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get-shiggy-with-it · 3 years

Text

Book Drop Boy (Twice x Reader)

✧ pairing: library student worker!Twice x afab!student!Reader

✧ word count: 9.9k

✧ ao3 mirror

✧ warnings: college au/no quirks, maladaptive daydreaming (twice), twice is chaotic af, commits library related crimes, use of the term sweetheart a few times, smut, vaginal fingering/sex, doggy style, afab terms, no pronouns for reader, gratuitous swearing this is potentially the softest thing I've ever written, like she's pretty tame idk what Twice does to me

✧ summary: In which Twice learns that sometimes dreams do come true, except those dreams are just the maladaptive fantasies of a broke library receptionist and, while sexy, also involve more fraud than he expected.

✧ a/n: Hey y'all, this is set in the same universe as my shiggy college piece, but you don't need to have read that. There are some fun little easter eggs though if you have tho. This is like the most tame thing I've ever written and it's way longer than it was meant to be but oh well. Anyway, Twice deserves some love. Enjoy <3

Logically, Jin was aware you probably had no idea who the fuck he was.

But that really didn’t have any effect on the wildly intricate fantasy life he had created for the two of you during his long shifts behind the library reception desk. That, in fact, was the only reason he hadn’t up and quit just to save himself the embarrassment of another loud outburst in the middle of the most silent place on campus.

What was truly more shocking was the fact that none of those said outburst had gotten his ass kicked straight out the door.

But he held out.

If only for you.

Late nights or lazy afternoons you were always in the campus library—studying he assumed or…

'Studying,' because a lot of the time he noticed you’d show up with a drink from the cafe a few blocks down, set out a line of colored pens and not touch a single one of them for hours, content to stare blankly at the chipped desktop. And even that Jin was more than happy to watch.

He did a lot of watching.

Mostly because he wasn’t permitted to leave the desk unattended unless there were piling up returned books which needed to be replaced quickly.

So instead, he pretended to be busy scrolling through something on his old as hell monitor—which was conveniently set up directly across from the comfy chair/desk combo you always managed to grab—and he indulged in day dreams where you’d bring him a coffee from the cafe when you came in and set it on his desk, maybe kiss him on the cheek, maybe loiter by his workstation and play with his hair and—

Yeah.

It was a lot.

But you were always in that chair, always working or pretending to work and you never seemed to notice the uninterrupted hours of staring Jin did, so what was the harm?

If you never knew, you’d never get creeped out—cause it was creepy, he knew that, oh fuckin' boy did he know it was real goddamn weird.

He just couldn’t seem to give it up. Especially when the conditions presented perfectly for some good uninterrupted, totally not stalker-y at all, fantasizing.

Sometimes he thought you might have some mundane superpower that let you always snatch that perfect seat right across from his computer, and made it so the library was just cool enough that he’d get to watch you shrug on that cute extra sweatshirt you always brought. So he could catch a glimpse of some skin—in a totally normal and not invasive way—when your arms went over your head. So he could imagine it was his ratty old sweaters you were wearing just so you could smell him on you and god he really wanted to get close enough to smell you—was that too weird? No. Yes? No.

Not at all.

But the best part, the part that really convinced him on those awful days when he really just could not be bothered to drag himself out of bed and walk the couple blocks to campus just to sit in awful silence alone, in his head alone with the fucking thoughts that made him want to rip his hair out—

What made it worth it was those times every few weeks when your classes would get new assigned readings. Because then you’d have to check out new textbooks, since you were one of those geniuses that had figured out the library kept a ton of those books in stock. Of course you were, cause you were fucking perfect.

And when you had to check out new books, you had to come to reception.

Jin got to watch as your lovely figure moved through the stacks like you were ballroom dancing along the halls of faded, sea-green shelves, almost floating over the linoleum trying to find just the right volume in the right addition before anyone else beat you to it.

It was one of the most gorgeous things he’d ever seen.

Spinner would call him a fucking simp if he ever dared to uttered any of that out loud, but it didn’t matter.

If it was you, he’d simp for fucking life.

And then, you’d walk that fucking glorious ass over to his desk and plop the books down, smiling—cause you were polite like that, so fucking perfect he couldn’t hardly believe it sometimes—and asking how his day was while he checked you out in every sense of the phrase.

In a completely platonic and not freaky way.

So Jin kept coming to work, to that god awful job he really hated and which hated him just as vehemently. He clocked in every day and waited patiently like a fucking puppy counting the hours till its workaholic owner arrived home, ears perking up when you walked through the door and flashed your ID to the attendant.

If only for that.

He’d put up with his boss’ complaints and the weird stares he got when the thoughts just wouldn’t stay in his head anymore and he had to start talking to himself to fill the silence.

If only for that.

Those few hours when he could lose himself in the fake inner life where you were waiting for him when his shift let out, waiting to gather him, tired and understimulated, into your arms. Where you’d sneak into the back room with him just to chat and lace your fingers with his and maybe sit that fucking wonderful ass up on the tables so he could stand in between your thighs and you’d pull him down to—

Yeah.

That was enough.

***

It wasn’t until Tuesday when he had to come in again that week, and he already knew it was gonna suck balls.

Friday he’d gotten another round of complaints from some stuck up fucking business students—it was always the fucking business majors with those silver spoons so far up their asses—snitching to his boss that he’s been ‘disruptive’ and ‘disturbing’ during his last shift.

“Not my fucking fault,” he muttered under his breath, kicking a rock along the side walk he’d picked up two blocks before. “Yes it is. No it’s not!”

Jin groaned and tugged at his hair, wishing he’d brought a Tylenol or something to curb the headache that was already sticking it’s ugly ass claws into his temples. He really, really heavily contemplated just ditching, calling in sick or some shit. Technically he was a student worker, so they had to work with his DRS accommodation and he was actually having a bad fucking time.

But one of his friends had already texted to ask if he’d try and reserve them that sweet ass study room on the third floor and Jin wasn’t really looking to disappoint anyone else this week. Besides, it was fun to abuse his minuscule power. Fun to go corrupt for once. Fight the system and all that.

He liked to think you’d be proud of him for it, based on the kinds of texts you checked out at least.

So, he dragged his sad ass back to the looming library looking far too much like a prison than was necessary and clocked in. Actually, the first thing he did was check the chair—your chair and nobody else’s chair, he might actually make a fucking scene if somebody ever did steal it—and his face visibly fell when you were not occupying it.

It was a bit early, Jin supposed as he paused briefly when he noticed the can of Monster and rando vending machine chips sitting next to it by the reception computer. The sticky note slapped to the top read 'For your troubles' in familiar handwriting and that pulled a bit of a smile from him as he quickly rearranged the scheduling of study room sign ups so the fancy third floor room would be free for the rest of the night.

Then Jin sat, staring at the study room schedules for a moment, feeling his eyes softly glaze over until a hand slapped down on the raised lip of the reception desk.

“Hey bro,” Spinner greeted him with a wild smile and a flurry of bright pink hair.

Jin had to blink a few extra times to get his vision to clear. When it did he saw, horrifyingly, that he’d been staring at the fucking blank screen for two hours without moving.

Why was it that his head was either deadly quiet, devoid of even a single errant thought or so loud as fucking shit at all times that he couldn’t physically keep the thoughts in?

“Hey, dude, what’s up?” Jin asked, running a hand through his unruly hair.

“Aren’t you supposed to like shush me or something?”

Spinner chuckled a bit at his own god awful joke and Jin couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed, too glad for the company.

“I mean,” he shrugged, popping the can of Monster and ignoring the dirty looks he got for the sound. “I would if I was, uh, good at my job.”

“Which I’ve heard you definitely are not,” Spinner wrapped his fingers over the lip of the desk and leaned back on his heels, swaying side to side idly.

“You’re just figuring that out now?”

Jin didn’t bother watching while Spinner nearly tripped over himself fidgeting as he spun to stand at the little gate that corralled Jin inside like livestock. He was too busy glancing over to check you hadn’t slipped in while his brain had taken a trip to the astral plane without him.

“No, I been knew, but my sources tell me you’ve gone off the rails my friend,” long legs stepped over the wooden partition until the only friend he had who was quite possibly more annoying than Jin himself was sat on the counter next to his computer. “Finally been radicalized have you?”

Jin huffed and sipped his Monster, “Guess it fuckin’ took me long enough.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Spinner was messing about with the stacks of multicolored sticky notes littered across the desk before glancing up to wink at Jin. “So what can I get you to do for me in exchange for free food?”

“Now I really am gonna fucking shush you,” Jin smashed his finger against Spinners grin only to get a hand covered in spit for his trouble.

“Right, right,” Spinner held his hands up in defeat, “can’t have you cheating on your sweetheart.”

“Not my—yes I’m in a committed fictional relationship thank you very much—ugh!”

Jin could feel the heads shooting up from laptop screens and textbooks to stick daggers in his back with their angry stares. Spinner at least had the good sense to look a little fucking guilty for egging him on.

“Sorry bro, I had to shoot my shot ya know?” a hand disappeared into the mop of bubblegum locks in apology.

“It’s fine…” Jin trailed off, mumbling and blushing more than a little profusely as he turned to check the book drop box. “Not like I’m ever gonna fuckin’ shoot mine anyway.”

“Oh we are not gonna have that kinda of shit discussion,” Spinner’s hand shot out and grabbed him firmly by the shoulders, spinning Jin in his chair. “On god bro, we’re gonna get you a date one of these days.”

Jin didn’t dignify that kind of lie with a response.

Spinner once again, had the good sense to not push the envelope any farther.

“And in the meantime, you can come to the League meeting tonight!”

“Your gaming club thing?”

“Yeah, it’s Smash night and we need to fill a space sooooo…”

Jin knew Spinner and his roommate—the same friend who he’d gone study room rogue for—had started a gaming club their freshman year. Spinner had been trying to strong arm him into attending ever since. To, as he put it, ‘socialize,’ and ‘make new friends.’ All things which Jin was patently horrible at and avoided like the plague.

Needless to say, he’d refused every time.

It wasn’t just the whole being alone with like two people he kinda knew in a room full of strangers. Games themselves were just a lot for him. The flashing colors and the loud noises made his head—which was already so fucking full all the time and he really needed to keep any extra scrap of space for extra random facts he picked up about you and your future married life together—get a bit misaligned.

They just weren’t his jam most of the time.

“I’m good, thanks for the offer though,” Jin twisted out of Spinner’s grasp and craned his head to check your seat again.

Still empty.

He sighed.

Spinner continued to ramble and Jin continued to only half listen. It wasn’t as pleasant to day dream when you weren’t there for the added visual aesthetic. And he was trying to not be a dick and ignore the one friend he had managed to keep around over the years. But it was hard when his mind had a mind of its own.

Wow.

Meta.

“Jin?”

The voice—deep and dark in such a dramatically ominous way it might have been funny if it didn’t belong to his permanently disgruntled supervisor—interrupted his already derailing train of thought.

“Oh, uh, hello sir,” Jin stuttered, turning to find Kurogiri leaning against the reception desk with one arm, turning only slightly to accommodate Spinner’s form bolting over the gate and out the library doors.

He did manage to throw a fading, “See ya later, bro” over his shoulder before he disappeared around the corner.

Yeah thanks for the warning, bro.

“Aren’t you supposed to be reshelving the books from the drop box?” Kurogiri sighed, perpetually disappointed in a way that had Jin’s face burning and shame bubbling up in his throat.

He hated this job. He was objectively terrible at it, and so usually he wouldn’t give that much of a shit at not doing it well. Kurogiri just had some type of vibe—like daddy but not in the sexy way Spinner always joked about—that made it really, really upsetting to let him down.

Father figure? Yeah that's what it was called.

“Right, yeah um, sorry,” Jin nodded quickly and leapt from his chair, only mildly bruising his knee on the desk as he reached to empty the book drop.

Another incorporeal sigh was the only acknowledgement he received as he loaded the cart with wheels louder than Jin on a particularly bad day and rolled the pile of books back to the stacks. He paused once more, just before the sea green shelving units swallowed him up, to sneak another futile peak at your chair. But it still sat empty—empty and lonely with no you and cold without your body pressed against the worn upholstery.

Jin felt a chill too, a slow tingling thing that worked its way up from the base of his spine. It drove him deeper into the walls of books, away from the empty spaces.

It was harder to look.

Harder to be reminded of what he did not have.

Of what he’d never have cause he was too much of a goddamn pussy to ever just fucking talk to you—

But then what if he did? What if he did talk to you? What would happen then?

Those were the types of questions he tried to avoid when crafting your intricate, fictional lives together. Precisely because they were the easiest to answer.

You’d realize within the first five minutes or so of conversation—if Jin could even make it that far without embarrassing himself—that he was just a generic brand weirdo that all your pretty, normal, aesthetically pleasing friends would warn you to stay away from and because you were also pretty and normal and not a fucking idiot, you’d have the common sense to listen.

He’d lose you in the blink of an eye.

Your chair would sit cold and empty forever and the imaginary garden he’d been planting for you to come imaginarily home too would wilt and die like all the other happy thoughts in his head.

It was quite the conundrum and one Jin was not keen to solve soon.

Not that things ever really went his way. Cause problems could only be avoided for so long before all that time spent ignoring them came back to bite him full on the ass.

Which, apparently, came this time in the form of what had to be quiet, muffled sobbing drifting in between the shelves from the back hallway.

It was dark here in this section of the building—free of most windows so as not to cause any sunning damage to the books—and Jin had seen more than enough horror movies to know that it was a horrendous idea to follow the ominous crying sounds coming from the bowls of this old as fuck building. But even as he made up his mind to ignore it, the hand currently working one of the returns back into its proper place dropped the book to his cart as his feet slowly turned to face the corridor.

He looked around skeptically for a second, not entirely certain his poor brain hadn’t simply malfunctioned again, as it was wont to do, and fabricated the sound entirely. But as he peaked out from between the stacks, and down the dimly lit hall, he heard it again.

Echoey and soft in the wide, empty space it—was definitely coming from the hall and it was definitely a person.

Jin caught himself moving without ever meaning too, the books laying forgotten as he crept towards the source of the noise and paused just before leaving the stacks entirely. This hall was full of small alcoves built into the centuries old walls and led to the lesser used storage portions of the library that only the janitorial staff and the university librarians ever entered. He really didn’t want to stumble across someone from the special collections department bawling over a damaged or lost manuscript.

But his wayward feet pushed him forward, too sympathetic for his own good. He found himself shuffling down the abandoned hall, peering into each small dip in the walls to find the source of his distraction.

And when he did, Jin was—for once in his life—thankful for his lack of self-preservation instincts.

And cursed his blatant lack in interpersonal skills.

Because it was you.

You curled with your knees to your chest and your head in your hands, shoulders shaking, as you cried into your palms.

The universe had handed him maybe the only golden opportunity he would ever get on right on a platter.

But Jin didn’t have a fucking clue what do with it.

And there certainly wasn’t much time to formulate a game plan as his nervous breathing and sudden intake of breath upon discovering his imaginary lover sniffling right in front of him, had certainly alerted you to his presence.

Your head shot up in an instant, knocking dully against the stone wall with a thud.

“Shit,” you cursed and hands flying up to cover the area as Jin jumped on the spot at your outburst.

“Are you okay?” he asked lamely as you glanced over at him, eyes red and wet and so fucking sad oh fucking god, widening as you realized you’d been caught.

“Huh? Ye—oh uh, yes,” your words came out jumbled, legs unfolding quickly to push yourself off the bench and hands wiping furiously at your eyes. “I’m fine, sorry.”

“You sure about that?”

Jin cringed visibly and frowned at the way you deflated under his stare. God the first fucking time he actually talks to you and he already made an ass of himself.

Spinner’s roommate was such a liar, it really fucking sucked to be right sometimes.

“I mean,” you crumpled back down onto the ledge and Jin took a careful step closer, “no, but yes. Like I’m definitely having a breakdown in the back of the fucking library but I don’t wanna, uh, bother you with that. So, yeah I’m good.”

“You can bother me,” he replied way too fucking quickly.

But he couldn’t really be embarrassed about it. Your voice was just so captivating, and you weren’t talking to him in that raised pitch anymore like you usually did—the way everyone does when they’re trying to be surface level and polite. No this was your voice how you sounded when you were relaxing with your friends or making breakfast in the morning or talking to yourself in the shower (he liked to think you did that, or sang maybe as you worked the soap into your skin, one of the two but he always imagined you filled silences with how fucking pretty you were).

“No, really. That would be weird, right?”

Jin grimaced as you fixed him with a watery yet suspicious stare.

Yeah it was weird.

Everything he did concerning you was weird, objectively. He was definitely being over-familiar and too eager, especially considering you didn’t fucking know him.

But he knew you.

Jin felt like he’d known you for all months he’d spent pretending to be by your side.

And you were crying and he had to do something.

“I mean, yeah I guess,” he mumbled, taking a risk and plopped down on the opposite end of the alcove and resting his head on the wall. “But not any weirder than having a breakdown in the employees only section of the library building on a Tuesday.”

You kept staring blankly for a few moments before the most miraculous thing happened.

Jin had to physically stop his jaw from hitting the floor when the quiet giggle bubbled up from your chest and spilled out into the hall, warm enough to melt even the freezing linoleum floor.

“Yeah, you’ve got a point,” your voice cracked a bit as a few more tears slid like pearls down your cheeks.

“My name’s Jin,” he said, shocked stupid both by your laugh and the apparent success of his comforting methods.

“Oh, hi, well I guess I don’t have to call you book drop boy anymore,” you rubbed at your face again and tucked your legs back into your chest, though it looked a bit more relaxed this time.

Not so trying-desperately-to-fade-out-of-existence.

“You called me that?” Jin asked, brain still functioning at half capacity, only shocked at the fact that he existed as a concept in your head enough to have a name and realizing a bit too late how accusatory he must have sounded. “Shit, I mean it’s totally fine I just didn’t think you, uh, well I mean, like, knew about me I guess?”

You finally smiled and his brain power cut out another fourth at being personally graced by the expression this close up.

“Yeah, you always check me out—fuck sorry not that you check me out, just you scan my books and I just called you ‘book drop boy’ in my head cause I never got a chance to ask for your name but I have it now so that’s cool….”

Your head dropped back down to your knees as you groaned and Jin suddenly felt a lot less nervous than he had a few seconds ago.

You were weird too.

For so long you’d existed on this pedestal thousands of feet in the air, and now you were stepping down from the heavens and onto earth. Not in a bad way! Just, Jin had never really stopped to think that you might be a person too.

Well.

No, he knew you were a person, just he never thought you might get flustered and ramble and be nervous in front of him.

Cause he was a fucking train wreck—the bar was so goddamn low.

It was almost as comforting as your smile.

“Oh, yeah sorry I’m not the best at customer service if you couldn’t tell,” he sighed and ran a hand through his wild hair.

You looked back up with a wry grin, “I don’t know, I’d say you’re going above and beyond right now.”

And you were funny.

He was gonna fucking combust.

“Ha, yeah, I try,” he trailed off for a moment before glancing back at your curled in your corner, fuck he could just imagine sitting behind you, your head on his chest while you—”So uh, did you wanna talk about it or…?”

“Uh, yeah,” you picked idly at the grouting of the stone and mumbled, “I guess it’s not so weird if we’re on a first-name basis.

And that was how Jin discovered that you’d been hiding in the back of the library bawling your eyes out for hours—since even before his shift started. Apparently you’d gotten here extra early, even skipped a class, to snag some super specific required text for your final thesis and right before you got to the shelf some jackass swooped in, effectively hit and running with the only copy of that book on campus.

The book in questions was one of the newer additions that had special added footnotes you needed for your paper and was a whopping 500 fucking dollars to rent from every other place online. You couldn’t afford it, and honestly what fucking student could? But you needed it to complete the paper or you’d fail and Jin very much understood the need for a good breakdown after a catastrophe like that.

“Damn, that’s uh, fucking awful,” he frowned on your behalf as your head hit the wall a second time in frustration.

“Yeah so, I’m like royally fucked either way. Now I just gotta decide which hole I’m taking it in I guess,” you groaned.

Jin’s eyebrows raised at your choice of words but they were apt, he supposed. People really do get comfortable with each other pretty quick when bonding over shared institutional rage.

“Well,” he began, wringing his hands nervously at what he was about to suggest. “You might be in luck cause I’ve recently decided to abuse my library powers for good and I maybe, possibly, could try and see if there’s some strings I can pull?”

You perked up a bit, looking at him incredulously.

Jin felt comfortably full under your stare.

“Seriously?”

The word was soft and it bounced off the walls just as much as it did the inside of his skull.

Swapping study rooms to help a friend out was one thing. But falsifying checkout dates for someone he barely knew—had essentially married in his maladaptive fantasies—could get him fired.

He hated this job but he needed it.

Were you worth the risk?

Of course, he found himself thinking without hesitation.

You were everything.

“Yeah, sure,” he nodded, any lingering uncertainty washing away at the way you looked at him through your lashes. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it.”

“Are you always this nice?”

Jin didn’t answer right away. He was too caught up in how you’d leaned forward on your hands across the bench, peering like he was some exotic animal or a stray cat in the parking lot—all soft wonderment with fingers curling like they ached to grab hold and rescue him from this parchment scented monotony.

“Not always…”

“Should I feel special then?”

If his face wasn’t red before, it was now. Red and blistering under the summer campfire heat that radiated off you—woodsy and warm and so painfully familiar like an old friend’s hand.

“...I guess you—fucking definitely, ” he quite nearly shouted the last bit, startled by his own volume and already mortified at the outburst but then you chuckled again from beside him.

He turned to see you standing and offering a hand which he gladly too if only to feel the weight of your palm against his.

“Well, you’ll have to let me pay you back then.”

“Oh, no you don’t actually—”

You held a hand up and the words turned to ash on his tongue in an instant, mouth glued shut by your gesture.

“Coffee on me or something, there’s a nice cafe a few blocks from here,” you dropped your hand and your eyes were clear now, no sign of the previous afternoon sobbing alone in the hallway. Jin felt a surge in his chest knowing he was the one who did that. “You gotta pass off the contraband anyway, and I don’t think it would be that great of an idea to do it here.”

God you were fucking perfect.

“Can’t argue with that.”

***

Jin was sweating profusely as he snuck past the library attendant, totally inconspicuous and not not all looking like he was doing a single thing wrong in the slightest.

Yeah they definitely didn’t suspect a thing.

The process of fraud was actually a lot less complicated of an undertaking that Jin had expected. All he had to do was search up the book, find the student that had stolen the success of his sweetheart’s educational career and flag his account. They’d get an automated message about the flag, instructing them to return any borrowed items or they’d be forced to pay fines while the account was examined.

Technically he needed administrator credentials to report student accounts, but luckily Kurogiri had his login info written on a sticky note hidden on the back of the monitor. All in all it was a pretty easy job.

The whole thing had taken only a matter of days, in which time you had returned to the library only twice—the first to get confirmation on the success of Jin’s newest descent into low level crime which had set his heart thundering in his chest as you bent conspiratorially over his desk, your face just inches from his.

The second time, Jin had horrifically been absent from his desk, however he was met with possibly the most wonderful sight of his life upon returning from the labyrinth of shelves.

On one of the hundreds of post-it note pads that littered the library reception area, there were scribbles that he was sure hadn’t been there before. He almost tossed it, but upon closer inspection, you’d written your number there and signed just below it. In the cutest fucking handwriting he’d ever seen—cute not for any stylistic reason, but it simply felt that way just by virtue of it being yours—was written the digits and “-for book drop boy”

The noise he made reading that turned more than a dozen heads and almost got him fired there on the spot before any of his indiscretions were even discovered, but he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it.

So, nerve wrackingly, Jin texted you as he nearly sprinted home from his shift after that piece of shit asshole who made you cry had trudged angrily in and dropped off his ‘stolen’ book.

— HEY IT’S JIN!

— from the library

— shit sorry that wasn’t meant to be in caps

— n e way….

— I’ve intercepted the ~package~ so whenever you’re ready for the hand off, I’m good

Most perfect fucking human being to…

Oh my god thank you so much!!!—

Is tomorrow at like 5ish good for you?—

Also send me your order—

so we don’t have to do that awkward waiting in line for drinks bit—

Holy fuck you multi-texted too! Spinner would roll over in his fucking grave, he hated when Jin did that. But there was always so much to say and he could never think of it all at the same time. Plus, you wanted to save him from that god awful silence where you both stand in line next but he can’t talk cause he has keep repeating his order in his head over and over or he’ll blank when he gets to the register so it’s just this painful weird glancing back and forth—

Ugh, maybe all the shit about manifestation that girl who always loaned him exacto knives in his sculpting class always talked about was real.

Cause there was no way you weren’t just heaven-sent, handcrafted especially for him and all his general brand of weird.

The hours which usually flew by without Jin’s notice dragged all that night. He was so full of excess energy that made his hand shake and his thoughts race, not sure what to do with themselves now that they didn’t need to fantasize about you.

He decided to use all that extra motivation to vacuum the kitchen at 4:30 in the morning, much to his roommates' chagrin. She liked to get a nice solid eight hours every night and constantly reminded Jin of this, trying to sell him on that sleepy time tea before bed, though he really hated the smell of camomile.

Magne may lose out on some of her beauty sleep—not that she needed it and Jin would tell her that constantly, even if he did have some patently horrible judgment most of the time so he wasn’t really the best at offering reassurance—but the kitchen would be clean when she woke up so win-win really.

When she did wake up—wandering out of her room looking effortlessly put together in a way Jin could never hope to emulate—she sat at the table, sipping her tea and appraising him worriedly.

Jin was still in his jeans from the day before, hair spiking in every direction but down, and chewing his nails nervously despite losing most of them to the hour or two of early morning floor scrubbing.

“Babe,” she shook her head slowly, “take a breath.”

“Yeah okay,” he sighed and inhaled deeply, letting himself slide off the couch cushions and to the newly sparkling floors on the exhale.

“There, now wanna share what the hell is going on?”

He glanced up at her from the hardwood and groaned as she looked back down, brows furrowed over her glasses.

“Huhh, okay. So that absolute work of art from the library is meeting me for coffee later cause I have trade over this book I sort of stole, it’s a long story, and I don’t know if it’s a date—it sounds like a date, cause that’s where people go for dates and shit—but it might just be to pay me back for stealing the book. And if it is I’ve only ever been on that one date before which was with fucking Spinner like two years ago so—”

Magne held up a hand to quiet Jin before the speed of his words tied his tongue in physical knots. She looked contemplative, taking another soft sip of tea and nodding her head for a moment getting up to crouch on the floor by his head.

“You think too much for your own good, but never about the right things,” she mumbled, smoothing some of the hair from his face. “Does it really matter if this is a date or not?”

Jin blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” she chuckled in that way people do when kids ask them obvious questions—kindly, appreciative of the curiosity, “either way you cut it, you’ll be spending time with this person you like, yeah?”

“Mhm,” he hummed and sat up to face her as she stood.

“A date is just hanging out with a special name anyway,” Magne’s hands were firm but gentle as she hoisted Jin off the floor and onto his feet. “You’ll be fine.”

His shoulders slumped both in mild relief and dejection that he’d waisted so much precious time he could have been preparing possible topics of conversation or strategies to ask you out for real date on worrying over how this first time would go.

How did Magne always fucking know all this stuff?

Other people were such a mystery to him.

To be fair, though, Jin was a mystery to himself most of the time as well.

“Thanks, sorry for not saying anything about it earlier,” he sniffed as she smiled and pinched his cheek way fucking harder than necessary.

“It’s alright, I’m only a little insulted you waited until now to tell me about this massive crush you’ve developed.”

“Yeah it’s got its own gravitational pull at this point.”

Magne laughed at that and Jin felt the room lighten.

“I do expect details when you get back though,” she said pointedly, finishing her tea wandering back to her room to grab her bag. “Spinner asked me, very begrudgingly might I add, to fill in at another of his club tournament things tonight so I’ll be out late.”

“Really? I didn’t think you liked that stuff.”

Jin shuffled over to her doorway and peaked into the neat little space. Magne was rummaging through the meticulously organized closet and frowning as she answered.

“I do, Spinner just doesn’t agree with my battle strategies,” she huffed. “My alignment is far too ‘chaotic’ and ‘recklessly violent’ for his tastes apparently.”

“Oh, yeah that makes sense,” Jin laughed this time just envisioning the two of them stuck on a team. “Well have fun with that.”

“Yeah well,” she brushed by him into the hall, keys jangling as she went and calling over her shoulder. “Text me how it goes, and wear that new button up you got last week, it looks good on you!”

***

Much to Jin’s surprise and delight, Magne was right.

He was fine.

Fine was a bit subjective—as he was most certainly still highkey panicking on main as he got out of his last class and walked the short few blocks to the cafe on campus—but regardless he was perfectly okay.

