I’m a good Irish Catholic boy.”

The smile he gave her belied his words, especially when his tongue darted out to swipe at his bottom lip. Emma cocked her head to the side and gave him a teasing smile.

“Not so sure you’re always a good boy.”

He leaned down, lowering his voice to a timbre that did something to Emma’s insides. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Emma rolled her eyes as he leaned back with a triumphant grin. Then his features became suddenly sincere.

“However, Swan, I do wish you every blessing. I mean that.”

**************************************************

The cold weather made it a “second cup of coffee in the afternoon” sort of day. But she had brought in a skip so easily she could have done it blind-folded, her little nephew Leo stopped by her office with a picture he drew of the two of them in preschool, and Mary Margaret insisted she come over that night for David’s famous chili.

And Killian Jones wished her every blessing.

On today’s note, Emma wrote, “You make me smile. That’s rare. Thank you. (Or should I say, God bless?)”

She had hesitated including that last line. After all, she didn’t want to give herself away. But was there any harm in dropping a hint or two? She shook her head, sealed the envelope, and passed it off to the girl who received all of her notes for Killian. Emma now knew her name – Holly.

And did Holly just wink when she took her note?

*************************************************

“Lovely as always, Miss Swan.”

Killian’s hand lingered as he passed Emma her coffee. She blinked and opened her mouth to say something, and –

Jumped a foot in the air when the SUV behind her honked. She and Killian both laughed, and he shuffled backwards, his face turning red. His smile was a broad one that dimpled both cheeks and crinkled the corners of his eyes.

That day, Emma’s note read, “I find myself looking forward to your smiles. You’ve got a great one, but you’ve probably heard that before. Anyway, just wanted to let you know it always brightens my day.”

**************************************************

Today it was raining, and yet the employees of Chick-fil-A were still there, bravely traversing the drive-thru line in ponchos, their i-Pads encased in water proof plastic. Killian stood huddled beneath the awning at the service door, in a thick navy blue raincoat. Raindrops had gathered on his eyelashes, making the blue of his eyes sparkle in the gray misty haze of the Georgia rain.

“Wow,” Emma quipped when he handed her the to-go bag, “this is dedication. And still telling me, it’s a pleasure to serve you.”

His eyes seemed to light up even more as he smiled at her. “For you, Swan, it is more than a pleasure.”

That day, her note read, “Your blue eyes make a rainy day a little brighter.”

It was the most blatantly flirtatious note she had left, but she no longer cared.

************************************************

“Your accent is the wrong one too, you know.”

Emma smiled broadly as she leaned against the open window of her Bug. Killian made no move to give her her food, swinging the bag idly in his hand. She shrugged.

“Yeah, I moved around a lot growing up. Minnesota. Portland. I moved here a few months ago. I had been living in Tallahassee, but my foster sister wanted me here to be close to family. There’s way more work here in bail bonds anyway.”

Killian nodded as he handed her the bag of chicken minis and her coffee. “Well, Swan, welcome home . . . I hope.”

He winked before turning his back to receive the next order. Emma’s jaw dropped, but she had the sense to ease out of the line and onto the highway.

Did he know? To test it out, her note to him that day read, “I’ve never really felt at home anywhere. This is getting close. You’ve helped make it feel that way.”

**************************************************

Emma was only half listening to Mary Margaret as she set the table in her and David’s eat-in kitchen. Their house was small, but quaint, and was in a great neighborhood. They had been willing to buy a smaller house rather than keep renting in the apartment complex, knowing the back yard and park down the street were better for Leo. It worked out for Emma too, as she spent way more time here than in her lonely one bedroom apartment.

Mary Margaret was lecturing Emma about something – probably about how she ought to be more social – but Emma’s mind was on Killian Jones. Had he gotten her latest note yet? Would he figure out who she was? If so, would he think she was a total stalker?

“ . . . so since you keep giving me excuses, I just decided to ask Killian over for dinner tonight.”

