#you can pet sharks there!!! i can’t even. i know i’ve seen it and had a breakdown about it before but connor’s hand when he pets the shark

[crossbackpoke-check]

the deweys photos are from this video: https://youtu.be/5xTwJho44ao?si=bPw8MZZ327lCogVZ aren’t they just everything

kissing you and the minnesota wild official media team (with consent) full on the mouth, THANK YOU THIS VIDEO IS EVERYTHING 🥰🥰 i have seen pieces of it before i think (connor petting a shark 🥹) but the entire video start to finish is such a delight, 10/10 would recommend

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | chapter thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Warnings: fluff like unbelievably fluffy!

word count: 6.1

here's the playlist for the fic, the last song in the playlist if looped will lead right into Amoreena at the beginning and it works pretty well timing-wise if you like to listen while you read !!

from the beginning <3

All their bags were packed by Friday morning, Y/N and Amoreena waking up extra early with excitement for the weekend ahead of them, and they didn’t even know what was going to happen yet.

Y/N made sure everything was packed and ready for a 3rd time on Saturday morning, right before they left on the trip; making sure they had sunscreen and aloe vera, all her medicine and ginger ale by the pack for her random bouts of morning sickness that lasted all, day, long... And their dresses and his suit hanging behind the driver's seat, beside Amoreena, they all piled into Y/N’s car and took off down the road on their adventure.

Amoreena was awake for the first half of the 9-hour trip, singing like crazy as they drove through Washington, Baltimore, Philadelphia and New York, it was so amazing she couldn’t stop cheering the whole time. It was more than she’s ever seen before, even though they lived so close to New York, she’s never been through it before.

Once they arrived in Rhode Island, Spencer pulled over at the closest gas station to make sure the girls were all prepared and ready for the big surprise he had for them. They filled the car, used the restroom and bought some lemonade before getting back into the car, he turned in the driver's seat to see Amoreena and Y/N better, looking at their wide eyes memorizing the calmness in their faces before he told them.

He didn’t want them to freak out too much, he was worried about Y/N’s blood pressure and how loud she might scream and any stress that a situation like this could put on her body. He’s seen how people react to Taylor Swift, he just didn’t know how they would.

“Now, I'm only telling you so you don't freak out," he repeated the same worry she had when she broke the news of the baby, "I didn’t have to rent a place on the water because my friend lives up here, so we’re going to stay in her guest house,” he explained it simply.

“Rossi's wife?” Y/N asked, confused about who it could be and if she knew this woman yet.

“No, actually I think you might know her, her name is Taylor?”

“No,” she shakes her head furiously, “no, nope, there's no way you did this, Spencer Walter Reid I am not kidding I’m going to pass away if I see her.” She's holding both her hands in fists as she tries to stay calm, closing her eyes quickly before letting out a deep sigh.

“Taylor who?” Amoreena yells, undoing her seatbelt and standing between their seats, she almost jumps into his lap as she leans over and grabs a fistful of his shirt, “Taylor WHO?”

“Go get in your seat and I’ll show you,” he teases, watching her follow orders and get back in the seat as quickly as possible, shouting at him to drive the second he hears the seatbelt click again.

Y/N is completely speechless for the next 20 minutes of the drive, eyes wide and a hand on her stomach as she stares out the front window. She’s like a statue, not able to hear anything Amoreena is saying but that doesn't stop her from going on and on with her stories.

“Mom!” She’s finally able to break her out of the haze, “pass me your phone!”

“Yeah,” she doesn’t even question it, handing her the phone back to the antsy 7-year-old so she could continue her internal panic.

They see her house on the hill as they approach, “holy shit,” Y/N whispers as Amoreena turns on the last great American dynasty, knowing exactly where they were going.

Taylor asked for his licence plate number and car model when they were emailing, letting her gate guy know to let Spencer right in so he could keep it a secret. But they knew the house, there was no point in not telling them. Y/N looked a little relieved that he gave her the time to freak out alone and not as soon as they crested the hill.

Her driveway felt never-ending as they got closer and closer, Amoreena was still in disbelief as she squealed in the back seat, hands flailing as she tried to calm the excitement inside her body with her favourite stim.

Then Taylor walked out into the front yard and Y/N was a mess. Crying as she waved her hand in front of her face, not wanting to be a mess in front of Taylor fucking Swift, “I told you nothing crazy! How did you do this?”

“Yes, but I said 'define crazy’ and you didn’t,” he reminds her with a cheeky smile.

She shoves him, “I didn’t think you could do this?!”

Once they’re parked the door automatically unlocked, and as much as spencer hated that non-safety feature, he's glad Amoreena can get out quickly before she's screaming bloody murder. Amoreena is out the door and in Taylor’s arms faster than they’ve ever seen her move, she should be a track star. It almost knocks Taylor to the ground as she takes her in, holding the sweet little girl against her chest with the biggest smile on her face. Amoreena snuggles right into her, with a hand on her cheek and her other arm wrapped behind her neck. She couldn't be any closer to her, it was like she was her favourite relative who she hasn't seen in a while.

Amoreena is talking her ear off already by the time Spencer’s helping Y/N out of the car and walking her to Taylor, she’s holding his hand like she’s going to pass out or something, “and this is my mom Y/N and my dad Spencer but somehow you know him already,” Amoreena introduces her.

“Hi, Y/N, it's a pleasure to meet you, Spencer's told me a lot about you.” Taylor’s sweet voice saying her name alone makes her stutter out a bunch of nonsense, not to mention the fact Spencer's been talking to Taylor fucking Swift about her.

Amoreena moves out of the way for Taylor to wrap her up in a hug, and Y/N cries harder than he’s ever seen on her shoulder, “thank you,” is all she can say, it’s frightening to Amoreena at first to see her mom cry like that but she knows her mom just loves Taylor like family.

What she doesn’t know is just how much Taylor saved her life. If she didn’t have someone to listen to, someone to take the pain and replace it with hope, she wouldn’t be here and by default neither would Amoreena. Spencer owed everything to Taylor swift at this point, she was a blessing in his life that he took for granted. Not realizing until that moment just how much she meant to him as well now.

“Sorry,” Y/N finally says as she pulls off her, “I’m pregnant, I can’t help it.”

Taylor’s hands fly right to her stomach, “holy crap, you never told me that she’s pregnant in your emails, oh my god!” She’s genuinely so happy for them, “how far along are you?”

“6 weeks on Sunday,” she smiles, feeling like herself again even though it’s incredibly strange to be telling Taylor before her parents even knew. “No one really knows, it’s all very new but when you know, you know… y’know?”

For a woman with an English language degree, she sure knew how to make a sentence, all of them laughing at the words she chose, but they understood.

“We should have used paper rings!” Amoreena yells, holding her hand over her eyes in disbelief as she shares her head with a sigh, she couldn’t believe she forgot that song existed.

It made Taylor laugh, scooping the little one up in her arms and starting the walk inside.

“Well come on in, I’ve got a big lunch spread ready for us and then we can go to the beach for the ceremony whenever you want this weekend, does that sound good?” Taylor is beyond excited to make new friends, much like Amoreena, they got along famously.

“Where are the cats? Do they live here or in LA or Nashville?” Amoreena changed the topic in the form of a yes and proving just how much she knew about Taylor.

“They’re here, Olivia and Benjamin will probably find us soon, Meredith isn’t very open to new friends now that she’s an old lady,” Taylor explained as she set Amoreena down in the entryway, bending down to be at her level and pointing off into the living room, “oh, see, there one is!”

Amoreena saw one of them laying on the floor under a sunny spot, running to it and petting it gently, “hi Benjamin, I loved you in the ME video,” she whispers as she pets him, making Taylor swoon.

“She’s amazing,” Taylor swooned, “I can’t wait to have one.”

“You should!” Y/N agreed, reaching to take Taylor's hand on impulse, and Taylor held it back with a smile, “oh that would be so wonderful, I can just imagine the beautiful stories you’ll create when you discover what it’s like to love someone how your mom loves you.”

Taylor’s smile was priceless, "that's the best way to think about it," she beamed at Y/N the way Spencer did, she had that effect on people. They followed her into the dining room, taking a seat near each other and digging into all the food Taylor made for them.

“Ah,” Amoreena said as she finally joined them, sitting on her knees on Taylors nice antique chairs. “Shark coochie,” she whispers the words to herself, not able to stop her mind from repeating it, but still not wanting Taylor to hear it in case it was inappropriate. She was incredibly well-mannered for someone who had a hard time reading social queues.

“It’s a hard word to say,” Taylor agreed, making her feel less awkward. Spencer may have told her about her autism in advance, wanting his little girl to be respected by everyone she met, for who she truly was, “my mom called it a coochie spread once, actually, she's going to be over tomorrow for father's day.”

"Yes! Oh, I love Andrea," Amoreena laughed at how cool this day was, smiling at Taylor the way she smiled at him that first morning at breakfast like she just found yet another person to love. “You’re so wonderful, Taylor.”

“Oh, thank you, you're pretty enchanting yourself,” she smiles, “I take it you’ve known about me for your whole life?”

“Yep,” she smiled, reaching for a chocolate-covered strawberry and taking a huge bite, covering her mouth before she continued, “I was born a month after Red came out, November thirteenth, it really is a lucky number now, mom says so at least.”

“It is!” Taylor agreed with a smile, “I have some markers, do you want to wear matching 13’s today?”

“Mom, can I colour on my hand?” She turns so fast Spencer thinks she’ll get whiplash.

“Yeah, go for it!” She agrees, spreading cream cheese on a croissant and layering tomatoes on top, definitely pregnant.

So Taylor gets a marker and both their left hands now have matching numbers. Amoreena asks to take a million photos, eventually just taking Y/N’s phone from her, permanently, to take photos of all her favourite things around the house.

She runs off with the cats at a certain point, giving Y/N a chance to thank Taylor without tiny ears listening in. “Can I get really emotional and tell you how much you mean to me or is that too weird for our first chat?”

“Not weird at all, knowing you’ve used my music to raise that beautiful child makes me love you just as much, I’d love to hear why you picked me, of all musicians, to show her how to love,” Taylor replies, as regal and kindly as humanly possible.

“My first fiancé, Stephen, he was actually like an angel and our first kiss was quite literally in the rain, but he passed away in 2010,” she explained it with a smile so Taylor knew it wasn’t a touchy subject anymore, “I bonded with Fearless in a way I can’t even describe to you, it’s my life, he was my superstar, and white horse, I mean come on, I can’t tell you how many times I cried to that after he died but it helped me not feel alone. I wouldn’t be who I am without Fearless, and then Speak Now was there for me when I needed a good cry, Last Kiss really broke me but it wasn’t until Lover came out that I realized I could find someone again, and it’s always just like you released things as I needed them like you were helping me through all the bad things,” she’s never even told Spencer all this, it was special to him that he got to give her this moment.

“When you re-released it with the vault songs, I met Spencer literally a month later. I cried my eyes out to you all over me, but That’s When makes me think of Spencer and now the whole album has a new memory in my heart that’s better. It's just like why you re-released it, to replace the bad things that happened that took all the happiness out of something you cared so much about." Y/N took a second to breathe, shaky as she got to the end of her rant that she seemed to have prepared in the 20 minutes before she had to talk to her.

"I love you, honestly. You’re my best friend and you didn’t even know me then, but you’ve held my hand through it all, so thank you,” she cried a little, holding her belly with one hand as she tried to hold the tears in.

Taylor was out of her chair and in Y/N’s arms within seconds, crying into her arms as she held her. She rubbed Y/N’s back as she cried too, “I’m so sorry that happened, but I’m glad I could be there.”

“Do you want to be this baby's godmother?” She asks on impulse without even asking Spencer if he’s okay with it, he was, it made him laugh.

“Eleonora Taylor Reid,” Spencer says from across the table, making them both turn to him with wide eyes.

“Yes,” Y/N agrees fast, “that's the name if it’s a girl, if it’s a boy he can be Taylor as well?”

“Holy shit,” Taylor smiled wide, “yes, I want to come to visit the farm and buy them baby gifts and throw you a baby shower! I inadvertently helped make them so it’s only fair.”

“Hopefully she gets your voice too, Y/N,” Spencer adds and Y/N shoots him a panicked glance, “it’s the Taylor legacy to be a good singer.”

“You can sing?” The question Y/N feared coming past Taylor's lovely vocal cords, almost on queue.

Y/N can't help but glare at spencer, he had too many tricks up his sleeve and she was at her limit.

“Yes,” Y/N finally answers, “I was going to go to theatre school, but I switched to become a Librarian, I’m not good with crowds or competition and that's basically what the industry depends on. I like the quiet, telling stories on paper is just as easy as singing it to a crowd.”

“That's fair,” Taylor agreed, “would you and Amoreena like to sing some song with me? I have my guitar or the piano? I’m not used to having new friends over without sharing at least 1 song with them. I’m sure you’ve seen my listening parties?” She was really trying to convince her to sing, Spencer knew why and what she had planned.

Amoreena came running in then, “I can play piano too, can we do the long live new year's day from the tour movie?” She rests her hands on Taylor's arm, looking up at her with the biggest puppy dog eyes.

“Of course, come on,” she says taking Amoreena’s hand and rushing into the piano room. “Here, we’ll record it too,” she offered, setting her phone up on the music stand to capture the moment forever.

They sat side by side on the bench, Amoreena showing her how she could play the opening perfectly and surprising Spencer. He knew they had a piano at home, he’s just never seen her play it before.

“She has perfect pitch,” Y/N bragged, “she can play a song after hearing it once.”

“Really?” Spencer had no idea, unbelievably proud of her as he listened to her play.

She’s quietly playing the intro to Long Live as Taylor watches, joining in with the harmony of New Year's Day, “this one reminds me of my mom and dad.”

“Does it?” Taylor coo’s, smiling at her softly as Y/N tries not to cry beside Spencer.

“They’re the knight and the princess of our kingdom,” she explained before the two of them started singing the words together, like they always have, only Taylor was beside her and not just on the TV.

“I said remember this moment, in the back of my mind, the time we stood with our shaking hands, the crowds in the stands went wild,” Amoreena’s tiny voice lead-in, fearlessly as she played away.