Of course that all went right out the fucking window in the split second between him walking in and you already staring at the door as he entered. Your eyes widened just a bit and this smile broke out slowly across your cheeks when you waved him over and it was like suddenly every single creepy as hell day dream had just become reality.

It was a little overwhelming to say the least.

His heart may have actually stopped in his chest for a bit and he did contemplate the possibility that Kurogiri might have actually discovered his little plot, murdered him in cold blood and stuffed his body in the records room. This might all just be the afterlife, but that would mean that Jin had gone to some kind of heaven which didn’t really add up with his current tract record.

But it was fine.

Because you were really fucking easy to talk to.

Like, really fucking easy.

It was sorta strange actually, how you seemed to know all this shit he was into before he even really mentioned it.

After you traded off the goods, you both sat in the big comfy couches upstairs in the loft and you listened to him info dump, inevitably getting lost down innumerable unrelated tangents. You managed to keep up well enough though and not question the winding conversation.

“Damn,” he said, sipping at the last dregs left behind in his cup. “How do you know about all this stuff?”

“Uh,” you paused then, looking maybe just a bit sheepishly into your own drink. “I may or may not have spent a considerable amount of time eavesdropping into your conversations while you’re on shift.”

He saw flashes at that moment—dial up sounds going off between his ears.

Jin.exe has stopped working.

“...What?”

You grimaced and hid your face in your hands for a moment, “I know it sounds really creepy, my friends just sorta made a, um, game out of it? They tease me a lot about going to study at the library just cause of the cute guy that works there, so we all kinda stalk you a little bit just—wow this is sounding exponentially worse and worse every second.”

He gaped a bit despite himself as you cringed visibly and Jin tried to discreetly pinch his thigh to make sure this really wasn’t some sort of cruel, cruel fever dream.

“You think I’m cute…?”

He blinked once and your eyes shot up to meet his, a pained, half smile caught between your teeth. “I mean, yeah. I kinda thought I was being a bit obvious, sorry.”

“What no, holy fuck,” he spluttered, face on fire and legs bouncing restlessly against the couch across from you. “Don’t apologize, I have a, uh, staring habit too I guess.”

“I know,” you rubbed at the back of your neck and Jin didn’t think it was possible for you to be anymore endearing. “I’ve noticed, that’s like the whole reason I insisted on buying you a drink.”

“So wait is this a date?”

Jin wished almost immediately that he hadn’t asked, because Magne was right, it super didn’t matter but fucking shit on a stick he really wanted it to be a date!!!!

“Yeah,” you nodded. “If you’d like that.”

“Yes!—ah, I mean, uh yeah mhm,” Jin choked on his spit with enthusiasm, but it did earn him a concerned shoulder pat so he’d take the win.

It also afforded him the opportunity to walk you home after hours chatting until the streets were lit by burnt orange lamps and the cafe was closing. You didn’t live all that far from him actually and when you stopped to point out your door, the two of you were overcome by that telltale, charged silence.

Filled with potential.

Like a gas stove waiting for a spark to go up in flames.

It was you that struck the match.

“So, um, I promise I don’t just, uh, do this with everyone but, do you wanna maybe come inside,” you let your hand trail down his arm and slip into his palm, “I don’t feel like you’ve been properly compensated for saving my ass.”

Jin’s mouth was watering at the thought. He nodded slowly, eyes like saucers as you pulled him up your steps and through the door which shut promptly behind him.

Your place was nice in the sense that it fit you. He wasn’t really paying all that much attention to his surroundings as you locked the door and squeezed his hand in yours, leading him towards the end of the entrance hall.

When he stepped through to your bedroom, you toed off your shoes and he did the same, staring nervously and waiting for you to show him what exactly you meant by ‘further compensation.’

It was exactly what he’d hoped.

You approached him, still in the doorway, and stepped close so your chests brushed together. It was soft, the way you looked at him, sort of fuzzy around the edges while your hands trailed down his arms to place his palms at your waist.

It wasn’t like Jin hadn’t done this before—he totally had and definitely remembered all of it and wasn’t shit faced at all nope—but it hadn’t really mattered before. He knew in theory that he should take the lead, be a gentleman and make the first move and holy fucking god he was dying over there with the desire to finally live out his months and months of fantasies

But what if he did it wrong?

What if he ruined it now when he was so close to the finish line?

He’d never fucking forgive himself for it, and he could goddamn hear Magne in his head.

“You think too much for your own good.”

And he did, and he was right now, cause the room was only dimly lit by the street light streaming in through the window and you were reaching out to loop your arms behind his neck.

Should he lean down now?

Tilt left or right?

What if he clacked your teeth together?

What if—

Your lips were soft and hot against his, rubbing at the stubble on his chin before pressing close in that precious, puzzle-piece way human bodies fit together. He didn’t do much thinking after that.

His hands were too busy digging into the flesh of your hips separated by way to many fucking layers of fabric, and he couldn’t quite stop himself from indulging just a bit. Jin sucked gently at your lower lip, knees going weak at the glorious fucking sound you made in the back of your throat as he licked over the taught skin and tugged it between his teeth.

He could feel you smiling into his mouth, sharing breath and raking your fingers through the hair at the base of his neck. Jin groaned and you—fucking cheeky little bastard—slipped your tongue right past his lips and licked at the back of his fucking teeth like a popsicle in July.

Your hands in his hair hard tugged and his breath was coming faster, lips gliding against yours as the room turned to steam around him.

Through the haze he clung to the few remaining seconds of clarity.

Jin pulled away for one painful second to mumble against your lips.“You meant have sex, right?”

“Yeah,” your voice was barely more than a whisper, but you nodded frantically and rolled your hips against his.

“Ohh fuck, ‘kay good, thank god.”

For once Jin had nothing more to add.

And you weren't exactly willing to give him back his tongue long enough for any interruptions anyway.

***

“Holy fucking shit, look at you,” Jin gasped into your ear.

Both of your clothes had been discarded long ago, and he had your bare back to his chest while he sat propped against the headboard with your legs hooked on either side of his knees. It didn’t afford him the best view, but he got your head resting on his shoulder and pretty moans spilling right into his ear.

He didn’t need to see your pussy anyway.

The slick pouring out of your pretty fucking hole and coating his fingers as he pumped two of them into you was more than enough. His other hand wandered in the lovely expanse of space between your chest and your waist, running softly over the skin and pausing to pinch and roll your nipples just to hear you whine.

His cock was so fucking hard, trapped between your ass and his stomach, twitching every time you thrust your hips to meet the movement of his wrist.

“Jin, fuck please-”

You used his name every time you begged him for more and it was really going to his head.

“You’re so goddamn perfect, I’m gonna fucking ruin you,” he groaned and sunk his fingers deeper into your soaking cunt while his mouth dropped to your neck and sucked hard to mark you lovely skin.

He licked at the indents of his teeth, tasting your sweat on his tongue that tangled with yours again as your hand reached for his cheek and pulled him in. It was less of a kiss and more of a sloppy forming of your mouths that left you connected by a silvery string of spit that flashed in the low light. Jin sighed at the sight, rutting his hips against the cleft of your ass.

Your thighs twitched where they were spread and your hips lifted off the mattress to meet the languid thrusts of his fingers that curled up on every push in to hear the hitch in your breath.

He took pity on you and brought his other hand down to rub circles on your clit, listening for the telltale whimpers and the way your nails dug into his arm to find the perfect rhythm.

“I don’t really—mm, there fuck—feel like I’m paying you back right now,” you mumbled nipping your own trail of stepping stone bruises onto his throat as he picked up the pace and held steady on that sweet bundle of nerves.

“Are you fucking serious?”

He didn’t really mean to full on growl at you then, but just the thought that you’d really believe he wasn’t about to fucking drown in ecstasy just from watching you get off—just from touching, speaking, being in anyway acknowledged by you at all. Jin nudged your head to the side and bit down harshly into the crook of your neck, shuddering as you moaned and arched against his chest.

In any other scenario, he could never really find the right balance between too many words and not enough. The sheer volume of thoughts and interjections that raced like cars reaching the end of rush hour traffic made the formulation of any coherent conversation impossible, but now—

Now with your body so pliant in his hands, so willing and sweet and wanting him.

Wanting him.

What a concept.

He needed you to understand, to know how fucking over the moon, sunshine bright you had him burning.

And for once, he finally had the words to do it.

After all, he’d had months to prepare.

It was surprisingly easy to change your positions, to pull away from you for just a moment so he could roll and cage you on your hands and knees under him, ass in the air nestled against his cock.

“You really don’t think I’m getting anything out of this?” he groaned into you ear, rocking his length against you both for emphasis and because it felt so fucking good.

“Ah, well ya know,” your voice was so wrecked he was desperate to find out how much it would take for you to lose it entirely. “When you put it like that—mmh—I just feel bad you’re doing all the work. ”

You had this cheeky fucking grin on your face when you rocked forward so back so his cock slipped down to your dripping lips. The heat of your cunt was mesmerizing and it took a fuck ton of self control Jin was unaware he possessed to not ram straight into you right then.

“Yeah cause I’ve wanted to for fucking months goddamn it’s driving me insane.”

“What?”

Now that he’d started, Jin couldn’t find it in himself to stop. His hands dug hard into your hips, rocking so the tip of his dick caught your clit and you shivered below him, hot skin sliding with the motion of your bodies.

“It’s all I think about whenever I see you,” he was shaking when his hand reached down to grip himself, spreading your folds and soaking his length in your slick. “When you come in to work I just fucking lose myself thinking about how bad I want you to be mine, my pretty fucking thing to bring me coffee while I work and let me fuck you in the backroom.”

You whimpered under him, face pressed into the mattress as he draped himself over you, chest to back with his breath ghosting over your ear.

“Literal hours I just sit there at that awful fucking job and I only keep coming cause of you, cause I can watch you sit all cute in your chair and watch the way your cheeks squish up when you put your face in your hands and imagine they’re my hands and I’m about to spit in your fucking mouth so you remember who you belong too.”

“I—” you were nearly choking on the drool that soaked through your sheets as Jin lined himself up with your pretty little hole, pressing just the tip into your heat. “I didn’t think you ever—nggh, shit—noticed much about me.”

The corners of his eyes burned as sweat dripped down his forehead, he had to hold back a sob as he sheathed another inch into those perfect walls.

“Notice you? You’re all I fucking think about,” he pressed his lips softly against your shoulder, hands running from your chest to your sides as you took his cock and every word that slipped from his lips without complaint. “I could take such good care of you. I just fucking know it, just please, let me take care of you?”

“Fuck Jin,” your voice was closer to a sob than anything else but he needs you screaming. “You don’t really have to convince me—”

His patience had run out long ago, not even willing to let you finish before he’d sunk in to the hilt, spearing you on his cock with one final thrust. You ass was flush with his hips and his balls hung heavy and tight against the back of your thighs. The strangled little cry that worked its way out of your throat had gooseflesh erupting across his arms where he held you to him.

Jin couldn’t really be sure—it wasn’t like his brain was all that functional on a day to day basis and it most certainly was not now—but your walls clenching around him and that addictive warm, wet feeling milking his cock was on a whole other level than any fuck he’d ever had before.

There was something about the curve of your back against his chest, and the way you seemed to suck him in, drawing his length back in just seconds after he’d pulled out. Some about the feeling of your chest in his hands, of the sweat on your skin that he licked off in a long strip up your spine. Like you really were made for him. As though all those months spent in dream land, concocting your pretend lives together had spilled over into reality, molding you into the perfect shape to take him deep and hard and cry while you came on his cock just like he knew you were meant to.

“Oh, fuck yeah, gonna make you feel so good, I promise,” he mumbled, forehead pressed to the nape of your neck as his hips drew back and he sunk into you over and over again.

He needed you to moan louder, needed your neighbors on the other side of every wall to hear what he did to you, how he fucked you dumb on his cock and made you drunk with the pleasure of it—slutty and perfect and better than any fantasy he could ever concoct.

The room was filled completely with the wet slap of your bodies—his balls tightening up just at the squelch of you taking him—leaving only enough space for your cries and his grunting, no room left for any bitter doubt to creep in and ruin the sweetness in the air.

He could feel the surge growing in his stomach, the tensing in his thighs as his hips stuttered, but he needed you to cum first. Wanted to tip over the edge to the feeling of you spasming around him, so he let a hand slip from your hip to your folds. Jin only paused for a moment to run a finger around your stretched hole, feeling himself plunging into you, before drifting back up to your swollen clit and working the sensitive bud.

The mattress creaked and rocked along as Jin increased his pace, shifting his hips until his tip knocked against something that had your hands fisting in the sheets and your tongue lolling out in between cries of his name.

You didn’t give him much a warning, not that he minded really. Just a muffled shout with your head smashed into the pillows and the tightening of your walls surrounding him before he felt your whole body wracked with tremors so hard he had to wrap both arms around your middle and hold you while he rammed into you.

Jin wasn’t really keeping track of the filth that was pouring from his lips as he brought himself closer to release. A lot of encouragement, that you were taking him so well, cumming so pretty for him, mixed with a lot of thanks—for letting him have this, have you, for not casting him aside like everyone else always inevitably did.

He did have the clarity to drag one arm up and link your fingers together, pressing hard into the bed while blood pounded in his ears and his hips stuttered in their relentless rhythm. When Jin did finally cum, it was a strangely silent affair, all the words and sound that usually roared inside him dying on his lips as his cock spilled milky release deep inside you and your walls fluttered at the fullness.

And then it was as though every muscle in his body changed physical states.

Boneless, he collapsed onto you with a little huff. You didn’t even complain, just squeezed his hand tighter in yours and hummed at the weight of him.

“Well I think that was a, um,” you panted while he nuzzled his face deeper into your neck, “pretty equivalent exchange yeah?”

“I don’t know,” Jin kissed and nipped at the sweet skin of your shoulder, “I think you might have over paid a bit.”

You laughed, the joyous movement of your chest jostled him from your back and had his soft cock slipping from you in a gush of combined release. “I doubt that very much, I didn’t know I’d be getting to take your fucking load as part of the deal.”

“Shit,” he felt his heart seize in his chest, raising up on his elbows to look down as you turned to him. “I’m sorry, I should have asked.”

Your hand came up to stroke his cheek, clammy but welcome. He sat up enough so you could lay on your back and pull him back down to your chest amidst the sweat and cum slicked sheets.

“Don’t worry about it, I would have asked you to anyway,” you kissed the baby frizz at his hairline and if Jin hadn’t already melted into a puddle, then he certainly was now. “If I’d been able to talk at all.”

“Ha, yeah….”

A short silence descended in your dark bedroom. The noise of cars and the occasional shout filtered in through the window, but there was no other sound than your evening breaths. Jin tried not to ruin the peace while he had it.

It was such a rare commodity.

But he couldn’t say he mourned the quiet when you finally spoke.

“Did you wanna stay the night?” you asked in that soft way he always envisioned you would.

Soft so he’d know it was just a courtesy.

That you didn’t want him to leave.

“Uh, yeah, yes I would,” he stumbled over the words a bit, trying not to sound too eager but wanting you to know he would work a thousands shifts at the reception desk if it meant you held him for just a second longer.

“Good,” you sighed.

He felt you scoot down the bed and flopped onto his back so you could settle your head on his chest and drape an arm across his stomach. After another few minutes he felt you go limp at his side, soft and relaxed as you slipped away into dreams.

But though his muscles ached and his eyes felt heavy, Jin resisted the call to sleep.

He didn’t need to now.

You were here, in the flesh, and he could study you intently while his eyes were open.

No need for his brain to conjure up scattered images of you.

Because he had you now, tucked safely under his arm for him to keep and hold and fuck and love the way he wanted.

So there was no more need for sleep.

And no need for dreams.

#twice x reader #twice x you #jin bubaigawara x reader #bee writes #bnha fanfiction #college au #library!twice x student!reader #twice mha #bee.writes

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natandwandaseries · 3 years

Text

A Nat and Wanda Series Mini Fic: The Hunt

Omg it has been so long since I last posted a mini fic, Valentines I think? Anywho, hope you all enjoy 🥰🐰

“Okay, I think was great idea,”

“I agree,” Wanda nods, “It will be fun,”

“Don’t tell your mom,” Yelena adds.

“What? Why?”

“Is going to cause chaos,”

“But it’s good chaos, she like good chaos.” Wanda points out.

“Easier to beg for forgiveness.”

She frowns, looking down at her list of coordinates written out on the pad of paper.

“She will find out in about ten minutes anyway,”

“Is true,” Yelena grins, “You have tweet scheduled?”

“Yes, Wanda grind, excited for the coming event and the frenzy that will follow. “I can’t believe you put ‘a date with Yelena’ in one of them,”

“Is the best prize,”

“Better than the car?”

“Obviously,” she snorts, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

The pair had spent the last two days preparing for this. A great deal of thought, and walking, was involved.

The door to the apartment unlocks and Natasha walks in, sweaty from her run, and something small enclosed in her right hand.

“Hi Tasha, happy Holy Thursday,”

“I would agree,” she nods criptically, unfolding her fist, “Especially since I just won a date with Yelena,” The plastic egg rolls out of her hand and onto the table.

“Oh come on!” Yelena groans.

“How many eggs?”

“A little over three hundred,” Wanda replies sheepishly. The customized egg is red, with an interlocking Y and W printed on the side.

“How much did you spend?”

“I pay,” Yelena defends Wanda, “for filling, Wanda pay for eggs.”

“What kind of filling?”

“The grand prize is a gold egg with car keys and an address for a Tesla!”

“Jesus Christ Yelena!”

“Is who we do it for,” Yelena nods soberly.

“Excuse me?”

“Jesus’s un-death day,” she shrugs, “is the cheapest Tesla,”

“What else?”

“Money mostly, some candy. When you and Steve were on a mission for the past few days we did it,”

“Is so so so boring without you here, dear sister.”

“You mean no one to keep you in check?”

“Exactly,”

Wanda’s phone dings as the Tweet goes out, announcing the city-wide Easter-egg hunt in parks throughout the city.

“This is going to be mayhem, you at least informed the police on park detail, right?” Nat pinches the bridge of her nose.

“Of course, and I cover overtime, is holiday weekend.” Yelena puffs up. Nat nods and heads to take a shower, tugging Wanda’s ponytail as she goes by.

“And Yelena,” she calls

“Da?”

“You’re picking me up at eight,”

“For what?”

“Our date, of course,” Nat flashes a smile as she disappears around the corner to get ready for what will likely be an unforgettable evening.

#thenatandwandaseries #natandwandaseries #ao3 fanfic #marvel fanfic series #ao3 writer #marvel fanfiction #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #yelena boleva

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songtoyou · 3 years

Text

Chapter 12: Switch - Part One

Tolerate It

Paring: Modern!Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Story Rating: R (No minors should read this fic).

Word Count: 3,791

Warnings: Swearing

Story Description: Tommy Shelby is the owner and CEO of Shelby Company Limited. Starting out as a Bookmaker, Tommy had big ideas to expand his riches. In the past ten years, the company has grown rapidly to expand its business ventures from bars to producing alcohol, manufacturing motor vehicle parts, and exporting. One of the richest men in Great Britain, Tommy Shelby, has it all. Unfortunately, the death of his wife, Grace, left the multi-millionaire mogul alone and depressed. He needed someone to fulfill his needs and deepest darkest desires.

Chapter Summary: Easter has arrived. Tommy is spending it with his family, while Rose is forced to spend time with her ex. We learn that Tommy does not always want to be in control.

A/N: This chapter will have two parts.

I do not permit my work to be posted on any other site without my permission.

Tag list: @owenniasstars

There was a part of Tommy that wished he did not have to be in control all of the time. It was understandable that he be the one in charge of his business as he had no other person to rely on to step up to the plate. Michael was still too young. Also, Tommy had been developing doubts and distrust towards his cousin. It didn’t help that Michael would schedule secret meetings with potential business partners and act as if he was doing it to help Tommy and the company. Tommy used to rely on and confide in his Aunt Polly. Yet, she began to distance herself more and more from the company, especially since getting remarried to Aberama Gold, a fellow business associate to Tommy. John and Arthur had their business deals to worry about, and Ada spent most of her time in the States.

He wished Grace was still alive. She was Tommy’s number one supporter. He shared almost everything with Grace (the legal side) and truly valued her advice and opinions. When Tommy was with Grace, he was able just to be himself. He was allowed to be calm and not have to overwork his mind. He didn’t have to be in control.

It was only with Grace that Tommy allowed another person to have total control over him in the bedroom. Both he and Grace shared characteristics of a dominant and submissive. They often switched roles, with Tommy as the dominant and Grace as the submissive, and vice versa. He loved it when Grace used to dominate him. No one would have suspected the sweet-natured blonde woman had an alpha personality behind closed doors, who was and controlling and overtly sexual.

With Grace gone, Tommy never allowed himself to be vulnerable in front of anyone. Lizzie tried to get Tommy to open that side of him up, but he denied her. He couldn’t do it. A part of Tommy felt as if it would be a betrayal to Grace. Both Ada and Polly constantly told Tommy that it was okay for him to move on from Grace.

“She gave you, on her deathbed, the permission to move on, Thomas. Respect your deceased wife’s wishes,” Aunt Polly would tell him.

“Find someone to have a family with, Tommy. Charlie deserves to have a mother figure in his life and possible siblings if it were to happen. Let yourself be happy,” were Ada’s words of encouragement.

No doubt Tommy would hear those exact words at his sister’s house this Sunday afternoon to celebrate Easter with the entire Shelby clan. Boy, it was going to be a long day. Charlie ended up spending the night at Ada’s with his cousins. Tommy was glad for that as indeed his sister would provide his son with an Easter basket. Tommy was not one for decorative or holiday pleasantries. That was all Grace. When Grace passed, Ada, Polly, or Esme would be the ones to step in and make sure Charlie celebrated his birthday with a party or invite him over for holiday festivities. Guilt would riddle Tommy at that notion that he could not provide his only child with a happy environment. Yes, Tommy loved Charlie dearly. However, Tommy could not deny that he lacked in other emotional departments. He was not one for sentiments or terms of endearment.

Another subject Tommy was not keen to have brought up was his “relationship” with Rose Turner. Unfortunately, he knew better than to expect his family members to rile him up about her and ask questions. None of them knew how Tommy met Rose. It was the same with Lizzie. While both Arthur and John were not faithful to their wives, neither were allowed to be members of Excelsior Club. He had mentioned Arthur and John to Tatiana to inquire if they could become members. Tatiana stated that they were both a liability. “Your brothers are too reckless and don’t fit the standards of our usual clientele. They are, how do I put this nicely? They are too ‘rough around the edges,’ so to speak,” Tatiana said dismissively when Tommy first started going to the Club.

It didn’t matter to Tommy either way; his brothers still managed to do fine all on their own. Besides, Arthur and John were not the faces of Shelby Company Limited; Tommy was and had an image to protect. If Tommy went down in disgrace, it would be for his business dealings, not that he kept himself in the company of whores.

However, Tommy could not help his growing feelings for Rose. There was an energy about her that was attractive to him that he could not quite understand why. Tommy was not sure if it was because Rose was able to adhere to his wicked desires. It amazed Tommy how she was keen on submitting and doing almost anything to please him. During scenes, Rose responded to Tommy as if he was the only man she needed, the only man she desired. And it felt genuine, not put on. There would be moments during aftercare where Rose would look at Tommy with such admiration and respect, that at first, it made him feel uneasy. But after a while, he came come to desire that look. That Tommy would do whatever it took to make sure Rose always looked at him in such away. Tommy found that he craved Rose’s respect, which caught him off guard.

Tommy soon realized that he also respected Rose and how she would do anything for her son. He admired that notion about her. She willingly entered into a line of work that could be demanding, demeaning, and possibly dangerous to provide for her child was not something that Tommy took lightly or was flippant about it. He would never refer to Rose as a “hooker with a heart of gold.” No, she was much more than a trope. Tommy knew Rose did not need a knight and shining armor to save her.

Lizzie wanted Tommy to save her. At the time, Tommy was in no position to be someone’s hero. He was too bruised, too shattered, too broken.

Now, here Tommy was at his sister’s home celebrating Easter. He sat back and watched everyone. The laughter, the smiles, Tommy felt like he didn’t belong. Tommy felt like he couldn’t breathe, so he stepped out back to smoke a cigarette since Ada did not allow smoking in her home.

The inhale of nicotine helped soothe Tommy’s anxiety and calm his nerves. Often, he wished he was back on opium. It was his way of coping after coming home from Afghanistan. He was only able to get clean because of Grace and her support. He never touched the stuff after getting clean, but there were still cravings. The feelings that came with the high brought such bliss. The satisfaction that nothing could harm you. Those weren’t going to go away magically overnight.

Tommy’s solitude was interrupted when his son, nephews, and nieces ran outside with their baskets to search for eggs. He looked at his watch and sighed. He was not sure how much longer he could stand this.

As the children flittered around the yard, Tommy took out his phone. He opened the message from one of the Blinders he had assigned to watch over Rose that day. The text message Tommy received earlier unsettled him. It was a picture of Rose exiting her house with Louis and a man. The three got in a car and drove off. At first sight of the image, Tommy felt enraged. He immediately wanted to know who this man was and why he was with Rose. Tommy was livid. Fortunately, he calmed himself down when Rose sent him a text an hour later.

Rose: I know you have your guys watching over Louis and me. While I do appreciate that, it is a little much. The man I am with is Louis’s father, Nick. We are going out for an Easter brunch. Nothing for you to worry about, and Happy Easter.

Tommy didn’t respond, but he was grateful that Rose cleared things up. He knew his reaction to the picture was ridiculous. The slight pang of jealously surprised Tommy. He didn’t quite know where it came from; it was the same feeling when Rose told him that Changretta contacted her. He was still unsure about what to do with Changretta. First, it was only business that Changretta was causing Tommy grief; now, the man was gearing up to steal his girl. Tommy realized that he must have been too lenient when dealing with the Changrettas now overstepping their boundaries. Tommy and the Peaky Blinders would have to put them in their place for good.

Tommy would make sure that Rose was not a casualty if a war broke out. He was not going to lose her or the war.

“Mum! Come on!” Louis yelled. He was dressed and ready to go, but his mum was taking forever. “What is taking so long?”

“In a minute!” Rose shouted back. She was ready but was busy doing making an Easter basket for Louis. Rose placed the items strategically in the basket. She grabbed the basket and walked down the stairs. “Happy Easter, my little man.”

Rose handed the basket to Louis, who had a look of confusion and annoyance on his face. “What the Hell, Mum? Is this what you have been doing for the last thirty minutes?”

“Yes,” Rose said. “Don’t you like it?”

Louis sighed and placed the basket on the table. “I’m too old for an Easter basket,” he moaned but still looked through the basket to see what he got. “Holy shit! A new iPhone! AirPods!”

“Still want the basket?” Rose questioned sarcastically. “I mean, I’ll take it back if you don’t want it.”

“No, I want it. Mum, thank you,” Louis beamed with happiness and hugged Rose.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. You’re a good kid. I love you.”

“I love you too, Mum.”

Their tender moment was cut short when the doorbell rang. “Who the bloody Hell could that be?” Rose asked, confused.

“It is probably Dad. I told him it would be easier to pick us up,” Louis explained and went to open the door. “Dad! So good to see you.”

Rose stood back, arms crossed, as Louis hugged his father. It was a sight that had Rose feel a pang in her chest. It reminded her that the three of them could have been a family, a typical family. That is what Louis deserved. Nick looked over at Rose and smiled at her. It was a warm and genuine smile. Rose felt like she was sixteen all over again.

“Rosie, you look…beautiful as always,” Nick complimented and went in for a hug but stopped himself. “We can hug, right?’

Rose scoffed, “Of course we can hug, weirdo.” The former lovers embraced, and Rose felt a familiarity, the feeling of being safe and uncertain. She pulled away. “Well, we better get going. Louis, where did you decide we go to eat?”

“Bella Roma. Can we stop by an Apple store after we’re done eating? I want to be able to switch over from my old iPhone to the new one. Mum, got me a new iPhone.” Louis held up his phone to his dad.

“Nice,” Nick admired.

“We’ll see. Come, let’s get going,” Rose ordered and ushered everyone out of the house. Locking up, Rose turned around to see Louis and Nick walked towards a car. “Wow. Is this your car, Nick?”

“Don’t act so shocked. It is a used car, but yes, it is mine,” he told Rose. “It is a 2017 Hyundai Elantra. Got a pretty good price for it too.”

“Very nice,” Rose approved as she got inside, with Louis settling himself comfortably in the back seat.

“Dad has a full-time job now. Isn’t that right, Dad,” Louis spoke up eagerly.