The name tore Emma immediately from her daydreaming. “I’m sorry? What did you say?”

Mary Margaret shook her head at Emma. “I said set one more place because I invited that guy I told you about over for dinner.”

Emma set down the stack of forks she had been laying at each place and waved both hands back and forth. “Whoa, whoa, wait a minute. You said his name was, what?”

Mary Margaret had been going on and on about her and David’s former neighbor at the apartments and how he would be perfect for Emma. But surely that couldn’t be the same Killian as her drive-thru Killian. Could it? Okay, so Killian wasn’t exactly a common name . . .

“Killian Jones,” Mary Margaret answered with an exasperated sigh.

Emma shook her head rapidly. “Killian Jones? What . . . what does he do for a living?”

Mary Margaret grabbed the forks Emma had abandoned. “He’s the owner-operator of the Chick-fil-A near here. I was going to introduce you the day you went with me and Leo, but Killian was at some training thing at corporate.”

Emma grabbed the back of a chair as the room started to spin. Crap. She had to go and open herself up in that damn note today. And Mary Margaret just had to invite him over for dinner, tonight of all nights.

This was going to be interesting.

*****************************************************

Killian was just as surprised as she was when he arrived at the Nolans. Apparently, Mary Margaret had gushed on about her “sister,” but had failed to mention a name. They told Mary Margaret and David about their interactions in the drive thru, and everyone had a good laugh about it. What a small world! How ironic! That sort of thing. Killian seemed no different than normal. Maybe he hadn’t gotten the note yet?

Emma, on the other hand, was wound tight. Maybe things had been more comfortable between them when there was a car door and a time restraint. Or maybe it was all those stupid notes hanging over Emma’s head. Whatever it was, it made Emma’s face feel like it was stuck in a perpetual blush. She couldn’t think of a damn thing to say, and Mary Margaret and David were not-so-subtly trying to play matchmaker as they attempted to steer the conversation Emma’s way. But all she could do was give one word answers and stare at her plate.

“Well,” Killian said with a satisfied sigh, “I can’t tell you Mary Margaret how delicious this was. Working at a restaurant all day, the last thing I feel like doing when I get home is cook. This was amazing, really.”

Mary Margaret beamed at his compliment. “Well, we are pleased to have you. You should come over more often. We miss you. Right, David?”

“Yeah,” David chuckled, shoving Killian’s shoulder, “I’ve got no one to watch hockey games with anymore. It’s not really a popular sport around here.”

“The notes were from me,” Emma blurted out.

Everyone immediately fell silent at Emma’s completely out of context outburst. Except for Leo, who ran his fork across his plate with a loud screech and demanded to know what was for dessert.

Emma lifted her gaze from her lap to meet Killian’s. “The notes that kept arriving at Chick-fil-A in the afternoons? They were all from me.” She let out a long, shaky breath.

“I know,” was all Killian said in response.

Emma’s eyes widened. “I – I thought you might. When did you figure it out?”

He chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I suspected, or hoped, it was you from the start. You see, every note corresponded with our morning interactions. But of course, today confirmed it. I was testing you by quoting one of your notes, and then when the note this afternoon was about home . . . “

He trailed off, a grin splitting his face.

“You hoped it was me from the start?”

He nodded, and Emma just sat there grinning right back at him like a fool. Mary Margaret hurriedly jumped from the table, scooping up Leo.

“Hey!” the little boy protested. “What about dessert?”

“We’ll eat cookies in front of the TV,” Mary Margaret muttered in response, “David, now.”

Killian and Emma chuckled as their matchmakers hurried from the kitchen. Emma felt as nervous as she had been back in junior high when she went to her first school dance. Killian rose from his seat across from her and came to take the seat beside her. They both shifted their chairs to be a little closer.

“I felt something between us the moment I first saw you,” Killian said.

“You mean when you offered my non-existent kid a free ice cream cone?”