“We were the Kings and the Queens, and they read off our names, the night you danced like you knew our lives would never be the same... You held your head like a hero, on a history book page... It was the end of a decade, but the start of an age,” Spencer couldn’t help but cry as she sang with Taylor.

This was on the concert movie, he showed her after school, this song came on and she was silent, listening to the words as she stared at him and then back at the TV. Her mind was connecting little dots, making a story about her mom and dad being the king and the queen, it all made sense now.

“Long live the walls we crashed through, how the kingdom lights shined just for me and you, I was screaming long live, all the magic we made and bring on all the pretenders, I’m not afraid,

Long live all the mountains we moved, I had the time of my life, fighting dragons with you, I was screaming long live, that look on your face, and bring on all the pretenders, one day, we will be remembered,”

Their fingers moved in sync on the keys as they harmonized almost perfectly, she wasn’t kidding about Amoreena having perfect pitch. She knew all the words and sang them almost louder than Taylor.

“And hold on to spinning around, confetti, falls to the ground. May these memories break our fall…”

The piano changes, the cords softer as they move into a new song, smiling at her mom and dad like she knew something. She had no idea what happened the night of the fake wedding, just that they had a party without her.

“And hold on… To spinning around… Confetti… Falls to the ground…”

Spencer wraps his arms around Y/N then, resting his chin on her shoulder as they sway to the tune, she’s barely whispering the words beside him as she smiles as her baby.

“There's glitter on the floor after the party, girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby, candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor, you and me from the night before, but… Don’t read the last page, but I stay when you're lost, and I'm scared and you're turning away. I want, your midnights, I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day,”

Y/N’s hands rest on top of Spencer’s, she squeezes them three times, right before the next lyric.

“You squeeze my hand three times in the back of the taxi, I can tell that it's gonna be a long road. I’ll be there if you're the toast of the town, babe, or if you strike out and you're crawling home,

Don't read the last page, but I stay, when it’s hard or it’s wrong or we’re making mistakes. I want, your midnights, but I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day,”

“Hold on, to the memories, they will hold on to you,” the two of them chanting along with Taylor in beautiful harmony, Spencer felt like he was in heaven among the angels, but for real this time. “And I will hold on to you…”

The piano is so soft, it’s just Amoreena’s fingers hitting them as Taylor goes silent, letting her take the lead with a soft smile, “Please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh, I, could recognize anywhere. Please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh, I, could recognize anywhere.”

They stop for just a moment for Amoreena to smile up at Taylor, just like the break in the concert, “I really do love you,” she reminds them all before playing again.

“We love you, too, sweet girl,” Taylor replies for them using the same nickname for her because it was the truth. She was the sweetest girl, that Amoreena.

“There's glitter on the floor after the party, girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby, candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor. You and me forevermore, don't read the last page, but I stay when it’s hard or it’s wrong or we’re making mistakes and I want, your midnights, but I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day,”

“Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you,” the girls all chant together, swaying back and forth to the rhythm before taking different parts in the song like they’ve planned it before.

“And Long live,” Taylor takes the one song, while Amoreena takes the other.

Please don't ever become a stranger…

The walls we crashed through..

Whose laugh I could recognize anywhere…

I had the time of my life

Please don't ever become a stranger…

With you…

Whose laugh I could recognize anywhere…"

Amoreena plays the rest, smiling wide at the best day of her life. Meaning every single word she’s saying. “And Long live, the walls we crashed through. I had the time of my life… With you…” Amoreena ends with a few extra notes, making Taylor smile as she held her in a side hug.

She turns back to the piano then, starting to play Amoreena by Elton John. “No way..” Y/N gasps, before getting ready to sing along with all the confidence in the world, alongside Taylor Swift of all people.

“It’s just that; Lately, I've been thinking, how much I miss my lady, Amoreena's in the hayfield, brightening the daybreak,” Taylor changes some of the words, much to Y/N surprise.

“Livin’ like a lusty flower, runnin’ through the grass for hours, rollin’ through the hay, oooh, like a puppy child! And when it rains, the rain falls down… washing out the cattle town… and she's far away somewhere… in her eiderdown… And she dreams of crystal streams, of days gone by when we would lean… Laughing, fit to burst, upon each other…”

Y/N turns to Spencer then, singing to him softly as she wraps her arms around him and sways her hips to the song, pressing against him like they were in the movie Dirty Dancing, something she’s always wanted to do, clearly, with the smile on her face as she sings.

“I can see you sittin’, eatin’, apples in the evenin’. Fruit juice, flowing slowly, slowly, slowly down the bronze of your body. Livin’, like a lusty flower, runnin’ through the grass for hours, rollin’ through the hay, oooh, like a puppy child.”

Amoreena’s voice was the loudest in the chorus, this was her song after all. She belted it out like it was made for her.

“And when it rains, the rain falls down! Washing out the cattle town! And she's far away somewhere… in her eiderdown! And she dreams of crystal streams, of days gone by! When we would lean, laughing, fit to burst upon each other…”

Spencer knew the words as well, who didn’t? It was Elton John's best song. He hugged Y/N, snuggling into the crook of her neck as they twirled in Taylor Swift's living room, swaying with her, forgetting they weren’t alone for a moment.

“Oh, if only I could nestle, in the cradle of your cabin. My arm's around your shoulder, oh… The window wide and open, while the swallow and the sycamore, whoa! Are playing in the valley. Oh, I miss you, Amoreena, like the king bee misses honey!”

“And when it rains, the rain falls down! Washing out the cattle town! and she's far away somewhere… in her eiderdown! And she dreams of crystal streams, of days gone by when we would lean! Laughing, fit to burst upon each other, oooh!”

Amoreena and Taylor playing the iconic piano solo together, Y/N can’t help but move in closer to watch over her little girls shoulders.

“Lately, I've been thinking… How much I miss my lady… Amoreena's in a cornfield, brightening the daybreak. Livin’, like a lusty flower! Runnin; through the grass for hours! Rollin’ through the hay, woah! Like a puppy, like a puppy, child…” Y/N’s voice loud enough to be on the recording Taylor was making as the song ended.

Taylor stopped it then, just as Y/N swore, “holy shit, that was the coolest thing that’s ever happened in my whole life.”

“Mom,” Amoreena looked at her like she broke the law or something, “you don’t swear in front of her…” she mumbled.

Taylor laughed, wrapping her up in another hug, “have you heard champagne problems? It’s okay for big kids to swear here,” she teased her.

They laughed like they were family like they’ve been there before and were always meant to return. Something just clicked with them, and without a doubt, they’d be returning. Taylor Swift of all people slipped right into their little life, filling the shoes of big sister, best friend and coolest aunt in the world all in one day.

It was the most perfect afternoon.

—

Just before the sunset, they all changed into their wedding attire. Meeting out on the beach for their small, extremely intimate wedding ceremony with miss Taylor Swift. Getting it out of the way so they could have the whole weekend for whatever Taylor had planned for them. She said she had a few surprises up her sleeve still.

They filled out all the paperwork required on Taylor's kitchen table beforehand, she had all the right documents from when she registered to ordain online. All they had to do was submit it at town hall and they’d be legally married.

But it didn’t matter to them, this was enough.

Taylor and Amoreena stood side by side at a homemade arch on the beachfront that Taylor owned, waiting patiently for Spencer and Y/N to walk down the fake aisle, hand in hand. They couldn’t stop smiling as they saw Amoreena at the end, a big smile on her face as she bounced with excitement.

They reached the end, turning to each other, Amoreena took Y/N’s bouquet, it was her duty as maid of honour and best man.

“Spencer and I have been emailing for 2 weeks about today, he’s been filling me in little by little about you both as he got to know you, I’ve really gotten to see his love for you in the form of letters,” Taylor described with a large smile on her face.

Y/N looks at him with an open mouth, shocked as she shakes her head in disbelief at him. “You’re kidding, is she who emailed you when we had lunch 2 weeks ago?”

Spencer nodded with another cheeky smile, “she emailed me as you told me not to plan anything too crazy.”

Y/N just laughed at the insanity, “sorry Taylor, please continue.”

“It’s okay,” she laughed along, “it’s actually kind of interesting how Amoreena picked long live and New Year’s Day to sing because from what I’ve learned about you both, the intermission poem from that tour really was written for you, somehow. Almost like by design or some violent, exquisite happenstance…”

Y/n’s eyed do that thing they always do when she’s remembering something she’s heard before, finding the exact filing cabinet in her mind and opening it. She finds the words.

“When she fell, she fell apart. Cracked her bones on the pavement she once decorated as a child with sidewalk chalk,” she starts the poem with a small nod, letting Taylor continue the monologue in the form of vows.

“When’s she crashed, her clothes disintegrated. And blew away with the winds that took all of her fair-weather friends, family and lovers. When she looked around her skin was spattered with ink. Forming the words of a thousand voices, echoes she heard even in her sleep: whatever you say, it is not right. Whatever you do, it is not enough. Your kindness is fake. Your pain is manipulative.”

Y/N hasn’t watched the concert recently, unlike Spencer. She didn’t realize how much it sounded like them. Spencer, however, spotted the coincidences the second he heard it that night with Amoreena. Telling Taylor, explaining in detail how Maeve and Stephen were their personal last kiss storylines, but they’ve found a lover in each other. Cheesy, but it was the best way he could describe it.

“When she lay there on the ground she dreamed of time machines and revenge. And a love that was really something. Not just the idea of something.”

She turned her attention to Spencer, replacing the pronouns to fit him for the next part, Y/N looked at him already knowing why, smiling as she made the connection in her mind.

“When he finally rose, he rose slowly. Avoiding old haunts and sidestepping shiny pennies. Wary of phone calls and promises, charmers, dandies and get-love-quick-schemes.

When he stood, he stood with a desolate knowingness, waded out into the dark wild oceans up to his neck. Bathed in his brokenness. Said a prayer of gratitude, for each chink in the armour he never knew he needed.

Standing broad-shouldered next to him, was a love that was really something. Not just the idea of something.

When they turned to go home, they heard echoes of new words: may your heart remain breakable but never by the same hand twice. And even louder: without your past, you could never have arrived so wondrously and brutally, by design or some violent, exquisite happenstance… here.”

“What she said,” Y/N says with a quick giggle, leaning in as she laughs, taking him down in a giggle fit with her.

Amoreena’s lightly tugging on Taylor’s dress then, “you have to say it, please you can’t not say it, I had this planned out before I even knew you’d beee here…” she whispers like Taylor has any clue what she’s talking about.

Y/N just starts to shake her head with a smile, “I think she means the speak now bridge,” she reminds her.

“Ahh,” she smiles, picking Amoreena up to be at eye level with them all, she sings. “I hear the preacher say speak now or forever hold, your, pee-E-eeace,” she sings it exactly like it is on the album, almost as if she’s been practicing to release it again…

“There’s the silence there’s my last chance, I stand up with shaking hands all eyes, on me,” Amoreena lightly signs right back. “Horrified looks from everyone in the room but I’m only looking at you!”

Spencer laughs then too, smiling at his little girl living out the fantasy of a lifetime, seeing her mom dressed like a princess and marrying the broken knight with rusty armour, while Taylor Swift of all people holds her. Nothing about the life they had together felt real, but he wouldn’t change it for the world.

“I think it’s only fair if I get a say in who marries my mom because I’ve known her the longest,” she adds, “and I’m not the kind of girl who should be rudely barging in on this white veil occasion, but you happen to be the best dad in the whole world, so I think it’s cool that you love my mom.”

Y/N lets out a choked sob, she clearly had no idea that Amoreena was planning to say all that, but of course, she was. She knew all about every single Disney princess wedding, every fairytale ending and happily ever after, Taylor has helped her learn about love and vows and true feelings that cannot be stopped.

She knew what to say and she meant every word.

Spencer reaches out to take Amoreena from Taylor, holding her in his arms instead as Y/N snuggled in close to them, both his girls in his arms.

“I think it’s only fair I give some vows to you as well, I’m committing my whole life to this family, you should know how much that means I love you, too, Amoreena.” She snuggles in closer to his neck as she holds him back, Y/N’s head resting on his other shoulder.

“Till the day I die, I am going to be here for you: with unconditional love, with the best stories and the best morning cuddles. I don’t care if you pull me out of bed at 5 in the morning to feed the goats, or the chickens or just because you think the sun looks pretty and want me to see it too. I love you Amoreena, you’ve completed my life."

"Do you remember that day you asked me to be your dad?” his voice is so soft as he bumps her cheek with his nose.

She wipes her tears as she pulls away from his shoulder, overly emotional at the events of the day and extremely tired from the excitement she let out earlier. She nods softly, “I meant it.”

“I know honey,” he can’t help but start to cry a little as well, dropping his manly facade and being real with her. She deserved to see exactly what she meant to him, “I watched you pouring glitter glue all over that table, making the biggest mess ever, but it made me think… I had a hole in my heart for so many years, there was a part of me missing for so, so, so long, and then I found a little Eden by beautiful little kingdom, and the fairest lady in all the land took me in, and she patched up my broken heart with glitter glue.”

Amoreena tried to smile the tears away, sniffling as she tried to nod, “that's how I felt when you told me I could pick you to be my dad.”

Y/N was a sobbing mess, having to crouch down to her knees as she let it all out, steadying herself by holding onto Spencer’s leg like a child would at that height, “is she okay?” Amoreena worried.

“Your mom loves us so much, and the baby does too, so it’s making her a bit more emotional than normal,” he explains, wishing he could scoop Y/N up and hold her as well.

She wipes the tears from her face as she calms herself down and stands back up with help from Taylor, “thank you,” she manages to whisper to her with a smile.

She’s also been crying, watching the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. A family built on true love coming together, using her songs to form a bond that she’d never understand.

And she didn’t want to, some stories were best kept in families, to be sent down the line, generation after generation, to fall into the lap of someone like her one day and create a whole world with it.

“With the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband, wife and daughter, the royal Reid family,” Taylor’s voice is soft as she plays along with Amoreena’s fantasy land, hushed to match the moment as Spencer leaned in to kiss Y/N.