Nick started the car and drove away from the house. It would not be too long before they arrived at the restaurant. “Where do you work?” Rose asked, trying to hide the tone of suspicion in her voice.

“My father took pity on me. I work at his insurance company. It took a while for him to trust me again. But Mum told Dad to give me a chance, especially when I got out of….”

“Prison,” Rose interrupted, and she noticed Nick straighten up in his seat. “That is good to hear. I’m glad your relationship with your parents is better. Better than mine, that is for sure,” she added under her breath.

It was not long until Nick parked near Bella Roma. Once they entered the restaurant, the three were seated quickly. Rose sat on one side, while Nick and Louis sat together on the other side. Rose sat back and watched the interaction between father and son. It was sweet to watch Louis interact with his father. As Rose looked between the two, she was reminded how much they both looked so very much alike. It was eerie. Dark brown hair and brown eyes were two of the features they shared, along with a dimple on their chin.

Soon, their waitress stopped by to get drink orders. “I’ll just have water, thank you,” said Rose. Truthfully, she would have liked a glass of wine to help take the edge off. However, Rose didn’t want anything to hinder her guard up around Nick.

They ended up ordering pizza to share and a plate of arancini as a starter. Louis was the one to dominate the conversation. He was desperately trying to get his parents to interact more. Louis kept praising his dad’s accomplishments to get his mum’s attention. “Mum, did you know dad volunteers to help underprivileged kids. It’s like, what did you refer to it as, a nice version of scared straight?”

Nick chuckled, “Something like that. I figured I could do something good and help guide kids to not make the same mistakes as me.”

Rose bit her tongue. For Louis’s sake, she would be nice. However, she wanted to bite back and ask Nick what he considers mistakes he has made throughout his life. Rose hoped he didn’t view Louis as some mistake. That would set her off. Rose picked at her pizza; she found herself not hungry all of a sudden. Nick and Louis continued to talk amongst themselves about mundane topics such as school, sports, music, etc.

At that moment, Rose’s thoughts drifted to Tommy. She wondered what he was doing, and kind of wished he was with her. That thought caught Rose off guard. She pulled out her phone and sent him a quick text. She wanted to let him know that she was out with Louis and Nick, along with wishing him a happy Easter. There were times where Rose wished she didn’t have to leave Tommy after their rendezvous in the hotel that Friday. She always felt safe with Tommy. There was a sense of security and a feeling of being protected.

Rose found herself that the more she hung around Tommy, the more she began to trust him, and the more Rose began to like Tommy, which scared her. She was not supposed to develop feelings for him. He was a client, after all. He paid for her services. She willingly allowed him to do unspeakable sexual acts to her. Rose was willing to let Tommy do things she would never allow any other man to do to her. She wondered what made Tommy different compared to someone like Luca or Alfie. Probably because, in a weird sense, Tommy treated Rose like a human being and not some toy. Yes, she knew Tommy tended to be possessive, but he still respected Rose’s boundaries. Rose trusted Tommy not ever to cross them.

“Rosie, are you still here?” Nick asked. He waved his hand in front of Rose’s face to get her attention.

“What?” Rose shook her head to clear her mind. “Sorry, what’s going on?”

“Dad asked you about the guy you are currently seeing,” Louis answered. He was frustrated that his dad brought up Tommy.

“Oh yeah, what about Tommy?”

“Just wondered how long you have been seeing this guy? How did you two meeting by the way?” Nick questioned. “I’ll be frank; I was stunned to find out that the mother of my child is dating the one and only Tommy Shelby. Isn’t he an OBE?”

Rose shrugged her shoulders at the question, “I guess he is an OBE. I don’t know; he has yet to show me his medal or whatever it is they get. You know, Tommy is just a guy I met, and we hit it off. Nothing too outrageous.”

“Is it serious?” Again, another question from Nick.

Louis sighed in annoyance, and Rose quickly picked up on her son’s discomfort on the subject of Tommy. “Let’s see if they have dessert,” Rose changed the subject and tried to wave over their waitress.

“Have you met him, Louis?” asked Nick turning towards his son.

Rolling her eyes, Rose interceded, “No, he has not met Tommy.”

“And I don’t want to,” Louis mumbled under his breath.

“Hey, here is an idea, how we don’t talk about Tommy, okay,” ordered Rose, and both guys agreed.

After sharing a tiramisu, Rose had enough and was ready to get back home. Nick offered to pay, and Rose didn’t fight him on it. She figured it was his way of showing he had his own money and could provide a meal for them. With their leftovers boxed up, Rose led the way back to Nick’s car.

“Louis, did you still want to go to the Apple store?” Rose asked him.

“Can we? I thought you wanted to get back home.”

“I do, but we can get the leftovers in the fridge, and I can take you,” replied Rose. Truthfully, she did not want to go. She had enough excitement for one day.

Suddenly, Nick piped in, “I can take him if you feel like staying home.”

Rose turned around to look at Louis, “Is that okay with you?”

“That’s fine,” answered Louis, happily. He was excited to get to spend some alone time with his dad.

Nick parked in front of the house. Rose and Louis and got out of the car. He handed the pizza boxes to Rose and got in the front seat. “I’ll see you late, sweetie. By Nick. Take care.”

“Bye, Rosie. Talk to you later.”

Rose waved them off and walked towards the house. She breathed a sigh of relief upon entry. She went upstairs to undress and put on a pair of comfortable sweats and sweater. All Rose wanted to do was relax.

Looking at the clock, it was only 3:30 PM. Lunch with Nick felt like it went on longer. As Rose was about to settle herself on the couch to watch television, the doorbell rang. “Now, who the Hell is that?”

“Fucking ‘ell, people. It’s Easter Sunday, for God’s sake.” She walked to the front door and opened it to find none other than Tommy Shelby.

“Tommy, what are you doing here?” inquired Rose, totally not expecting it to be him.

Clearing his throat, Tommy shuffled on his feet. He looked down, then up at Rose. “I…I needed to get out and away. It was all too much.”

Rose was confused by what Tommy was telling her. She motioned for Tommy to come inside, and he obliged. “What do you mean it was all too much? Are you okay?”

Guiding Tommy to the couch, Rose sat down next to him. She was concerned since she had never seen Tommy like this before. It was as if he was lost.

Tommy sighed, “I was at my sister’s house. Everyone was there, my brothers, their wives and kids, Aunt Polly and her husband, his kids. Everyone had someone but me. I was alone. Charlie was there, of course, but it if feels like the bond we once had is dwindling. He doesn’t need me. I watched him play with his cousins and interact with his aunts and uncles and realized that my son is better off without me.”

Rose was shocked at Tommy’s words. She scooted closer to him and placed a supported hand on his knee. “Tommy, no. That is not true. Of course, your son needs you. You are his father. You’re his family.”

“He has other family members who can give him the love and attention he deserves. Maybe I should have listened to Grace’s parents and had Charlie live with them.”

“No. Tommy, listen to me,” Rose began and made Tommy look at her. “Charlie is your son. You love him. You told me that you love him. He is a part of you and Grace. If you give Charlie up, you will regret it. Then you truly will lose him.”

“It would be better for him….”

“No, it would not. It would only scar that child for the rest of his life. He will feel that you abandoned him,” Rose stated firmly. “You’re not thinking clearly. It’s a holiday. We all get weird when we are forced to hang around family members. Just stay here for a while and relax.”

Rose found that her hand moved from Tommy’s knee to his hand sitting back on the couch. He was holding on tight as if he was afraid Rose would disappear. She used her other hand to cover his. Rose wanted Tommy to know that she was not going anywhere. Taking in Tommy’s appearance, he was dressed in blue jeans, a black sweater, and black boots. It was the most casual look Rose had ever seen Tommy. She was always used to seeing him in suits. It was a nice change. However, the look on his face was one of sadness and defeat.

“Tell me what you need, Tommy?” Rose asked. She pulled Tommy closer to her and wrapped an arm around him. “Tell me how I can make it better,” she crooned in his ear and ran her fingers through his hair.

What did Tommy want? He was unsure. A part of Tommy didn’t want to feel always in control. That he could let go and be in the moment. That’s what he wanted; he wanted to be in the moment with Rose. Just the two of them, sitting together. “I just want to sit here, with you, Rose. That’s all I want right now. I don’t want to think about anything.”

Kissing the top of Tommy’s head, Rose leaned her head on his. “Okay, we can do that, Tommy. I’m here. Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x oc #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fic

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atths--twice · 4 years

Text

Called on Account of Rain

Today is Father’s Day and that needs to be celebrated. This is the second one Mulder and Scully will experience and this year, things are a bit different in the world. As a result, the plans involve being closer to home. But plans sometimes change and sometimes... they change for the better.

Hope you enjoy!

June 2020

Mulder woke with a start, the sound of rain falling heavily on the roof. He hummed as he listened to it, thunder rumbling softly in the distance.

Turning his head, he looked over at Scully, hoping she was asleep; thunder sometimes causing her to feel uneasy. Blinking his eyes in the soft light of the nightlight in the corner, he saw she was not beside him. Glancing at the bathroom, he saw the door stood open, the room dark.

Not hearing her moving around quietly in the dark bathroom, he sat up with a yawn, the rain sounding louder than a couple of minutes ago. Looking over at the baby monitor, wondering if perhaps Faith had woken up, he saw she was sleeping soundly in the corner of her crib, her knees pulled up underneath her. He smiled at the sight, taking a deep breath as he stood up.

He stretched and walked toward the bedroom door, opening it quietly and listening to hear if Scully was puttering around downstairs. Not hearing anything, he walked down the stairs to have a look around.

Bella was asleep in her crate, the small lamp in the corner providing a warm light to the room. Everything appeared as it always did, and yet Scully was nowhere to be seen.

Turning around, he caught sight of something through the blinds. Stepping closer to get a better look, his breath held as he did, he saw it was a flashlight. The beam of it was dancing across the yard and heading toward the garage.

“What in the hell?” he muttered, letting out his breath as he stepped away from the window. He slipped on his tennis shoes, grabbed an umbrella, and walked out the door, closing it behind him.

Opening the umbrella, he stepped through the open baby gate and walked down the stairs, heading toward a soaking wet Scully.

“Hey!” he called out to her over the sound of the falling rain. She jumped and turned around, her arms full of something, the flashlight in her hand. “What in the hell are you doing out here?”

He put the umbrella over both of them, although he knew it was quite pointless as she was soaked to the skin, her pajamas clinging to her. She sighed and he looked down at what she was holding, frowning as he looked back up at her.

“What… Honey… what?” He shook his head and brushed her wet hair back from her forehead.

“I…” she started and then sighed. “Come on and I’ll tell you.” She turned back around and they walked together toward the garage, where he could now see the light was on and the door was open.

Stepping inside, he shook out the umbrella, setting it down as he turned to her. She set the flashlight on a shelf and began to place the brightly colored plastic Easter eggs beside it. Brushing her hair back before looking at him, she shook her head.

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” she said with a sigh. “I didn’t expect it to rain again and I really didn’t expect it to rain this hard.” She gestured out the door and he looked, watching as it poured down. Looking back at her with a small smile, he raised his eyebrows.

“It’s Father’s Day tomorrow… well, today I suppose,” she explained with a sigh. He stared at her and waited for her to continue. “I had a plan for… for a fun scavenger hunt type thing. I hid the eggs earlier when I said I was going to go for a run. I had it all planned out. The notes in the eggs… the places to set them… and then…” She gestured outside again and he smiled wider, catching on to what she was implying.

“So, you put these out,” he said, reaching for an egg on the shelf. He opened it and found a wet piece of paper inside, the ink heavily smeared, the words under the rock the only ones still readable.

“The plan was to have you find them and it would lead to your Father’s Day gift… something I had set up and gotten ready. But now…” she grumbled and he smiled even wider, placing the egg back on the shelf.

“What was the gift?”

“Oh, well the gift itself wasn’t ruined, just the road leading to it, as it were. So no... I won’t be telling you about the gift,” she said pointedly, with a smirk. He grinned and nodded, picking up the flashlight and the umbrella.

“Well, I’m sorry that your plan was rained out. It looks like it would have been fun.”

“Yes, it would have,” she agreed with a deep sigh and another shake of her head.

“Hmm… well, as there is nothing that can be done about it, especially right now, I say we do what is within our control,” he said with a wink. “I say we make a run for it. I mean… you really need to get out of those wet clothes.”

“Oh, really?” she asked, reaching for his hand and stopping him from opening the umbrella, taking it from his hand. “Then I think, if we’re going to make a run for it, and you’re relatively dry yet, while I’m wet- actually, soaked is the word I would use…” He moaned with desire and she chuckled.

He stared at her, taking in her dripping hair, the way the dark, almost metallic gray of her pajamas appeared nearly the color of midnight black as a result of the rain. His eyes were drawn to the way it clung to her body, specifically her breasts, her nipples hard beneath it. The lace at the end of the sleeves and the small shorts she wore, were even more appealing than they had been a few hours ago, the rain adding a sensual element.

He shook his head as he tried to stop his thoughts from running away too far away from him. She was right; she was soaked, and he was barely wet. With a large grin, he turned off the light and reached for her hand. Pulling her out of the garage, she slammed the door as heavy raindrops hit their skin, causing them both to shiver. Laughing, they ran down the driveway hand-in-hand.

He was as soaked as she was by the time they turned the corner. Stopping her from running up the stairs, he laughed as he spun her around, and pulled her back, the useless umbrella held in her hand. Wrapping his arms around her, they danced in the rain, laughing hysterically, not a care in the world.

Stripping, their wet clothes left in a soggy heap on the porch, they giggled as they stepped inside. Locking the door behind them, they hurried up the stairs, water dripping from both of them. A shared shower later, in which the water was not the only thing that was warm, they laid down in bed.

She wore a different pair of new pajamas to bed: short sleeved blue satin with white polka dots and white piping. He liked the new sets she had bought recently. They were like her old ones, the ones she had worn in countless motel rooms, but with shorts instead of pants. Shorts which he could slide his fingers under, his touch causing her to catch her breath and moan.

He loved those shorts.

Her bare legs grazed his under the covers as he pulled her closer and he sighed with happiness. She hummed as she rubbed a hand across his chest, before holding onto his t-shirt as she breathed his name. She breathed deeply, as the sound of the rain falling steadily down, played like a lullaby and sang them to sleep.

He woke to an empty bed, the day dark, cloudy, and already warm. Stretching, he sat up and rose from the bed, stumbling sleepily into the bathroom.

Yawning as he left the bathroom a few minutes later, he put on some sweatpants. Rubbing at his face as he opened the bedroom door, he walked down the stairs, following the laughter he heard.

Finding Scully and Faith in the kitchen, he smiled as he watched them. Scully was singing softly to her, tickling her as they sat at the table, and Faith ate her breakfast.

“Oh, look who finally decided to get up, my Love,” Scully teased as she looked up at him.

“Funny,” he smiled, walking closer to them, Faith turning her head to look at him.

“Dada,” she said with a smile and clapped her hands. “Hi. Hi, Dada.” She waved at him, and he bent to kiss her repeatedly and loudly in her neck, making growling monster sounds. She laughed and pulled away, looking at him with a big smile.

“Good morning, my ladies,” he said, kissing the top of Scully‘s head as he stepped to the counter. Opening the cupboard to grab a coffee mug and poured himself a cup of coffee. Sitting down beside Scully, he smiled happily at both of them.

“Happy Father’s Day,” Scully said with a sigh and a shake of her head. “Faith woke up early and I haven’t had a chance to make a special breakfast for us yet, just hers. But, there is waffle batter in the fridge and a pack of bacon.” She looked at him and he nodded.

“That’s fine, I’m not hungry just yet,” he said, with a shake of his head and a hand on her arm. She sighed again and he rubbed her back. “Scully?”

“I had a plan… and a title to uphold,” she said with a pout and he laughed softly.

“We aren’t betting this year,” he reassured her, squeezing her shoulder. “It’s been cancelled on account of this being quite a shitty year.”

“I know… ” She glanced at Faith, finding her distracted, and then looked back at him. “And it’s been a fucker of a year.” She told him quietly as she shook her head, letting out a sigh as he rubbed her back with a chuckle.

“Still, you had such thoughtful and beautiful gifts for me. We're stuck inside, it’s been hard on all of us at times and… it would have been fun, but the weather was just not on my side today.”

“It’s okay, Honey. Neither of us needs gifts, but of course they’re nice. This… this right here,” he said, gesturing to her and Faith. “This is all I need.” He smiled and leaned toward her, waiting for her to meet him halfway for a kiss. She grinned and kissed him softly, her hand resting lightly on his chest.

“Dada!” Faith yelled and he pulled back, smiling at Scully, and squeezing her hand gently before he looked at Faith.

“Yes, my love,” he said and she smiled at him, slapping her hands happily on the table.

“Would you mind taking Bella out?” Scully asked. “I let her out to pee, but she could use more time outside, especially before it starts to rain again.”

“Sure.”

“Let her run for a bit and when little miss here is finished, I’ll start on our breakfast.” He nodded, taking a sip of his coffee and standing up. Kissing the top of her head, he picked up his mug and stepped back from the table.

“Bella!” he called to her and she stood from her bed, stretching before coming over to him, her body wiggling happily.

“Good girl. Come on then,” he said, smiling as he pet her, scratching behind her ears.

Putting on a different pair of shoes than he wore last night, as those were still on the porch, along with their wet clothes, he opened the door. Bella ran out ahead of him, running quickly back and forth across the porch before waiting at the baby gate for him to open it, her tail wagging excitedly.

“Okay, Bella. I can see your excited,” he laughed, unlocking the gate and letting her run down the steps and onto the rain covered grass.

He closed the door, not wanting to let the humid heat of the day inside. Setting his coffee mug on the railing, he stretched his arms up over his head, yawning as he did. Bringing them down, he twisted and turned, his back popping, before he rolled his neck and exhaled.

Whistling for Bella, he picked up one of her tennis balls and threw it to her. She ran after it, her feet slipping a little in the grass, as she ran back to him and dropped the ball.

“Good girl. Here you go.” He threw it again and she scampered clumsily down the steps, her too-long legs and feet getting tangled up. Smiling, he walked across the porch, looking up at the dark sky. Bella dropped her ball and ran after it, playing fetch on her own.

He chuckled softly and then paused, standing completely still, thinking he had heard something. Hearing it again, he bent down with a frown, listening closer. Hearing it again, he exhaled in surprise.

“Holy shit.” He stood up quickly and opened the other gate. Hurrying safely down the wet steps, he squatted down and looked through a small hole in a broken slat on the bottom of the porch, but could not see anything. Bella came running up with a bark, pushing into him, and licking his face.

“Hey, Bella, back up a bit,” he told her, pushing her back gently, as he patted her back. She whined and as she did, he heard the sound again, closer than before. Bella whipped her head toward the sound, her ears up.

“Yeah, you hear it too, huh?” he asked and Bella whined again, pushing closer to the broken slat. She sniffed and whined softly, looking back at him, then back at the slat again, when he heard it even closer this time.

“Good girl, Bella. Hey, come on out of there,” he said softly, looking into the slat, still seeing nothing. “Come on. Psst. Psst.”

Bella gave a low whine and then the small head of a kitten popped through the slat, meowing loudly as it pushed through the rest of the way. Bella sniffed at the incredibly tiny kitten, bending down low as she investigated the little creature.

“Hey there,” Mulder said, picking up the wet, gray striped kitten. It mewled as he stood up, clinging to him as Bella jumped up, her paws on his legs, trying to see the kitten again. “Yeah, we got it, Bella. Thanks for your help, girl.” He patted her head and she dropped back down to the ground.

“Where did you come from, little one?” he asked the kitten, tipping its head back with the his finger. It looked back at him with blue eyes, shaking as it meowed quietly and then began to purr loudly.

“Oh… we need to get you inside. Come on, Bella.”

He walked up the stairs, holding the small kitten close. Closing one of the gates, Bella still following him closely, he walked across the porch and closed the other gate. Picking up his coffee mug from the railing, he opened the door and stepped inside.

“Oh, Honey,” he called out with a smile, as Bella ran in to see Faith, who was playing on the floor. She gave her hello lick, causing her to giggle. “I need your help with something.”

“Mm-hmm,” Scully said, closing the refrigerator, the bowl of waffle batter in her hand. Glancing at him, she smiled as she turned to set it down. Turning back around quickly, the bowl landed with a thud onto the counter as she looked at him with wide eyes.

“Wh… what…” she stammered, walking over to him. “Where… Mulder…”

“It was under the porch,” he said, handing her the kitten, who meowed and gripped onto her, crawling up her chest and nearly to her shoulder. She grabbed it and held it in her hands, cuddling it to her chest. He set his mug on the table and sighed.

“The poor thing must have been out in the rain all night,” she murmured, looking at the kitten. “Oh, Mulder, it’s shivering. We need to wash it and get it dry.”

“Dada,” Faith said, and he felt a tug on his pants as she grabbed onto him. “Up.” He bent and picked her up, pointing to the cat.

“Look, Honey. It’s a kitten – a baby cat.”

“Cat,” she said, reaching to touch it. “Maow.”

“Yes, the cat says meow. Good job, Honey. I wonder where it came from,” he said looking at Scully.

“I don’t know, but we need to make sure it’s okay. It’s so cute.” She turned it over, glancing quickly with a smile. “She. She is so cute.”

“She,” he scoffed. “Of course it’s a she.” He gestured at Scully, Faith, Bella and then waved his arm to include the fish upstairs. “I’m surrounded forever by women.”

“And you love it,” she said, rubbing the kitten’s head as she began to purr again. “I’ll give her a bath. Can you get a towel from upstairs?”

“Yep. Let’s go Faithy. We’re on a kitten mission.” He bounced her in his arms on the way up the stairs, grabbing the towel and then stopping in Faith‘s room to find a fleece blanket, thinking the kitten would be comforted by the softness of it.

As they neared the bottom of the stairs, Faith looked at him, worry in her eyes as they heard the cat meowing loudly from the kitchen. Walking over to the sink, they saw that the kitten was in a small amount of water, the faucet on low. Bella was whining as she stood with her front paws on the counter, trying to see what was happening.

“It’s okay, Bella. She’s just a little nervous, but she’s okay. We just need to clean her off and warm her up. Yeah, you’re okay little one. We’ve got you now.” Mulder watched her smile at the terrified kitten and he smiled back.

“Cat,” Faith said, pointing at the kitten. “Maow.”

“Yeah, Honey. Mama is taking good care of her,” he said and Scully smiled again, rinsing the kitten gently.

“There we go. I think that’s good,” she said, turning off the faucet and squeezing the kitten gently to remove any excess water. “At least she’s cleaner than before. We can’t use soap, she’s too little, but that should be good enough. Hand me the towel?” She reached for it and he gave it to her, wrapping it securely around the kitten, and lifting her into her arms.

“Yeah, you’re okay. All done with the water now. Shhh… it’s okay.” She walked to the table and sat down, Bella following, her nose pressing into the towel, sniffing around and whining. “She’s okay, Bella. Aren’t you sweetie?” The kitten gave a soft meow and closed her eyes as Scully chuckled softly. “Yeah, she’s okay.”

Faith wiggled in Mulder’s arms and he set her down. Scully leaned forward so she could see the kitten better and Faith stared at her with wide eyes.

“Cat,” she said again quietly and Scully smiled, glancing at Mulder as she did. He smiled back as he squatted down beside her, his hand on Faith’s small back.

The kitten opened her eyes and her blue eyes met Faith’s, as she let out a soft meow. Faith gasped and looked at Scully.

“Cat. Maow,” she said with a surprised tone, as though she had not heard her meowing already.

“Yes, she meowed,” Scully said with a smile as she rubbed the kitten gently.

“Cat,” Faith said yet again and the kitten closed her eyes, purring louder than before.

“Oh, she’s so cute, Mulder,” Scully said, touching the kitten's forehead. “We don’t have anything here for a cat, though.” Raising her head, she looked at him and he grinned.

“So, I’m assuming we’re keeping her?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“Of course we are!” she said incredulously. “Are you serious?”

“I believe you once told me we could never have a cat because of…”

“Because you called my vagina a kitty?” she said over him and he sighed loudly.

“Yeah. That.”

“Well... I’m over that,” she stated firmly, looking back down at the kitten. “She took shelter here, Mulder. She must have chosen us for a reason.” Looking up at him again, he nodded with a grin.

Of course they were going to keep her.

As if there was any other option.

_________________

Shutting off the car, he put on his face mask with a smile. Closing the door, he walked into the pet store to gather the items needed for the new kitten.

Food- wet and dry, dishes, treats, toys, a litter box, cat sand and a scooper, a scratching post/climbing toy, a bed, and a purple collar with a tiny bell. The cart was piled high when he made his way to the front of the store. The clerk smiled kindly at him behind her mask, as he began to place the items onto the counter.

“Looks like someone has a new family member,” she said with a chuckle.

“You could say that,” he agreed with a laugh. “Bit of a surprise on our end, obviously.” He gestured to the items and she laughed with him.

“That’s sometimes the best way to gain a new member of the family. We have a cat here who hangs about. She’s skittish and hesitant, but I love seeing her every day.”

“They do find their way into our hearts, don’t they?”

“That they do,” the woman said with a nod.

All the items purchased, bagged, and set in the car, he wiped off his hands, took off his mask, and headed home, smiling happily.

Walking into the house a few minutes later, he saw them all playing on the floor with the kitten, who was now a dry fluffy ball of excitement. She ran around, bouncing and chasing at Bella‘s tail and then the small ball of foil Scully must have made for her. Faith was laughing and crawling after the kitten, making meowing sounds as she did. Scully was laughing as Bella barked and pawed gently at the kitten.

“Hey… all you ladies,” he said with a laugh and Scully looked up at him with a grin. Bella bounded over, greeted him quickly, and ran back to the kitten.

“Did you get everything?” Scully asked, standing to her feet.

“And then some,” he said with a smile. “She’s a cute little thing.” He watched the kitten raise a paw to Faith and slowly touch her foot as Faith giggled.

“She is. Feisty too,” Scully agreed and he looked at her.

“Of course she is. I wouldn’t have expected anything less from any woman in this house.” She laughed and nodded. “I’m going to take everything out of the car, wipe it all down, bring it inside, and change my clothes.

“Okay. I’ll get some brunch ready since our morning was sort of hijacked.”

“In the best possible way,” he said with another smile. “It just started raining on my way home, too. If I hadn’t been out there when I was, I might not have found her.”

“Fate intervened then,” she said with a smile and he nodded happily.

“Okay, you take care of brunch. I’ve got this.”

Forty five minutes later, they were at the table eating waffles and bacon. Faith was eating a banana, Bella was eating her own breakfast, and the kitten was eating as well. They gave her just a little bit at first, not knowing how long it had been since she had eaten and not wanting to fill her tummy up too quickly.

“Cat,” Faith said, pointing at the kitten as she ate. She smiled and put more bananas in her mouth. Mulder laughed and watched the kitten, so small as she ate out of her large food bowl.

“How old do you think she is?” he asked and Scully shook her head.

“Can’t be more than ten weeks. Poor thing, must’ve lost her mom. Maybe in the rain last night, or possibly even before.” She sighed and he squeezed her hand with an understanding smile.

When they were finished, they watched the kitten playing until she climbed to the top of her scratching post/climbing toy and fell asleep. Taking the cue from the kitten, Mulder carried Faith upstairs for her own much needed nap.

“Cat,” she said, as he placed her in her crib, her eyes heavy with sleep.

“Yes, Love, the cat is downstairs. You’ll see her later. Trust me, she’s not going anywhere.” He kissed the top of her head as she yawned and laid down, reaching for her stuffed pink Easter bunny. “Good night, Love, have a good nap.”

Turning on her sound machine and setting the fan on low, he walked out and closed the door. Downstairs, he found Scully sitting on the couch, her eyes closed, the kitten now held like a baby in the rainbow fleece blanket he had brought down earlier.

Sitting down next to her, he smiled as he saw the kitten sleeping peacefully on her back, her front legs stretched straight up beside her. Bella was asleep at Scully’s feet, the morning's excitement seeming to take its toll on all of them. He knew Scully was not asleep, not quite yet anyway.

“I’m sorry that Father’s Day was kind of ruined,” she said softly and he looked at her in surprise.

“Ruined? Not in the slightest, just like I told you earlier.” He kissed the top of her head and she sighed.

“Well, maybe not ruined, but… definitely not the day I had planned. Like I said, it was going to be a scavenger hunt leading to your big gift. I had an image in my mind about how it would go, but… it’s still raining and so we’ll have to put a pause on it. I should have made sure, but…”

“Scully, what did we do for Mother’s Day? A picnic and hanging out here? It’s what we’ve been doing almost every day for months now. It wasn’t a special trip out like we did last year, but did it make the day any less special?” he asked her quietly.