Killian chuckled and ducked his head. How a man could be so sexy, cocky, and bashful all at the same time was incredibly endearing. He lifted his eyes to meet hers, a silent question passing between them. Emma nodded imperceptibly as they both leaned towards one another. When Killian’s lips met hers, the contact was charged with an intense attraction she had never felt before.

Except when his fingers had brushed hers in the drive thru.

Those fingers now carded through her hair as she tilted her head to deepen the kiss. His lips were soft against hers, but his kisses were firm and passionate. His other hand came up to gently caress her face, his thumb tracing her jaw and coming to rest on her chin. Emma pulled back, giving him a shy smile, which he returned. Then they resumed kissing, their tongues entwined in a dance so perfect, it felt as if they had been molded to fit together. When they finally parted, they were breathing heavily. Emma rested her forehead against his and sighed in complete contentment.

“Emma,” he murmured. God, she loved the way he said her name!

“Yeah,” she mumbled back dreamily.

“It’s definitely been a pleasure to serve you.”

[rhetoricalrogue]

AU where Rook lives, is still a detective, and is still a liaison for the Agency.

Zoe is SUCH a daddy’s girl it isn’t funny

Rook went with her to buy her first junk motorcycle and they spent an entire summer fixing it up

Rook and Jim play classic Dad Rock at the Rusty Bucket every Saturday night. Harry is a part owner because Jim’s not ready to retire just yet. Sometimes Harry and Zoe join up with their dads on stage.

Zoe and Rebecca’s relationship is strained, but not outright horrible because Rook let her in on the whole Agency secret thing when she was a kid so she knew why her mom had to go away on assignment all the time. The strain in their relationship is now just because they’re so alike that they butt heads ALL THE TIME.

Rook goes to every single event Zoe had as a kid. Front and center on the bleachers, the auditorium audience, everywhere. She never had to look for him because he was very visible and extremely proud of his girl. He cried when she walked the stage at graduation.

Zoe never went to college to become a journalist, therefore she never accidentally torched her professor’s car after he sided with Bobby for the whole cheating scandal. Instead, she worked to be a crisis counselor after spending a lifetime watching how her dad dealt with people and helped them after a home robbery or a vehicle accident or any other type of trauma. The day she joined the WPD to work alongside him was one of her favorite memories. It was always “Officer Dawson” and “Detective Dawson” from 9-5.

Father-Daughter rooftop conversations. He busts her for stress smoking, surprises her by bumming a cigarette off her and “damn, I haven’t had one of these in almost twenty years. This is an unhealthy coping mechanism, Zo. Gonna fuck up your lungs something awful if you keep this shit up.”

Looks like Jeffrey Dean Morgan

“Honey, I know you and your mother aren’t getting along well, but this is no reason to date somebody out of spite. You and that smarmy little weasel Bobby Marks? Sweetpea, no. Don’t make me play nice with that little fucker, he makes me want to wash my hands after just talking with him.”

There is a swear jar in the Dawson household that gets filled on a regular basis. When it does, Rook takes Zoe and Harry out for Fucking Ice Cream.

“So, you and your ma’s co-worker, huh? No, listen, you’re an adult and can make your own decisions, I’m not getting on your case about that. All I’m saying is that this Mason guy better treat you right - oh for fuck’s sake, kiddo. Do NOT leer at me like that. I don’t want to ever hear details about your sex life, got it? - or else I’m not gonna be held responsible when I hit him with my car.”

Her favorite breakfasts as a kid were his tic-tac-toe waffles where he’d put blueberries and banana slices in the waffle indentations and then cross out a line in whipped cream or chocolate syrup. Another favorite were the egg sandwiches he would make for her to eat on the way to school. They were sort of a homemade hot pocket crescent roll or biscuit filled with sausage and scrambled eggs and maybe some sautéed veggies and hot sauce if he had time to be fancy. When he knows she’s having a rough day as an adult, he whips up a batch to surprise her.