Amoreena doesn’t cry out in disgust this time, instead, resting her head on her dad's shoulder as she watched them peck each other's lips gently. Watching a fairytale happy ending unfold in front of her very eyes, blessed to be the result of this happy union.

...

A/N: my anon is on now if anyone wants to come talk about the fic with me!! i love to share little hc's and things with you over here (also this was the original planned ending I wasn't going to continue past here but I'm probably going to write this for the next 10 years its too fun not to)

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187

[lilydalexf]

Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with MustangSally

MustangSally has 33 stories at Gossamer. Even if you haven’t read it, you’ve probably heard of at least one of them, Iolokus, since it’s an X-Files fanfic classic. All her fics hit big and are well worth your time. I’ve recced some of my favorites here before, including And Dance by the Light of the Moon, All the Children are Insane, and Iolokus. Big thanks to MustangSally for doing this interview.

What's the story behind your pen name?

I could tell you but then I would have to kill you.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

Yes and no. Yes, because life has moved on since the early nineties and the characters and the fans are in vastly different places now. Our current tech would make the premise of the X-Files impossible. No, because of the longevity of some of the Star Trek TOS work (there’s an archive of hard copy fanzines at the University of Iowa). Top-drawer authors started out in TOS fandom.

I’m just greatly saddened that my physical body is showing wear and tear while the fic doesn’t. Fic gets to stay smooth-skinned and muscular, captured at the peak of perfection.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

At the risk of sounding atrociously trite, I think of the friends I made.  I met some very remarkable women that I’ve been able to stay friends with online for over twenty-five years.  We may have moved to Facebook and post entirely too much about our pets and which of our body parts has sagged this week, but we’re friends.  It’s a furiously funny, feminist, and well-educated group of women with jobs in the highest levels of academia, finance, communications, and media.  I’m amused by the fact that if I have a question about how a virus replicates, I can ask a PhD I’ve been drunk with in Las Vegas.

Back in the day, I had a job that sent me traveling around major cities in the US and UK. I could post on a message board and within ten minutes there were people I could go out for dinner and drinks with. We already knew we had something we could talk about for at least a couple of hours. Additionally, most of these people were women so there was an added level of security. Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

Well, it was mostly atxc and the Yahoo! groups mailing lists that spiraled out into Geocities sites and, eventually, LiveJournal. The amusing thing is that getting in on the ground floor of social media and the Internet has helped me get jobs!  When I look at a new piece of software, I think, ‘this is hella easier than uploading to Geocities.’  We had to walk uphill both ways, in the snow, on dial-up, fighting off dinosaurs with our AOL CDs while writing HTML code. What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

DO NOT FEED THE TROLLS.

The past four years in politics have basically been the ugliest online kerfuffle the world has ever seen. I survived the Shipper Wars of ’96 and I thought those were brutal, but that was NOTHING. The only way to win an argument online is to not have the argument at all. Arguing with a troll is like mudwrestling a pig: You both get filthy and only the pig is happy.

Also, READ THE FUCKING TERMS OF SERVICE.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

I had the most terrible straight-girl crush on Scully. I wanted to be her best friend, I wanted to BE her.  I wanted to order Chinese food and paint each other’s nails and talk about bones.  Scully and Princess Leia and I could all just hang out poolside with hot and cold running waiters and poolboys, drink margaritas, and bitch about how unfair it all was – if the stupid men would just get OUT OF THE WAY AND LET US DO OUR JOBS, the world would be so much better. What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

This question is really about Iolokus, isn’t it?  You can’t fool me. [Lilydale note: I can neither confirm nor deny the motivation for this question, but I cannot complain about the answer.]

Simply put, I was enraged. The moment it was revealed that Scully’s ova had been used in experimentation, I lost my feminist mind. It was the most obscene defilement imaginable.  Scully wasn’t nearly as angry as I was.  What I thought needed to happen was for Scully to become a fiery force of vengeance against the MEN who had done this to her.  Clearly, I was not going to get that level of satisfaction from the show, as I was imagining Kali-like carnage on a global scale. I emailed RivkaT (whom I did not know well at that point) with a proposition that we work together. Strangely enough, we didn’t meet face to face until we were well into the project, but we did talk on the phone quite a bit. The rules were simple – everyone had to be punished in truly horrific ways, and at some point, we had to see if we could write a car chase (only because that seemed impossible).  Then it basically turned into a very twisted game of chicken to see who could be the most outrageous in terms of killing people off or writing really horrific things that fit within the structure of the narrative.  I did, in the end, write the car chase, but RivkaT one-upped me by throwing in a helicopter (a FOX News helicopter, at that).  

Really, RivkaT?  A helicopter? What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom? I am terribly proud of what I wrote, pleased that it brought pain and pleasure in equal amount to people, and, again, thrilled by the people I became friends with. I admit that I stopped watching the show when Scully announced her pregnancy.  I could only see a long jump over a shark tank for the rest of the series. I haven’t watched the new episodes, either.  It is complete in my mind and doesn’t need to be continued.  I wouldn’t say no to having a reunion with some of my fic friends, although we’re still chatting online like everyone does.   Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

Rivka and I wrote in the Buffy fandom for a few years, but then we moved on to real adult jobs that left absolutely no time for me to write. I’m in education, and I regularly sweat blood for fear that someone is going to find my old fic. The Buffy people were fun; there was a certain *shininess* to them that I really enjoyed. The X-men authors were just batshit and delightful, and some amazing stuff came out of Marvel fandom, particularly in the Thor/Loki and Steve/Bucky subgenres. I’ve learned to appreciate a good coffee shop AU and one famous Erik/Charles fic where all the main characters are crabs. Seriously, crabs—it’s hysterical. [Lilydale note: Other Crabs Cannot Be Trusted by groovyphilia currently has almost 2,500 kudos at AO3.]

Every few years, I’ll have a student try to explain to me what fandom is and I just smirk. Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully? No. Not really. Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom? I fell into an X-Men hole a few years back and had a great old time wallowing in the Cherik muck, and there was a flirtation with BBC Sherlock as well. Strangely enough, I became interested in A/B/O fics only because of what they were saying about the role of women in our society. The limitations on the male omegas seem absurd and then you realize those are the same limitations put on women all. the. time.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

RivkaT very nicely formatted everything and put it up on AO3. What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

I will always be stupidly proud of how shocked and horrified people were by Iolokus. The truth of the matter is that Iolokus has Greek drama at its core. Scully is Medea, and the entire story is lousy with “blood on the threshing floor” and Dionysian rites. The everyday is subverted into horror, and wives and daughters will tear men limb from limb like the Maenads. Since I was ultimately disappointed with what Chris Carter did with the entire show, that approach seemed appropriate.

At a certain level, all fic is corrective fic.  Like critic Anne Jamison said, “Irritated fans produce fanfic like irritated oysters produce pearls.”  And because fic has fallen so much into women’s sphere, a pure form of correction is not just the death of the author but the MURDER, a new creation springing up from the spilled blood like Cadmus sowing dragon’s teeth.

Okay, that’s a bit much. Maybe I should just take myself back to the isle of Goth Amazons or something. Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

I had to write a self-evaluation and a reflection on pedagogy today. If that’s not fiction, I don’t know what the fuck is.

All my creativity is caught up in trying to pretend to be a normal middle-aged white woman so no one knows I am really a lizard.

Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?

Keep writing, keep reading, keep fighting the commercialization of narratives. As things grow more and more commodified, all our dreams and desires reduced to tchotchkes made in China, it’s a revolutionary act to separate your work from the marketplace. Be bold, take chances, turn the trope on its ear and kick it in the ass. Take everything the creators have done to make a work palatable to the unwashed masses and set it on fire.

Be subversive.

Be mean.

Have a great fucking time.

(Posted by Lilydale on March 2, 2021)

[sunnysviolin]

Do you ever consider the implications of Sunny helping all the side characters with their day to day life problems and the exact problems he's helping? Preventing a divorce because of an accident? Helping a father connect to his son who's different while he's putting pressure on his daughter? Helping another father learn how to connect with his son at all? Trying to help someone who's constantly trying to fix something that eventually gets fixed by having someone come and help?

Pt 2: Like maybe I might be digging too big into symbolism but if you dig _really_ deep down into it you can find bits of symbolism in almost every single thing Sunny does in headspace to help others, almost like it's mirroring a lot of the issues he personally dealt with himself. I just think it's neat!

So the entirety of dream world is Sunny’s subconscious. It’s not just the Black Space (Although that is the *deep* subconscious right there...wooof) so I definitely think that some of the side quests are him working out how to solve his own problems. This is actually something all of us do in our dreams, some of us more than others- Hello to my personal hell of knowing I’ve been somewhere in a dream before even though I’ve never been there in person. It happens constantly -_- Ask anyone who knows me occasionally when I go somewhere brand new I’ll have Jason Bourne-esque flashbacks to a dream I had years ago in full color HD. It’s freaky but that’s how it be

N E WAYS

For Sunny specifically, I think the side quests are targeted more towards issues he’s dealt with for a long period in his life. I’ve talked about this in another meta, but I think Sunny had his dreamworld long before what happened to Mari. It’s a series of lovingly crafted daydreams that he used to escape his life or when things got too hard being ‘Sunny’ It was only the trauma of killing Mari that caused all of his dreams to be mashed together in an effort to quash down the black space. 

Going back to his dream world though, the side quests he solves are usually family related or small things. Find lost toys, make friends happy, things he probably did a lot in his normal day to day life. The family related ones, well they’re all related to bringing families closer together. Sunny is a very perceptive person, and we can assume at the very least his father was hard to be around for him. I think specifically of the Whereabouts of Duckie Jr. quest. A dreamy boy who gets lost in his head a lot and a father who is affectionatly frustrated by this? Yeah that’s very much Sunny 

Long story short I don’t think your digging into symbolism at all!! This is a great short paper on Jungian Dream Theory and this is how I view Omori. Everything has a symbolism but it’s specific symbolism to Sunny. That’s why Pluto looks like Kel’s real life pet rock, but why Dream Kel’s pet rock is named after his actual pet Hector. It’s the reason that his blackjack game in real life has a shark mascot and Mr. Jawsum is a shark in the Last Resort. Symbolism goes from the lightest layers to the darkest depths (Re: why I think the strangers take the form of Basil specifically) 

It’s also why Sunny’s dream world so quickly begins to deteriorate after he goes out for the first time in four years. His subconcious can add new context to everything, Sunny is reshaping the narrative to include what he now knows to be true. Someone pointed out that after Day one, Aubrey and Kel’s follow up move makes them both enraged. That’s directly linked to the fact that Sunny knows his friends loathe each other because of what he did. He can’t escape it anymore, he’s seen it with his own eyes. It’s why the scarecrow says all of those mean things to Hero (Sunny realizing that Hero has become broken by Mari’s death- Hero who was strong and perfect to him) Sunny was saved because he could no longer escape, because he had the strength to get out of his house and face the world that he had shaped through his actions- the real one not his dreams 

But more than anything Sunny was saved because Kel never stopped reaching out for him. 

[cuubism]

23? Malec? Idk I like angst ☺️

it’s been five whole months. you wanted angst. i didn’t even write angst. i’m sorry anon, i’ve failed you. 

**

23 – “Just tell me why you did it!” “Because I’m in love with you, okay?”

(ao3 link)

Hanging from the edge of a rogue interdimensional portal wasn’t exactly how Magnus preferred to spend his evenings, but alas it was where he found himself this night. The portal swirled below him, dragging him downwards to Lilith knew where, and try as he might Magnus could not seem to find the strength to pull himself out.

All he could do was hold on to the amorphous edge of the thing and try not to fall in any further.

He knew it was a mistake to help the Shadowhunters with a problem. Incompetent fools, the lot of them.

“Magnus!”

Magnus grit his teeth, scrambling desperately to pull himself out and only slipping further. As if this day wasn’t bad enough, his beautiful accursed Shadowhunter sort-of-ex-sort-of-almost-boyfriend was here. Magnus had been trying and failing to get his heart to forget him, though it wasn’t exactly easy when Alec insisted on continually inserting himself into Magnus’s life.

“Magnus!”

“I’m a little busy here—” Magnus tried to bite, but lost his train of thought as a particularly strong current in the portal yanked on him and he almost lost his grip.

Alec skidded to his knees beside him, reaching out a hand. His eyes looked wild. There was a smear of ichor across his forehead and a bloody tear in the shoulder of his jacket. “Grab on to my hand!”

Curse him for being so pretty and wonderful and concerned and fucking impossible. After the first few promising evenings spent together, Alec had seemingly changed his mind about them, and subsequently made his disinterest in Magnus quite clear. He was probably only saving him now so the Institute would get to keep their most stupidly helpful Warlock.

Now if only Magnus’s foolish heart could get the message that he wasn’t wanted.

Feeling suddenly quite petty, and quite angry, though he was in no position to be either, Magnus leaned back and away from Alec’s hand, snarling, “I don’t need your help.”  

“You can yell at me later, just let me pull you up!”

“I can do it my—”

His handhold gave out.

Suddenly Magnus found himself tumbling, the world spinning and swirling around him like he was falling down a drain. His heart lurched into his throat, but it lasted only a moment before he was splashing down, quite literally, into the center of an enormous lake.

He burst up through the surface, choking and spluttering, treading water with some difficulty as his clothes started weighing him down.

He looked around. It was completely dark, no lights anywhere to be seen, and the shore seemed quite far away.

Well. Wasn’t that just swell.

Magnus was just about ready to swear off ever even talking to Shadowhunters again when there was a yelp and a loud splash beside him, and a second later Alec’s head popped up out of the water.

Magnus could not believe what he was seeing. “Did you follow me in, or are you so incompetent you actually fell in yourself?”

“I followed you.” He said it so deadpan, totally ignoring Magnus’s jibe, that Magnus swallowed the rest of the rude words balanced on the back of his tongue.

“Why on earth—”

“I couldn’t let you just land in a dangerous place by yourself.”

Magnus pressed his lips together, looking away. “Can’t let the Institute’s pet Warlock get eaten by sharks, I suppose.”

“No, I— wait, are there sharks here?” Alec spun in a circle, looking around as if one might pop its head out of the water at any moment, and Magnus sighed.