“No. But, Mulder, at least it was something.”

“And the adventure of finding an orphaned kitten under our porch? That’s not something?”

“Hmm. Well, when you put it that way…”

They were quiet for a few minutes and he thought she may have fallen asleep until she sighed deeply.

“I know you have some gift, undoubtedly something I’ll love, but like I said already, I don’t need any gifts, Scully,” he whispered. “I really do have all that I need right here under this roof.”

“Cheesy,” she whispered back, moving closer to snuggle against him.

“Hmm,” he agreed, feeling very tired himself, as he put his arm around her, pulling her close. “There’s always my birthday. I don’t mind waiting.”

“That’s months away. Don’t be silly. I do have something for you, for the interim, but it’s on the kitchen table, and it’s just so far away. Also, I’m holding this sweet sleeping kitten while our dog is sleeping at my feet. I’m obviously meant to stay right here.” He chuckled softly and closed his eyes, leaning his head back on the couch as she sighed sleepily and he smiled.

“We can get it later,” he breathed and he felt her nod slightly and settle closer to him.

Within minutes, they were both asleep, the rain falling softly and steadily outside. Bella whined in her sleep and the kitten began to purr as she moved and snuggled further into the cozy blanket. Faith hummed through the monitor as Mulder gave a little snore, and Scully sighed peacefully beside him.

Yes, the interim gift on the kitchen table could wait, as could the original one. For now, they were content to be together. The day may not have been experienced with extensive plans and outings, but they had all been together.

And that was all that truly mattered.

#the x files #xfiles fanfic #Father's Day #Happy Family #Family Fluff #love #happiness #Happy Fluff #holiday #new family member #love and humor

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ngame989 · 4 years

Text

“Friends” - TGG SVTFOE Fanfic Collection Ch. 12

Writing: @ngame989

Art: @toxicpsychox

Editing: @ubercelloczar, @seddm

Alternate fic links - FFnet, AO3

Summary: Ludo needs help making friends and turns to Star and Marco for help, but things quickly spiral out of their control.

Comic Page

Masterpost

It's been an incredibly trying month for me and I'm unsure about a lot of things in my personal life now, but this isn't one of them. I'm so happy to finally be getting back to my feet so I can make more of the Starco content I want the world to see. Hope you enjoy, and thanks for your patience. (Also, fair warning, there’s one ever so slightly steamy Starco scene here)

“Have you ever wondered why heart thingies are hearts?” Marco stopped chewing on a bite of his burrito as he turned his full attention to Star. It wasn’t the most confusing thing she’d ever said, but it was up there. “Like, why does this symbol mean hearts and love and stuff?” she clarified, holding up a piece of heart-shaped candy from the post-Valentine’s Day shopping spree Eclipsa had taken her on weeks ago.

“Dunno,” he responded. “Maybe it’s what people used to think hearts looked like or something.”

“None of the hearts I’ve seen on hunting trips with Dad ever looked like this. Although one was made of chocolate.” She shrugged and popped the treat into her mouth, dumping some more from the bag into her mouth soon after. Her cheeks were puffed out, stretching her heart marks wide and Marco couldn’t help but giggle at the sight. “What?” she mumbled, still chewing. He pantomimed the sight in front of him, pointing to his own puffed-up cheeks. Star quickly grabbed two more candies, licking the backs of them before sticking them to Marco’s face, smiling quite smugly at her handiwork. “Now we’re heart twinsies!” She scooted around the table next to him and leaned in, snapping a selfie. “The kids will love this one.”

He swallowed the last bite of his burrito, thanking the heavens for the new Taco Baco location on campus. The other food options there were… lacking, to say the least.

“The Valentine’s Day Chocopalooza was a smash hit, but I have no clue how to follow it! I can’t have peaked after half a year, Marco!” The memories came flooding back: brownie batter as far as the eye could see, melted chocolate inflicting its goopy wrath on every surface in the kitchen, and so much frosting that he still didn’t want to even look at the stuff.

“I think they just like spending time with you. You’re really good with kids, Star. Besides, the only other holiday coming up is Easter, and you’re terrified of it.”

“It has a giant rabbit that lays eggs, Marco! How do you not see how horrifying that is?”

A loud cough from the bushes behind them might normally have only caught Marco’s attention for a passing moment, but another voice frantically shushed it. “Dennis, quiet! The giant bunny schtick is too good!”

“Ludo?” Star and Marco said in unison.

“Hello, Star and Marco!” Ludo exclaimed with an emphatic wave. “So wonderful to see you again! How’s your kid?”

“She’s not… she’s fine,” Marco relented, estimating that it wouldn’t be worth the hassle. “So… how’s it going?”

“Things are fine, family’s good. Bird and Spider told me to say hello.” He seemed even twitchier than Marco remembered. Dennis prodded his brother with a wing, clearly trying to be surreptitious about it and failing spectacularly. “Ahem, well, there is one teensy tiny issue… I ran into Bearnicorn a few days ago. I totally froze up! Things were pretty awkward last time I saw the whole gang and I think I’m finally ready to try again, but I have no idea how to do that. You might not know this, but I have some issues getting over things,” he stated earnestly. Star and Marco exchanged a bewildered glance - he couldn’t be serious, right? Wait, what were they thinking, Ludo could totally say something like that seriously. Ludo took a deep breath and continued, “But Dennis suggested that I come to you two for help, since I had actually managed to work everything out with you.”

Star munched on another chocolate heart as she mulled over what he was saying. “So you want our help to… make friends?”

The edges of his beak-mouth turned up in an ecstatic smile. “I would like that very much!”

***

“You’re sure about this, Star?”

“He’s not hurting anything, Mom.” Star didn’t glance up from the piles of clothing she was rummaging through at the sound of her mom’s wary question; it wasn’t an unfair one, considering the history involved. Even though he was friendly now, Ludo was too much of a wildcard to completely discount as harmless. Still, though, Star saw no reason to suspect any tricks up his sleeve (though there were probably some bugs there). The nostalgia of reconnecting with Ludo was oddly calming for Star, and considering how quickly Marco agreed to help Ludo with his issues, despite the craziness of midterms approaching, she guessed he felt the same. Drawer after drawer bore no fruit in her quest to find the sweater for Marco’s all-important psychology ensemble - the book and glasses had already been secured.

“Though I didn’t say anything, I admit I was initially hesitant about you two sharing living quarters like this, but I must say Marco’s organizational skills seemed to have rubbed off on you,” Moon said with a snicker. She bent down and checked under the bed, pulling out stray bags of cereal and bottles of soda that Star recognized from her and Marco’s late night movie marathons slash cuddle sessions. “...somewhat.”

Think Star, think! When was the last time you saw that dang sweater? Let’s see… he wore it on our Valentine’s Day date so it can’t be that hidden - it was a bit snug on him which made it extra adorably handsome. He’d said he’d wear it more if I wanted, and I fell over laughing when he wore it just last weekend before we… oh corn. Star now recalled where the sweater would almost certainly be as a wave of horror washed over her. She slammed the dresser drawer and whipped around for a mad dash to the nightstand, where- pegasus feathers. Moon had just found the sweater, which was great, and with it was the exact last box she wanted anyone else (and especially her mom) to find, which was... greeeeeeat. Star generally felt she had a solid, trusting bond with her mother, but she’d never been - and still wasn’t - the first person Star blabbed to about her personal affairs.

“Mom, I can explain-”

“Star, sweetie, I’m not upset. What you do with Marco is none of my business, you’re a grown young woman who is more than capable of making her own decisions. If anything I’m simply relieved that you’re taking such sane precautions. I may be old, but I’m not ready to earn my place in the Grandma Room quite yet.” Despite her embarrassment, Star had to admit she was eased by her mom’s understanding,. “And don’t worry,” Moon said softly, “I’ll handle the subject with your father for you, if you’d like.” And just like that, any comfort was washed away by a tidal wave of beet-red cheeks and incoherent sputtering.

Marco poked his head in, causing Star to yelp and jump off the bed. “Hey, you almost ready?”

“Yep! Totally, totally, totally ready and not discussing anything about our personal lives with mom!”

“Uh-huh…” Marco responded. “Well, I’m ready down there if you are. Oh hey, there’s my sweater. Good, we’ll need it... I, uh think we have our work cut out for us.”

Star was worried, but also kinda happy to have an excuse to leave the current conversation as soon as Mewmanly possible. She handed the sweater from her mom to Marco, who put it on as they walked downstairs to where Ludo was curiously poking around the living room.

“Oh, hello Star! I was just admiring your lovely castle. Bit small for my tastes, but what do I know, haha!”

“Yeeeeeeah…” She then leaned over to whisper to Marco. “So, like, what did he say so far?”

“He said that he tried practicing talking to people with garbage dolls.”

“Weird.”

“I don’t even know where to start, really.”

“Hey Ludo,” Star called out, walking over and sitting on the couch next to him. “So, bud, whatcha need us for here, exactly?”

“Ah, yes, well… I’d like to be able to talk to my old friends again without being their boss. You know, the whole scheming to defeat you… steal the wand… take over Mewni and rule it with an IRON FIST-” He had gotten so worked up that he was on his feet jumping up and down on the couch, but stopped and took a deep breath before chuckling. “Aha, see, there it is again! It’s usually not like this, it’s been months since I’ve even once brought up the wand in a game of cha-rads…”

Yeah, this might be a liiiiiiittle tricky. She tented her fingers as she came up with a plan. Could I… nah. Would it…? Mmm, no go. Wait, Star, duh! “ Alright, Ludo, it’s time for some patented psychomological work from Star Butterfly, H.P.D. We need to see what’s going on in your head.”

“Ooo, sounds fun! So for starters I think there’s some lice-”

“No, no,” she responded calmly, “I mean we need to find what’s making you tick.”

“Yup, I’ve got ticks too!”

Marco put a hand on her shoulder, his worried expression clear even to her peripheral vision. “Are you sure he should be in the same house as Mari-”

“Not now, Marco,” Star hissed, swatting his hand away while keeping her gaze trained on Ludo. “Why are you having trouble talking to your old friends again? What’s the first thing that comes to mind when I say ‘Boo Fly’?”

“Messenger.”

“Buff Frog?”

“Excellent spy.”

“Lobster Claws?”

“Putting his claws on the wand- oh, wait, I see now! This is like cha-rads but with just words! You almost got me!”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re getting it! OK, one more… Toffee.”

“Candy! It’s so delectable with chocolate-”

“You know what, that one’s probably for the best,” Star murmured. “Well, Ludo, it seems to me like your biggest problem is that you aren’t even thinking about your old crew as regular people. Try this. Think of doing something you’d normally do with your brother.”

“Picking the worms out of our feathers to eat-”

“Yeah, no,” Star cut him off. She wanted to help, she really did, but she had a million other things on her mind and now was just not a great time for endless Ludo shenanigans. “I was thinking something less gross…”

“Basketball?” he cheerily offered.

“Sure. Imagine yourself playing basketball with your brother…” She paused a moment as he started miming out dribbling in his seat. “Now imagine doing the same exact thing but with Bearnicorn there instead of your brother.” His arms twitched a bit.

“Keep dribbling, man!” Marco called out encouragingly. Ludo shut his eyes in concentration and after a moment got back into his awkward, gawkish basketball form.

Ludo’s bulbous eyes snapped back open, frantic with glee. “Aha, yes! I think I see it now! Oh, thank you, Star and Marco! I’m off to go find my friends again!” With that, he bolted out the front door and scurried down the road until he was out of sight.

“You think that’ll work?” Star asked hopefully.

Marco sighed and hugged her from behind. “Not a chance.”

***

“Alright, we have a few minutes left in class so if anyone has any questions on the graded midterms I just passed back, let me know. Otherwise you’re free to leave. Have a good weekend!”

Marco hunched over in his chair as he quickly scanned through the multiple choice questions and short answers. A few stupid mistakes here and there, but still an A - he’d even gotten a smiley face next to his essay assessing some example personality type or another. All in all, things felt right. Karate, sword-fighting, and adventuring were important to him but he’d always felt the most fulfilled helping others with their problems - psychology just seemed right.

A high-pitched, squawking voice interrupted him. “Hey, dude, what did you get for number 12?” Marco looked up at another student - Matt, if he was remembering correctly - who was hovering over him at an uncomfortably close distance. Even with how much life had changed in the past few years, his academic reputation stayed the same.

“Uh, C,” Marco responded absentmindedly.

“Oh, that makes sense. And what about 13?”

“B.”

“And… 14 through 35.”

“Just talk to Mrs. B, man,” Marco irritatedly replied, shaking his head. Normally he enjoyed helping classmates if he could, but he had promised Star he’d helm the planning for the daycare’s Easter party on account of her phobia - well, that, and he’d heard Matt bragging about how he’d blown off studying to play the new Super Slash Sisters game all night long. He looked back down to check over one last page and grinned to himself. The final essay prompt hadn’t been for a grade, but instead asked a simpler question: Why are you here? Without context, it might have seemed odd or downright rude, but the teacher had spent the first few months of the semester encouraging all the students to reflect on their goals and what they hoped to gain from the psychology program. The blunt prompt had caught him off guard, but after realizing what it was asking, he’d spent probably about as much time as he had on the rest of the exam combined describing his experiences and motivations on Mewni that drove him to help and support others.

Of course, he couldn’t help but talk about Star at length as part of that. His adorable, brave, compassionate best friend that inspired him to be more. Where would he even be now without her? He could still be at college, he supposed, but that wasn’t saying much. It was humorous to imagine: waking up, being driven to college by his mom, waving hello to Jackie every day (his foolproof plan to woo her had involved eventually moving past nodding, after all), getting straight As, working fruitlessly towards a red belt after classes, then… what? The world had so much more to offer him, and vice versa, and Star was the one who’d helped him realize that. The words had just flowed right out of his pen, paragraphs and paragraphs of glowing praise and affection, enough to leave his chest feeling as warm as it did when she was physically there.

“Hey, Marco, I have a question-”

Stirred from his contemplative state, Marco wheeled on the figure that had just tapped him on the shoulder, ready to tell Matt off for interrup- oh.

“Ludo? What are you doing here?”

“Oh, well, I was in the neighborhood and I thought I’d just drop in! But also, please help me. I did what you said but then I dribbled Boo Fly on the ground and he got really upset and-”

Marco sighed. Hope Star’s fine with me being late.

***

Most days, Star loved everything about her job. It was hard work, but it was so satisfying bringing smiles and warmth to the faces of the kids in her care and seeing them light up with stories to tell their families at the end of each day. Her hours were flexible, she got to spend time with Marco, and Antonio was a wonderful boss.

Today, however, was not most days.

Of freaking course Easter was Antonio’s favorite holiday.

The kids seemed to be enjoying his antics as he pranced around in a bunny costume, but for the life of her she just couldn’t understand why. Is it a normal rabbit or a person-sized one? No one even seems to know what it is! Does it lay bird eggs or rabbit eggs? Both are pretty horrifying if you ask me! If you get chocolate eggs in your Easter basket, does it lay them too? I’m not eating any soft brown rabbit droppings, Marco! They didn’t even get any days off for it, so Star was convinced the best thing to do was ignore its existence as a holiday entirely. Her incredibly valid concerns had largely been met with amusement, even by Marco, but Antonio had at least offered to let her keep her distance and work behind-the-scenes for the party they had planned, which was now going on in the main playroom.

Packing baskets with candy was easy enough. Chocolate, gummies, cookies, donuts. Candy corn for the humans and candied corn for the Mewmans - as much as the humans liked Mewman corn, they hadn’t quite accepted it as a valid dessert yet. There were a few special ones marked down as well. Some marshmallow mice for the Septarians, a ribeye steak for the Johansen - her third cousin or something like that, she wasn’t even sure exactly whose kid he was - and some dried bugs for the kappas… wait, since when were there any kappas at the daycare? She yanked the full list out from underneath the pile of sweets and quickly scanned it. 105? Aren’t there only 104 kids in the program this semester?

She almost missed it at the very top of the list: “Manudo Avarius”. She vaguely remembered hearing about a sibling with that name at some point… maybe they just joined? Something still seemed off to Star but she pushed it aside and finished the last of the baskets just in time for the end of the party. As the kids left, Star cheerfully handed out the baskets to the tune of joyous squeals from the kids and careful warnings from the parents to not eat too much at once. Pffftt, come on, I eat cake for breakfast and I turned out fine!

Curiously, she hadn’t spotted anyone that resembled Ludo yet even as the remaining crowd dwindled to almost nothing. Antonio had already begun to put away decorations when she finally spotted the figure, taking the basket over to them. But when they turned around, showing a braided beard… oh pegasus feathers.

“Star Butterfly! So good to see you again.”

“Hey Ludo,” she said. “Are you picking up Manudo?”

“Why would Menudo be here?”

“Well the paper said Manudo-”

“No, no, that’s not how it’s spelled, but besides, I’m here by myself. A large man with a magnificent beard asked me for my name and told me I was missing a party with lots of sweets! He kept calling me a child and I said I was a man and that my name was Ludo, but who cares when there’s free chips, am I right?” He reached into one of the five chip bags in his arms and stuffed a handful into his beak.

Man-udo. Dangit, Antonio. “So… good to see you, but what brings you here?”

“Well, I talked to Marco just the other day because it still just wasn’t working, but then I tried something else and that still didn’t work, so now I need your help again. It all started on Tuesday-”

Star slumped down into a beanbag chair and reached into the basket, deftly avoiding the bugs as she searched for cookies to nibble on. This is going to be a while.

***

“So what did you say this place was?” Tom asked as he glanced around the restaurant. The vibrant cherry-red booths and soulful singer crooning over the speakers created a very different atmosphere than anything in the Underworld, but he liked it.

Sitting across from him, Marco downed another fry and took a sip of his water before responding. “Diners are the best places to go for comfort food. Burgers, onion rings, waffles, all that kinda stuff. Emilio’s is the best in town.”

Next to Marco, Star was wolfing down onion rings by the handful. “The secret is that he hired a bunch of Eclipsa’s old chefs, so they make great Mewman and monster food too. Don’t tell Mom but their Mewnipendence Day pies are the best I’ve ever had - though they don’t call it that anymore.” She was still chewing when she spoke, but after so many years of knowing Star he had no trouble understanding her garbled words. “It’s really cool that Emilio was able to get back on his feet after the incident.”

“What incident?” Tom asked, eliciting an irritated groan from Marco.

“So basically, a few years ago, Ponyhead and I-”

“Oh boy, a Ponyhead story,” Janna sarcastically said, rolling her eyes, and Tom elbowed her side.

An older man with olive skin approached the table. ““Does everything taste alright? If your dining experience isn’t absolutely perfect, please let me know, I can get you anything. More to drink, dessert, maybe some mushrooms...”

“It’s great, Emilio,” Marco mumbled.

“Good, good…” Emilio was smiling a bit too hard as he backed away, his eyes lingering on Marco’s meal.

Marco caught Tom’s curious gaze and buried his head in his hands. “Look, it’s a long story. There was this pizza, then spiraling alcoholism, then a bit of arson…”

Janna’s hand, resting on Tom’s leg, unconsciously twitched as she perked up. “Woah, OK, now I actually do want to hear this.”

“Too late, no take backs.”

“Aww, you’re no fun.”

“So anyway, we picked the restaurant this time so have you two decided what we’re doing after?” Oh crud, we forgot to plan. Tom’s initial instinct was to claim a beginner’s mistake, since it was only the second of their monthly double dates and their first time planning the after-dinner entertainment… except the actual reason was that he and Janna happened to get into their first major makeout session the night they had set aside for planning, burning thoughts of accomplishing anything else to a crisp in the process. Star and Marco were the last people that would be squicked out by romantic affection- that wasn’t the problem. After years of slacking on responsibilities and having any kind of social life at all in a misguided attempt to chase after Star, he couldn’t help but feel extra guilty over this specific lapse.

Janna leaned in, whispering in his ear. “Can’t we just hit up the Sands of Eternal Torment?”

“For the tenth time, Jan, no,” he hissed through his teeth. “There’s, like, a 25% chance you’d all have your souls violently ripped from your bodies.”

“Only 25? Ew, nevermind, just let them pick.” She leaned in even closer, her breath hot in his ear. “If it’s somewhere boring, we could always just sneak away and-”

“Good evening!” Tom squeaked and quickly turned his head at the sudden boisterous call from his other side, almost smacking Janna in the temple with his horn in the process. It was an incredibly short bird creature with a thick grey beard - a kappa, if Tom was remembering correctly. It wasn’t their same waiter from before, but hey, what did he know about how Earth restaurants worked?

Tom held out his glass, but the supposed waiter ignored it. “Yeah, can I have a refill on the demonade, please?” Star and Marco glanced over at the waiter, their eyes opening wide before they both groaned and smacked their faces on the table in unison. Alright, maybe he’s not a waiter then.

***

“Star...” Marco uttered. Star removed her wandering lips from his neck and propped herself up to look lovingly at him, shivering slightly as she abandoned the warmth of his bare skin. It had been probably over a year now since they’d first become more intimate like this, but the fire still burned just as hot. Heck, it was better now than those first forays, Star reckoned; with time came confidence and experience that let them enjoy themselves and each other to the absolute fullest. They’d both had busy lives the last few months or so, and with the end of the semester fast approaching Star knew they would be even busier soon, but none of that seemed to matter in this time they’d taken for themselves. Even after a break for a shower and snacks, their present cozy state under the blanket with nothing between them still felt as radiant as any proper afterglow could.

“Mhmm?” A devious thought crossed her mind, but she tried her best to feign innocence as she slowly slithered down his body, leaving fiery trails of kisses down his chest and sweet, sweet abs.

“Not that I don’t like, you know, doing this but I don’t, uh, know if I have it in me for another rouuuuuuuu-” His voice shot up an octave and his whole body jolted as she blew raspberries on his belly button and snuck her arms up to tickle around his armpits. “Star, please- I can’t- I’m- can’t breathe-” he sputtered out between hysterical bouts of laughter.

She was laughing too by the time his flailing pushed her off of him. Before he’d even collected himself, he lunged forward, trying to catch her with a determined-but-still-goofy grin on his face. Star dodged and backed away from the bed entirely as Marco grasped at her limbs. He finally gave up, lying on his stomach while resting his head on his chin and staring up at her. Even though his tush was right there for the ogling, Star was instead captivated by his enamored gaze and dopey smile.

“Dangit, Marco, you know I can’t resist that look,” she huffed, allowing him to take her hands and pull her next to him on the bed.

“I know,” he said smugly. “You’re not the only one who can weaponize being all lovey dovey.”

“The student has become the master,” she quipped, their hands still joined between them as they lay on their sides.

“But I do mean it, Star. I love every single part of you, and that’s not gonna change. Things have been hectic lately for both of us, but stuff with the daycare, what you want to do for a living, Ludo… we can figure that all out. Just reach into your pocket if you need me.”

She gently patted his head, running her fingers through his freshly shampooed hair. It was alluring to smell, to hold, to feel brushing up against her. Though the problems they faced now were of a different kind than the forces of evil that they’d spent their earlier years tackling, his presence was still what she needed most to ground her and make everything feel alright. Her face dipped in for a kiss, initially short and sweet but quickly succumbing to a familiar hunger. She pounced on him but miscalculated her momentum, rolling the whole way over him and pulling him with her so he lay on top. Not complaining, she thought as she hugged him close and indulged in the sensory bliss of his skin on hers.

He lightly rested his forehead on hers. “Do you, um, mind if we maybe don’t, y’know…” he trailed off sheepishly.

“Marco,” she crooned, holding his face in her hands. “How many times do I have to say it: I don’t want to do anything if you’re not comfortable with it.”

“I-I can try that, um, thing again, though, instead if- if you want?” Oh sweet, sweet Marco. Even after years together, he still couldn’t rest until he was sure he’d done everything he could for her.

“Yeah,” she implored, breathy with the mounting anticipation as he began a trail of kisses downward.

“What thing are you two talking about?” Time seemed to stop as any building pleasure completely evaporated. Marco grabbed the crumpled bedsheet and pulled it over the two of them as the couple stared at the window in complete incredulity to where Ludo was standing on a flapping Dennis’s back. “Well, anyway, I need some more advice-”

“GET. OUT!”

***

Marco rested his chin in his hands while Star paced in front of him. Three months. Three months of Ludo showing up at the most inopportune times, three months of Star trying and failing to feel satisfied with her efforts at the daycare, three months of a semester so intense that they were both at their wit’s end with all of it. Ludo had once again come to the college for advice after his 26th attempt to regain his old friends failed just as catastrophically as the previous 25. He was persistent, Marco had to give him that, and the old monster crew had even been pretty supportive when Star and Marco had tracked them down themselves and explained the situation. The issue seemed to be entirely from within Ludo’s own mind, which made it a dozen times harder to solve. It was the last day of the semester and they’d been haunted by thoughts of every minute of summer vacation spent throwing themselves at the brick wall of Ludo’s psyche, so they’d made a pact that today was all or nothing. Neither wanted to ditch Ludo, he wasn’t a bad guy, but enough was enough.

“Any ideas?” Star piped up, sounding entirely lost and uncertain as her gaze kept nervously darting over to Ludo who was brushing his beard and snacking on its droppings in the empty playroom. “We’ve tried psychology, reverse psychology, pep talks, reverse reverse psychology, all-you-can-eat chips, ygolohscysp-”

“Which still isn’t a thing,” Marco interrupted.

“Well I’m sorry, I’m not the one with a fancy degree, Marco!” she growled, tossing her arms out. “Ugh, sorry, this is just so frustrating. Doesn’t he have, like, a thousand brothers and sisters he could hang out with? If he can’t relax around the monsters, why does he always have to pester us when he could-” Her pacing instantly halted as her eyes opened wide. “Oh crud.”

He stood up and placed a hand on her shoulder reassuringly, unsure whether her apparent epiphany was a good or bad thing. “Star?”

“He came to us for help becoming comfortable around his old pals again because he already was comfortable around us.”

“Way too comfortable,” Marco muttered with a wince that Star mirrored. They were still a little bit traumatized from the shower incident. “But that means-”

“He never needed his monster pals, he just needed… friends,” she said just as he had the revelation on his own.

Marco smacked his forehead and sighed. “And he spent so much time fixating on this one thing, and we spent so much time just trying to solve his problem and shove him out the door, that we never tried just… being his friends.”

They both looked through the little window into the playroom, where Ludo saw them and waved with a giant smile.

Star buried her face in her hands, messing up her hair like she was prone to do whenever she was feeling frazzled. “Ugh, I feel terrible.”

“Same, but… we can’t be his only friends, though. I feel bad for him, but I don’t know if I have it in me to be his BFF.”

“You’re right, you’re right, but who else could even handle that? Who? The guy’s so hyper and weird, ugh, he reminds me of me as a kid, except way less cute.”

“...a kid.” They both mumbled simultaneously. It was as if a single lightbulb had gone off above both of them at once as all the pieces fell into place. “That’s it!”

Star bolted out the door to gather the handful of children that hadn’t been picked up yet while Marco got Ludo. A few minutes later, they met up at the rec center basketball court where Antonio helped them set up some kid-sized hoops. It took a bit of coaxing, but after a few minutes Ludo was having the time of his life tossing the ball around. The kids seemed to enjoy it, too, as he regaled them with tales of his adventures on Earth (and a few about a space princess with a cyclops and robot for friends that Marco was pretty sure he made up). Star and Marco had joined for a few games but both decided to just step back and watch from the bleachers for a while.

As they observed the scene, listening to the ecstatic wails of everyone on the court as they ran around with the ball, there was a smile on Star’s face that was more content than Marco had seen in a while. “See? You made their whole week just by giving them someone fun to play with,” Marco said, lacing his fingers through her hand. “They like you a lot more than they like balloons and candy.”

“Even I don’t need candy with you here being so sweet,” she cooed, nuzzling into his shoulder, neither taking their eyes off the courts. Ludo passed the ball to Trevor, who spun around and passed it back in a fluid motion that allowed Ludo to score. The blissful, carefree sight was soothing after the intensity of Marco’s life lately. Just some kids and a small bird man having fun playing a game together… life didn’t always have to be so complicated. The serene moment abruptly ended when Ludo’s beak caught on the rim, leaving him dangling above the ground and shrieking for help. As Star squeezed Marco’s hand, sighed, and stood up to go help the poor kappa, Marco knew it could never be truly simple either.

#starco #svtfoe #star vs the forces of evil #tgg svtfoe #jantom

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nicos-oc-hell · 3 years

Text

Am I posting this at 11:40 pm? Yes but that’s besides the point! Like Rowan on Valentines Day, Dimitri will force the gang (Chiara, Bill, Barnaby, Rowan, Charlie and Roman) to get dressed and they sneak out the castle because Dimitri wants to eat at a restaurant

Bill sat down at the Slytherin table next to Roman and glared at Roman who was laughing at his outfit “He put BUNNIES on the suit! How come I’m the only one with bunnies?!”