Zoe has her own place, but Rook and Rebecca still have the two story house he’d bought when he was still single in the 80s. Zoe’s old room is still like she left it and Rook gave her an open invitation to use it whenever she felt like hanging out. “Door’s always open. Even if it isn’t, you’ve got keys,” he always tells her. “And should you ever misplace them, I know you know how to pick locks and find your way back inside.”

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #426

“insatiable furnace, burning up our surplus  /  watching all essential life become another servant”

Are you a brunette? Yep. It is way past due time that I get it dyed... What is your favorite channel on TV? I don't really watch TV, but if I did, I'm pretty sure it'd probably be Discovery. Have you ever been to Chicago, IL? Yes!! It's my only experience with a truly BIG city, and though I'm not a city person, the experience was pretty magical. It was something I wasn't even remotely used to. Just so much life and business and energy to feel there. Who was your first friend? Brianna. She was the sister of my older sister's best friend. What is your favorite holiday? Christmas. :') Do you regret your last kiss? Nope. Have you ever taken a karate class? No. Who was the last person to tell you ‘I love you’? My mom. Have you ever been to the Statue of Liberty? No. Do you live on your own? Noooo. I don't think I ever could. I would have to stay VERY busy, or else the loneliness would kill me. Hell, even if I was very active in stuff, I still don't know if I could. With how bad my depression is capable of being, it doesn't sound smart at all for me to move out unless it was with somebody. Are your the oldest child? No, I'm the middle kid. How many X-rays have you had in the last 2 years? Two, maybe? One for my legs and the other for my teeth. Are you on good terms with your last ex? Yeah, we're best friends. Do you have scars you don’t like to talk about? Nah. Do you freak out if a bee/wasp flies near you? ... yes lol. What subjects in history interest you most? The Holocaust. It's just so... shocking and extreme that it's oddly fascinating, but of course horribly sad. Are you superstitious in any way? Nah. How do you get rid of anxiety? Do what? Are there any items of jewelry you never/rarely take off? Yeah, my two rings, my lip piercing, and tragus piercing. Has a song ever made you cry before? There are many. ^If so, what about it brought you to tears? Again, I said "many," so this would be a horribly long list. There are four though - "Eternally Yours" and "Another Life" by Motionless in White, "Stairway to Heaven" by Led Zeppelin, and "The Mortician's Daughter" by Black Veil Brides - that I really, really try to avoid, because I WILL cry. They're all associated with Jason for one reason or another. "Stairway to Heaven," especially, is absolutely forbidden for me to listen to. Would you consider yourself open-minded? Very, honestly. Have you ever met someone online that you wanted to meet in real life? I've met Sara! :') There are a handful of others I'd love to meet, too. Tell me about the last thing that made you laugh until it hurt. Wow, I have no idea. I don't remember the last time I laughed THAT hard. When you graduate, what color will your gown be? Ugh, it was this insufferable red. We got to vote on it, and I really wanted navy instead, as it looks more formal and not as obnoxious to me, but red won. Do you own a gun? No. My household legally can't because of my suicidal history. What color of shirt are you wearing? It's a black tank top. Do you use any acne medication? Nah, I don't really get acne anymore. Are you emotional or very stoic? I'm emotional as shit. Have you ever watched an anime series, start to finish? A few. There's Fullmetal Alchemist (as well as the Brotherhood expansion), Deadman Wonderland, and Ginga Densetsu Weed. I've seen bits of others. Which baby animal is your favorite? MEERKATS!!!!!! :') Once they reach three/four weeks, they're fucking precious. I also really like kittens. Do you like jam on your toast and biscuits? Sometimes. Have you ever reread a book? It is very, VERY rare I do this. The only cases I remember are for Because of Winn-Dixie and Meerkat Manor: Flower of the Kalahari. Do you have any religious symbols in your home? I think Mom has some religious quotes on the walls? What religion do you identify with, if any? None. What is you favorite flavor of pudding and/or yogurt? I love chocolate pudding, but I'm not very big on yogurt because of the sourness. I can sometimes eat a cookies 'n cream one, but occasionally I'm like "ew." We’re going to the best amusement park ever, first ride you choose is? One of those water rides where you go down a big slope. Did you have intense night terrors as a child? No. Know anybody who works in a tattoo parlor? No. That'd be dope. Have you ever had a piercing get infected? Ugh, yes. Worst was the first time I got my tongue pierced. It was early into infection though, thank God; I ended up having to take it out and get it re-pierced later. Have you ever shoplifted? No. Do you hate when people say, "Everything’s going to be fine,“ when it’s not? Sometimes. It can feel kinda dismissive of your extreme situation, and sometimes, things simply won't be okay. Like, you can't tell that to someone on their death bed. Do you check your fire alarms when you’re supposed to? No, oops. Are you a shorts-wearing kind of person? Absolutely not. Nobody wants to see my legs, not even me. Is your