“It’s a lake, Alexander.”

“Oh. Right.”

Magnus rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “If you’re quite finished being a self-sacrificing idiot, can we please get out of here?”

“Right. Yes. You know how?”

“It’s a simple portal.”

He reached out a hand and attempted to create said portal—

—and nothing happened.

Magnus snapped his fingers, again and again.

Nothing.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m out of magic.” Despair rose in Magnus’s throat as he tried, again and again, to reach his magic—only to find nothing. “All those demons—”

“Take mine.”

Magnus looked at him in disbelief. Alec reached out a hand.

“We’ve done it before, haven’t we?”

That was before you decided you didn’t want me, Magnus thought, but didn’t say.

Instead he took Alec’s hand, closing his eyes at the rush of power Alec pushed into him.

In less than a moment a portal was rushing over them and they were gone.

*

It spat them out in a heap on Magnus’s living room floor, a torrent of water cascading over them and into the expensive carpet before Magnus managed to shut the portal. Once he did, he flopped onto his back, staring up at the ceiling, breathing hard.

He could just make out the slowly-moving form of Alec beside him. “You still alive?”

Alec groaned, shifting onto his back next to Magnus. “I wish I wasn’t. Are your portals always so hectic?”

“Your portal, darling. That was your magic. My portals are elegant and smooth, like a trip down the coast on a luxury yacht.”

Alec groaned again. “Please don’t mention boats. Or water.”

Magnus giggled, and then he was full-on laughing—at Alec, at the situation, at himself. Oh, it was just like him to get in a near-death experience with the person he was trying to get over.

Alec grumbled and slowly turned on his side to face Magnus. “What’s so funny?”

Magnus turned on his side as well, and suddenly found himself much closer to Alec than he’d expected. They were almost nose-to-nose, their knees just about bumping. Magnus was very tempted to brush his wet hair out of his eyes, but restrained himself.

“Oh, just—” Magnus waved a hand— “Almost drowned on another world helping a man who hates me. And then saved by that man. It’s funny, the tragedy of my life, is all.”

Alec’s eyes went wide. “I don’t hate you!”

“Fine, fine,” Magnus conceded, “dislike, don’t care for, however you want to phrase it—”

Alec grabbed his wrist to still his movement. “Magnus, none of that is true.”

Magnus chuckled nervously and tried to pull his arm away, but Alec’s grip was firm. “It’s alright, Alec, I know there’s nothing between us anymore, you don’t have to pretend otherwise for my sake. It’s fine if you saved me because I’m useful to you. I’m used to it. It’s fine.”

“That’s not why.”

Magnus wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what came next in this conversation, but still he said, very quietly, “Then tell me why.”

For once, Alec didn’t look away as if he didn’t want Magnus to be able to read him. He just met Magnus’s gaze and said, like the very words meant his death, “Because I’m in love with you.”

If not for the sudden painful fluttering of his chest, Magnus might have burst out laughing. “What?”

Alec just held his gaze evenly, looking sort of resigned.

“Alec,” Magnus said, when he finally gained control of his heart, “you’re the one who ended it before it even had a chance to begin.”

“I know.” Alec rubbed at his eyes, seeming very tired. “I didn’t want to, but… everything was getting complicated. With my family, with the Clave—there were several points where I wasn’t sure I was even going to get through it with my name or my reputation or even my runes intact. I just—didn’t want you to get swept up in it.”

“You think I wasn’t aware of all that? I can make my own decisions!”

“I know, I just— I’m sorry. I was going to try to fix it, but by that point it seemed like you just hated me.”

“I never hated you,” Magnus said quietly. “I was angry with you, yes, for treating me like we were strangers. Disappointed, maybe. I never hated you.”

Alec sighed. “I was just trying to protect you.” He looked around at their positions on the floor, the puddle of water still surrounding them. “But instead I almost got you killed.”

He looked so forlorn about it that Magnus had to lay a hand on his cheek. “Come now. I’m more than capable of that on my own.” He tapped Alec’s forehead. “As are you, Mister ‘Jump into an Unknown Portal Headfirst.’”

“Fine, fine. Make fun of me as much as you want if it’ll make you feel better.” Magnus was gratified to see that he was smiling as he said it.

That smile burst open a bloom of hope in Magnus’s chest, hope that all the feelings he’d been squashing down weren’t actually misdirected or self-destructive. Hope that what they had once had might still be there, just needing some kindling.

“What do you say,” he began, “we get up off the floor, put on some dry clothes, and go for ‘we-almost-died-but-hooray-we-didn’t-die’ drinks?”

Alec’s smile widened until it lit up his whole face. “Really? You want that?”

“I do. Because, I hate to say it, but—” Magnus laid a hand over Alec’s heart, smiling when Alec wrapped his own over it—“I’ve been a little hopelessly in love with you, my dear.”

[ckret2]

meta about Vox & abuse with a side of Angel

Posting about Vox today reminded me of the thoughts I had a few days ago when the Insta accounts first posted those pics of Val smashing Vox’s face for getting his drink order wrong. So here’s a post mainly about Vox but a little about Angel.

So we've got confirmation that Val has shattered Vox's screen multiple times at this point. But there's been no evidence of violence from Vox toward Val, has there? I think it's all been one-sided. Think mention was made that Vox broke Val’s TV at one point, but as far as I can recall that was a one off—whereas Val has threatened to beat Vox’s face in more than once and done so more than once.

Cut for length but also for mentions of abuse—mainly just about how that abuse could affect the narrative/character arcs rather than discussing it in detail.

We might find out later that Vox, Val, and Vel’s dynamic is intended to be read as three goofy roughhousing villains who beat on each other as slapstick comedy and don’t really suffer any long-term physical/mental consequences—Vox & Val’s shark attack on Vel sure suggests that possibility—but the fact that Val’s violence toward Vox appears to be much more frequent and significant, plus the fact that Val is already being characterized as a very scary very real abuser, definitely leaves open the possibility that we’re supposed to take the actions between VV&V more seriously, too.

And it’s definitely easy to take it seriously. Like, looking at this post:

Look past the “haha TV face man got his TV broke, like a TV” visual gag, and this is a some guy taking a selfie of the black eye/broken nose his boyfriend gave him.

But it would be easy to see even these posts as "cartoony jokey violence" unless you stop and remember oh yeah this cartoon plays closer to real world rules rather than bugs bunny rules. There IS still a chance they could play it off as looney toons violence where we're supposed to go "lol look how awful VV&V are toward each other”—but I'm hoping that they do play it as an actual abusive relationship.

Maybe have them treat it like cartoony funny violence. Maybe have them telling themselves that this is all funny, it’s all games, if you’re tough enough then a little thing like a broken screen doesn’t REALLY hurt—and you ARE tough, right, aren’t you Vox?? Aren’t you some big bad overlord?? You’re not some fuckin loser who gets butthurt over a broken screen, are you?? It’d be really easy for the three of them to tell themselves/each other that how they treat each other—especially how Val treats Vox—is fine... and then for the show to peel off the surface layer of their clowning around and point out the damage that’s really being done.

As far as what this means for Vox’s character, I’m interested in the possibility. Vox is currently slated to be an endgame villain for the series. I'm liking the implication that Vox can be this big powerful nigh-unstoppable villain... but is also still just as vulnerable as anyone else to being suckered by an abuser. That's an unexpected but intriguing avenue for character depth.

And if they're willing to give Angel an in depth character arc over being abuse at Val’s hands, then it would feel really weird if they don’t give Vox the same treatment. Not necessarily an arc that ends in character growth, not necessarily one that that concludes with him getting free and/or getting on the road to redemption—particularly if he’s gonna be an endgame villain—but at least one that takes it seriously and explores how that abuse affects his character. It could even make him a good foil for Angel, showing how the two of them handle it/are affected by it differently. (And if canon doesn’t give us that arc, I’ve got two hands and a keyboard and an AO3 account, and that is a threat.)

Saw a theory that this is recent treatment, that Val’s moved on to a fresh target now that Angel is out of reach—but I don’t think he is out of reach. Val is still demanding money from Angel at the start of the pilot episode; and it’s hard to tell from the “Addict” video what’s present day and what’s flashback, but between the insta posts around its release and the video itself, it seems like the dance is definitely present day and the abuse/assault is probably present day. So Angel isn’t out of reach, so Val didn’t “move on” to another target. Which probably means this is just how he always treats Vox.

tbh I’m, like, immediately ten times more invested in Vox/Val than I was before these posts solely out of a desire to get Vox out of that relationship lmao. And/or the desire for Vox to pull his big square head out of his ass, look at Angel, and go "oh wait I've been looking down on him but I should probably be, like... empathizing with him."

I mean you've gotta figure. They move in close enough circles that they've GOT to have seen the results of Val's treatment on each other.

But they apparently haven't ended up allies because—what reason? Maybe Vox looking at Angel and going "Well it doesn't matter what happens to HIM, he's just Val's pet stripper. Our relationship is different, Val and me are equals. We just roughhouse. That's all it is." Maybe Angel looking at Vox and going "Well he's on the same power level as Val, he could obviously just leave if it was bothering him. But he doesn't act like he's bothered, so he must not be," coupled with maybe not even consciously recognizing shattered screens as, y'know, an injury.

Or maybe they’re jealous of each other because they don’t see the full extent of how Val treats them. “What’s Angel complaining about, at least Val doesn’t beat his face in.” “What’s Vox complaining about, it’s not like he’s gotta dance for Val to pay rent.” Either because Val keeps them from getting to know each other too well, or because they’re both currently too emotionally immature to work out how to empathize with each other.

Or maybe Angel does recognize Vox’s situation but doesn't feel like he's got room to reach out when it's VOX, who oozes power out of every port and who gives off the impression that he would be violently offended rather than grateful if someone suggested he's any sort of victim.

Maybe part of Angel’s redemption arc is going to involve recognizing how bad Vox has got it, deciding that even a douchebag like Vox deserves the same chance at salvation that a douchebag like Angel got, and trying to invite him into the hotel to get away from Val.

And maybe part of Vox’s trajectory toward becoming the final villain will be rejecting Angel’s compassion, because he’s clinging so hard to this idea that he’s only “safe” as long as he’s the most goddamn powerful sinner in hell that he can’t bring himself to let go of the lie he tells himself about his own supposed invincibility, even when somebody’s reaching out and offering to help him.

(... All that said, I’m still waiting on standby with my keyboard and my AO3 account, fully prepared to write that “Vox goes to the hotel and now the healing can begin” fic.)

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Out Of Time ~ Valentine’s Day

MASTERLIST

The following is a one shot for my series, Out Of Time.

Word Count: 2,250ish

Summary: Y/N spends valentine’s with her two lovers. (This is a little flashforward in the current timeline of Out Of Time.)

Monday, February 12th, 2018

“So I was thinking that on Wednesday, you and I can dress up and I can get Happy and Peter to deck the place again and I can spoil you rotten,” Tony said as Y/N and him were cuddled up on the couch, watching Shark Tank and eating pizza.

“On Wednesday?” Y/N repeated. “What’s so special about Wednesday?”

“Uh, honey,” Tony chuckled, “it’s Valentine’s Day.”

“What?!”

Tony laughed. “This is actually great. Usually I’m the forgetful one.”

“This is actually terrible,” Y/N grumbled, slipping her hands down her face.

“Terrible? Why?”

“Because I have two over the top boyfriends.”

“Oh… right… You don’t have to do anything with Barnes. He probably doesn’t know what day it is anyway. You know, cause the old age and brain damage.”

“Tony!” Y/N smacked his arm. “Don’t be mean.”

“Hey! Woah!” He held his hands up. “I’m just saying the truth.”

“I don’t want to think about this right now,” Y/N shook her head. She stood up, heading for the kitchen. “Did you have to bring it up?”

“Sorry that I just felt the need to tell you what I was planning for Valentine’s day.” Tony followed her. “Especially since I have to share my girlfriend.”

“Tony…”

“No, I have the right to be a little annoyed. This has been going on for 10 months now and you have yet to make a choice. I think you’re enjoying this.”

“You think I’m enjoying this?” Y/N spun around to face him. “This is killing me because I love you both, so much. And it will kill be to hurt either of you.”

“So? Just rip the band aide off.”

“Rip the band aide off? Are you serious?”

“I’m really starting to get there, honey. You know that I’m not the most patient or the sharing type, but I’ve been very open here. I can only push myself so far though.”

“You know what? I’m leaving. Have fun on Valentine’s Day, Tony.” She opened a portal to the side of her.

“Stop, Y/N. Stop. Don’t storm out of here.”

Y/N simply shook her head and went through the portal. Quickly closing it. She had took herself to her Wakanda bedroom, where, by surprise, Bucky was in there waiting for her. He was sitting on her bed, nervously running a rose through his hand.

“Hi, doll,” he greeted with a small smile. He stood up, crossing the room and giving her a kiss. “This is for you.” He handed her the rose, which she took. 

“Thank you, Buck,” she replied, he could tell something was off.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She was looking down at the rose twirling in her fingers.

“Don’t lie to me.” He lifted up her chin. “What did Tony do?”

“Nothing, Bucky. He was fine. He just… did you make any plans for Valentine’s day?”

“Did I make any? Not yet. Have I been waiting here for hours to bring my plans up to you? Sadly.”

“Ugh!” She turned around heading to set the rose on the dresser. “So it’s just me who’s the idiot?”

“An idiot?”

“I completely forgot about Valentine’s Day, Buck. And I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“You’ll just split the day between Tony and I. Like you always do.”

“Yeah, but is that fair? To me or to either of you?”

“Are you trying to say that you’re ready to make a decision?”

“No… I’m… I’m not ready. I just feel bad, about it all.”

“Well, doll, I can’t say that this whole thing has been easy. But I did promise you that I’d wait until you were ready and fight for you every step of the way. And I’ll still do that now, especially on Valentine’s Day.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m completely sure.” He pulled her in for a soft kiss. “Just tell me the time and I’ll set it up.”

“Lunch.”