Dimitri shrugged “You and Rowan both have bunnies, Charlie and Roman both have eggs, Barnaby and I both have…regular matching outfits because I couldn’t think of any thing for Easter and Chiara made it very clear that she wasn’t wearing a suit this time, she basically threatened me!”

Barnaby and Dimitri

Rowan and Bill, imagine this with white bunnies on it

Charlie and Roman, this with Easter eggs on it

Chiara

Rowan laughed at Bill “I honestly look nice in a suit! It makes my butt look gorgeous!”

Bill glared at her and stole Dimitri’s plate of food “HEY! Why do y’all always steal my food!? Just ask me to pass you some of the damn food!”

They all laughed and continued eating ignoring the Slytherins who were glaring at the two Gryffindors at their table. At the end of breakfast the four head of houses and Dumbledore came up to them with Snape glaring at Dimitri nodding his head to Mcgonagall’s smug face

“And what do we have here? House unity?” Dumbledore said and Snape muttered something underneath his breath ‘It’s not like they do this every single fucking day but yeah you know, let’s notice something that has been happening for the past 2 fucking years’

Dimitri snickered and handed Snape a bag “Chocolate for your time of the- never mind and snickerdoodle cookies!”

“You still aren’t getting out of detention Di Angelo, especially with that comment you just made” Snape said taking the bag from him “But thanks” He adder after Flitwick stomped on his foot for not saying thanks

Dimitri got out of the car with a very smug look on his face “And that’s why we let me pick where we eat! Roman doesn’t have that good of a taste like I do”

Roman rolled his eyes and nodded towards the receptionist who rushed over them over to a table “Bill don’t you say a damn thing”

Bill raised his hands up and sat down “Wasn’t going to say anything…except that you are rich as fuck and that you didn’t even have to wait for a table” He looked over at Dimitri who was laughing “Shut up, you were born with a golden spoon in your mouth”

“Silver”

“…shut up”

“Just saying it was more of a silver spoon…who the hell owns a golden spoon anyway?! Like why is that even a saying?”

“It’s for rich spoiled brats” Chiara said

“I’m rich but I’m not a spoiled brat”

“How many pets were you allowed to keep?” Charlie asked ganging up on him

“I don’t know like seven I think” He started counting on his fingers about how many animals he had “Yeah 7”

“Spoiled, how many did you beg to keep?” Bill asked

“Why does that matter?” Dimitri asked glaring at Rowan who was snickering next to him

“Just answer the damn question” Charlie said

“Like 3 of them” Dimitri said after thinking for awhile

“Brat, rich spoiled brat” Barnaby concluded

“Fuck. All. Of. You”

#dimitri di angelo #hphm au #hphm mc #hphm oc #charlie weasley #rowan khanna #barnaby lee #bill weasley #roman rokudo #chiara lobosca #happy easter

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hanji-zoe103 · 4 years

Text

Happy Easter!!

“Levi!” Hanji called.

“What?” Levi replied.

“It’s Easter! We should do something!” Hanji said.

“Why? It’s a holiday for children,” Levi replied.

He did have a point. Easter, was mainly for hiding candy filled eggs for children to find. What were two grown ass adults going to do?

“Well we could have our own egg hunt or make Easter baskets!” Hanji said.

“I’m not too big a fan of sweets,” Levi replied.

Hanji flopped on his lap.

“You’re no fun!” she whined.

“We aren’t children idiot,” Levi replied.

Hanji pouted and had little tears in her eyes.

“Okay! Fine!” Levi said.

“What do you want to do?”

“Well, let’s get a basket of candy and then we can cuddle on the couch and watch a movie!” Hanji replied.

“….All right,” Levi said.

“But LIMIT your sugar intake.”

“Come on! It’s one of the few days where I can splurge on eating candy or chocolate!” Hanji whined.

“Okay, okay!” Levi said.

“But only for today.”

“Yahoooo!” Hanji exclaimed.

Levi smiled slightly. He liked seeing her happy. Hanji grabbed her jacket and purse.

“Where are you going? I thought we had Easter fun to do?” Levi asked.

“I need to get some Easter candy and chocolate bunnies and baskets!” Hanji said.

“I’ll be back before you know it!”

Levi looked in the freezer.

“While you’re there, can you pick up some strawberry cheesecake ice cream?” he asked.

Hanji blinked and stared at him.

“You like THAT flavor of ice cream?” she asked rather surprised.

“Yes,” Levi replied.

“That’s interesting…” Hanji muttered.

“What are you mumbling about?” Levi said.

“Just never took you for a strawberry cheesecake type person, especially in ice cream,” Hanji replied.

“I bought it on a whim thinking that it was a weird flavor you might like,” Levi said.

“It was like 3AM one night and I had a craving for something sweet, yet the only thing we had was that ice cream. Figured might as well try it and turned out it wasn’t terrible. I still prefer a more simple one but if we’re going to have a movie night, thought we could have that ice cream.”

Hanji kissed his cheek.

“You’re too cute,” she said.

“Tch, I’m not cute.” Levi grumbled, his cheeks a bit red.

“You are to me,” Hanji replied.

“I’ll be back soon!”

She grabbed her car keys and headed out. Levi made some tea and sat at the table.

----------

Hanji walked about the store gathering what she needed. Her basket was full of sweet goodies, two Easter baskets, and a card for Levi. She headed over to the frozen section. Hanji carefully scanned the ice cream section but there was hardly any left.

“Excuse me,” she called to a worker.

“How can I help miss?” they asked.

“Well, I was looking for a strawberry cheesecake ice cream but I don’t see it. Do you have any by chance?” Hanji replied.

“Ah, sorry. Our freezer had a malfunction yesterday and we had to throw out almost all of our products due to them thawing,” the worker said.

“We’ll be fully stocked by next week though.”

“Ah, I see, well thank you,” Hanji replied.

She started to go towards checkout.

----------

Levi was reading a book when his phone rang.

“Hello,” he answered.

“Hey Levi!” Hanji replied.

“Everything all right?” Levi asked.

Hanji didn’t call him too often so it worried him a bit.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Hanji replied.

“Just calling to let you know that the store is all out of the ice cream you wanted.”

“No worries, I’ll just go get it,” Levi said.

“I can go to another store, I’m already out,” Hanji replied.

“No, it’s all right, gives me a chance to stretch my legs,” Levi said.

“If you’re sure you want to,” Hanji replied.

“Yeah I’ll get it,” Levi said.

“All right, see you at home later,” Hanji replied.

“See you at home,” Levi said.

He hung up and got ready to leave. Levi wanted to get Hanji a card and some flowers as well. He locked the house and headed out.

----------

Hanji stood in line, ready to get home. She hoped to set up before Levi got back. She felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Excuse me, but you dropped this,” a male said.

Hanji turned around. Behind her was a very tall and slim man who appeared to be well-built. He had short, coarse-looking dark hair that reached to his neck and a thin beard along his jawline. He looked to be a middle-aged man with wrinkles around his eyes, which were small and piercing. The man was wearing a simple white shirt with a black tie that wasn’t fully done up, and a large black overcoat that reached past his knees. He also had a bowler hat with a white band around it. His expression was weird, a scowl but he wasn’t talking as if he was annoyed.

“Oh, uh thanks,” Hanji replied.

She took the box of candy eggs from him.

“Shopping for someone special?” the man asked.

“My boyfriend and I are having a little Easter party tonight,” Hanji replied.

“Sounds fun,” the man replied.

“Well I hope you have a wonderful evening.”

He tipped his hat to her and walked off.

“Weird…” Hanji thought.

She got checked-out, paid and left. Hanji didn’t notice the shadow that followed her. She drove home and parked, glad to see that Levi was still out. She gathered all the bags and headed inside. Hanji tapped the door with her foot to close it; before it closed the shadow following her slipped in.

“Phew! Heavier load than I anticipated,” Hanji said.

She put away all the groceries and got her Easter baskets all ready to go. Her card for Levi and a special tea placed right in the front of his basket.

“Well that outta make a fine Easter basket but I got a better idea for a gift,” came a male voice.

Hanji spun around. Leaning casually against the wall was the man from the store.

“Who the heck are you?! How did you get into my house?!” Hanji demanded.

“Heh surprised Levi hasn’t mentioned me yet,” the man replied, casually walking towards her.

“Name’s Kenny, I’m his uncle. Also, it would be wise to make sure you’re not followed into your home while walking in.”

Hanji grabbed her phone and called Levi. Kenny grabbed it from her.

“Now, now, I don’t want ya’ ruining his surprise missy,” he said.

“Let go!” Hanji exclaimed.

“Calm yer’ yelling! I ain’t gonna do nothing bad,” Kenny said.

“You broke into my house and now are holding me captive!” Hanji replied.

“Broke into your house yes, the captive part, no!” Kenny said.

“All I’m doing is dressing ya’ up for your boyfriend.”

----------

“Hanji, I’m home,” Levi said walking inside.

He heard a thud and running footsteps.

“Hanji?” Levi said.

He put the bag of ice cream and other items on the counter. More noises came from the living room.

“Hanji what’s going on?” Levi asked as he headed over there.

“D-don’t come in here!” Hanji replied.

Levi continued on in. Right as he walked in, Hanji was running about trying to find a place to hide.

“D-don’t look! It’s embarrassing!” she exclaimed.

Levi froze dead in his steps. There she was, standing in the middle of the room in a bunny suit, ears, tail, black stockings and black heels. This wasn’t your average idea of a bunny suit; this was a full on Playboy-esque bunny suit. Purple velvet for the main torso part, white and pale pink on the ears, the tail was white as well.

“What happened?” Levi asked.

“S-some creep came in here and forcibly dressed me in this! Then dumped all my clothes in the mud so I had nothing to change into!” Hanji replied.

“WHO was in our house?” Levi said.

“Said his name was Kenny, your uncle…” Hanji replied, doing her best to try and cover herself.

“That pervert tch.” Levi grumbled.

“C-can you not look?” Hanji asked her face red.

“Hang here for a minute,” Levi replied.

He left. Several minutes later he came back. Hanji blinked looked at him.

“Levi…what the…” she stammered.

Levi had come back in wearing a grey bunny kigurumi. He didn’t feel all that “manly” in it but he figured if Hanji was embarrassed, he would be as well.

“Well it’s Easter s-so we should both be in a bunny suit of sorts,” Levi said.

Hanji laughed a bit.

“You look ridiculous and I want you to wear that all the time!” she said with a grin.

“No, only tonight,” Levi replied.

“Awww,” Hanji pouted.

“Okay, maybe I’ll get a variety of them and wear them on special occasions,” Levi replied.

“But only if you wear this for me more often.”

He smirked and Hanji blushed even more.

“W-well I suppose it’s a fair deal,” she replied.

“Good, we have ourselves a deal then,” Levi said.

“Now…”

He walked back to the kitchen and returned shortly after.

“Go change into this, I think you’ll find it more comfortable and you can borrow a pair of my boxers until I get your clothes cleaned up,” Levi said.

He handed her a purple bunny kigurumi.

“Awww you got one for me?” Hanji said taking it.

“Well I didn’t expect you to be dressed in thatwhen I got home and I thought I’d give you some extra Easter fun by having us wear these,” Levi replied.

“You’re seriously the best Levi!” Hanji said hugging him.

“Only for you,” Levi replied.

“Now go get changed and we can start our mini celebration.”

Hanji ran off and came back shortly after.

“I’m ready!” she said.

Levi smiled. He walked to her, pulled her head down and kissed her.

“Happy Easter Hanji,” Levi said.

She kissed him back.

“Happy Easter Levi,” Hanji said.

They got their baskets, ice cream and cards. Levi and Hanji had a lovely night watching fun movies, eating all the sweets they could and cuddling on the couch. They eventually ended up all snuggled together, sound asleep on the couch.

HAPPY EASTER from LEVIHAN

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

@levihanweek Here’s my gift! I hope my giftee likes it :3

#levihan #levixhanji #hanjixlevi #hanjizoe #leviackerman #levihaneggschange #levihaneggschange2020

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kingofdirtandnothing · 3 years

Text

@polyfacetious big ass Christmas Drabble Extravagaza: Day Nine

Frank spent a good five minutes down the decoration aisle, the last time that he was at the store. Most of the time, it was easy. He got whatever kind of sprinkles went with the season. Or he’d get something that was color coded to match the season. Reds and greens for the winter time, pine trees and snowflakes. Pastels for the spring, easter eggs and flowers. Browns and yellows for the fall, pumpkins and leaves.

It was the summer now. He didn’t need anything holiday specific. Bright, primary colors were what he focused on. They didn’t do the Fourth of July out here, it wasn’t like he needed red, white and blue.

But that didn’t stop him from spending minutes of his life standing in front of canisters of sprinkles, trying to find the one he wanted to use for Matt’s donut. Because it’s become a Thing, now. A way for him to say something he was too chickenshit to say out loud. And it’s not like Matt was looking at the sprinkles.

It was the easiest way to air his feelings out, the way the therapist said he was supposed to, without having to actually do anything about it. Frank got lucky when he fell ass over teakettle for a blind guy, though he was smart enough not to say any of that shit out loud.

In the end, Frank comes back with four containers of sprinkles, and a half assed idea about what to try next. There were mermaid sprinkles, all done up in shades of pink, purple and seafoam green. Those would sell well, especially this close to the ocean. Tourists like shit like that, and Frank had a feeling Aerith would get a kick out of it too.

Two others were basic summer colors, one in bright reds and yellows and blues that looked like shattered sea glass, and the other an old school mix that reminded Frank briefly of the way his ma used to decorate cakes back in the seventies, a wild mix of jimmies, nonpareils, and quins in about every color under the sun.

The last bottle, the one Frank was currently holding in his hand, was the one he bought for Matt, and Matt alone. “You’re a damn idiot.” It’s a murmur to himself, but it doesn’t stop Frank from putting the bottle down so that he can start working on the small batch of donuts that have been on his mind all day.

The cabinet out front was ready to go, bright lights and variety. There was usually something new in there every few weeks, but Frank knew what sold. Blueberry cake donuts for the boys in the bookshop, old school chocolate glazed for Peter and Eddie down at the bar. The kids at the florist shop were always down to try anything he made, the more wild the better. (He’d candied tulip petals once and put them on iced yeast donuts, and the two of them bought a dozen just for themselves.)

A little bit of each of those things meant he rarely had stuff go to waste. And when he did have a little bit of leftover, he could usually get Stark to buy them, because he liked to throw bread pudding on the menu at his place now and then.

The shop wouldn’t open for another few hours. It was still dark outside. That would hopefully give Frank enough time to get this damn thing figured out and fully frosted, so that by the time that Matt came in, Foggy under his feet and morning coffee from Magnus’ place in tow, he could actually like the damn things were out on display for everyone, and not just a sad sack’s attempt to put a little love in his baking.

Frank wasn’t stupid. Yeah, Matt was a looker, and yeah Frank had spent more than a few showers thinking about him. But it wasn’t that pretty mouth or those long fingered hands or the column of his throat that kept Frank up at night. It was the smokey glass sound of his laughter, and how quick he always was with a comeback. It was the way he said Frank’s name like he knew a secret.

This wasn’t lust that was making him dumb enough to buy special sprinkles just for a six pack batch of donuts. It was longing. And guys like Frank, they didn’t get happy endings. Not after what he did overseas. (Funny how he still thinks of it as ‘overseas’, like he was sitting back home in the city and not on a pretty little street corner near a beach somewhere in paradise.)

But damned if Matt didn’t make him think about it. What it’d be like to wake up in bed next to somebody that you cared about. And who didn’t fuck your next door neighbor when you were doing a tour of duty in the desert.

Sharing dinner with somebody. Sharing your silence with somebody.

The metal mixing bowl comes down from it’s spot on the shelf, and Frank starts with the dry ingredients. He sifts the flower, watching it float down into the bowl like a hard winter’s snow, coating the reflective surface inside. Next comes the baking powder and the salt, through the same sifter.

Then comes the eggs. The milk. The butter. The dough comes together easy, even with the flat whisk in hand instead of using the stand mixer. Frank wanted these to come out perfect, and he wasn’t fucking that up with a machine. Last is the bloomed yeast in warm water.

He turns the dough out to rise, and looks down at Misty, where she’s curled up on her bed by the back door. “You ready to go out?” Her ears shoot up, and by the time Frank has the leash in his hand, Misty is dancing from foot to foot. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

They take their walk nice and slow. The streets are quiet, in that time between when the bars close down and the breakfast places open up. The streetlights are globes of gold between pockets of darkness, and the only sound is Misty’s nails on the cobblestones.

Once Misty is back snuggled up in her bed, Frank turns his attention back to the dough. He rolls it out, getting his biscuit cutter out to get them to the right size, and leaves them to rise again while he works on the fillings.

See, this is where he got hung up. Frank wanted to do something special for Matt, without it being obvious he was doing something special. And Matt, God bless him, didn’t have the most refined palette. He’d eat Boston cream donuts every day if Frank let him.

So Berliners it was. Six fried yeast donuts, with six different fillings, because Frank was a glutton for punishment. Two sweet cream, because that was what Matt liked best. Two lemon cream, because the lemons were fresh and in season and you couldn’t throw a stone without somebody trying to sell them to you on a street corner and two with a dark chocolate ganache.

It was too damn rich, and real Berliners called for a jam filling, but this was Frank’s dumbass idea and he was going to do it his way.

Three bowls of filling lined up on the counter, with taste tests from him and Misty, and Frank gets his donuts in the oil. He’d do the rest of this morning’s batch once these were done. He wanted these done in fresh oil.

It gives the Berliners time to cool while he gets the rest of the morning’s display set up, and then Frank takes the six smaller donuts and cuts into them with a paring knife, filling them each to the brim with their filling. When they’re done, he dusts them with powdered sugar and moves them into a cardboard pastry box.

It’s only then that he stops, looks to the shelf, looks to the box, and then looks to Misty, who’s watching him with one eye open. “Misty.” Her tail thuds against the wall in a slow rhythm. “Why the hell did you let me buy sprinkles for a goddamn donut that isn’t iced, and you don’t put sprinkles on?”

The dog doesn’t lift her head. Frank is pretty sure she’s calling him a dumbass in her head, but she’s too polite to make it obvious.

Well there it was, the definition of how damn stupid he was for Matt Murdock. Stupid enough to spend ten dollars on sprinkles in pinks and yellows and blues, that he wasn’t even going to use on these donuts.

The bell over the door tinkles, and Frank looks up to see Matt, backlit by the soft pinks, yellows and blues of the rising sun that looked an awful damn lot like the sprinkles sitting useless in Frank’s kitchen right now.

“Black coffee. Two sugars.” Matt shifts the cardboard container holding both of their drinks to his other hand so that he can feel out the counter before he runs his fingers along the sleeve on the cups. Magnus must have done something to tell them apart, because Matt feels something and offers the cup over to Frank, smiling.

“Thanks, Red. Have a seat, I’ll get you something out.” He hears a wry ‘sir, yes sir’ behind him, though how the hell he hears it over the beating of his heart is beyond him. Just like he knows that the pain in his ass is flipping a sarcastic little salute behind his back. A bad one, too. He’s shown the son of a bitch how to do it right before, now Matt was just doing it to get on his nerves. “I saw that!” He calls behind him, not bothering to fight his smile. Frank flips his judgemental dog the bird where she lays, watching him and grabs the small pastry box. Now or never. And he put hours into these damn things. It was now.

“I’m trying something new.” The swinging door to the kitchen catches him on the ass on the way out. Frank puts the pastry box down on the table he’s come to think of as Matt’s, and drops to a crouch so that he can offer a leftover piece of fried dough to Foggy. Even working dogs needed breakfast.

“Berliners. They’re real popular in…” Berlin, you damn fool. The name got the point across pretty clearly. “Chile.” They were, actually. But it’s pretty fucking obvious by the quirk of Matt’s mouth that he knows that Frank wasn’t thinking about Chile when he started talking. “Thought you might give them a try and see if they’re worth putting on the menu.”

They’re not actually that much work, compared to the hours he already puts in during the early morning. But it’s not about that. It’s about getting some kind of reaction out of Matt, and Frank is man enough to admit it.

“The two on the right are sweet cream filled. Two in the middle are lemon cream. The two on the right are a dark chocolate ganache.” Frank has to resist the itch in his legs to squirm, or move foot to foot. Matt makes a pleased sound low in his throat just at the mention of what was in the donuts and Frank feels it all the way down into his marrow. And other places a man didn’t talk about in polite company.

“And I want your honest damn opinion, Red. Not what you’d say to a friend who you’re trying to salvage their feelings. I want the review you’d give to somebody else if you never had to face me again. I wanna know if the filling is too sweet, or not sweet enough. If I cooked the damn things too long. I want ‘em to be perfect.”

I want them to be perfect for you, Matty. That’s the words he doesn’t say.

I want them to be perfect for you.

#ch: frank #polyfacetious | matt #v: expats row #queued #carlota's christmas drabbles

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mcrvictoria · 3 years

Text

God (the play)

Characters: A mottle group that went to grade school together till the end of High school. Even though they have different personalities, they maintain a close relationship even in there late twenties. Bringing New couples into the mix and dealing with the off-putting scenarios the characters create.

God: Stereotypical character, white toga Style robe. Seems innocent almost naive. Seems to have an Identity crisis. Definite wisdom but seems simple when dealing with tough situation. Playful and whimsical as well.

Phil: Late twenties, anal and looks for people's approval even though he's successful at his job. Seems a bit needy with a touch of sarcasm that is retracted when he goes to far. Can be self-defeating and can be a bit of a whiner.

Martha: Wise but quietly wanting everyone to be happy. A people-pleaser, her main goal is to become the perfect host. Dedicated to Phil. Knows things others don't seem to know but can be so blind at times and a bit of a snob. She seems to miss the small things.

Tom: Very religious, devout, a little dumb. Easily influenced by Jen. Very scattered and reactionary. Illogical. Blind to all around him. Controlled by base emotions and short tempered.

Jen: Tom's Girlfriend. Not smart but thinks she is. Really argumentative. Emotional and reactive. Very aggressive. Uses sex as a weapon with Tom. Massively manipulative.

Tammy: The most unlucky person ever. If anything can go wrong, it will. She falls a lot, always hurt, outer circle even affected. Can be sad and meek at times. But still seems to carry a smile even if fake. Has an expecting nature about her and stoic.

Dr. Segal: Arrogant, controlling, big ego. Is a Player and condescending. Very shallow and materialistic. Male chauvinistic personality. Objectives women. Really believes he's better than others.

Corina: Very shallow, gold digger, materialistic. Only wears and top brands but never pays for anything. Has multiple boyfriends. Dr. Segal being one of them. Using her looks for gains. Very flirty cheats on all relationships.

Zoe: A clone of Corina but pretends to be dumber. Wrestles with being moral has a conscience but ignores it most times. Important to mimic Corina as much as possible.

Liz: Rhon's Girlfriend, an accomplished musician, university TA. Sweet, kind, a little silly, quiet and very smart. Super humble, supportive and affectionate. Loves animals and people. Can be naive because she wants to believe in the best of people.

Death: Based on a grandmother character. Super sweet, soft just exudes love. Must have grannies glasses. Flowered dress. Little hate, like going to church on Sunday. Cane, just someone you would love no matter what.

Rhon (the actor): Liz's boyfriend, logical, scientific in nature. A intellectual always ready for a debate. Can be loud at times. Knows a lot about the universe and not afraid to share his ideas. Strong sense of self.

Rhon Grenon (The director): Laid back but impatient, direct, demanding if pushed. Also has a contradicting personality, a “I don't care attitude”, but takes everything personal. Knows what he likes and can be a little arrogant about it.

Cue card guy: The real Rhon Grenon. AKA, L.A. Glanvill

Song list:

Voy Vance - Make it rain.

Kidnap kid - first light.

The Pete box - Wave.

Syd Matters – River sister.

Pretty lights – Finally moving.

Patrick Watson – To build a home. (Tammy Dies)

Youngblood Hawk – We come running.

Our last night – Voices.

Two Feet – Had some drinks.

San Holo – Light.

Suuns – Translate.

The Chemical Brothers - Snow.

Miike Snow – Cult logic.

John Butler – Ocean.

Waterboys – To close to heaven.

Phosphoroscent – Song for Zula.

The Strumbellas – We don't know.

Ray LaMontagne – Empty.

The Acid – Basic Instinct.

Low- Lullaby

Crews:

Sound Crew: Responsible of overall feel of the atmosphere and vital to success of the feel of the play.

Lighting crew: Timing is everything. Absolute focus is necessary or wont work especially in the end.

Food Crew: Have to do set up during end of play, Quietly and quickly. Then responsible to encourage people to start to eat. Bring them food or ask them what they want.

Audience Plants: Willing to engage neighbours and encourage them to get involved to the party. Start before the play starts.

Make-up crew: Responsible for all wardrobe and make-up but essential at the end to make Jen a car accident victim..

Visual Crew: Responsible for timing and visual play on TV. Easter Egg

Set Crew: Layout and design as well of placement for optimal full party organization.

Media Crew: Hit all formats of social media. Create a buzz.

Flood of lights across a room, showing all the details of the stage. Centre stage is a typical living room with couch and TV facing audience. Modern style decor Music plays softly in the background. Looks like there is a preparation for a party going on. Banner saying congratulations up and balloons, food out. Three characters are already walking around finishing prepping. The Lights dim, the characters continue to do what they are doing, above the lights and music comes the deep booming voice of God as his speech continues, the rest get the room finished and ready for the party.

GOD: In the beginning there was nothing. Pause Nothing here anyway. This darkness, which wasn't actually darkness at the time because no one had come along to start naming things. Just was... Pause nevertheless; anyway; All the same. From the darkness I created the sun, the moon and all the stars. People weren't even on my mind at this point. I was creating scenery. See. Then I laid out the earth here and touched it up with all the beauty I could imagine. Birds, flowers, trees, beetles, rocks, sand, rainbows and snowy peaked mountains. Eventually, water crept up on the land as land invaded the waters and beasts I envisioned lived in blissful ignorance. All but one; Distaste in voice HUMANS. Humans who started thinking that they had monkeys as ancestors. Who considered themselves the descendants of muscular slugs, who heroically dragged their slippery bodies from the water to land to evolve. Again distaste in voice Suddenly, I feel a need to inform them of their folly; To make my presence known; To inform educate, instruct and edify; To help them understand themselves and to do something. Pause You see, I've become so incredibly bored.

Lights rise again full. The three characters are speaking with one another from across the room. Light music. The doorbell rings.

Phil: I'll Get it. Walks towards the door. Stage Left. Martha raises a hand but not her head as she works away at making finger sandwiches. Phil opens the door to Tammy, Jen, and Thom. Who is carrying a bag of ice. Tammy has a grease mark on her face and her hands are slightly stained, her clothes are wrinkled and hair all messed.

Oh my god Tammy what the hell happened?

Tammy looks at her feet and doesn't answer.

Tom: Her car had a little trouble.

Jen: A little Trouble? I didn't even know that thing could move. It was a rolling horror show.

Tom: She just had a flat tire. Jen: A flat tire!?! I think all four tires of those tires were running on rims. She had flat rims.

Phil: Takes Tammy's hand You ok, hun?

Tammy nods her head walks over and puts a bowl of crab dip that she brought on the table.

Tammy: I'll put the Crab dip here that I made here Martha. Is that ok?

Martha: Come in, come in all of you. Why are you all standing around? Yes Tammy that's fine, right there is fine.

Phil moves to the side and holds the door open. The three walk by him and toss their jackets on the side chair. Phil, looking towards the entering guests goes to close the door behind him but Dr. Segal with Corina and Zoe walk in one on each arm like arm candy. Bumping into Phil as they enter.

Dr. Segal: How's it going, Hi, Hi. I'm here let the party begin.

Phil goes to close the door and looks out to the audience. The spotlight focuses on him. The rest of the cast greet each other , and talk give hugs and hellos. They all grab drinks that Martha is holding on a tray.

Phil: I decided to throw a party. Because I never do these kind of things: Normally I like a nice quiet night in with my fiance, Martha. Or a night on the town at a play, an intimate blues bar or a open air concert. But not in my house, I'm not to found of having people in my house. But these are my friends.

Pause, looks at the group.

A motley crew of misanthropes; self-doubters the lot of them. But aren't we all? They hide it well though, don't they? Dr. Segal there, with the ladies by his side. A plastic surgeon. He has devoted his life, specifically, to enlarging the mammary glands on the already well-endowed women: Women such as Corina, The young woman on his left.