grandparents’ house obsessively tidy? My grandma's sure as hell was. She was very old-fashioned and "proper" and took cleanliness and manners very seriously. Do you know how to jumpstart a car? Nope. Would you date someone 8 years older than you? Probably. What did you do today? I WENT TO THE GYM AND DID A FULL HOUR OF EXERCISE!!!!! :') For once I am SO fucking proud of myself. I left drenched in sweat, but I also left with a feeling of great accomplishment. I'm going to be going twice a week now with a personal trainer. (: Who was the last person you fell asleep with? Sara. Have you ever punched a hole in the wall? No. People doing that shit terrifies me. Have you ever felt replaced? Sure have. Have you ever kissed someone who was high? No. If you caught your significant other cheating on you what would you do? I don't have a partner, but hypothetically, leave their ass in a blink. I don't fuck with those kind of people. Do you know who Jeffree Star is? Well, yes. I watch him on YT sometimes and (astonishingly) love his music, and I find his work ethic extremely inspiring. That man knows how to hustle. What’s your favourite alcoholic beverage? Probably sangrias. When was the last time you saw a photo of your ex? "The" ex, it's been years. I've removed all pictures I have of him, irl and digitally, because it's triggering for me. How many push-ups can you do? Probably zero. Do you play any games on your phone? There's Pokemon GO, DragonVale, and Dragons of Atlantis that I play semi-regularly. Have you ever received a compliment from a stranger? Yes. Have you ever shaved your face? Just my upper lip to avoid the lady stache, ha ha. What colour is your front door? It’s white. Do you take the stairs or the elevator? If an elevator is available, I will ALWAYS use that. I have an extreeeemely hard time getting up stairs because of having just about no leg muscle. Do you get motion sickness? No. When was the last time you went to your favourite restaurant? Oh man, it's been forever. :/ Olive Garden sounds soooo good right now. Do either of your parents have any tattoos or piercings? No. Well, Mom has her earlobes pierced once, but that's it. Are you desperate for anyone’s approval, in particular? It's funny, even though he hasn't been a part of my life for years, I still desperately crave what I think would make Jason proud. There have been many times where my mind has wondered to what he would think of me now... and I know it's not good. Are there any activities you enjoy doing, but can only do for a short amount of time before you get bored or tired of them? Reading. When was the last time you felt hopeful, and why? Today, after finishing my workout at the gym. I think, finally, that I may be taking another stride forward in life. Do you find yourself asking for the same things for your birthdays and for holidays? Ha, yup: a new tattoo, 100%. What is something someone recommended to you that you disliked/hated? Girt's recommended some music to me before. He loves sharing songs he likes with me. Of course I didn't tell him it sucked, ha ha. What’s a fact about the last person you kissed? She is very passionate about animals, reptiles in particular, and is simply amazing with them. If you had a child, would you rather have a girl or a boy? A girl for sure. Has anybody ever accused you of doing drugs? No. Have you ever fallen asleep with the last person you kissed? Yeah. Honestly, do you think that you will wanna settle down in the same town you’re currently residing in? HELL no. I hate this place. Does anyone call you darling? If so who? Sara does sometimes. Are you close to any of your cousins? No. Are you a romantic person? I think I am. What’s the coolest thing you’ve seen out the window of an airplane? Mountains. Have you ever been in the mountains when the moon and stars were up? NO BUT FUCK I WANT THAT. Just lay in a grassy spot with some s'mores or something and just ~vibe~. Do people like your hair? I get complimented on it a bit. Have you ever held birdseed and a bird came and ate out of your hand? Yeah, at a bird sanctuary. Could you ever live in Alaska? Hell yeah, I'd enjoy that. On the main page on YouTube, what’re the three recommended videos? There's one by a WoW gold maker, a song by 3TEETH, and a video of bullsnakes hatching. Do you really care how many friends you or anyone else has on Myspace/Facebook? Couldn't care less. I only "friend" people I know and care about. Does your significant other have any piercings? I'm single. Do you ever get bored of yourself? Oh, all the time. I feel like I'm extremely dull and plain and, well, boring. How many band shirts do you own? Which? Oh goodness, I have no idea. I own a lot. Do you go to shows mostly for the music, the moshing, or the merchandise? I go for the music. It's nice to buy merch, but it's SO expensive that it's dumb. Moshing, I think is just stupid. Have you ever had anything pierced that you don’t have now? Many places, actually. So many holes closed because piercings had to be taken out when I was in the psych hospital. I was so annoyed. Who were you with the first time you watched the last movie you watched? I was alone. Do you have any twins/multiples in your family? Are they identical or fraternal? No. What is the highest number of jobs you’ve had at one time? One. Is your mom a good mom? She is the actual best. Last thing you threw in the garbage? The crust of some leftover pizza I had this morning. I generally eat the crust, but this time it was WAY too hard.