“You got it.” He gave her another sweet kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

~~~

Tony had locked himself away in his lab, working on his Valentine’s Day gift. Even if Y/N wasn’t going to make an appearance on the day of love. It was late in to the night when he heard footsteps coming up behind him. And he knew exactly whose they were.

“I hope you’re here to apologize,” he said, quickly covering up his work space.

“I am,” Y/N said softly. “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t just about me.” She came up behind him, wrapping her arms around him and resting her chin on him. “How about dinner on Wednesday?”

“Barnes isn’t going to be mad?”

“We’re doing lunch.”

Tony nodded, thinking a moment. “As long as I get to pick what you wear.”

“I guess I can handle that.” She pressed a kiss to his neck. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

~~~

Wednesday, February 14th, 2018

Y/N had ignored both men after talking to them about Valentine’s Day. She was just feeling a bit overwhelmed about it all. She knew that she needed to make a decision soon, but she couldn’t today. Currently looking up at the ceiling, Y/N laid in her bed and sighed. A quiet knock sounded at the door before it was opened. Y/N sat up to see Bucky walk in, pushing a cart with food on it.

“Good morning, doll,” he greeted with a large smile. He paused to shut the door before pushing the cart to her bed. “Happy Valentine’s Day.” He leaned down and gave Y/N a kiss.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” she repeated. She looked at the cart. “What’s all this?”

“I thought that I could bring you breakfast. Especially since I haven’t seen you in too long.”

“It hasn’t been that long.”

“It has for me.” He sat down on the bed. “Have you…” He swallowed. “Have you been with Stark the whole time?”

“No. I’ve been here.”

“So you’ve been ignoring me?”

“I’ve been ignoring everyone.”

Bucky nodded. “Any particular reason why?”

Y/N picked up a piece of food and plopped it in her mouth. “Just needed some time to myself. But I’m good.” She leaned towards him, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Ready to spend some time with you.”

“Good.”

Bucky and Y/N ate breakfast before he left, allowing her to get ready for the day. He told her to meet him at his place when she was ready. Y/N didn’t take too long to get ready before appearing near Bucky’s place. She smiled as she saw their tree decorated with lights and hearts. There was a blanket laid out underneath the tree with a basket on top of it. But what came to the biggest surprise to Y/N was to two white rhinos off to the side. She walked up to them, slowly reaching out her hand to pet one.

“I see you found the surprise,” Bucky came up behind her with a slight chuckle.

“These are the surprise?” She questioned, looking over at him while still keeping her hand on the rhino.

“Yes. I thought it would be fun to do something completely Wakandan. They don’t ride horses, they ride rhinos.”

“We’re doing to ride these?”

“If you don’t want to, we don’t—“

“No! I want to! Trust me.” She smiled at him.

“Okay, then.” He smiled back. “You ready to ride?”

“I guess.” 

She turned back to the rhino, searching for how to get on it. Finding a foot hole, she put her foot in it before heaving herself up. Before she could throw her other leg over, Y/N started wobbling. 

“Here,” Bucky came over putting his hands on her waist, “I got you.”

Y/N looked down, now noticing the new addition to Bucky’s look. “You’re arm,” she whispered, mesmerized by the sleek look of the black and gold together. 

“I thought you deserved two arms today.” 

“It’s… it’s real nice, Buck.” Real attractive too, she thought.

She focused back on what she was doing and flipped her other leg over the side of the rhino. Bucky then got onto his own rhino and began to lead the way. Y/N led her rhino to walk beside Bucky’s.

“This is so cool,” Y/N grinned.

Bucky did so in return. “I’m glad you think so.”

They chatted and rode until they were hungry and headed back to Bucky’s hut. Bucky got off his rhino first before rushing to help Y/N off. Y/N wouldn’t admit it aloud, but she enjoyed feeling his two hands on her waist. She turned in his hold to face him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Thank you, Bucky,” she said softly. “That was wonderful.”

“Only the best for you,” he replied, kissing her.

With his new metal hand, he led her under the tree. Bucky pulled Y/N down into his lap, brushing her cheek with his flesh fingers. He kissed her, begging entrance to her mouth with his tongue. Which she allowed. Her hands found his hair, holding his head close to hers. Bucky slowly set Y/N on the ground, with him hovering above her.

“Bucky…” she panted, breaking away from him. “We can’t… I can’t.”

He sighed, resting his head against her shoulder. “I know… I’m sorry.” He pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “I just don’t know how much longer I can wait.”

“I realize I’m asking a lot of you. But please be patient.”

Bucky moved off of her, allowing her to sit up. “I’m still a man, doll. I have basic needs I want met.”

“I know. And I’m very sorry for doing this to you.”

“It’s just… I can’t help it but be jealous of Stark. He’s got to be with you in ways I never have.”

“Don’t be jealous. He’s not getting any right now either… I need my mind clear to make my choice.” She grabbed his hand and kissed it. “You’re too good to me… thank you… I love you, James.”