Corina laughs, pushes her chest out, and gives Dr. Segal a slap on the shoulder

Corina didn't always look like that. Nor did any of us really want her to. She's beautiful, in her own way. Then there's Zoe who's thinking of surgery herself, but isn't sure. Why you ask? Because she isn't sure of anything or at least that's what I think. She sure seems to know everything.

Zoe steps back from the other two and raising one hand begins to yatter in a way that the others two roll their eyes at her

Phil: Jen and Tom, have a dysfunctional/ destructive relationship if there ever has been one. They can fight about anything; where the sun sets. What time it is on the moon. If an orange was purple what would it be called? But then they have, or so I've been told, knock out sex. Isn't that the way though?

Jen and Tom seem to be arguing about something of near the kitchen table

And then there's Tammy, poor, poor Tammy. We've been calling her that for years now. Nothing that we know of has ever gone her way. Her father left when she was four, then her mother died on her when she was five. She was shipped off and raised by a grandmother who didn't believe in children. Lucky for her she died when she was Ten. Then many foster-homes. And she disappeared for a good five years. These things are not mentioned in the group. None of ask and she doesn't share. Since she came back her luck has even gotten worse. If there is a chair leg to catch a toe on , she will. If she jumps a green light, she'll get t-boned by another car. If she dates a nice guy. An aspiring doctor...and don't let her know I told you this... he'll end up being the doctor only so much as that he'll get caught dismembering the neighbourhood cats.

Tammy goes to sit down and falls of the chair. Spilling her drink on herself

Then there is Martha and I, We've been together six years now. One day soon I am going to ask for her hand... I didn't know I could love someone this much. And this is my party which I have been planning for two weeks. Now you are all up to speed let's jump in and see where this goes.

Martha is handing out food still and the doorbell rings again. Stage lights up and Phil walks over to answer the door.

Rhon: Hey buddy boy! Gives Phil a hug then pushes him

Phil: Where's Liz?

Rhon: She's on her way. She wanted to bring her own car so she could leave when she wanted to from work.

Rhon Takes of his coat and drops it on the couch, Phil goes to close the door and Liz enters with God slightly behind her. She runs in leaving the door open, God wanders in as the attention is on Liz

Liz: Rhon, Rhon. I won! I won the award for my composition!

She runs across the room and hugs Rhon. Rhon raises a glass in his hand to toast her

Rhon: A toast, To Liz, who just won some epic award for which I assume is a beautiful musical composition.

Everyone raise their glasses, cheer and then drink deeply. Then the girls jump up and down in excitement and joy. Before going back to what they were doing. Lights dim. God Stands beside the couch examining the room, Hands behind his back, Tipping forwards on his feet. Phil goes and closes the door and turns to the audience. Spot light on Phil

Phil: Then there's Rhon and Liz. There's not a better couple out there, as far any of us can tell. And If I have to admit it I'm bit jealous of their relationship. Supportive and loving, disgustingly perfect. And then there's this...

Pauses looks at God hand stuck in air and confused

This Guy who I have never seen before. Who is this guy?

Stage lights up Phil walks over to Liz and Rhon who is excitedly talking to Rhon.

Phil: Who's your friend?

Liz: Who?

Phil: Dude with the beard. He came with you didn't he?

Liz: Never seen him before.

Everyone looks at God who is now watching the TV. Music changes to christian Gospel

Rhon: Who is this guy? And What's with the music?

Phil: Martha can we put on a different CD?

Martha walks over to change the CD but it keeps playing as she pulls out the CD as she holds it. She looks dumbfounded. Phil walks over to God

Phil: Hi There.

Looking quizzical, God just smiles, a kind generous smile

God: Good day, Sir.

Phil: Umm, Might I ask who you came with? Who you came with?

God pauses for a second, glances around the room and back to Phil. Some are looking at him, Liz, Rhon, and Tammy are paying attention to what he's saying. All others are conversing about there places and do not hear what he is about to say

God: I am God

Looking puzzled like he doesn't understand the question

Phil: God? As in Godfry. Right?

God: No, no, no. God.

Glances till he locks eyes towards Martha direction

Ask Martha.

Phil: Oh, you're a friend of Martha's.

God: Yes and no. But she'll understand.

Phil: God. Okay, God. I see.

Lights dim again, spotlight on God. Rest of the cast freezes.

God: To the audience. People simply do not understand. Was I to believe that they honestly would? God is not something that comes and talks to one Saturday night. Something, someone? That just shows up in your living room. God is supposed to be ethereal, everlasting and above all else, somewhere else; Somewhere mystical and above the clouds. Or trenched deep within one's heart: not standing on your carpet in your front room. How can I make them understand who I am? Well I cannot; they simply do, or they do not.

Lights back to full

Phil: God then.

God: To audience And Phil here does.

Phil: May I introduce you to my friend, Moses, Jesus and Mary. Snickers

God: I see. Sarcasm is the lowest form of humour. Has no one ever told you that, Phil?

Phil looks slightly shocked

Phil: How do you know my name?

God: I told you Phil, I am God.

Phil: I see.

God: Need I prove this to you somehow?

Phil: That may be a way to get over this awkwardness, no?

God: No.

Phil: No?

God: Yes, yes, of course. How might I prove this to you?

Phil: Snapping his fingers What was the name of the dog I had in high school? God responds quickly

God: Skippy

Phil: Where did I lose my Blanket when I was four?

God: You didn't, your mom threw it out? Taken aback and surprised but determined to catch him

Phil: Fine then, what is my favourite food?

God: Chocolate: which is odd, thought not as odd as the fact, bearing in mind the aforementioned fact, that you have never had a cavity. Thanks to me. He winks and giggles

Phil: And what...

God: Toothpaste.

Phil: Where...

God: Georgetown.

Phil: Stepping back But...

God: Spruce street, a quarter past five or quarter after five, Simultaneous multiple partners, a lakeside resort on the edge of Owen Sound, A four hundred dollar plate, the grass behind your house, with-in the bushes, Dying cats and teddy bear named Woo-woo you lost while searching for your little sister when she was lost one foggy May morning.

Phil: Head dropping Woo-woo.

God: Speaking in a Jamaican accent Yah Phil. I'm da real ting mon. And to answer you next question, I am here to raise my praise. People jus don believe anymore. Don believe in anything. And we all need somethin' to believe in, right mon. I am da lord and Savior. But if yu need some more proof.... Raises his hands above his head

Phil: No, No, that's alright. I'll play along.

God: Normal voice Are you sure? I have this amazing dancing elephant that will materialize at a moments notice. Doesn't make a mess. It's the dearest little thing I have ever seen.

Phil: No, I'm certain. But, could you do me a favour? I know you want to raise your praise and all, but could you keep the preaching to a minimum? I have been planning this party for a couple of weeks and really, well religious talk is such a downer. We just want to have fun.

God: Kicking his at the ground, head hung low, eyes looking up puppy-dog like Aww come on, I need to help people , help them understand that's there's something out there looking out for them.

Phil: Please. Begging

God: Oh All right, I'll try.

Phil: Try? If memory serves me right, you tried a few things a few times before and they have hardly worked out properly.

God: British accent Scotch, ma boy, I kna yu have a bottle a twenty five under yu bed.

Phil: Smiles I was saving that for a special occasion.

God: Well that special occasion is here.

Martha: Having made her way over to God Rod is it? My, my you should be wearing more clothing: it's cold out there.

God: Do you know what might warm me up?

Martha: Pigs in a blanket?

God: Yup. Pigs in a blanket. Smiles

Phil walks over to help Martha grab the food

Phil: It's god you know that don't you?

Martha: Yes of course I do. Who wouldn't know God?

Dr. Segal walks over quickly. God walks of to the food table. Picks up the crab dip that Tammy brought, Snif s it and gives a troubled face. Puts it back down

Dr. Segal: Who is that?

Phil: He's God.

Dr. Segal: With a smile on his face Let's look at this rationally, shall we. God, the being who created the universe, who created the prototypes for you and me. Who keeps the world spinning, who sends the sun up and the moon down. Or whatever it is that happens there. The big guy in the sky. He's here in your living room. The man with a plan, all the answers.

Corina overhears and comes over with Zoe in tow

Corina: This is stupid. If he has all the answers I don't care! All that matters is how you look and what you have. Everyone knows that.

Zoe: OMG! Corina come on that's not true. What about sad people: They need our help to make them happy. Like makeup and stuff.

Corina: Laughs loud and claps here hands like she has a great idea I know everybody feels better when you get a good haircut. Looking with wide eyes like she has a secret to share. We should start a club or crowd funding or group or facebook or whatever to give make-up workshops in Africa or hair extensions to the poor.

Both Girls squeal in delight and give each other a high five

Both: OMG YEAAA!!!

Phil looks dumbfounded and looks back to Dr. Segal to finish his conversation. Both girls talk among themselves

Phil: Umm, anyway sure, To answer you. Why not? I mean why not? Don't you...

Dr. Segal: Believe in God? Sure, sure. Why not. I believe in God But The guy with the beard over there is trying to steal your gold pen.

Phil: Pointing at God Hey, hey put that down!

God: Looking startled It's a beautiful pen Phil, lovely Fine gold.

Phil: Yeah, well you can see why I would be a little nervous about it then.

God: Indeed.

Dr. Segal and Phil walk over to where God is

Phil: And you might expect that I will Question why you have chosen to visit me. Tonight of all nights.

God: Indeed

Spot light on Phil

Phil: To Audience A rope walks into a bar and orders a beer, The bartenders says, Says we don't serve ropes here. The the rope bends over and shows him the top of his head and says fraid knot? No, wait that's not the one I wanted. Slaps himself on the knee Guy walks into a party and says, “ I'm God.” No, that's not nearly as funny. Guy throws a party and everything that could go wrong goes wrong. And God walks in.

Tom: To Phil smugly I see you are humouring the deity this evening Phil.

Phil: So you don't believe?

Tom: I do believe in God. I don't believe that that is him. I know God and his will: you know I am one of the faithful, one of his flock. I understand the heart and mind of God. I hate to say it Phil. But I am closer to God, more than any of you.

Jen: I don't believe it's him either. But let's have fun with him.

Phil Hangs his head as his friends walk past him. He turns around to find that the rest of the party members have gathered around God

Dr. Segal: Those are some hefty bags under your eyes, old timer. Drop by my clinic and I could help you out with those.

Martha hands God a snifter of scotch

Zoe: Like, where do you stand on abortion?

Corina: Can you make me Prettier?

Rhon: When I look into the night sky I can only see so far, right? I want to know what the edge of the universe looks like.

Everyone is there surrounding God

Liz: Where is the most beautiful place on Earth?

Phil: Once we have figured out DNA what will we know?

Jen: To Phil Why would he care about that?

Tom: To Jen Why would he not?

Jen: Where do you even come up with such dumb things to say?

Tom: Oh-for-crying-out-loud Jen! Why can't you just agree on one thing for once?

Jen: You always say that! I have my own thoughts, I don't like when you say I argue. Last time you did that I washed your shirt and nothing is ever good enough for you.

Tom: What the hell are you talking about? They both walk of arguing getting softer as they walk away. Improve argument from here. Everyone turns back to God to ask more questions. But not loud. Silent but dramatic actions. Music louder like a Montague

Tammy softly speaks as music drops almost shy like

Tammy: What is luck?

The party slips into slow motion but for God and Phil

God: Looking mournfully towards Phil You know Phil, You weren't selected at random. Your house was chosen. Wilfully selected. Let me tell you why I am here, Phil. Going into salesman mode People have managed to get the wrong idea about me Phil. My message has been bastardized to the point where I cannot tell what these people are talking about anymore. You have all made it more difficult than it needs to be. They've taken my words and ruined them. Changed them. Switched them up and spat them back out in odd formations to feed their own ego's. Someone should just ask me what I am talking about. Not these single little questions. These insignificant whims. Ask me what it is I mean by it all.

Phil: God, What are you talking about?

God: Ask me what it all means. What this world is all about.

Phil: What's it all about God?

God: Beats me. Giggles

Rest of the party snaps back out of slow motion and God and Phil are in there original places

Tammy: Why were all my loved ones taken from me so early on in life?

Jen comes back as Thom pouts in the corner by the food. She interrupts pushes her way in, then Thom follows back with a frown on his face

Jen: Is true love a reality? Or some sort of chemical bullshit?

Tom: Why are you asking this guy anything? He's not God!

Jen: How do you even know? Well? How could you know? It might be possible!

Tom: I, I, well I'd just know. I mean God doesn't come and start nattering to people in their living rooms, some night. Does he!

Martha: He could.

Liz: Is music truly the greatest divine blessing?

Rhon: okay, so what I find hard to swallow, is what religion is selling. It seems flawed, in a way that is beyond explanation. Hypocritical, controlling, and self-centred. I think that is the problem. Self-centred. Seriously though, I use to look up into the nights sky when I was a kid and wonder what was up there, all night long, watching the stars move and the clouds and the moon. Then one day I found out that it was us that was moving and not the stars. Or that the stars had already moved and what I was seeing was not even there anymore. They were just what was left of what was once there. Like that flicker when you turn off a TV at night. And seriously listen I couldn't go to church any more. I mean, If I can stare at something with my own eyes like that, something that doesn't even exist anymore, and the lights are beautiful. The earth moves on its own accord, and all this, all this stuff was actually created by something. I was damned certain that it, whatever it was that created all of this, was not going to care whether or not I stuffed myself into a little blue suit every Sunday morning and sang songs about how much I loved him. And how much I praised him. Come on wasn't Sunday supposed to be a day off anyway?

Everyone stops and looks at Rhon rant. For a moment when he's done silence. Then in unison to God

Everyone: Aren't you going to give us any answers?

God looks tired, settles down in a seat. Martha grabs a drink and brings it to God and a small plate of pigs in a blanket. He smiles at her and sips his scotch and closes his eyes to enjoy it

Martha: Let's all leave him alone for a moment, give him some space you guys.

Cast but Phil walks back to the food table talking to themselves

God: He makes me sound like I've been neutered or something.

Phil: We are not supposed to know the face of god, Or so we have been told.

God: Not supposed to know? Who decided this? Shaking his head at the statement

Phil: Only his work.

God: My work. Hmm. But not me. The product but not the inventor.

Phil: But are we to thank you?

God: Thank me? For what? For what I have done for you? But not know who or what you are thanking?

Phil: Does it sound odd?

God: A little. Might I have a moment alone?

Phil: Certainly.

Phil walks over to where Tom is standing, Jen Kissing Thom Passionately, God looks likes talking to someone, then sips his drink quietly. As Thom Phil is there and pushes Jen of of him

Phil: Tom, you don't believe that God is right there do you.

Tom: Oh he's here. He resides in our churches and cathedrals and in our hearts. He's all around us. Watching, judging every moment of our existence.

Phil: So, you don't believe that he could come to earth and talk to us?

Tom: If he did, who would believe him? Unless he turned the sky into fire, and the world to salt. He would show the power of who he is.

Jen: Yea right, he's right!

Stage Darkens, spotlight on Phil. Who walks to the front of the stage. Rhon walks over to God. And you can see them starting a deep debate. Can only see actions no words

Phil: Well, I do. We've made him human. Sometimes some of us; If we care at all to look outside of ourselves for answers. But then, most of us are too busy for that anyway. Doesn't it seem that the stranger things get the more willing we are to accept them? The tabloids draw our eyes their stands at the grocery stores. Tweets build fear. Facebook isolates us. We don't know how to be friends anymore. The news that people have won millions in a lottery, keeping us buying and wanting and hoping that in someway or some how our number will come up and we will finally win. We have lost faith in anything tangible. And as we lose faith we begin believing more and more in things, like televangelists, products that will make us beautiful. People that lie to us and we want them too. Trying to be perfect trying each to be a God in our own right, hoping one more person will push the like button to make us closer to perfection. We have created a God so far from who he is here in my living room, that we can't even see who he is now. Or understand. No one has direct recourse to the Lord.

Lights come back on and Rhon Is beside God. Phil walks over in mid-conversation.

Rhon: So, you see what I mean? No, no seriously, if we live in a multi-dimensional universe. The introduction of infinity proves that a God could not exist in this wider sense of multiple infinitives of north, east, west, south, up and down. Time, God. Time could not exist if God does. What we have is a world within which we are attempting to link existing things, things we can touch and see. Like this glass of wine. Holds up glass of wine Like wise cannot see, like time, or infinity, or God. And that makes sense. Doesn't it?

God: You cannot multiply infinity times infinity, then interject variables with an earthly construct. Quantifying the equation and expect there to be a big equal sign n the end. Counting things out on his fingers

Phil: So then we made God. We made God for the answer to these questions?

God: Yes, that is entirely possible. The world spinning in infinity without a leader, without a God. So, there is no God. No, wait a moment... There is Dammit you guys, I'm God.

Phil, and Rhon Snicker At God for a moment Tom walks over near the end of god speaking

Tom: Extending his hand Right then, God I'm Moses. Would love to talk to you a little longer but there's Sea somewhere that needs to be parted. Tom walks off laughing

Phil: You could have said something.

God: I don't bother with his type. He has his own perception of who I am, what I do. I could do anything I wish to him, but he's still going to be looking for a bloody tear to come off of some manikins face or a bush to spontaneously combust. It's easier to let him live his life. Let him live simply. Than show him the truth of who I am. Like I said before the message has been lost in time. The ultimate telephone game.

Phil: So the faithful are wrong?

God: Hand to chin No, not wrong. But blind faith in anything will get you killed.

End of Act I

Act II

TV is on. Rhon Flicks remote begins to press buttons. God remains sitting munching on pigs on a blanket and sipping on his drink

TV: In Syria today, UN troops are gaining access to previously un... On highway 7 today at 2:00am just east of Peterborough, Five teens driving what is believed in excessive speed crashed into a tree. Alcohol may have been a factor. All Five teens... For only $29.99 plus shipping and handling. That's right Greg, we pay the shipping and handling this time. What Fran We do?... It's generally our notion that, upon discovering his men bogged down in heavy snow of a Russian winter. Napoleon chose, against the wishes of his commanding officers and advisors, to continue on, but what was he expecting to find in Russia that... Show me the way to go home, everybody now, I'm tired and wanna go to bed.

Phil: Hey Rhon turn up the music, turn that thing down. More party man.

Martha while walking across the room, takes the remote from Rhon and places it back on the TV, music plays softly in the background

Martha: What is it I have to do to live a good life? Sorry to bother you, I really am, but I have been asking myself this question for so long now and I need to know the answer.

God: Slow, steady, psychiatrists voice Need. Need as a word, if I am correct, normally signals something which, were one to not receive it, one might very well die? Well, will you die if you do not receive an answer, Martha?

Martha: Looking at the couch, running her finger up and down the seam of the arm rest I suppose not. But will I be allowed into heaven?

Phil: Wanders over and sits beside Martha Yes, is there a heaven? I've always wondered that myself.

God: Well, a while ago I rented this warehouse location on Roosevelt Island and now we get those souls packed in there nice and tight.

Martha: What!?!

God: Giggling No, Martha I'm kidding. I'll have to leave that up to your imagination. But yes to live a good life Martha. I will tell you a secret Motions for her to come closer Rubber bands. You must collect more rubber bands.

Martha nods her head and stands, when she passes the TV, there is an elastic on it and she takes it

God: Turns to Phil I've realized over time I'm not that good with people, Phil. I often forget how ridiculously low their sense of humour is.

Dr. Segal: At the kitchen Table But Club Monaco is the new big thing. Those Tight little tops that show off the ladies belly-rings. And the skin. Short, short, short. Legs, legs legs.

Zoe: Club Monaco? Like, whatever. I spend, like a thousand on a shirt I can wear it like forever. Club Monaco cost like Fifty bucks.

Dr. Segal: You could wear it forever? But do you?

Zoe: Guuuroossss, NEVER!

Dr. Segal: Nothing I like more than a woman in a tight sweater. Takes Corina's hand and smiles I really do appreciate the subtlety of a woman. I know that sounds hypocritical being a surgeon in the art of plastic. But to me seeing a beautiful angel filling a sweater, where a lot is left to the imagination...mmm...mmm

Corina: Sweaters! But they hide so much. They're so, regular. I mean, Like, I mean. They hide everything.

Dr. Segal: And there is beauty in that, isn't there? In the unknown about another person?

Zoe: No, there isn't. We should be able to judge people without talking to them.

Jen: Well, maybe if boobs are all you have then...

Zoe: Take that back! Waving her finger at Jen

Jen: Why do you immediately assume I am talking about you?

Zoe: Take it back! Jen: Well, it's true.

Zoe: You don't mean it. Take it back!

Jen: I do, and I won't!

Zoe: Why do you have to be such a bitch?

Jen: I just say what I know.

Zoe: Well maybe you should, like, think about keeping some of these things to yourself, do you know what I mean?

Jen: Honesty is a virtue. Right God? Looks across the room at God

Spot light falls on God, the rest of the room slips into slow-motion. God speaks to the audience

God: Petty disputes. What makes them think that I can solve their Problems? Who was it that said, all of your dealings with one another, your financial troubles, your social concerns, your love and loss of love take them to god. Send them my way. I can fix it. In the dead of night when you have just hung up the phone with the only person you ever believed you would be able to love. Who has just told you that you unfortunately are not the one for them. Well, yell to good old God. Tell him your troubles. You've driven your car into a wall because your high. Lying there in your own stupid pool of blood and cry out to God. Maybe God can turn back time, you'll think, maybe God is the answer here. Then while you're laying a hospital room, contemplating how ephemeral it all is, how absolutely tragic the world is. How horrible you have been treated, you will say, Why, God, why have you forsaken me? And I will tell you why. Because, dumb-ass you did it yourself. It was was your choice to smoke that joint and text. Not mine. And that person that convinces you to buy Bitcoin but at the last moment you bail.

God: They become rich and you don't. You can't blame them for your lack of courage. You wanting to play it safe. You make choices that dictate your future everyday. I'm not saying hardship won't happen for no reason now and then. Sure born into the wrong part of the world what choice do you have. But definitely you have a choice here. You already won the golden ring. You by being here in this moment of time in this place have won the lottery of life. Every opportunity is given to you. I look out for the ones that need it, the little people. Putting little angels on their shoulder... But these people are beyond my jurisdiction. They've made their own rules and now must live by them. Sorry to say.

Stage lights back up

Jen: I'm not saying that you are a bad person, Zoe. Just self-centred and.

Zoe: What? Self-centred and What? If you are having about of honesty here and all.

Tom: Simple.

Phil: Please stop it you guys.

Zoe: Simple! Simple! What do you mean by that?

Jen: Maybe more ignorant than simple, actually. I'd say. But that is not a bad thing. You just decided to live your life a different way. Different things are important to you.

Phil: No really guys please, my party come on don't be mean to each other. We can work this out.

Zoe: Pfff, like okay. What. The. Hell.

Dr. Segal: Laughing All I was saying is that I like a woman in a sweater. But if we're going to be talking like this well Jen, I mean, really, Pot, Kettle, Black. Hahaha

Zoe: Oh shut up you, you, you pimp.

Dr. Segal: Whooaa Hahaha. Pimp? Hahahah, let me explain to you what pimp is.

Zoe: Like, I know what a pimp is. And. And. Why are you all being so mean to me? Starts to cry

Jen: To Dr. Segal as she puts her hand on Zoe shoulder to support her What do you know about or anything you glorified sculptor!

Dr. Segal: I'll take that as a compliment. Hahaha

Zoe: What did I do wrong?

Jen: What is it that I said so wrong? Or awful? It's just the truth.

Tom: I wish this never started. Why can't you just keep your mouth shut? Why do you have to fight with everyone at every moment?

Phil: Guys, guys, my party remember?

Corina: I think my left Boob is bigger than the right one. Can anyone see this?

Rhon: Why can't we just get along people. It's the differences that separate us and we have to start finding common ground here. Common you guys.

Tom: That kind of attitude will get you beat up these days. Hahahaha

Dr. Segal: Softly There's more to life than looks.

Jen: And you would know.

Tom and Phil both start laughing

Liz: Guys what's going on?

Tom And Phil Still laughing

Jen, Zoe: what you you laughing at?

In the background Tammy is eating her Crab dip, standing alone. No one else is there after eating it she sits. She waves for help but no one notices. Then leans back and dies with her eyes open. Everyone is focused on Phil who is awkwardly laughing.

Phil: Ha, Ha, So here's a good one. This guy, he decides to have this party and, Hahaha, makes everything perfect for everyone. For his friends and then, ohh, here's a good one. The Lord almighty shows up and. Hahaha his friends start to fight with one another and Hahahaha, toss some drinks around and insult one another and then, hahahahaha.

Dr. Segal looks over at Tammy where she is slumped over eyes open, as Phil has his break down. He walks over puts his ear to her mouth and listens for a moment. Picks up her arm and checks for a pulse. Stage goes dark and the spotlight focuses on God. God put his drink down and shakes his head

God: This isn't going to be pretty. Lights come up full on the stage

Dr. Segal: Tammy's dead! He shouts out to everyone.

Everyone: Dead?

Dr. Segal: Dead!

Everyone: Dead?

Dr. Segal: Dead!

Phil: How?

Dr. Segal: Dead!

Rhon: No, How?

Dr. Segal: Shrugs his shoulders Might have been something she ate.

Zoe: I told her to go on a diet!

Everyone glares at her still in shock.

Phil: And then, here's the punch line. I mean get this one, It's better than three guys walk-into a bar. A priest, a mime and a drunk Irish man. Or the one about guy and his neighbour wife? Which is a good one. A real good one. This one is better. This guy, see, he throws a party and wants everything to be perfect. But then God shows up and his friends fight and argue. And then, here it is, here's the big one, the clincher. The old whoompa! One of his guests Dies. DIES hahahahahahah

God: As he eats the crab dip and other things It was the crab Dip. I guess I could have mentioned that but then I got this scotch and got into these conversations and then the ladies here started fighting with one another.

Rhon: You couldn't have mentioned this? I mean really God. Come on.

Phil: I let you into my house. For the party.

Zoe: She was my friend.

Tom: I can still remember our night together. Walks over to Tammy strokes her hair

Dr. Segal: No leave her be.

Everyone sits down at the table then ignores that Tammy in dead. Someone pushes the Crab dip to the end of the table. The stages darkens slightly Music in the background. Death walks in touches Tammy on the arm and she pops up fully animated, Stands and tests out here new body. She seems stronger, more confident, both move to the back of the table and seem in a good happy conversation

Jen: Wait! What night with her? Thom? I introduced you to her. So if you did anything with her I'll Frig'in lose it I swear to God!

God Perks up and looks at them points to himself questioningly

Tom: Aww, Tammy. I feel so betrayed. Jen How could you think this?

Zoe: Like, Serves you right.

Tom: Oh shut it Zoe!

Phil: My party.

Rhon: You couldn't have mentioned this? You're God for Christ sake. You didn't get around to mentioning that the Crab dip was going to kill our friend?

God: Well, I knew the possibility was there that it could maybe, kill her. But things can always go one of two ways.

Zoe: Like, whatever. IF you're God, I'm Marilyn Monroe.

Tom: And I'm Moses.

Jen: And I'm Princess Di.

Zoe: That's pretty Tasteless.

Jen: What do you know about taste?

Tom: Name one Tchaikovsky Symphony.

Zoe: Who? Me or her?

Tom: Either of you. And at the same time points to God Prove you are who you say you are. Prove you're God. Let's get it all figured out here. All the cards on the table.

Phil: No, no, please don't make him prove anything. The elephant and the destry what's left of my party. And. Oh, please just don't make him prove anything.

With a big pause, everyone's attention is focused on God he sighs and gets ready to speak

God: This girl has an unlucky life and I get the blame when she dies? I didn't make the dip. I didn't make the crab dip with old eggs and old crabs. I didn't take it from the plate and stick it in Tammy's mouth. But I get the blame? See that's what I have been talking about. You all think that I have something to do with this.

Tom: Well, you do have the ultimate control over everything. Right? That's the deal. Your job description. Right? Or will you just admit now you aren't God.

Phil: Gone, deceased, dead hands flutter in the shape of a bird. Taking off above his head an at my party. The party I have been planning for over two weeks.

Rhon: Oh sweet-Jesus-tap-dancing-Christ Phil. Shut up about the damn party. We get it, we know, but right now things have gone a little sideways here and we have bigger things to think about that that right now.

God: There. There is my flaw. Snaps his fingers and points My cosmic joke, my point of break or my cracked vase. You little buggers can only think yourself. Yourself and how you can be better than one another. But, in the end, just yourself. Yourself first and last. Start, middle and end, me, me, me. Do you know how I got here today? I took the subway. While I was standing there on the platform, a woman named Patricia Barker, was severely depressed. Believing the world was to much for her. She was so desperate, to much pain to speak of. Decided to remove her and her child from it. The world that is. Remove herself completely. By jumping , child in arms, in front of a oncoming subway. I was the blind black beggar at the station. You want me to help? Well it's not my job!