[jaehyunspeachparty]

A little trip with friends

Jaehyun on “The Return of the Superman”

Oh look, there are Miga and Sunoh. It seems like they are going somewhere, but where should the trip go?

"Do you know who's coming today Miga?" Jaehyun looked briefly in the rearview mirror to check on his daughter. Miga tapped her lips and considered. "Mark?" She asked, grinning broadly. "No no no." Jaehyun quickly shook his head. Miga had had a crush on Mark for far too long, he didn't like that at all. "Chichi?" She laughed again. Over time, Chichi has become a little replacement sister for Miga, whom she always loves to take care of her. "Yes exactly! Yuta comes with Chichi. And who else?" "Hmmm ... Jaina?" Miga giggled again and Sunoh started laughing too, moving his hands up and down. "Yeah. Johnny is coming with Jaina."

Ahhhh all NCT fathers gather today. Miga seems to know them well, but they're all more Sunoh's age, aren't they?

When Jaehyun arrived he saw Johnny coming with Yuta. They transported all the children out of the cars and were able to start the excursion. But where did it go? "Yesssss! We're going to the zoo! We're going to the zoo!" Miga started hopping and singing when she recognized the place. Sunoh looked at his sister in confusion, as if she was crazy, then looked up at his father, who ignored it because he still had to get the bag out of the car, and then looked Sunoh at his sister again. Miga now ran to the other little girls, hugged them and gave them kisses.

Ohhh, look how cute Miga is. She is really loving with the other children. She is not only a big sister to Sunoh, but also to Chichi and Jaina.

"Sunoh! We're going to the zoo. We see elephants, seals, and monkeys." She ran back to her brother and jumped excitedly around him. Sunoh also started to laugh and then jumped on the spot as well. "Okay, come on. Let's go inside." Jaehyun said, lifting his son up. The whole Daddy Squad went also to the entrance and paid the entrance fee. "Johnny?" Miga now clung to him and smiled enthusiastically. "Yes?" He looked down at the girl and laughed. "What is your favorite animal?" "Hmmm, maybe the elephant?" Meanwhile, Johnny dropped his daughter off so that she could walk around now much more. "And Jainas?" Asked Miga further. "Oh she likes horses very much." He looked over at his daughter who was starting to run. She just ran somewhere and Johnny had to follow her so she wouldn't get lost.