“I love you too.”

~~~

Y/N arrived at Tony’s apartment around dinner time in New York. She had a wonderful time and knew Bucky did too, even if he was starting to grew impatient.

“Y/N,” FRIDAY called. “The Boss has asked me to lead you to the guest room to change before the evening starts.”

“Okay, FRIDAY,” she replied, “lead the way.”

Y/N followed FRIDAY’s directions to the guest room, where a floor length, hot-rod red dress was laying out on the bed. She walked closer, noticing a small note on it.

You told me I got to decide what you wear tonight. This was the most modest of them all, trust me. If you want to go with my top choice, look in middle dresser drawer. Though, I figure you won’t and I can save it for another day. Get dressed and meet me in the kitchen. - T.S.

Y/N had a soft smile on her lips as she read the note. She didn’t bother to open the dresser drawer and slipped into the dress. She quickly checked herself in the mirror before heading to the kitchen. There was soft classical music playing on the speakers and the room was simply lit by candles. Tony was sitting at the small table, but, upon seeing Y/N enter, stood up to greet her.

“Damn,” he smirked. “I did good.” He walked over to her. “Though I had hoped that you would have come down in the other option. This one is still good.” He pulled her in and kissed her. “I’ve missed you all day. I hope your time with Barnes wasn’t too terrible.”

“I don’t want to talk about him,” Y/N responded. “Can tonight just be about the two of us?”

“Of course.” 

He gave her another kiss as he slowly started moving them to the music. He hands were on the small of her back as her wrapped around his neck, hands barely resting on his hairline. Their foreheads met and they closed their eyes, enjoying the proximity.

Y/N let her thoughts compare her to lovers. They were both uniquely different, yet the same and both absolutely wonderful and more than she would ever deserve. How was she suppose to make this choice? What had she gotten herself into?

“What are you thinking about?” Tony whispered.

“Nothing,” she responded.

“Liar. I can practically hear your thoughts.” He kissed her forehead. “What’s going on in there?”

“I just… I’m thinking about a lot. How wonderful you are to me. How wonderful this is… yet I’ll break my heart and someone else’s soon.”

“Not tonight though, right?” Tony looked in her eyes. His brown eyes boring into her soul, more vulnerable than she had ever seen them. “You’re not breaking my heart tonight, right?”

“Tony… No. Not tonight.”

“Good.” He pulled her closer. “Let me just hold you close tonight. Sway you tonight.”

“I love you, Anthony.”

He tensed a little at the use of his full name. “I love you too.”

They swayed to the music, holding each other close, for a little longer before moving to the table to eat. Tony could tell she was still thinking about it all, even though she tried to act like she wasn’t. He pushed it all aside though, focusing on just him and her and the hope that there would be a future there.

[the-hidden-writer]

And Into The Fire

Chapter 13: A Small Confrontation

Summary: Months after the Mitchells saved the world, Linda gets a phone call asking if she’s seen two defective Pal MAX bots. Powerful people are after Eric and Deborabot 5000, and it’s up to the Mitchells to protect them.

Taglist: @squidsushi , @astro-aye , @shitmyex, @sharks-are-friendly, @snakeguy99

Check reblogs for AO3 link!

A Small Confrontation

Aaron held onto his Mom’s hand for dear life as she and Dad used tools from the kit in the car to smash the glass of the entrance to Pal Labs; a hammer in Dad’s hand and a wrench in Mom’s.

Aaron himself just brought his Number 3 Robertson Head Non-Slip Screwdriver. He kept it in his pocket though, so he could hold Monchi’s lead with his other hand.

Monchi didn’t seem bothered with them committing crimes.

As soon as the glass pane had shattered (which had taken a surprising amount of effort from all of them to achieve), they raced through the hole and into the building that Aaron had only seen on TV.

Mom had said that they’d have the element of surprise since nobody knew they were coming- especially so early in the morning. Judging by the number of people pointing guns at them, Mom may have been wrong.

He gripped her hand tighter.

“Where are they?!” Mom cried, making Dad wince.

“Calm down, dear.” He shushed through an obviously-fake smile that failed to hide his panic. “We can’t win a fight here, let’s try and settle this peacefully.”

Mom glared at him but didn’t argue.

“Ah! Mitchells!”

The three of them looked up to see a new figure emerge on the big glass balcony, the sound of her boots clicking against the floor loudly. Some of the gun-people moved aside to allow the tall blonde woman to stand at the very edge to face them.

“Enjoying your road trip?”

Aaron was now sure that they had no element of surprise whatsoever. Mom looked heartbroken and a bit terrified.

“Who are you?” She demanded anyway. “What do you want with the poor robots?”

The woman smirked and avoided the questions entirely. “Which robots would those be, Mrs Mitchell? The robots that tried to take over the world or the robots that legally belong to Pal Labs?”

“Dang it.” Mom hissed under her breath. Sometimes Aaron wondered if she would use curse words more if she wasn’t a teacher. She probably would.

“You don’t look like Mark Bowman.” Dad commented warily. “And since when did Pal Labs authorise firearms for their workers? Doesn’t seem that legal to me.”

The lady frowned then, and Aaron instinctively shrunk in on himself. There was something about her (the way she was reacting to their arrival and the way that all the people holding guns seemed to respect her) that made her seem very menacing.

She felt a lot like a villain from one of Katie’s movies, except without Dog Cop to come and save them and guarantee a happy ending.

“I’m Agent Jennifer Ward with the CIA.” She said, pulling out a badge from her blazer pocket and flashing it in their direction. “And my team and I are trying to prevent another robot apocalypse.”

She put the badge back. “There, I’ve answered your questions, now answer mine: What do you want with the robots?”

Aaron cringed as all three of them faltered, knowing the real reason would be unacceptable. Even Monchi let out a small whine.

But it was still the truth.

“They’re our family!” He blurted out. Mom and Dad both turned to look at him, shocked. Aaron felt a little guilty- he probably shouldn’t have said that.

“Family?” The stern-looking agent scoffed in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”

For a moment, Aaron thought that his Mom was glaring at him for revealing their secret. But she slowly turned her head so that she was facing the agent, giving her the Mom-glare instead.

“He’s right.” She said confidently, making Aaron’s heart swell with love for his mother. “They helped us stop Pal and they’re ours now. So give them back.”

He noticed Dad shuffle backwards. Mom was losing her patience very quickly.

The agent seemed to think for a minute. “Well… I’m feeling generous so I suppose you can have one back, since it’s only causing us trouble. You want the whole one, correct?”

The “whole” one? What did that mean?

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dad voiced his confusion. He and Dad were often on the same page with this sort of thing.

The agent opened her mouth to reply, but before she could there was a loud crashing noise coming from down the hall. Her brows furrowed as she leaned on the balcony to try and look down.

The Mitchells, standing near the entrance, could see much more clearly.

And the sight in front of them was the last thing any of them had expected.

Aaron was the first to react. “Katie!”

Katie raced toward them, looking completely dishevelled and with some sort of desperation shining bright in her eyes. A man was following at a distance behind her- but Aaron couldn't quite see who it was.

“KATIE?!” Mom and Dad shouted at the same time, their gazes locking onto their daughter.

What was Katie doing here?!

Monchi, overjoyed to see her again, started dragging Aaron toward her.

“Don’t trust them!” She cried. She then bent down to pet the over-excited Monchi as they reached her, and as Aaron was closer he could see the sweat on her forehead. She must be really panicked. “They’ve got the bots- they’ve taken Eric apart!”

“They. What.”

Uh oh. Whenever Mom used that tone of voice it usually meant…

Aaron turned to see his Mom’s jaw clenched. Her eyes were wide and unfocused as she glared somewhere in their general direction.

The bad guys had no chance.

The agent must have sensed that too, as she snapped out of her shock and calmly said: “Get them.”

Suddenly the building erupted with the sound dozens of pairs of footsteps that thundered toward them, and Aaron was terrified.

Robots coming after you was one thing, but that didn’t really feel real. Or just not as real as the very real people coming at him with very real guns.

He found himself frozen to the spot as he watched his parents race toward him and Katie.

“We need to get out of here.” Katie whispered desperately, as the attackers grew ever nearer.

“Mitchells! This way!” A voice called back from the corridor that Katie had come from. Aaron was too frightened to recognise it. He felt too scared to do anything and he could barely register what was going on.

Katie took Monchi’s lead from his hand and Dad scooped him up into his arms. Mom held his hand as they ran in the direction the voice had come from.

He clung onto his Dad like a lifeline. Even though he hated being picked up (he was way too old for that) it was just what he needed, and they knew it. He loved his family.

Mom’s hand only slipped from his when they turned a corner as they were running. Aaron twisted his head to properly see where they were going (rather than the people who they were slowly gaining on) and he caught a glimpse of the owner of the voice, Mark Bowman himself, rushing into one of the many white doors to their right.

“In here!” He cried, holding the door open for them.

It took a few more precious seconds for them to reach the door, which the five of them literally tumbled into. Dad tripped over Monchi’s lead, causing Aaron to fall onto the tile floor the second that the door slammed shut behind them.

He looked up with a wince, expecting to see his family...

Not four huge men standing right in front of him with red eyes and crazed smiles.

Aaron screamed.

“Woah, hey, it’s okay!” Mark Bowman said, appearing from behind the line of large men. “They’re not real.” He shoved a hand straight through one of them, and the way it emerged from its chest made Aaron’s stomach churn. They looked so realistic. “See? Just holograms. We’re safe in here.”

“How do you know?” Asked Katie.

“This is the only lab without cameras, so those doors are really tough to get into once locked to make up for the lack of security,” Bowman explained, “and it also connects directly to Lab 3 upstairs. Now my workers know this, but these agents don’t. We can escape through there.”

“Katie!” Dad huffed, still getting his breath back. “What are you doing here?! Are you okay?”

Katie let out a small, tired laugh. That must mean she was sort of okay, right?

“It’s a funny story, actually…”

Comments make my day! :)

[juliandev0rak]

Into The Wild  

Chapter 3: Goldenrod

✧ Into The Wild Series ✧ playlist ✧

Words: 3055

“Willa! She took my beads!” 

“Willa, Lucio told us there are sharks in the lake, is that true?” 

“Willa I got a paper cut!” 

Willa takes a seat at the front of the arts and crafts cabin and takes a moment to breathe and re-center. She’s been at Camp Vesuvia for two weeks now, and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t exhausted from being constantly on. Someone always needs something from her, and there's only so much coffee one person can drink to stay energetic and peppy through it all. 

She gives herself thirty more seconds to wallow a bit, and then she’ll get back to the campers. Willa breathes in slowly as she watches the little hand on her watch tick out the seconds, and exhales. Thirty seconds are up.

“Ok campers, gather up!” Willa calls, her enthusiasm only slightly fabricated, her smile only slightly tired. 

Thirty minutes later, the campers are happily working on their art projects and Willa has another chance for a break. She likes to give them free choice most of the time, they can do anything they want with the supplies in the cabin. Some of the campers are painting, others making bracelets, and one kid in the corner seems to be making a spaceship out of modeling clay. It's chaos, but Willa likes to think it's the organized kind, or at least the fun kind. 

She steps outside to check on a group of campers making flower chains, humming as she walks. The hum gets stuck in her throat as Willa stops, looking around the empty clearing in confusion, and then panic. The kids she’d seen only five minutes before have vanished, and though it's not unusual for campers to wander off to some other activity, they’re supposed to tell her first.

Willa is about to call Nadia for help when she hears a camper’s voice say, “Is that a wolf!?” 

The word “wolf” puts her on alert and Willa hurriedly follows the sound of the camper around the side of the arts and crafts cabin. She sighs in relief at the sight of the kids she’d been looking for. And sure enough, they’re busy petting a large black wolf. 

Her first instinct is to pull the campers away, but the wolf looks up at her with kind eyes and Willa realizes that she knows this wolf. “Inanna! What are you doing here?” She scratches her behind the ears and Inanna sniffs at her hand happily. “Is Muriel around?” 

Inanna stops licking her and turns towards the building next door, a storage shed with a door ajar, and Willa realizes that Inanna is giving her directions. She turns towards the campers first to give them a quick lecture on not approaching unfamiliar animals, especially wolves, and sends them back inside. Muriel steps out of the storage shed and nearly hits his head on the top of the door frame in his surprise as he sees Willa.

“Muriel! Over here!” she calls, waving him over. For a moment it looks like he’s going to walk away, but he finally turns towards her. He stops several feet away and Inanna trots over to his side.

“Can I help you with something?” Muriel asks.

“I was just wondering what you’re doing,” Willa smiles, leaning down to pick up a flower one of the campers had dropped on the path. It’s a dandelion, some people would call it a weed, but Willa has always liked those sorts of flowers best. 

“I’m working.”

“What are you working on?”

Muriel looks at her warily. “You ask a lot of questions.” 

“Yes, I’ve been told that before,” she laughs, her fingers busy twirling the stem of the flower.

“I help Nadia sometimes, around the camp. There was a light out in the shed,” Muriel explains, pointing back towards the small cabin he’d just exited.

“Oh, we’ve got a lightbulb out in the arts and crafts cabin too! I uh, couldn’t reach it and i couldn’t find a ladder or I would’ve changed it myself,” Willa turns towards the still open cabin door. She points to the back corner where a lightbulb flickers faintly. “If you’ve got a minute, could you replace it?” 

Muriel regards her for a moment and then turns to walk away in the opposite direction. She watches him incredulously and walks back into the cabin with a huff, “How rude.”

A few minutes later, Willa is busy helping a camper with a tangled bracelet when Muriel enters the cabin. A few of the campers greet him as “Ranger Muriel” and Willa can’t help but smile at the way he greets the campers back. He knows a lot of their names and seems interested in the projects they’re working on.

“Where did you go?” Willa asks as he approaches her table.

“To get a lightbulb.” He holds it up to show her and crosses over to the left side of the room where the dead light is.

“Oh,” Willa says, feeling bad for assuming he was being rude. “Thank you.” 

It takes him only a minute to change out the lightbulb, but when he’s done he doesn’t leave. Instead, he walks over to where Willa is sitting, awkwardly hovering for a minute before she notices him and looks up.

“What are you working on?” he asks. It takes him a minute to get all of the words out, as if the question took a lot of effort to ask.

“I’m making a friendship bracelet!” She holds it up to show him. It’s a design of her own making, a repeating pattern of different kinds of leaves all made in green thread. If a certain green-eyed park ranger was the inspiration for the color palette, she’ll never tell. 

“It’s nice.” 

“Thank you!” Willa says proudly, setting the bracelet back down carefully. “Would you like to make one?” 

Muriel takes a step towards the door. “I should get back to the station.” 

“Of course. Feel free to stop by any time!” she smiles. He gives her a nod as he leaves, and Willa’s attention is soon pulled away by campers.

Later that evening, Willa finds herself huddled over the fire pit mourning the loss of yet another marshmallow. She can’t seem to toast a marshmallow without catching it on fire. Asra comes over to watch as she tries again, and this time goes marginally better, she’s able to blow the fire out before her marshmallow burns to a crisp. 

“I wouldn’t eat that,” Asra says, eyeing the charcoal colored marshmallow. 

Willa adds a piece of chocolate and smushes it between two graham crackers without a care. She eats the s’more in one giant bite, wiping chocolate off of her chin as she chews. “Well, it’s a good thing that was my marshmallow then.” 

“You’re bad at s’mores,” Asra frowns.

“There’s no wrong way to s’more, Asra, you’re a marshmallow snob!” Willa points the end of her metal marshmallow skewer at him and he backs up, holding his hands up defensively.

“I am not, I just prefer my s’mores to be edible.” 

“Perhaps my tastebuds are more developed than yours,” Willa teases, “I can appreciate the delicate flavor of blackened marshmallow.” 

“Sure, you just keep telling yourself that,” Asra laughs. He walks off to join the rest of the camp staff on the other side of the amphitheater, leaving Willa to her marshmallow pyromania. 

“You’re too impatient, you have to cook it low and slow,” the now-familiar gruff voice comes from behind Willa, startling her.

She turns towards Muriel, her face pulling into a grin at the sight of him, “You came!” 

Muriel’s lips pull up into the barest hint of a smile as he looks back at her, but his eyes quickly shift away. “You’re a fire hazard, I had to make sure you weren’t going to set the forest on fire.” 

“It’s not my fault all the marshmallows spontaneously combust!” 

“You’re too impatient,” Muriel repeats.

“I am not impatient!” Willa frowns and shoves another marshmallow onto her skewer, nearly stabbing her hand on the pointy end. 

“Careful,” Muriel eyes her cautiously, keeping a safe distance away from the sharp end of her stick.

“Fine, if you’re so good at roasting marshmallows show me how to do it.” Willa holds the skewer out to him and he grabs it, their hands briefly touching as she passes it over. They both recoil as if they’ve been burned and Muriel clears his throat as he turns away from her and towards the fire. 

“Hold it over a smaller piece of wood, away from the fire.” Muriel demonstrates, holding the marshmallow low over one of the smoldering logs instead of putting it directly into the fire as Willa does. She watches him intently, but she’s looking at his face rather than the marshmallow lesson. In the firelight, she traces the sharp line of his jaw with her eyes, marking the shape of his nose, his eyebrows, his lips. 

“See?” Muriel hands her the skewer, breaking her out of her daze. Sure enough, the marshmallow is perfectly golden brown, not a burn mark in sight.

“You’re a wizard, this has to be witchcraft,” Willa marvels. But even magical marshmallows need to be eaten. She prepares a s’more and hands it to Muriel, who seems quite surprised to be handed the sweet treat.