Martha: That's awful.

God smiles sadly at Martha

God: But this woman beside me, Three piece suit, a couple grand worth of jewellery, late for a business meeting as it was. She began to complain. Complain that she was going to be even later for this meeting. Huffing and puffing. That it would change her world. That it would make more and more money. “Screw this stupid woman, who is dressed like a street person.” She said aloud. Decides to jump in front of a train, I mean come on people, you want to know everything in the world there is to know? Life on mars, eternal happiness, the perfect orgasm, long life and maybe inner peace? Well, compassion is a good start. Compassion and empathy is a damn fine start actually.

Phil: And then my guests piss off God.

Death makes her way to Tammy stands beside her and Tammy instantly comes to life. they talk but know one notices as all focus is on God. Death waves hello to God, God nodded in acknowledgement

Liz: God: are you okay?

God: Runs his hands over his face I'm sorry. You are no more to blame than anyone else. But you must understand that it is all about free will. And that is going to shock you all. I mean, especially Tom there who actually believes in me.

Tom: Looking sheepish and acting defensive I believe in God, and there's nothing wrong with that. But you my friend are not HIM!

God: You are a rarity these days. But no one really has it wrong. Well, except for the Scientologist. They are way out in left field. Anyway I created the earth, and it was good. I created the plants, the sea, the sky, it was all good. Good. Put animals in the mix nice batch of insects all life. Then I got tired or maybe bored I can't remember. So I set the program in motion, a basic free will if you like. It was good. I went away for awhile and I came back and what do I see. It was no longer good. Yu'all screwed it it up. Yu'all forgot a few things changed a few things. But yu'all had yer purposes to fulfill. And and yu'all don't like it. Then you have someone like Tammy here who, tonight, has fulfilled her duties. Who's free-will has brought her to this. And this.

Lights focus on Death and Tammy

Phil: Who is this?

God: Death.

Rhon: This old lady is Death?

Death blows her nose and fixes her glasses and smiles a big smile Tammy Appears beside Death. The rest of the cast realize shes alive and standing

Rhon: Oh my God, It's Tammy!

The rest are shocked

Liz: Tammy I thought you died?

Tammy: I think I did.

Phil: Wait I thought she died!

Tom: I told you she wasn't dead.

Corina: Tammy Come here, with us.

Death: No folks we need her with us.

Phil: Then Death shows up. What a party!

God: Yes, Gladice here is Death and she does a damn fine job of it to. Don't you Gladice. He raises his glass to Death

Death: I try.

God: You've been with me for what? Two, three generations?

Death: Going on four, God.

God: Elected by a body of her peers each time. And she still loves the lot of you.

Death: I do, I truly do.

God: With birth out of the way, and Death taking care of business. I have so much time on my hands. Thank you Gladice.

Death: No Thank you God.

Dr. Segal: Sounds reasonable to me.

Rhon: But can't you stop Death?

God: Sure, why not. Throw a stick in the spokes of history. Why not? But it's none of my business, now is it.

Rhon: What if we found a good reason?

God: Ahh a salesman. Great, perfect. Hit me with your best pitch, Mr. Lowman.

Rhon: Can I discuss this with my friends?

God: Certainly, By all means, take your time.

God rises from his seat with a grunt and joins Death and Tammy behind the table. The rest go join Phil on the couch

Rhon: What are we going to say?

Liz: Tell him Tammy's life was horrible and that she deserves a break.

Jen: Tell him that we could trade some of Corina's hair for Tammy. Or a leg. What are your legs insured for now Corina? Three, four hundred thousand.

Corina: Like shut up!

Rhon: Or maybe we could just bribe death?

Dr. Segal: Cheat him, lie to him, bribe him. Sure, what the hell, hahaha. The whole shebang. Bring her to her knees in negotiation. Tie her up in litigation. Appeal her rulings then jump bail with our Tammy in hand. Hahahah.

Liz, Rhon, Zoe Tom: Shut up Segal.

Jen: To Tom You shut up.

Tom: To Jen No you shut up.

Jen: Why do I hate you so much?

Tom: Talking through clenched teeth Why must I talk through clenched teeth whenever I talk to you?

Jen: Why...

Tom: If only...

The two of them lean into one another and start kissing

Phil: Two weeks. Two weeks I planned...

Liz: This is never going to work.

Rhon: We will have to make this work, figure out some loophole never thought of.

The group come together heads close like they are making plans hands waving and pointing. Death, God and Tammy seem to be in a deep conversation as well. Pointing to the other group. Lights start to fade as music plays up.

End Of Act II

Act III

On one side of the table is God, Tammy and death. God and death standing on either side of Tammy who is sitting in the middle seat.. On the other side Tom, Phil, Liz, Rhon and Corina standing. Jen and Tom have moved to the couch and pawing each other. The TV playing old family 8mm home movies in silent mode.

God: I see you have a couple of non-players on your side. Gestures at Jen and Tom Never-the-less, we should do this properly. Everyone, this is Death, Gladice. God points as he introduces each one to Death. This is Rhon, Liz, Zoe, and Corina, Phil and Martha. Oh of course you, know Dr. Segal.

Dr. Segal moves across stage towards Death. He sticks his hand out to shake her hand then pulls it away

Death: Yes, Dr. Segal, I know your work well. Rhon, a Lovely boy, Liz. Liz there are some pianos in the great beyond that you will simply love.

Tammy: To Liz Sorry I didn't get to talk to you tonight, but that CD you loaned me is on the cabinet by my bed. You can get it back whenever...

Liz: Aren't you scared?

Zoe: Like of course she's scared. I mean, She's like dead.

Corina: I'm not sure I understand all this.

Dr. Segal: You don't have too, dear.

Tammy: Actually, I'm not scared. Death told me about where I am going and everything and it sounds nice. And I did put on clean underwear today so we can take the express route. Anyway, I had a huge Visa Bill. Hehe. So all is good.

Dr. Segal: Hahahaha Good one.

Rhon: Coughs into his hand Ummmm.

God: Yes, yes, our salesman. Gladice, these young people would like to discuss the removal of their friend from this earthly plane. If that would be ok with you.

Death: Checking her wrist watch We really haven't the time. I wish we did.

Liz: Yelling I don't think its fair you are taking Tammy.

Zoe: Yeah, Like her life sucked and you're, like taking it away from her early and it's wrong.

Dr. Segal: Well spoken.

Zoe: Go to hell.

Corina: Maybe I could do work or something.

Death: Now, now, my children.

Rhon: Okay. Let's take this back one step. Calmly, Calmly. Tammy is our life long friend, ok? Everyone nods. And she has had a pretty horrible life. If something could go wrong it would. By far the most unluckiest person I have ever known. It was like watching someone being tortured slowly. There has to be a better way to do this this ending I mean.

Tammy: Well, it did have its moments.

Rhon: But it wasn't that great. I mean, your parents, your living conditions, your poor, poor luck.

Tammy: You make it sound like I should be happy to be dead.

God beams a big smile

God: You're losing your defendant.

Rhon: Tammy I don't mean it the way you think. What I mean is you deserve to have a little luck fall your way. A chance to turn it around a second chance. And bottom line Tammy we want you with us.

Tammy: I kind of like this dead thing. It's tingly.

Rhon: Tingly?

Phil: Why did she have to die at my party though?

Death: It's that easy isn't it? Someone snaps their fingers and someone is dead. There is no research in this no analysis. My team of professionals...

Phil: Phhhhh

Death: Who work very hard.

Phil: Phhhhhhh

Death: Very hard to get everything organized. Okay what is it Phil? Is there something you would like to tell us? What is it?

Phil: Absurd!

Death: Absurd?

Phil: Does no one else find this absurd?

Death: There is nothing absurd about this, young man. This is a very serious business. Where is he going?

Phil moves away towards the TV and just stares at it.

Tammy: Listen you guys, I don't know why this happened, well I do it was the Crab, but what I mean is this is bigger than me. More important than all of us. I feel like This means something and what I thought was bad luck or sadness or even loneliness, was teaching me something that I needed to learn. I may not understand all the nuances but I feel like for the first time. What I do matters. If you think about it, I will get to see my mom and dad, right Gladice? Gladice Nods her head yes and to me that's a greater gift than anything I have here right now at this time.

God: Okay folks, time to jump in for a bit here. What I want to mention is that what you are forgetting is that Tammy does not have a choice. Her life was designed this way for a purpose. It was all to teach her for the moments to come. She was being trained to take over for Death. In time she will have the compassion and the grace to help people cross over. Her training started before she was born. Everything she needed to be was planned out every second in time. Tammy nods like she understands and accepts this idea with a smile.

Rhon: What about free-will. You were pretty hip on that before.

God: It's all part of a system. Systems do not change at the drop of a hat. Everything has a function to the overall purpose.

Dr. Segal: Devil's advocate here for a second. You tell us all about you, the almighty, your work. Ect, ect. Then you introduce us to you organizational skills. Aka this free-will deal. What, in effect, is a program set in motion to do your work for you while you were elsewhere. Taking a nap and such. Correct? Right, then you introduce us to Gladice who you inform us, is part of a system as well. You can't believe in two systems of thought. You either believe in free-will or fate. Both can't exist. And, whoa is it just me or are there some things here that no longer make any sense?

God: This is getting out of hand. I know I made the rules, but I made them a long time ago and now I cannot recall the sensibility behind them all right now. Searching his pockets

Rhon: You're contradicting yourself now.

Dr. Segal: Now I was never a lawyer but I did go out for Law school before I became a doctor and I must say that...

God: Giving a stern look finger up Tammy serves a better purpose dead than alive.

Dr. Segal, Rhon, Liz, Zoe, Corina, Thom, all at once, after a slight pause, say But, Then fire questions fast then they pair of slowly mock talking to each other

Rhon: An infinite universe. Indeed, But what if is flat? And what if something created it which we can't even fathom. Something outside of cumulative reality than the God we know? Of even stranger what if we are just senescence stuck on an event horizon. On the edge of a Black hole? Existing only for a nano-second, but time being relative we exist for trillions of years before our reality is destroyed by another dimension. An mathematical nominally. Mistake by happenstance.

Steps aside

Liz: There is so much beauty in the world. But there is so much hatred and violence. How can I believe or not believe?

Zoe: Do we need to know?

Corina: If there is a god, and I’m a saying if, what will it think of us? We inject plastics into ourselves, we pierce our bodies and we plaster them with ink. We shave off bits here, suck out fat there. We don't consider ourselves or others in eight out of ten actions. Or we don't care. I can't believe because too many of us don't seem to care.

Tom: From the couch, unattached himself from Jen For the moment my belief is strong.

Jen: My will is strong.

Phil: I believe. How could I not. But it's like my party. God created this thing, this world, these existences, and then everyone ruined it on him.

God: Stop! Silence!

Lights strumming in the background all actors go to speak but find they cannot, they open and close their mouths like fish on land, god does circles at the centre of the stage like he's in deep thought and concern

God: I came here with the idea of teaching, showing people the problems which exist and possible solutions. And, again, to prove some things to myself. I mean, I had that Job fellow awhile ago, but what did that prove? You need to keep testing and testing and testing till you find a weak spot. The spots where the light gets in and you patch them up. You make them stronger. You make them better. Thicker, Darker, more resilient. But I wasn't expecting all these questions. Or all these people with all these problems. All self-centred, petty little people have confused me. I mean, what am I supposed to do with them? What am I supposed to say? What am I supposed to say?

Lights have a soft dim not full, spot light on God, he walks to the front of the stage puts his hands to cover his eyebrows to look out to the audience, to stop the glare.

God: Rhon, Rhon Grenon. Are you out there?

Out in the audience is the director of the play Rhon Grenon. On each side of hims is an AD cute with pens in her hair and a clipboard. On the other is a model like woman Possible Girlfriend. Super classy, snobbish air about her.

Rhon: Right here God.

Rhon the actor on the stage pipes up and God turns around to answer him then turns back into the light searching the audience.

God: Not you, you fool. You're not even real.

Phil: What does he mean you're not real? You've come here and really ruined my party. You've drank my wine, filled yourself with my Doritos.

Rhon: Yeah, I ate his Doritos. I'm real.

God: SHHHH! None of you are real. Rhon I know you're out there!

Rhon G: Yes God what's up? Stands up

God: What is going on here Rhon? Apparently I am God And have ultimate control over the universe. Right? I don't get it, where were you going with this?

Rhon G: I was trying to show ideals and obedience with conformity and such do not necessary guarantee a good life. Or a good afterlife, whatever the case may be.

Rhon: Who are you?

All the cast walks to the front of the stage, stay in character, they stand beside God. Do what you thin your character would do but silently

Rhon G: I'm you but real. Look forget it.

Rhon: He's telling me to forget it. Gestures to the other actors Forget it, he's me, But real. No problem, right, Rhon No problem.

Rhon G and God: Please be quiet. Timing Is very important here they must say it together perfectly

God: Rhon, what are you going to do about this play? It has seemed that it has spiralled out of control.

Rhon G: Well, I had a god handle on what was going on until people started shouting at one another. But that was all planned, in away, as it was, but now…

Jen removers herself from Tom walks to the forefront to face Rhon G.

Jen: So, You're God? This is our friend Rhon, And this guy here points to the Rhon G is the real Rhon who created us all and, of course, we are all just characters in a play? Well, then none of this would matter... That's it I'm leaving, are you coming Tom.

Tom: I, I don't think so Jen. No, Not this time.

Jen: Looking angry Fine! Have it your way. I'm sick of you and this dumb group anyway. And just so you know I'm glad this is over. I wanted to end it a long time ago Tom. So screw you!

Jen runs to the front of the stage jumps of and storms of through the audience and out the back door

Rhon G: Calm down everyone. It's okay. She can go. I wrote that scene in to get her to leave. I wasn't a big fan of her character anyway. I think I wrote her to pushy. That's why she gets hit by a car now.

From the back of the theatre doors open, you hear the long screeching of tires and a hard body thump. Hit by car, Out back have a team of make -up artist ready to bandage her hun give her bruising and deep wounds.

Tom: WHAT?? NOOO, NOT JEN!! Runs after her in hysterical After Tom leaves out the back

Rhon G: See, now he's all distraught and horrified. Now he has real emotions. Now he feels.

God: Is that what this is all about then?

Zoe: Okay. Like, what was that? I'm bored and confused and freaked right out and I have things to do tomorrow, I wanna leave too.

Rhon G: No, Zoe you still have a love interest. And what is this all about? This is all about Said quickly The conceptual reality within the confines of a subversive universe, will only express the complex level of benevolence that a higher manifestation of God Transfers. But we colour our realities in deep conjecture of patronizing subtle passions. I created you, God, with a reality which transgresses all boundaries. There is no logical process or grounds of functionality that readies the mind in a state of perpetual grandeur. With willingness to explore we touch the spiritual bond of life and we express as well as experience the differences that enumerate the belief of something bigger than we are.

God: Uh-huh.

Pause

Zoe: Like really, A love interest? For real? Okay I'll stay.

She sits on the edge of the stage looks out pick a cute none actor in audience and flirt with the person. Try to convince him/ her to come and chat and eventually on stage. At this point the food crew will start to move food in slowly and quietly on the side of the audience

Rhon: It wouldn't actually be for real though would it? If we are just actors and all in a play?

Rhon G: Don't get bitter now Rhon, whos to say what is real and what instinct. How do you know if I'm just and actor playing a part in a bigger play or reality. It could be endless.

Rhon: I have my own mind. I am real.

Rhon G: I can prove you're not.

God: Here we go.

Rhon: Okay, Go ahead.

Rhon G: Think of a Number between zero and one hundred.

Rhon: Okay got it.

Rhon G: Forty-two

Rhon: Uh-uh... No. uh.

Rhon G: Yes it was.

Rhon: Clenching his teeth as he says it Fine it was!

Rhon G: Go sit down big boy.

Rhon G and Rhon Sit down at the same time in the same pose.

Rhon G: Carry on with the play now. We'll talk , After the show.

*** Ref. 58 PG

God: Wait. So if you created me then I am not god?

Rhon G: That's not true at all. God is the ultimate power in the universe according to some. I can't Create God. Only God Can create God if God even exists. Which I can't prove... or disprove. I just wanted to challenge people's thinking. That's all. People are so damn set in there ways sometimes. I mean, don't people want to see different things? Different views? Visit a concept they never experienced before? Life is about experience and all the times we can see things differently, added to a whole of who we become.

Zoe should at this point should have dragged someone up to stage to come and get food. Other audience plants should be making there way up trying to bring someone with them

God: So I am God.

Rhon G: Yes

Phil: I want you to know mister, whoever you are. Pointing to Rhon G in the audience That I know who I am and I am not a character in a play. I am a man who spent a great deal of time putting together a party which has been, for all intensive purposes. The cast Laughs at him I have parents and a pet, and a woman here who... more laughter What are you guys laughing at?

Rhon G: Look Phil. None of this, is in the play. Now I put a lot of time into this play and would really appreciate it if you would, you know, follow the script.

Phil Stares out into the audience. The light goes to his eyes as god turns back to the party. Phil stares for a moment then turns around and sits back down at the table. With his head in his hands he yells

Phil: LINE!

Guy with a cue-card steps out from the side and shows it to Phil so the audience can see it

Cue-card guy: So you are the creator of the universe then. And this is all a joke.

Phil: In a tired and defeated voice So you are the creator of the universe, God. And all this is an elaborate joke and laughs hard and long But me, I've been planning this party for weeks now and nobody seems to care.

God: No Phil It's all real. You've done a great job. But I think that maybe this is what I've worried about all this time. I guess the world is doing ok and As the side tables of food and drink get placed food crew get slightly louder, not as careful. Talking saying is it ready improve at this point. Ask people closest if they want a drink or a bit to come and get it. Actors on stage will have to compensate at this point that people do look out for one another every so often and that in the long run will all do fine. Right Rhon?

Rhon: What's this God?

God: Not you. Quiet voice Rhon. Rhon Grenon. I'm a little worried. I'm a little scared how does this all end?

Silence from the audience

God: Softly Mr. G? How does this all end? The party.

Rhon G: Louder God, we can't hear you!

God: How does this all end?

God pauses no one says anything, makes his way slowly with Tammy and Death. They all leave out the front door

Phil: What was that?

Rhon: Huh?

Liz: Where were we?

Zoe: What was that?

Dr. Segal: We have just witnessed something miraculous.

Rhon: What was it?

Liz: Yes, what ?

Phil: It's a pretty good party, isn't it?

Rhon: I've had a blast.

Liz: Are we purposefully not talking about God being here?

Phil: Who?

Rhon: Who?

Zoe: Who?

Dr. Segal: Who?

Liz: Okay. Who?

Phil: Much better. Welcome to my party. There are more people to come, I welcome you all with open arms. I think. We'll just wait and see what happens next.

Party Continues this will grow from page 58 any free hands will join on stage at this point and help pull friends and family up or to tables on the side lights will finally rise full in the audience. But will happen slowly from page 58. so subtle you cant notice it should take about 7 minutes till full. All Chartres even ones that left will come back and join in the fun. Make small talk, engage people full talking now, normal voice. Some will dance and lots of laughter. Create a real party. The goal is to make an amazing transition into real life., the goal is to have no one clap no ending to the play. All behind the scene crews will join now eat, talk about the play enjoy the success of what has happened and let go of the reality that has been created. If we do this right we will blur the lines and will give the audience an experience of a lifetime. Thank you for all your hard work and bask in the wonderful thing you have created

One last thing as the music plays God will read “New.” As long as he wants. A key style writing that challenges the way you think. Join the party when the timing is right for you

God: It isn't love, but it is better than nothing. As monsters run wild inside of me. I can feel your soul. But the question is. If dimensional shifts are a real construct of a multi-verse, and all possibilities are real. Then it lends itself not only to experience all aspects of love and loss. But as prophets say, to be everyone in every situation and experience all realities. Maybe the true nature of love is the sadness of what we already know to be true. And that is to hold on to hope. That in this moment of fleeting desire we seek it to be different than all realities that we have witnessed before. Or maybe it's just dumb luck, and being stupid with the choices we make that end up breaking the continuity necessary to find that one willing to work as hard as you do to make love last...

Is that the meaning of existence?

Do you think I can see your soul?

Do we choose what to forget?

Are you the answer to the question I have asked all my life?

Forgotten along the way no place is safe for us to lay our weary head. Two hearts beating. Is this all we know? I tell you now we are not ready for the truth. As far as I can tell we hide from what is offered all around us. Every part of the world is angry at what is to come. But high with our heads in the sand as a fee is paid to crazy... Raise the Goddamn alarm, both middle fingers raising to the sky. One question we haven't been able to answer yet is how do we break the chains of capitalistic greed? Enslaving all that buy into a system of empty promises and high hopes. Since when do we allow corporations to decide in the matters of love, freedom, free-will, ideas, health, science, passions, morals, values, environment and life? A marketing wet dream of sheeple walking doe eyed into the grinder. Homogenized pale realities swallowing one red pill at a time. Laughing the whole way loudly, blinders on, crying inside, screaming for sweet release. How can I explain the infinite to you if we can't grasp the lack of survival we seem to adapted to without a touch of nature.

Feather touches the mind of entropy, brushing utopia around the corner. Ideas and ideals brought forth by constant thoughts hell bent on saving humanity. As the masses fight tooth and nail to destroy all that we know. A collective autistic nature, allowing institutions to lead us down a path of paranoia and greed. Selling phantom pocket ringtones, created in the cerebral cortex a basic animal instinct to be sold bought controlled keeping us further from our true self. Keeping us yearning for connection, even if its forgotten in the depths of time. Warning signs of cold nights to keeps us safe and alive. Are we getting better generation after generation? Right now we seem to collectively want a reset but don't know how to accomplish this task. A hard reboot. But the system has grown past anyone's self control. We hope that religion will guide us to the next time. Laughing that this is the start of the road to ruin. Fulfilling the prophecy that we decided long ago that we do not want to be here any longer.

How is it possible that the masses have decided this delusional state of mind? Willing to challenge life itself to its very core. Does cancer know of its existence? Manipulation of idol passive conquests. Steer us into non-reality voids. Painting colour apon colour. As our perception gives way to chaos. Disintegrating terror gives us hope that we are not sheep that we really are. Safety in anxiety of a world gone mad, we have watch all empires fall.

Wheels grinding , screeching and folding as humanity is perforated into bite size portions. Fed miss-information, lies and miss-steps. Taking us to the brink of loss.

Two minutes to twelve...

Extinction grows closer…

Pockets of us see a clear path a picture if you will. How to wake us up to survive. Answering questions on how to build on what has been destroyed. The more we hold on to our own reality and try to control it. The more we lose control of the awesome nature that life it self has to offer. We have to start to understand our nature. The will to feel what is real all around us. Seeking those moments of clarity wrapped in a soft blanket and a warm hot chocolate. Mother is coming folks. She is waking up. She will set us straight once again. On a paths of balance one way or another she will show us what her truest self is. Holding our hand like impetuous children we are. Time out, nose in the corner, looking over our shoulder waiting for the punishment to end. But my dear reader/ listener. I paint an easy picture in your head. If we pick our fight now...

If we wait. We will see the witch rise and all hell will break loose. A wash of fury that not one human in the existence of humanity has ever seen. It will be a cleansing like no other. There will be no record to keep. Now idols to worship. Not one person will be safe. Some may survive, some may even grow. But not like now. Time will have wiped the memories clean. You know I'm right. Think about it my friend. Inside you is the actual light of the universe longing to know itself.

It isn't love, but it is better than nothing. As monsters run wild inside of me. I can feel your soul. But the question is. If dimensional shifts are a real construct of a multi-verse, and all possibilities are real. Then it lends itself not only to experience all aspects of love and loss. But as prophets say, to be everyone in every situation and experience all realities. Maybe the true nature of love is the sadness of what we already know to be true. And that is to hold on to hope. That in this moment of fleeting desire we seek it to be different than all realities that we have witnessed before. I once heard, dreaming of what the world has taught me about love. Soothing complex fears wrapped in a neatly, tight, red ribbon. In that vision of truth. Don't ever question the deep burden I carry for you. My passion for you encompasses all. Let the dimensions cry for sweet release. It has given us the only way we can be who we need to be. Can it be as simple as you expect it to be? Passions remembered. Never giving up, never willing to fall. Making sure that all left behind will learn the lesson of true love. Beyond all expectations, beyond all hope. It isn't love, but it is better than nothing. I once heard. Dreaming of what the world has taught me about love. As monsters run wild inside of me. Soothing complex fears wrapped in a neatly, tight, red ribbon. I can feel your soul. In that vision of truth. But the question is. Don't ever question the deep burden I carry for you. If dimensional shifts are a real construct of a multiverse, My passion for you encompasses all. And all possibilities are real. Let the dimensions cry for sweet release. Then it lends itself not only to experience all aspects of love and loss. It has given us the only way we can be who we need to be. But as prophets say, to be everyone in every situation and experience all realities. Can it be as simple as you expect it to be? Maybe the true nature of love is the sadness of what we already know to be true. Passions remembered. And that is to hold on to hope. Never giving up, never willing to fail. That in this moment of fleeting desire we seek it to be different than all realities that we have witnessed before. Making sure that all left behind will learn the lesson of true love. We are the grandest illusion ever created. Beyond all expectations, beyond all hope. Stepped in, time is up, here we go! Feel the wind on your face, the sun in your eyes. Blue all around you. Paradise found.

#god #playwriting #play

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silwenworld · 4 years

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Summary:

Ten years ago, Agent Robert Gold had lost almost everything, and now the only thing keeping him moving is a promise given a long time ago. He won't rest till he gets all those responsible. But is the current case really connected or has he finally cracked? How does Lacey French, the woman from the casino that seems not to have ever existed, fit in all of this? The clock is ticking, old enemies are done with hiding, and when he can't even trust the MI6, can he trust Lacey while knowing he shouldn't?

(A James Bond AU/Mashup which basically means that there are some Bond easter eggs but it doesn't follow the storyline of any movie/book)

Category: M

Chapter 10: Papa

warnings: heavy angst. Character death (not graphic).

[A03] [Previous Chapter][First Chapter]

29 years ago...

He could count the number of times he had cried on the fingers of his one hand. From as long as he could remember, he had been told that men couldn't and didn't cry, and when caught shedding tears, there had been consequences. Even young as he was, he had killed without blinking with the same expression on his face as the one when he was eating breakfast. Yet right now, as he held the small bundle in his arms, the tears were flowing from his eyes like a river. His hands didn't shake, but he was sure that it was only because that if they did, he would indeed have dropped the most precious possession in his entire life.

It took Robert Gold one glance at the face hidden in the blanket to know he would lay his life if needed for the little boy. And small he was, too small even for his likening - born almost a month before his time.

At first, he hadn't believed the hospital when they had called him telling him that he was now a father as listed in the birth certificate. That he had a son waiting for him as his mother left without a word, leaving no contact details of hers, only his. He had known of course who the mother was - the relationship with Millah had been a mistake from the start, and he had been sure not to hear from her again ever since they had broken up seven months ago - but he hadn't said a word.

He hadn't known what to think on his way to the hospital. He was 21-years old, a naval lieutenant with prospects of getting a job at MI6 - what he was supposed to do? He couldn't raise a kid all on his own! He wasn't a father's material, hell - he didn't know how to be one considering how shitty his own father had been!

But all those thoughts had disappeared the moment his eyes had landed on the small boy lying in the hospital crib - or more like in an open incubator. He hadn't known what to do - too afraid to touch the child, to make any sound but fighting the deep yearning to do so anyway. So he had approached the crib warily and for a moment considered turning and running away, but then the boy had opened his eyes and let out a small wail.

Robert had reacted without thinking, picking the child up, awkwardly at first but more firmly after a second, making shooshing noises, hugging him close to his chest. One look in the boy's eyes had been enough to know he was his son - they had the same eyes, dark, brown and big. The child looked at him and then, had done something Robert couldn't have predicted even if he knew how - he freed his small hand from the blanket and had caught him by the nose. That had been when the tears had started. That gentle touch of the little hand on his face.

"It's alright, Papa's here," he whispered, sniffing.

The boy looked at him with those big, brown eyes, not wailing anymore, but more curious about the strange man's long nose, and Robert laughed softly.

"Yeah, I know. Weird, right?"

He would do anything for the boy. He just knew it.

"Sir?" The nurse's voice startled him, and he turned around. His hands tightened the hold on the child as if afraid he would be taken away from him. "I'm sorry, but the mother didn't fill out the name."