Ahh Jaina has a lot of energy. For her one and a half years, she has been running pretty fast.

The whole squad walks through the zoo together. They look at the different enclosures and the children have a lot of fun. When they were at the giraffes, Miga noticed something special. "Daddy, why does the giraffe have such a big belly?" Miga climbed up a little so that she could see more. Jaehyun stood behind her with Sunoh on his shoulders and held her. "Because there's a baby in there." He smiled and looked at the giraffe as well. "Mummy," Sunoh called and started to smile. "Yes, Mummy has you and Miga also in her belly too." Except of your friends, you and Jaehyun had never told anyone that you were pregnant. Nobody, also the recording team, knows about it, and through the experience of the past few years, you want to keep the pregnancy secret from the public for as long as possible. "Silly Daddy, Sunoh said Mummy has..." "Hey Miga, I still have cookies in my pocket. Don't you like some?" Jaehyun cut her off shortly before she is chatting too much. Miga could be distracted very easily with cookies anyway. "But share it with the others." Jaehyun turned to her and saw Miga bite the first biscuit with joy. After devouring it, she went to Jaina and Chichi and also gave them a cookie. The two girls were happy and ate their cookies straight away.

The next stop was a small petting zoo. It was the most exciting thing for the children because there were rabbits, chickens, a few goats. But Chichi was a little afraid, especially of the goats. She was very careful and hid behind Sunoh, who was the first to went into it.

Ohhh how sweet. Chichi fully trust Sunoh. And now she takes his hand, how lovingly.

Chichi and Sunoh went hand in hand, but Yuta didn't like it at all. "When should I send out the wedding invitations?" Jaehyun teased his friend while he was already pulling out his cell phone and taking a picture of it. But Yuta looked at his daughter in shock and ran after her to take her. He picked her up and hugged her tightly. "No, you remain my little girl." He stroked her black hair and she looked at him in amazement with her big dark eyes. "Someone will have a father complex in the future." Johnny laughed and looked at Yuta. "And Miga and Sunoh? They will get a father or mother complex later," hissed Yuta and turned to Jaehyun. "What? Unlike you, I don't freak out when Miga interacts with a boy her age. I save that for her puberty." Jaehyun winked and looked at his daughter. He could understand Yuta, he didn't like how Miga is adoring Mark all the time. But he didn't have to admit that to his friend.

Oh, fathers never have it easy with daughters. They are constantly afraid that they will be hurt one day.

Suddenly everyone heard a loud scream from the chickens and everyone saw Jaina chasing them all. "Jaina. Leave the chickens alone." Johnny was pretty exhausted, it seemed like his daughter never got tired. He ran after her, which she found even funnier. She started to laugh and ran even faster. "When did you get so fast?" Johnny sighed and then managed to snatch his girl. "If my son is like that, then I don't need to go to the fitness center anymore." Johnny was out of breath when he lifted Jaina up. But she laughed all the time and clung to her father. Meanwhile, Miga was sitting by a goat, which she strokes her fur gently. Jaehyun was sitting on the bench where Sunoh came and climbed up to his lap. "Daddy, I'm tired." He rubbed his eyes and sighed. Jaehyun looked at him and could see that he was really done. Most of the time he cried for his mother when he was tired, but he didn't even have the strength to do that. Apparently, the whole day was so exciting for him, so he was really exhausted. Jaehyun put Sunoh on his chest and the little boy put his head on his shoulder and slowly closed his eyes. Chichi started yawning too, but she try to stand on her little legs. It almost looked like she didn't want to fall asleep. "I think we should start walking home slowly," said Yuta, lifting his daughter over his shoulder as well. "Fine, I'll call Miga and then we'll go." Jaehyun was really happy about the day. He really enjoyed taking such an excursion with Yuta and Johnny.

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