“It’s not magic, it’s patience.” Muriel takes a bite of the s’more and Willa watches as his eyes close halfway and his lips pull into another rare smile at the taste. He must like sweets, Willa makes a note to remember that. Maybe she’ll bake him something. She notices a bit of chocolate on his cheek, next to his lips, and reaches up to brush it off without a thought. 

“You had chocolate on your face,” she explains as Muriel pulls back in surprise. “Sorry.”

“It’s ok.” Muriel looks away, but the fire is just bright enough to illuminate his blushing face.

“Alright, I’m gonna try it,” Willa changes the subject, sparing them both the awkwardness. She prepares another marshmallow, gently rotating it over the log as she’d seen Muriel do. 

Her marshmallow is not quite as perfect as Muriel’s was, but it still tastes great. Whether it's the amount of sugar she’s had or her proximity to Muriel, she feels more awake than she has all week, and bolder too. “I made you something.” 

“You— what?” Muriel’s eyes widen as he looks at her.

“I made you a friendship bracelet.” Willa reaches into her jacket pocket and pulls the bracelet out. She doesn’t know when she decided to give it to him, but it feels like he should have it. 

“A friendship bracelet?”

“Yes! We’re friends, aren’t we?” Willa holds it out to him and he takes it, holding it carefully as if it’s breakable.

“I guess.” 

Willa laughs, shaking her head at his comment. “You saved me from a bear, that makes us friends.” 

Muriel holds the bracelet in the palm of his hand, his eyes still glued to the green woven threads. “You don’t have to give me this, are you sure?” 

“Of course I’m sure, I made it with you in mind,” Willa admits. “Here let me help you put it on, if you want.” 

Muriel holds his wrist out, and when Willa’s hand rests on his arm they both freeze, looking at each other briefly before their eyes move away. She tries to focus on the task at hand and carefully ties the bracelet onto his wrist. His skin is so warm against hers, and his hand is calloused. Willa resists the urge to run her fingers along the lines of his palm, but she still lets her hands linger longer than they should. 

“There. I think it suits you.” Willa takes a step back and sits down on the amphitheater bench, stretching her legs out in front of her. Muriel hesitates for a moment before taking a seat next to her, closer than she would’ve expected. They sit in companionable silence for a minute until two campers run up to ask Willa a question. 

“You’re good with them,” Muriel comments after the kids have scampered off.

“The campers are sweet, most of the time,” Willa smiles, thinking of some of the more mischievous kids she’s met over the last few weeks. “I think it must be hard to be away from your family for so long, eight weeks is a long time for a child.” 

“Mmm,” Muriel agrees. He busies himself with tracing the leaf pattern on his bracelet, his fingers working their way around the trail of leaves and back around again. 

Willa leans back, tilting her head up towards the sky and the stars which are just starting to appear. “I was shy as a kid, and I pretty much only had my family since we lived in the middle of nowhere. I think a camp like this would’ve been good for me. I did go camping with my family a few times, but that’s not the same. Did you ever go to camp as a kid?” 

“No.” 

“Do you have any siblings?” 

“I never knew my family,”  Muriel replies, looking vaguely uncomfortable at the admission.  

She turns to look at him, but he keeps his gaze fixed to the ground. “I’m sorry.” 

Muriel nods at her sympathetic comment and turns to look up at the sky. He shoves his hands into his jacket pocket and sighs, his voice a bit softer as he asks, “Do you have siblings?” 

“I’ve got two brothers, one older and one younger,” Willa replies, her thoughts turning to the family she left behind to move to the city. It's been years since she last saw her brothers, and being in a place like this makes her miss them more than usual.

“Do you miss your family?” Muriel seems surprised at his own question, as if he didn’t mean to say it aloud.

“I miss my brothers, but my parents... well, I think we get along better from a distance,” she sighs. “Things are complicated.”   

“I’m sorry.” 

“It’s ok.” For a moment Willa thinks about saying more. She wants to tell him everything, where she’s been, where she wants to go. She’s pretty sure that he’d listen. But Willa’s not ready for that yet, she doesn’t want to ruin the fragile friendship they have, so she changes the subject again.

“A few of us are going into town later since we have tomorrow off. There’s a little bar that does karaoke on Friday nights, Asra and Portia roped me into it. You could come with us if you want.” She has a feeling she already knows what his answer will be, but she doesn’t want to miss out on the slight chance of spending more time with him. 

“I don’t sing.” 

“Well, I must warn you, if you don’t go you’ll be missing out on Asra and I dueting every song in ABBA’s discography, complete with choreography,” she says. To her surprise Muriel laughs, the sound deep and gravely and somehow very comforting. Willa joins in with him, unable to stop the smile spreading across her face.

“I hope you have fun.” 

“If I come back tomorrow with my voice gone, blame Asra,” she laughs, looking across the fire at her friend who is busy talking to Nadia. 

A few moments pass in silence as Willa watches sparks fly from the fire, bright spots of gold standing out against the dark sky. Finally she looks up at Muriel, her breath catching a little in her throat as she tries to think of something to say. She wants to ask him to stay, to spend more time with her, but instead she says, “Thanks for showing me how to roast the perfect marshmallow.” 

She playfully nudges his shoulder with hers and Muriel looks down at her. He stiffens a bit but doesn’t pull away as she lets her shoulder rest against his arm. Then suddenly Asra is standing in front of her and Willa pulls away from Muriel, trying to hide the way her face flushes. 

“Willa, you ready to go?” Asra asks, giving her a teasing grin.

“Yep!” Her voice is a tad too loud and she winces at the squeakiness. She stands up and brushes dirt off of her jeans, turning back to look at Muriel again. “You sure you don’t want to come?”

“I’m sure.” 

“I’ll see you around, then.” Willa turns away, taking a step towards Asra.

“Willa, wait,” Muriel calls, and her heart leaps into her throat as she looks back at him.

“Yeah?” 

“Thank you for the bracelet. It’s nice,” he says, just loud enough for her to hear him.

“You’re welcome! We’re friends, that’s what friends do.” She gives him one last smile and turns to follow Asra and Portia out of the amphitheater.

“So, ‘friends’ huh?” Asra teases.

“Shut up or I’m not singing Mamma Mia with you,” Willa grumbles.

Asra puts his arm around her shoulders, giving her a quick squeeze. “You wouldn’t be able to resist.” 

“I hate that you’re right.”

“I’m usually right. And am I also right in guessing that you have a crush on Muriel?” 

“Oh please, that’s not a guess, that's just an obvious fact,” Portia adds. “Even the campers know about it.” 

“They do!?” Willa’s eyes go wide, wondering how the whole camp could possibly know when she’s only just figuring it out herself.  

“Yeah, earlier I heard a camper say that they ‘ship it’,” Asra laughs. 

Willa puts her head in her hands, shaking her head in dismay. “Oh no.” 

“So...you’re not denying it?” Asra asks. Willa’s car comes into view as they walk up the hill towards the front of camp and she tosses her keys at Asra.

“You can drive.” 

“Answer the question,” Portia prods as she gets into the back seat of the car. 

“I’m not denying it.” Both of her friends turn to look at her with mouths wide open in surprise and Willa flushes red, focusing her attention on buckling her seatbelt. 

“So you admit it then, you have a crush on him?” Portia grins. “Oh, I definitely have a crush on him,” Willa sighs.

“And what are you going to do about it?” Asra asks. 

“Honestly? I have no idea.”

✧

[writingmorsels]

Prompt: Surprise...?

One year after the happenings with The Company, you and Alex have finally found kind of an equilibrium. You two have bought a house together in some white-picked-fence neighborhood and you were even thinking about adopting a pet, to fill out the house. Well, you're gonna fill the house alright, but not with an animal.

You've been under the wind for a while now and it was frustrating.

You were temporarily the only breadwinner in the house, while Alex tried to have his old job back, and responding to a dispatch call while retching on your toilet wasn't the greatest feeling to start the day with.

You stopped a fight between two very angry, very 'I want to see your manager' looking women. You had to do a welfare check for an old man that almost shot you in the head with a sawed off shotgun. You had to respond to a domestic violence report only to discover it was for a couple really into roleplay.

You were tired.

Legs like jelly, you barely managed to reach for the bathroom before you could empty the contents of your stomach against the porcelain for the upteenth time that week.

Alex didn't know any of that and for a good reason: he already crucifixed himself for not being able to regain his job or any job really, because of his past. He didn't have to worry about your health, either. He was already a sweetheart with you as is.

It was just a stomach bug, you had worse.

Besides, Alex was busying himself at home while you were back on the field: he kept the house clean, did the laundry and, especially, he finally learned to cook something other than 'reheat bought stuff into the microwave'.

The first dishes were… okay. Edible.

But lately he managed to make something actually delicious… and it all ended up in the gutter, after you had another episode.

You came out of the precinct bathroom and flopped onto the nearest chair, at dispatch's station. "Ugh, someone got smashed yesterday or what?" You heard one of your coworkers joke and you groaned back to him, massaging your aching stomach. "Shuddup Mitchell... it's a stomach bug I can't shake off," you whined a little, making the man smirk. "Oh, so you don't wanna meet the recent reject from K-9? He was so eager…!" and a yapping sound made you perk up again. At your feet was a German Shepherd puppy, the fluffiest and cutest you ever seen.

Your eyes lit up as you bent down, meeting with the jumpy, shaky, ecstatic pup. “Oh my God you so cute! Awww yiss you aaare!” your voice came out as a high-pitched mess, almost mimicking the puppy’s yapps.

Your hands went to grab him underneath his front paws and hoisted him up, laughing as the little doggie started to lick your face.

Needless to say, not even ten minutes later you were sitting on the chair with the now sleepy pup melting into the crook of your elbow.

He had his front paws folded on themselves and he was nuzzling against your chest with small little snores coming from his nose. "He sure warmed up to you quickly!” Mitchell laughed, seeing the dog relaxed “Ready to bring him home already?"

Mitch knew of the cat-dog debacle in your home, so it came natural for you to ask him to keep him in the K-9 kennels for a little while. “I still have to speak with Alex about it… but I’m sure he would love him. Look at him…! Aww sho tired, good boy!” your attention went back to the puppy again, feeling him turn a little into your baby-hold.

You were having the time of your life, for once not even remembering your terrible mornings. “Aww, you’re practicing?” a voice joked and you moved your head to see one of your friends from dispatch, Lauren, approaching her desk.

You smiled, confused. “Practicing?” “Yeah! For the baby!” she replied to your question, pointing a finger towards the sleepy puppy in the crook of your elbow.

Baby?

“What are you talking about?” your voice came out with a slight hint of fear in its tone and Lauren giggled, putting her coffee down just so she could grab her headset. “Morning sickness, it never changes! In my second pregnancy it was even worse! If you want, I can give you a recipe for a miraculous smoothie."

You froze on the spot, her words hitting you so hard they almost knocked you over; all slowly came together with the nausea first thing in the morning, the strange tiredness, the moodiness that seemed to anticipate a shark week that never came.

Lauren noticed your uncomfortableness and furrowed her brows. “What’s wrong?” “N-no!...no I’m...it’s- I've changed pills recently, I’m not...” you lied through your teeth, eyes large as eggs and skin going a little pale.

You felt nauseous again, for different reasons.

You didn't even think about the possibility of…

Yeah your shark week still wasn't nowhere to be found, but you were only just a little late, it happened all the time. You were just...stressed.

That wasn’t the time nor the place to be pregnant. If you got stuck in maternity, how would you two pay for bills and food?

And Alex...oh your poor darling, after a year he still wasn't over Cameron's death and you wouldn't blame him.

You couldn't give him another heartache like that, giving him another child like some kind of substitute.

He would start spiraling down again like after everything ended with the Company, when he finally stopped worrying and let himself grieve.

You couldn’t do that to him, no no no...

With panic starting to fizzle in the back of your brain you watched Lauren, who looked amused. "Oh I get it! Yeah, changing those is always a pain…!" she shrugged before taking a sip of her coffee, booting up her computer.

Even Mitchell felt the awkwardness of the moment, because he broke it by leaning forward and grabbing the pup from your arm. “I’ll keep him for a little more, alright! No problem…!” the man smiled forcefully at you, silently asking if you were fine.

You were not fine.

The doubt had been planted.

On your way home you stopped by the nearest pharmacy and after grabbing an antiemetic from over the counter, you stopped in front of the rows and rows of pregnancy tests, uneasy and confused.

Old style? Electronic? Did the type change something? Did it matter?

"Fuck this…" you muttered as you bought a random one.

During the rest of the drive home you felt that little plastic thing weigh on your passenger seat like a block of cement, the pastel-colored box peaking through the paper bag, laughing at you with it’s ‘oh the joy of motherhood!’ packaging design.

Of course if things would’ve been different, you would’ve been thrilled. Having a family with the love of your life was something you always desired.

You would’ve been so happy to give Alex another baby, give Cameron a little brother or sister. Unite their fractured family once again.

Instead, you now had to suffer all that psychological turmoil, because of the Company.

Even after their defeat, they managed to give anguish to you all.

When you finally arrived home you parked in the driveway and waited for a second, for two. Waiting for someone to pop out from outside the frame and yell "That was a joke, there's the camera!".

Nothing moved but you, as you got off the car and trudged inside.

You passed the front door and approached the small table near the entrance, slowly removing part of your gear, one piece at the time.

The radio, the gun, the handcuffs with their keys, your hat and your boots. Everything found its place while your mind was still in utter chaos.

The only thing still glued to your fingers was the small brown paper bag from the pharmacy. "Welcome back honey!" You heard Alex’s voice come out of nowhere, right next to your ear, and you gave out a shrill yelp, grasping at your chest like trying to stop your heart from pounding out of it. "Alex!" You heaved as you turned, seeing him grinning down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "For fuck's sake you gave me a heart attack! Stop being sneaky when I come home!" You added, watching him now starting to laugh uncontrollably, a half apron around his hips and sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

He was cooking you dinner, as always… sweet bastard. "One of these days I'm gonna shoot you by accident–" "That's why I wait until you're unarmed…!" Alex chuckled back, leaning down to kiss you hello.

You replied in kind, sighing just a little against his lips when they met. "What's that?" you felt him reach for your hand, grabbing the paper bag from your grasp. You came back to reality and his hand on your hip suddenly felt uncomfortable.

You immediately reached back and yanked the bag from him before he could even look inside, taking your forbidden loot to your chest. "Ladies have their secrets…!" You tried to joke, to sell him the lie as best as you could.

You couldn't, but he didn't inquire for the moment. Alex only rose an eyebrow and watched you with his interrogation gaze, making you squirm a little. "Don’t look at me that way, mister! You don’t have to know all that happens to my little lady down there!" you tried to double down on being light and jokey, maybe letting a little frustration come through.

It was a half-truth, was it not? "Well I would love to be let in the loop… Maybe I could help you out with that," he spoke softly, his voice in a good spot between affectionate and erotic.

Out of instinct you took one step backwards, away from him. "No no! No one but my eyes have permission to gaze upon the horrors of some yeast infection...or shit like that" while holding the bag closer, you put a hand on his chest to push him away. “I’ll handle it...just…” your eyes wandered for an instant, thinking. “Just think of this a ‘biohazard zone’ for a couple of days, ok?” your free hand now waved in front of your crotch, making him chuckle. “As long as I can kiss you, I don’t have a problem with that,” he replied, stealing another quick peck from your lips. “Dinner’s almost ready hun, go get changed.” Alex then moved away, towards the kitchenette of your lovely home.

You didn’t wait more than a second before bolting up the stairs to the bathroom, clutching the box through the brown paper. For a moment you remained impressed by your bullshitting ability.

You bullshitted your way out of that situation like Michael Scofield strolled in and out of his jail cell at Fox River (Sucre told you several times about that at every chance he got, when you invited the whole gang over for the holidays).

Closing the door behind you, you aimed for the sink counter and dumped the content of the bag on top of, grabbing the furiatingly pale box and almost tearing it open. Your fingers trembled when you finally grabbed the white-and-pink stick.

It felt like a murder weapon, in your hands. “Ok...how do I…” you mumbled, scared.

You never even think about researching it, it was your very first encounter with something like that. Did you have to...stick it in?

You grabbed the flimsy instruction papers from deep inside the box and opened it, trying to find the right language to read it.

Oh…

You peed on one side and see the result on the other.

Simple, right?

Sure, technically it was as basic as it could come, but no one prepared you for the longest. Three minutes. Of your life.

You sat on the toilet after you did the do, holding the test flat as it was written and watching intently at the little white window.

You saw the first line starting to appear, coloring in a light blue, and your stomach started to churn again. “Please stop there, stop there, c’mon it's just a stomach bug, c’mon c’mon…!” you begged the little demonic stick, your knuckles turning pale for the sheer force you used to hold it.

Your blood thickened in your veins, when the second little line started to appear, the color deepening by the second.

"Oh no."

Oh no indeed. You had to call someone...and your mind immediately picked the best number to call.

"Thank you for coming... I didn't– I don't know what to do."

Sara Tancredi had sat herself in front of you, in the small diner you chose for your encounter.