He looked down at his son, a small smile curling the corner of his lips as he saw the boy was already back to sleep, snuggled safely in his father's arms.

"Baylen. Baylen Neal Gold."

"Bae! No running in the halls!"

"Sorry, Papa!"

Gold shook his head fondly before looking back down to the file he had been reading. His son was now four years old, and the amount of energy the boy possessed was frightening at times. He still didn't know how he had survived the furniture-climbing faze or let's-try-to-eat-everything-I-can-get-my-hands-on faze, but somehow they had managed to get to this point in time. Gold had been slowly climbing in the ranks, and even if his job at MI6 right now considered of more desk job than any actual fieldwork, he couldn't complain - this way he was able to raise his kid and spend some real time with him, not worrying whenever he would be back home at night or not. Being a secret agent was one thing - being a single parent at the same time? A whole different matter eternally.

Robert tapped his pen on the table three times then made a few annotations on the side of the report, frowning. They had lost three agents in a matter of one month all because of some stupid decisions from the higher-ups. He would probably have to pull some extra hours at work to clean the whole mess up. He knew the organisation needed a change, but he was still too low in the ranks to make any move. With dismay he closed the file with a snap and put it back in the briefcase, closing it by using his fingerprint. Yes, his connections were growing, but they weren't enough. Sooner or later, he would find a way to put the right person in the right place - well, as soon as he would find them. He couldn't do it by himself as he had someone far more important to worry about. And speaking of which, it had been all to quiet for the last couple of minutes.

"Bae?"

No answer.

With a frown, he circled the desk and made his way towards the living room. Being a part of MI6 had its advantages. The salary was one, as he couldn't see himself being in his age with a kid and leaving in a place like this without it. It also had its disadvantages like the one that his hand almost itched to get his gun, even while knowing it was close to impossible for someone to break in and do something to his boy.

"Bae? Are you there?"

There had to be a more probable explanation for the silence. Robert's heart was in his throat though in the same way as it always had been at the times his son had been sick - being premature made him prone to infections far too often - or that one time he had almost lost him in the shopping mall.

As soon as he came around the corner, the hand that had been squeezing his heart had let go. Bae was sitting on the floor, his crayons in a mess all around him, lost in his little word. Gold leaned on the doorframe crossing his arms over his chest. There would be nothing unusual about the whole situation if the thing that his son was currently drawing on were a piece of paper rather than a pristine, white wall. Well, not so clean anymore as right now it spurted a rather nice looking, brown dog which tail was now being finished.

Robert knew he should put on his stern parent face right now, but somehow he couldn't force himself to do that. Instead, the corner of his lips curved in a small smile.

"Bae," the boy jumped, the brown crayon falling from his fingers and rolling away as his eyes winded. Gold looked askance at his son, masking the smile. "What were you doing?"

"Um...playing?" He asked, hopefully. Gold nodded.

"If that's so, where did the dog came from?" He asked, gesturing at the drawing. The boy looked down, sheepishly and mumbled something under his nose. "What was that?"

"I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"You're angry."

Gold sighed and pushed himself from the doorframe, making his way to his son side in three swift steps. It would not do, Bae already had tears in his eyes and the way he looked like reminded Robert too much of himself when his father had been about to hit him. He would never hit Bae.

"I'm not angry, I promise," he said while sitting down next to his son. "Come here?" he opened his arm for a hug, but the boy shook his head. Gold smiled softly. "Come on, squirrel." The nickname did its job, and Bae crawled over Gold's lap, burring his small head in his father's chest. "You know you shouldn't write on the walls so why did you do it, hmm?"

"I thought it looked nice."

Robert glanced at the drawing that was now somewhere to his left.

"It is lovely, but it would be just as lovely on the paper."

"I wanted it to hang."

Gold nodded, stroking the boy's head absently.

"Well next time you want your drawing to hang, you can draw the picture on a paper and Papa will hang it up for you, OK?"

Bae nodded against his chest, hiccuping slightly.

"If you keep drawing on the walls, we would have to paint them over, and it costs money that we don't have, and we would have to move away from here as it's not our own place, right?"

"I don't want to move."

"Me neither, squirrel, so just don't do it next time, OK?"

"All right."

Gold smiled and kissed the top of his boy's head then glanced again at the drawing of the dog. Well, it was quite a lovely looking dog for a six-year-old. The landlord wouldn't have a say if he framed this one instead of painting it over.

"Papa, did you love mommy?"

OK, that question hadn't been the one he was expecting considering the hour. Well, he knew it would pop up sooner than later - he was expecting it to be sooner in fact, but it didn't change the fact that he still hadn't been prepared to answer it. Especially not in four in the morning when it was just the time he was about to get at least a little sleep before going back to work. But then Bae had found his way to his room, looking sleepy and distressed. He knew he could say goodbye to his sleep as the kid climbed his bed.

"I thought I did," he finally admitted as his son settled himself under the covers. How could he explain this to a six-year-old boy?

"So you didn't?"

He sighed and ran a hand over his face. He so wasn't ready for this.

"We were young, made mistakes..."

"Was I a mistake?"

His eyes snapped open, and he turned so fast the bed squeaked.

"No!" His arms darted towards his son, cradling him close to his chest. "No," he repeated, quieter against Bae's hair. "Never a mistake."

"You sure?"

"Bae, do you know what the best moment in my life was?"

The boy shook his head.

"When I held you in my arms for the first time, you were tiny, you know?"

"Smaller than now?" Bae pushed away a little bit so he could look his father in the eye. Gold chuckled.

"Aye, a lot smaller. You caught me by my nose, just like that." He caught Bae's nose between his two fingers, making the boy giggle. "You're the most precious thing that I could ever ask for."

"Why did mum leave, then? Didn't she love me?"

Gold could feel tears pricking his eyes, and he hugged his boy close, willing them not to fall. It wasn't fair. He knew it wasn't.

"I don't know, squirrel. I really don't. I'm sorry." He rocked his son as his small shoulders shuddered with silent tears. Bae had never been loud while crying, and Robert sometimes wondered if he got that from him. "I can promise you something." He shifted, so they both were lying more comfortable. "I'll keep you safe - "

" - You won't leave me?"

Robert hugged him tighter.

"Never. I promise. I love you."

"Love you too, papa."

In the end, Gold wasn't the one who had left.

"I need to get those papers to the boss, can you wait for me here?"

"Sure thing, papa."

He ruffled his 12-year-old's hair affectionally, which earned him a semi-offended scoff.

"Behave, squirrel. I'll be right back."

"I'm not a squirrel!"

"You are to me!" He called over his shoulder, chuckling.

He hated to leave the boy here, but he again was working extra hours and had no one to leave his son with so the only option was to take him with him to the office. An office full of top-secret information that would have him sentenced for life at best of any of the secrets would leak out. It was good that some people chose to turn a blind eye that a teenage boy was roaming the headquarters of MI6 for years now.

"Nanny bailed out on you again?" He sighed as he heard Regina Mills' voice and soon felt her presence next to his shoulder as she fell in step with him. "You know he's a teenager, right? They can take care of their own."

"Have you become a mother in the two months I've been away?" He grimaced, but Regina only smirked. M had paired them up four years ago, and honestly, he still didn't know it was still working. Regina was five years younger than him and a nuisance, but ambitious and climbed the ranks even quicker than he.

"I've been a mother for years. I count you as a child."

"I'm older than you."

"So?"

"How am I a child in this?"

She looked at him, pointedly as if it was the stupidest question in the world. Gold cleared his throat and opened one of the folders in his hand, flicking through the pages.

"How's the kid, by the way?"

"He doesn't sound as if he's about to cough his lung if that's what's you're asking," he mumbled distractedly.

"Good. I hate how grumpy you are when he's sick."

Sick was putting it lightly. Bae's month stay in a hospital was still giving Gold nightmares. Masking his unease with a cough, he pulled out a sheet of paper from the folder and handed it to Regina.

"One more for the coup d'etat," he remarked.

"Are you sure about that?" She asked, scanning the page.

"You and I both know that M's been doing a lousy job for years now," they arrived at the elevator and Gold pushed the button. "Give me two, maybe three years tops, and you'll have enough material to bring him down."

The doors opened, and he stepped in, passing the folders to his other hand.

"Gold? Why are you doing this? Why me?" Regina asked.

"I'm not bossy enough to stand the top brass, unlike you," he grinned at her sour look. "Besides, you'll own me a favour."

The door closed, not giving Regina a chance to respond.

"Dad? How do you know that you like somebody?"

Gold glanced at his son, his expression illuminated by the laptop's screen.

"You mean like or like-like?"

Baylen grimaced but kept fidgeting with his phone.

"Like-like?"

"Ask them out, and you'll know."

"Papa!"

Gold grinned and relaxed into his chair after closing the laptop. Baylen looked utterly miserable, but for the first time, he was actually enjoying that look on his boy's face. He raised his hands in mock surrender.

"Alright, who are they?"

"Her name's Emma... Her father's a police officer."

Gold bearly restrained himself from chuckling. Trust Bae to make a big deal to him about who the father of the girl he fancied was.

"And?" He prompted.

"She's very good at computers. And funny. And has this beautiful smile that lights up her whole face - what?" His son gave him a startled look at his sudden snort.

"I think you already know that you like-like this Emma, Bae."

Baylen smiled sheepishly.

10 years ago...

It was quiet in the house, and Gold let out a relieved sigh, wincing instantly when a pain shot from his ribs with the next step as he limped through the hall. Bae-Neal, he corrected himself - he would always be Baylen for him no matter what the boy said, but he did respect his choices - seemed to stay at the Nolan's today. Gold didn't blame him. The fight they had, had been a serious one. Some words had been spoken in anger that he wished he could have taken back but hadn't got the time to as he had been called away on a mission.

And it had been one of the hardest ones since he had gotten his status of OO two years ago.

And ironically, the reason behind the fight with his almost nineteen-years-old son.

"Yeah, go kill others without the consequences! Why don't you!"

I do this so I can keep others safe, and you know it!"

"Right, you know it's been a real fun on those parent projects at school. 'And you, Baylen what do your parents do? Oh, my mum was a bitch who didn't give a damn about me - "

" - Language, son- "

"- And my dad is almost a licensed killer!'"

“That's enough, Bae!"

"One day, you will end up dead! And where will that leave me and Emma?!"

"She has nothing to do with this, Bae."

"Yes, she does! She's pregnant! And it's Neal, for fuck's sake!"

His son had stormed off after that. Gold hadn't been proud of the exchange. They hadn't gotten that many significant fights in the past, but the words his son had spoken had struck deep - maybe because they had been true, but Gold couldn't help his ambitions. With Regina finally in charge, thanks to his mending, and him being a full flagged agent, he couldn't quit. He was addicted to it, always had been. He had promised Bae he would let it go soon, but it didn't change the fact that this mission he just had to carry through. This and the next one too.

Something was brewing. Gold didn't yet know what, but he had a gut feeling - something he had almost perfected during his forty-years of age. Children had started to disappear in the war zones, illegal weapon market was blooming more than ever, and it all had started just a couple of months ago. And one name had been popping up in the news lately - one he didn't like one a bit.

He couldn't quit. Not yet. Especially not after the reveal that there was about to be another addition to his family.

So, he limped towards the living room, hoping to get to the first aid kit hidden away in one of the drawers. His wounds weren't severe but painful, and he didn't trust the hospitals not to keep him overnight or longer, so he had decided to head home instead. He leaned on the doorframe, resting his head against the cold metal, breathing hard while closing his eyes. It was good that his son wasn't home.

"Papa?"

Or not.

The living room was dark, but when opening his eyes, he could bearly see the outline of his 18-years-old son. Blurry and a little doubled, but Bae's nevertheless.

"Shouldn't you be at Nolan's?" he asked resigned, his voice raspy thanks to the bruising already visible on his throat beneath the collar.

Neal approached him, cautiously, slowly as if his father was a wounded animal met somewhere in the wild. Not far from the truth, really. There was still blood on his suit and not all of it his.

"I came to take my things," his son answered, quietly not really able to hide the worry in his voice.

Gold nodded, focusing on his son's face or at least trying to. Something trickled down his hip and leg. He didn't dare to look down, suddenly thankful for the lack of light.

"I won't keep you waiting."

He fully expected for Bae to brush past him by now, but he was still standing where he had been, not moving. Well, not moving wasn't the right term as he was swaying, but Gold was pretty sure it was due to his own injuries and not his son's movement. Baylen's hand twitched at his side as if he wanted to reach out to him, but stop himself when realising what he was about to do.

"I want to keep them safe."

"I know. I don't blame you," he answered tiredly. He wanted the same thing, after all. Gold had been a fool thinking he could balance both his lives so well. It was a miracle he would able to get as many years with his boy as he had.

Bae still didn't move.

Gold sighed and pushed himself from the doorframe, waiting to get this over with, but his vision suddenly swayed, and he wobbled on his feet. His mind went woozy, and he must have blacked out for a second because when his vision cleared, he was sitting in the armchair, his son's concerned face hovering over him.

"I'm fine," he grunted, trying to stand up just to be pushed back into the chair.

"On a scale of December 15th to May 24th, how bad is it?"

Gold winced.

"Somewhere in between," he admitted.

Neil nodded and without another word went to get the medkit. His father was a master at concealing his injuries, and for a very long time, Neil hadn't even known what the man's actual line of work had been. He had thought him to be a simple ex-military paper pusher. It had changed on December 15th, when Neil had been thirteen, and he had caught his father cleaning his bloodstained clothes while nursing an ugly knife wound to the side. The wound got infected two days later, and Gold had to go to the hospital. And then, almost three years later, Neil had gotten a phone call from Miss Mills telling him his father was in a critical condition with a gunshot wound to his lung. Since then, he had always asked about his dad's wellbeing when injured varying between those two dates.

But he just couldn't keep doing this.

Still, in silence, he helped his father remove his clothes and, trying not to stare at cuts and bruises, began to clean the worst of them.

"You should go to the hospital," he mumbled while threading a needle. The wound that was bleeding the most - the one just above his father's hip - was deep enough to need stitching.

"Don't have time for that," Gold answered, grimacing. He glanced at his son, and when realising what he was doing, he covered his hand with his, stopping him. "I'll do it myself. You can finish packing."

Bae glared at him.

"I don't think stitching yourself up is the best idea right now, pops," he snapped. He was still angry, but beneath it, all he was first and foremost afraid. Every time he was seeing his father could be the last, and now he was about to become a father himself. He wasn't ready.

"You'll do fine," his dad gritted out through his teeth as the needle puncture his skin.

"It's not like I haven't stitched you up before," he mumbled. He felt his father chuckle by the way his muscles moved, but what had come out of his mouth resembled more a hiss than anything else.

"That's not what, I meant," he elaborated.

"Yeah? then what?" Stupid old man. Why couldn't he be an accountant or something?

"You're going to be a fine father. Far better than your own pop."

"Shut up." How could he know what he was thinking?

"Well, you don't plan on getting your kid to patch you up, do you?" Gold looked down, fondly at his son's concentrated face then hissed again when Bae pulled at the thread. His son didn't answer. Instead, he finished the stitch then bandaged the now closed wound.

"You really can't let this go, can you?" the boy - no, the man, Gold corrected himself, asked. But he sounded so small that for a moment he thought it was his little boy, freshly woken from a nightmare, kneeling before him.

Gold felt tears gather in his eyes, and he couldn't help himself as he ran his hand through his son's hair.

"The next mission is going to be the last, all right?" Bae raised his eyes up at him, and Gold's heart broke a little at how hopeful he looked. "It may take a while," an underestimate, "but I promise - After that? We can all be a family. We all be alive and safe - You, me, Emma and the baby."

"Henry. If it's a boy, we thought we could name him Henry."

Gold's mouth curved, despite the exhaustion. "And if it's a girl?"

"I thought Tilly."

Gold nodded. "You. Me. Emma. Henry-Tilly. Safe and alive. I promise."

Bae nodded and squeezed his hand. An hour later, Gold was alone in an empty flat. It was for the better - His son was safer that way with a changed ID and all. He would keep that promise.

He didn't know how wrong he was.

Children shouldn't have to kill their parents. But their parents shouldn't have been crazy psychopaths either.

It was twisted and not at all how it was supposed to be.

"How about that, laddie? You don't have guts to do this."

There were tear tracks on his face. There was no reason to be crying after the man that had made so many years of his life living hell. And yet he was doing just that.

"Poor Robbo, cowering away as always. They might have given you a fancy title and a gun, but you're still a coward."

His right leg hurt, and he could feel the makeshift bandage on his shoulder getting wetter as blood seeped through with every step.

But he needed to see them. He needed to hold them and make sure they were fine. He had his orders, he knew what had to be done, and done it, but he needed to look into his boy's eyes and pray he didn't see him as scum.

"What will you do when I get my hands on that kid of yours, hmm? Nothing. You'll be useless as always, thinking you have it all figured out. You know nothing, laddie."

He could see the blood on his hands even though he had washed them so many times the skin was still red and raw. But he could see that moment playing over and over in his head.

The struggle.

The fall.

The sharp metal ripping his calf.

The knife in his hand that he plunged into his father's chest.

Watching the light fade from those brown eyes that even lifeless held so much spite that could last for decades.

"Oh, and I've heard rumours... Isn't his girlfriend pregnant? Congratulations are in order for the both of us it seems."

He had held the knife for long enough for his own fingers to stiffen. And even after it was way past the time he should let go, he made sure to check for a pulse. He had found none.

Malcolm Gold was dead.

Killed by his son's hand.

The sick bastard wouldn't hurt another human being ever again, but somewhere deep down where the small Bobby Gold was still hiding in the closet yearning for his Papa's attention, Gold felt sick with what he had done.

So he stumbled down the street, to the familiar block of flats already visible around the corner where the light on the sixth-floor apartment was thankfully still on. Up until now, Gold had visited only once, but now he couldn't keep away any longer.

He was drawn like a moth to the flame, towards his family. It was finished.

Gold found the doors unlocked and somehow managed to climb the stairs despite the agony he felt every time his leg made contact with the step. The hour was late, but it took only ten seconds for Bae to open the doors after Gold had rung the bell.

"Papa?"

Neal's eyes winded in surprise, taking in his father's haggard appearance - the way he kept his weight mostly on his left leg, the dark spot on his pant leg, tearstained face, raw knuckles.

"Bae..." His dad's voice sounded broken, pleading. And this time he didn't correct him about using his old name. Instead, he exchanged his arms and pulled his dad into a tight hug, only a little surprised at how clingy he was when his hands twisted in Neal's shirt.

Neal pulled him inside, closing the door with his elbow, not letting go, taking some of his father's weight on himself.

"I've killed him. It's over."

Neal stilled, hearing his father's muffled voice. He swallowed hard, wanting to know more, but too afraid to ask. Instead, he tightened his arms around the man holding him close.

"Neal?" Emma came around the corner from the kitchen, holding herself steady on the wall. At close to eight months pregnant her back was killing her, especially in the evenings, but it took her only one glance at her soon to be father-in-law to know what would need to be done next. "I'll bring the medkit and ready the coach."

Neal smiled to her over his father's shoulder in thanks.

"Come on, Papa. Let's seat."

Neal didn't ask what happened. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. It didn't change the fact that he wasn't stupid, and the clues were easy to add up. Because he had spent that night seated next to his father and the man repeated only one word in his restless sleep.

Papa

Malcolm Gold hadn't been the topic that had popped up often, more like close to never, but what Neal knew was enough. Somehow his grandfather had been involved in whatever his father latest assignment was - Involved and killed.

And the one who had pulled the trigger or whatever was no other than Neal's dad.

Neal pushed away, the stray lock of hair from Gold's forehead, wondering how the man could stand his hair that long. There were other questions he wanted to ask but didn't dare to.

So he kept vigil as the clock ticked and his father tossed in his sleep.

It had been raining that day. Emma had been out, and later on, he had been grateful - their last conversation summed up in a kiss and a promise to see each other later and not a tearful goodbye with empty promises.

Neal should have known that something hadn't been right. He had never seen the woman in green around his father, and there had been something in her eyes, something maniacal - wicked even that he should have paid more attention to. He should have trusted that feeling that he had inherited from his dad, telling him that something was off about the whole situation. Still, the moment the woman lanched onto him, words like 'trouble' 'his father' 'danger' and 'death' spilling from her mouth. Somehow she had made it seem he could be the only one to get his dad out of a situation he had found himself in, one he shouldn't have been considering he had quit the MI6 two days after he had stumbled in Neal's flat one month ago. So he had gone with the woman, leaving Emma a quick note on the table, after grabbing the only gun in the house and ignoring the red flags that had been even redder than the stranger's hair.

And he hadn't seen the wicked smile on the woman's face, too preoccupied with the worry about his father. In the end, he didn't use the gun. He didn't even manage to pull it out from his waistband when hands grabbed him out of nowhere and dragged him towards the car. They hit him over the head, and he slumped in their hold, unable to fight.

Before the darkness took him, with a pang of guilt and sudden realisation, he knew one thing - he would never see Emma ever again.

"Bae! Please don't! Not my son!"

"It's OK, Papa..."

"No! No, I beg you! Don't - Agrr!"

"Don't hurt him! You promised not to touch him any more!"

"I lied."

"Papa!"

"Please... Please... Not, N-Not my boy -Not Bae..."

"Oh, poor Robby, can't move that leg, can you? what a shame you won't be getting any nearer."

"Kill me, instead! Don't hurt him. It-It's me that you wa - "

"Oh, and who told you that?"

A scream.

"Leave him alone!"

"Bae, no... don't..."

"It's OK."

"I'm s-sorry, God, I'm s-sorry..."

"Look away, Papa."

"S-Squirrel..."

"You remember your promise? Keep them safe."

"No- No! I'll kill you! Don't touch him!"

"Just watch me, doll."

"Look away, Papa. Please."

Gold didn't look away. He kept trashing and screaming on the floor, but Neal didn't have the strength to tell him to stop. He wanted so much to tell his dad not to blame himself, that it wasn't his fault.

"P-Please... N-No."

He wanted to say it was OK while it wasn't, to be the brave one while scared, and to have the strength for his dad to remember the smile on his face instead of a grimace. His father's red from crying eyes were the last thing he had seen before he felt a syringe plunge into his neck.

Bae's only regret as he slipped into the embrace of darkness was that he would never see his own son.

And then the veil closed all around him, and Baylen Neal Gold knew nothing more.

"Clear!"

"There's nobody here."

"Have you checked the last room?"

"I'm going in."

"God Almighty... Gold? Gold!"

"Jesus, Is he...?"

"Gold? You need to let him go. We'll take care of him. Let go, Rob."

It should have been raining. Instead, the day was as sunny as it could be with only the wind as his sole companion.

No parent should have to bury their child.

Gold tightened his hold on the crutches waiting for the tears to come. They didn't. He supposed he didn't have any left.

"I'm sorry..." he rasped, but no answer had come from the gravestone.

It was his fault. All of it. His damn fault.

Zelena. His father. The others - how could he be so stupid, thinking that killing Malcolm would have to be the end of all of this? How could he be so blind not to know there had to be more people involved?

And now his son was dead, his almost daughter-in-law hated him and was on the run, and his grandson was still in danger.

Emma had screamed at him in the hospital, had been closed to punching him when he had taken her boy little boy away.

No parent should have to bury their child, and no parent should have to be separated from one.

And Gold was the cause of both of the above.

In his mind, he was crushing to the ground, screaming, begging for forgiveness. He would do anything to turn back time, but he knew it was impossible. All he could do was to secure the future for the only part of Baylen that he had left in this world.

Malcolm had said he wanted the boy too, so whoever the twisted man had been working with would be targeting Henry as well.

Henry.

Gold flinched as if hit. Bae wanted the boy to be named Henry. He would never see his son grow; he hadn't even seen him born. Emma had given birth alone, while the doctors had tried to patch Gold up. By all means, he should still be in the hospital, but only two days after Q had fixed his leg, he had pushed the shock and trauma far into the corner to his mind and told Emma she needed to give up her child.

If that didn't make him a monster, he didn't know what did.

With a sudden spike of anger, he threw the crutch at the gravestone, screaming.

"It's not fair..."

He threw the second one, watched it bounce off the gravestone.

"I'm so sorry, son..." He wobbled, his right leg still unstable despite the brace then fell to his knees. "I'm s-sorry. I'll keep them safe. All of them.... I promise."

"Gold? What are you doing here?"

"I'm cashing in my favour."

"What?"

Gold hugged the small bundle in his arms closer to his chest as the wind got stronger. His other hand gripped the cane in a death grip, his arm already shaking. His body wasn't ready to walk without the two crutches, but would sooner crawl than hand his precious cargo to anybody else. It would be the last time he would hold him. His wounds could be damned.

Regina's eyes briefly flickered to the bundle only now realising that what it was hiding was a baby. She opened her mouth to ask what was going on, but she could get the words out, not when she saw the desperate look on Gold's face.

"Please," he begged, and it was so unlike him, she had almost taken a step back from the shock. Gone was the sarcastic man she had known for all those years, in his place stood a broken man that she got a glimpse on the graveyard. "You're the only one I can trust."

She nodded, exchanging her arms. Gold hesitated only for a moment but then, reluctantly and awkwardly, he placed the small boy into her arms. The child opened his eyes and looked at her. She felt something squeeze her heart.

They were the same as Gold's eyes.

"Those people are still out there. He's not safe till they're gone."

"You're not fit for duty," she mumbled not taking her eyes from the boy, tracing her thumb over his cheek. She heard Gold sigh.

"But I'll be."

She nodded again. "You better be."

Regina heard the rustle of Gold's shoes and a tap of his cane as he turned around. She raised her head. "Gold?" He didn't turn back around, his shoulders stiff, but he stopped. "What should I tell him? You know, when he grows up?"

"Nothing," he whispered. "He must know nothing - about his parents, me - nothing. For his own safety."

Regina nodded, her mouth set in a thin line and her heart breaking a little.

"I'll keep him safe."

She turned around, her hand already on the doorknob, ready to close the door behind her.

"May I ask you something, though?" Gold's voice stopped her in her motions, and when she turned around, he was looking at her intensively. "Could you name him Henry?"

She didn't ask why.

"Of course."

She watched him go, and she entered the house with a baby in her arms only when the sound of uneven steps down the street and a tap of a cane faded in the distance.

Now...

Heavy clouds hung over London, and the wind was blowing like crazy - a telltale sign that sooner rather than later, it would start to rain. There were no other people on the street that three men clad in black. A dark hat shadowed the middle one's eyes, and only a lightened cigarette was visible from under the brim. Slowly, as if without the care in the world, they approached the large, white house in which only one window on the top floor was illuminated by the lamp inside.

The two men took a step back, when the one with the hat rung the bell, flicking the cigarette away from his mouth at the same time. It took twenty seconds for the door to open, but only just so thanks to the chain.

"Can I help you, sir?" the blond girl asked, her eyes flicking between the three strangers, and the man in the hat grinned.

"I'm here with a message for the lady of the house if she's present?"

"She's busy and can't go down," the girl's tone was uneasy, the answer a little too quick and the smirk didn't leave the man's face.

"Well, that won't be the problem."

The slight nod of his head was the only indication the others had needed. The girl had no time to react as they barged in, tearing the door from the hinges.

"Get the boy," the man order with a bored tone. The girl tried to stop them, but it was to no avail when she got hit in the face, falling to the ground. She grunted and tried to get up only to be stopped by the man in the hat, pointing the gun at her. "I wouldn't recommend it, my dear."

She stayed still, staring at the barrel with wide eyes. It hadn't been long till they heard the sounds of a struggle and one of the goons appeared from the staircase, dragging a ten-year-old boy along with him.

"Let go of me!" he screamed while trashing and almost bitting his captor's hand. Amusing view, the man in a hat though, watching this amused from the corner of his eye.

"Shut it, kid!"

"Alice! What are you doing to her!"

"My, my, aren't we a feisty one?" The man asked, standing up and grinning. The kid shot daggers at him as one of the goons twisted his hands behind his back. There was no question to whose blood the kid was.

"Who are you?"

"Let's say I'm your designated driver for a family reunion," he answered while smirking. "Take him away."

"Don't touch him!"

"And you, sweetheart," he turned back to the girl. "Will relay a message for Miss Mills from me. "He bent down to be at the eye level with her. "Tell her that, Mr Pantazis sends his regards."

She got hit in the head, not getting a chance to answer and he got up.

"Sir?" One of his men indicated the door and Pantazis nodded. "Leave them open."

He watched as they loaded the boy into the car. Malcolm Gold had thought he held all the cards - he was wrong.

Pantazis whistled under his nose as he made his way to the car.

#once upon a time #Rumbelle #Rumbelle Fanfiction #golden lace #golden beauty #rumplestilskin #belle french #Rumbelle fic #my fic #ASTNE

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