Little one-year-old Michael had been sleeping in his stroller from the moment he and his mother came in. "No problem, I was around!" The woman smiled at you, her eyes already scanning you.

She saw the paleness of anxiety, cold sweat and dark circles. And the way you grasped at a small brown box like it contained a rabid beast. "What's the problem that Alex isn't allowed to know about?" Sara immediately asked and you shrank in your seat, looking guilty. "Why you thought–" "We're in a public place outside his usual zone, away from your place of work where he sometimes surprises you and you didn't explained over the phone while he was at home," she never dropped the smile, watching you with her seemingly sweet eyes...but you knew there was a tigress behind the gentle façade. "I…" "I've been a drug addict for a good portion of my life...and on the run the rest of it. I can recognize the signs, Y/n. Just tell me, I'm the last person who would judge you."

Slowly your fingers let go of the brown paper and pushed it towards her, across the table. Sara grabbed it, confused, and gasped a little when she saw the pregnancy test box. "You mean…?" She whispered, opening the box and immediately looking at the result window. "I had this stomach bug and–" "how many days are you late?" Sara immediately asked and you blinked, counting mentally. "Five-no, six days. It happens all the time, I didn't think I could be…" your voice trailed off as your favorite Doc smiled even brighter, letting the text down to hold your hands. "Is wonderful! Aw I'm so happy for–" "Sara, is not wonderful…!" You heaved, clawing at her hands. "I'm the only one with a job, a dangerous job. And-and Alex is still mourning his son, how can I...just waltz in and tell him 'here take a replacement'! I... don't know how he would react…"

Silence fell between you two for a long instant, where you felt ready to vomit.

You weren't ready for any answer, really. You didn't want Alex to know and you felt repulsion at the thought of aborting Alex's child, making him lose another.

Then, Sara sighed, patting your hands. "Listen... keeping this a secret is horrendous, for both you and Alex. You have to tell him." The woman tried to find your eyes, pulling at your hands to grab your attention. "Everything could happen, Y/n, especially in your line of work. What if you got wounded while hiding your pregnancy and the first doctor Alex will speak to will make his condolences because your child died? It could lead to a lot more drama…" Sara's usually bright eyes turned dark a little, her expression souring. "If… I never told Michael about his son, he would've died without knowing it... and I plan on telling my son who his father was. Please tell him, Y/n. He's a smart man, you will work this through as a couple…" The good doctor then smiled again, shaking the melancholy off her shoulders. "Think about it, if you decide to keep it, Mike will have a friend to play with!"

You had to wait at least three more weeks for your plan to work out.

The first week and a half were spent building up the courage to make the announcement.

In the remaining time, you studied on the internet how to do it in the best way.

Eating anti-emetic pills as if it was candy, you lied through your teeth when Alex asked if your little lady felt better, telling him that yes, you felt better.

You tried to act natural, but the more time passed, the more you felt sick and the more time you spent evading Alex, knowing he would grill an answer out of you if he ever suspected something.

After work, you spent as much time as possible driving around searching for the items you needed.

Sara agreed to accompany you to your gynecologist, making it look like a girls' day out. You and your baby were healthy, the doctor assured you, and the pregnancy was going well. "How come hubby's not here?" The doctor asked and you choked on your saliva. "W-well I'm... I'm planning a surprise for him and-" "aww dear that's so nice! What about taking the baby's first photo to add to the surprise?" The man cheered, prepping the machine.

Your hands shook around the freshly printed black and white photo, Sara laughing at your side and telling you to breathe.

You practically sat in front of the entrance door when you bought online one of the items you needed, grabbing the Amazon box like Gollum would do with his precious, running upstairs where you hid all away in your closet.

Then, THE Sunday morning came.

You two had a really intense, really intimate encounter the night before and Alex was still asleep on his side of the bed. His naked body was always a pleasure to see first thing in the morning, you thought as you rolled over to give him a soft kiss on his cheek. "Breakfast in bed…?" You asked in a whisper, obtaining a low 'yah' muffled in the pillow.

With a little chuckle you kissed him again, this time searching for his lips. “Stay here, I’ll do it.” and then you got off the bed, walking downstairs towards the kitchenette.

Everything had been hidden the night before in strategic places, knowing you'd be the first to come and open the cupboards: there sat a new mug you bought for the occasion, with a cheerful 'good morning handsome' written on the side.

As you grabbed it, you smiled a little when you read the other phrase etched and colored on the inside of the mug.

You're going to be a dad.

Heart, heart, heart.

Then, behind it, you grabbed a pair of boxes. One contained a shirt that you immediately donned, bold text reciting 'sending backup' on your chest.

The second remained closed and found its place on the tray you prepared on the island.

Coffee was made, mugs were filled and a plate of cookies was strategically placed on top of the thin box. Then up you went towards upstairs, where Alex was still enveloped in the blankets like a tired mummy.

You smiled against your anxiety, feeling your hands tremble while holding the tray and the teaspoons inside the mugs clinked as you approached.

You tried to remember Sara’s words, he loved you and you would work that through, as you put down the tray near the end of the bed, but when you bent down you felt your stomach churn again, reminding you that yes, you forgot to buy new antiemetics.

Grin and bear, grin and bear… “Good morning…!” you called in a little singsong voice, feeling your heart stop pounding in your ears when he opened his wonderful, glassy-looking blue eyes, still sleepy but oh so shiny. Gemstones filled with entire oceans. “G’morning honey…” he replied, voice husky and a little gruff, stretching his neck to reach for your lips.

The kiss had been gentle, sweet and warm, his lips still soft from a whole night of good sleep. “Coffee’s ready, c’mon...I brought up your favorite cookies, too.” you moved aside, letting him sit up on the mattress, but instead reached for your hand and pulled you closer for another barrage of soft little pecks. “Mmmh ‘m up,” he mumbled between kisses, eyes closed and body one step closer to fall asleep again.

Oh no you didn’t go through all that trouble for him to just sleep on it..! “You’re not up…! C’mon sleepyhead, before it gets cold!” you chuckled, sincerely amused by his weak try in seducing you back to sleep.

Alex huffed and almost dragged himself to sit up, scratching at his collarbone for an instant before his eyes would finally take in the content on the tray. “What’s the occasion?” he smiled confusedly, brows furrowed as he grabbed the new mug, chuckling as he read the outside.

You sat down on the edge of the bed, facing him. “Well, we’ve been in kinda of a rough patch, lately...with too much job or no job at all,” you started to explain, putting a couple of fingers on the thin box so he couldn’t take it immediately. “This is...a gift...for you,” your voice cracked for a second, nervousness starting to show.

He saw that and for a moment Alex paused, mug mid-air.

“...it’s not a ‘sorry I cheated on you’, is it?”

The question came out maybe a little too harsh, Alex noticed only after the last word left his mouth, but he had that strange feeling that you were hiding something, for so long now.

You only snorted for the absurdity of the thought, shaking your head. “You wish! So you could dump my sorry ass and find yourself a rich cougar, uh?” you smiled, trying to ease his deep furrowed brow. “I’m not cheating, you should know-” “Then why have you dodged me for the last three weeks? I saw you talk to Mitch from K-9 a lot, last month” his husky voice came out with a tense curiosity in it.

“Eugh…!” you rolled your eyes. “Why do I stop talking to you about Christmas gifts two weeks before the twenty fifth? Because you spoil yourself with that smart brain of yours!” you grabbed a cookie from the platter and gently threw it at him, making him giggle just a smidge. Alex seemed appeased by your reply, taking another long sip of his coffee. “I would understand, if you cheated. I know I have a terrible personality, even if I try to-” his voice stopped all of a sudden, when his eyes focused on the bottom of the now nearly-empty mug.

His eyes shot back to you almost immediately, finally realizing what was written on your chest. “...that’s why!” he breathed. “That’s why you were all buddy-buddy with Mitch…! Oh no, Y/n, we already talked about it!” he almost whined, putting down the mug. “Don’t tell me you adopted one of the rejects from K-9...please tell me that’s not it…!” he added, a little desperate. “I love dogs, I do, but we’re rarely home one way or another and it would feel alone all day and it would destroy stuff and-” you stopped his rambling by handing him the thin box. “Open it,” you whispered, now nervous for his initial reaction.

If he seemed so negative about life with a dog, what would he say about a child…?

“Please don’t be a collar…” he muttered as his bony fingers removed the lid of the box.

His face became even more confused, as he saw a little square of fabric with some words written on them.

"What…" Slowly he brushed aside the crinkly paper and raised up what he thought was a shirt, but as the piece of clothing unraveled, his entire body froze, trying to compute what he was looking at.

A tiny, black onesie, soft as can be, with tiny little handcuffs on the front.

"Daddy's best backup" was impressed underneath the handcuffs, in bright pastel colors.

Alex didn't react for a good handful of seconds and now you knew how criminals felt while lining up for witness' identification. You never unglued your gaze from your lover, seeing him trying to understand, behind his clear, crystal eyes. You saw his hands tremble as he lowered the baby clothing, his attention passing from the fabric to yourself, then towards the box again.

A couple of fingers moved towards the ultrasound picture that you left on the bottom of the box, barely touching it before letting them sink again in the little onesie's softness. "Y/n…" he croaked your name and your chest went taut out of pure fear. "Is... you're telling me that...that you…" "y-yes" you immediately reply, as to cut short the torturous wait. "I -uhm… I took a couple of tests...and...a-all positive…" you managed to add, watching him sitting on the bed completely lost, as if the news didn't fully hit him.

He looked at the mug, then at the photo without stopping cuddling the tiny onesie with his fingers. "I... we're still in time if you...i-if you don't want–" "What?" He rounded his head towards you, as if snapping to reality.

You gulped, worried. "You...if you're not ready yet...we can wait...I could find a doctor, Sara will help me after the...t-the…" you stopped yourself from crying, the thought of losing the baby feeling like a wound opening in your very soul.

"What do you mean...not ready?" He then asked with a tender whisper. "I…" Alex gave out a shocked chuckle, but the corners of his mouth curled up in a smile. "I'm not the one pregnant with our baby, am I?" The word finally came out of his lips and the way he said it just melted your heart away, its panicked pounding now filling with warmth at every beat.

You watched Alex slowly fold the onesie again, this amazed and completely baffled expression on his face. "Because of Cameron…" you uttered, gripping at the hem of your t-shirt.

Every doubt you had, every fear, it poured out after that. Alex had always been your confident, your wise guide to ask for help and not being able to tell him your grudges for so long did a number on you, especially for something so important like a pregnancy. "I feared you would take this...as a replacement. Make you remember all over again…! I don't want you to….to fall back down in that dark place, Alex. I could never–" your voice gave out in a sob and immediately he seemed to turn back to his usual, protective self.

His hands grabbed the tray and moved it quickly on the other side of the bed, before taking both your hands and pulling you toward him. "Come here honey..." he called under his breath, enveloping you in his strong arms as you found place on his lap. One of his hands came up and started to gently stroke your nape, as the other wrapped around you.

For a moment, you didn't think of anything but his presence. His beating heart underneath his skin, finding your palm. His breath whispering in his lungs and falling onto the top of your head. "Listen... I'll never...never get over Cam. The death of a child is… devastating." He leaned slightly forward, completely hugging you with his frame. "And yes I was in a dark place… I got blinded by my pain and didn't see what I was causing you…and maybe I got addicted to my misery..." his hands shook against you, but he only pushed them a little harder to grip your clothes. "But don't you ever...ever think that I'll make you do something as horrible as abortion. I can't have you experience that kind of pain."

His lips came and kissed your hair, his whole body starting to tremble as well as his fingers. "And this...oh my God Y/n, I'm not accustomed to this kind of happiness anymore…!" Alex laughed now, his voice that stumbled for a moment in his throat. "And now I can't even... I can't find the words to describe how happy I am  right now..."

All of your anxiety melted away as he hugged you now even more. "So...we keep it?" "It's our baby! Of course we keep it!" He chortled at your question, now letting you go only to grab the onesie again, looking at it with tearful eyes, a bright smile on his face.

Alex brought the piece of clothing to his face and closed his eyes, to feel the softness of the fabric. "You always bring me the biggest joys in my life...even in my worst moments, you were there..." his glassy eyes opened again and found yours, the lights in them shining like a dawn after a long storm. "And now you gift me this miracle…our little miracle…"

Silence fell after his words, the speech hanging in the air like mistletoe at Christmas. Heartwarming, hopeful.

He always had his way with words, didn't he?

"This is way better than a dog..."

Sometimes his way with words was the dumbass way.

[collapsingintojupiter]

Sea Urchin

I made me some analogical fluff bc honestly, why not?

Characters: Virgil, Logan, (brief) Roman

Relationships: Analogical, platonic Prinxiety

---

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Roman?”

“Are you kidding me? Of course it’s a good idea!”

“Fish? For a date?” Roman sighed, slinging an arm around Virgil’s shoulder. 

“I’m telling you, oh panic-at-the-everywhere, that taking him to an aquarium will literally make his year. Logan loves the ocean, man.”

“And...and you’re sure he won’t think it’s weird?”

“No, because he’s weird. And so are you.”

“Hey!” Virgil shoved Roman away and glared at him, though it melted into a grin when he laughed that stupid laugh of his.  

“Relax, Virge. He’ll love it, I promise.” He sighed. 

“Okay…”

Half an hour later, Virgil was standing on the doorstep to the Crofter house, his hair awkwardly styled (Roman’s fault), and a plush shark in his hands (also Roman’s fault). Logan opened the door when he knocked, eyes widening at the sight of the plush shark. 

“I uh...here.” Virgil shoved it into Logan’s hands, then tried to remember what Roman had told him to say. “Uh, guess where we’re going today?”

Logan looked at the shark, then up at Virgil. 

Holy shit, I’ve never seen him this excited before. 

“Are...are we going to the aquarium?” At that, Virgil couldn’t help but smile. Maybe Roman’s terrible idea wasn’t so terrible after all. 

“Correct. I heard you were into marine biology, and they have a sale on the admission fee today. Roman also told me you liked sharks.”

Logan smiled--adorably, Virgil thought. 

“Yeah, I do. They’re such fascinating creatures, despite the terrible reputation they’ve been given.”

“That’s good, ‘cause they’ll have plenty where we’re going.” Virgil motioned to his car, which actually wasn’t his car, but his mom’s. “You ready to go?”

“I believe I am adequately prepared, yes.” Logan still held the plush, and carried it to the car with him where he set it on the dashboard. 

“Will it be okay if I keep it in here for now?” he asked as the two climbed inside. 

“Oh, sure!” Virgil said, and his voice definitely didn’t crack. He tried not to look at Logan as he backed the car out of the driveway and started into town; at his messy hair, the soft blue sweater he currently wore over a white button-up, at his blue glasses which had tiny goldfish painted on the sides - Roman’s work, most likely. And it was perfect.

Roman had been Logan’s best friend since the first grade, and from what Virgil had heard the two had become friends in much the same way he had when he’d been transferred to their school in fifth grade. Promptly after arriving Roman had made it his personal goal to befriend him, though Virgil had never understood quite why. Logan said he didn’t either; Roman merely shrugged when asked and said they’d seemed lonely. 

Not that that was true, or anything.

Whatever the case, Virgil did eventually succumb and become a part of the odd group. Later, when they reached highschool, it was again Roman who convinced him to finally ask Logan out. 

At first glance, Logan was little more than a quiet and studious kid with a weird fascination for both space and the deep ocean, something that was weirdly connected to and disconnected from Virgil’s own fascination with cryptids, conspiracies, and aliens. The more he’d gotten to know Logan, however, the more he learned about the nerdy kid’s wilder side; about his impulsive (but fun) antics in the name of science, his crazy ideas “for research purposes only, obviously,” and his long rants about stars at two in the morning when he couldn’t sleep. 

And Virgil fell in love with him. 

Roman noticed he had before he did, actually. He also said that Logan liked him too, and after several weeks of nagging Virgil finally worked up the courage to ask him out himself. And when Logan accepted--well, Virgil didn’t think he’d ever been happier (though he’d never tell Roman that).

“What’s your favorite ocean animal, Lo? Aside from sharks.” Logan glanced up, grinning crookedly. 

“I love eels,” he said. “And sea snakes. And crabs. And...” he stopped himself, and Virgil both tried and failed to hide a laugh. 

“Go ahead,” he said. “Um, do you have a favorite shark species?”

“Certainly. I am most fond of the tiger shark; their unique patterns are quite aesthetically pleasing. Speaking of sharks, did you know that shark skin feels like sandpaper?”

“I didn’t,” Virgil said, even though he did. “Tell me about it.”

“Their skin is made up of specialized placoid scales, which form a special kind of armor for the shark that’s actually quite thick. It’s also so rough that it can actually injure animals that rub against it the wrong way--it’s relatively smooth the other way, compared to it. The shape of the scales also makes the shark more streamlined in the water, so it loses less energy to drag when it’s hunting prey.”

Virgil kinda froze, even though he was still at the wheel, and once again he was struck by how damn smart Logan was, not to mention how cute he was when he got excited, and--

“Uh, Virgil?”

“Yeah?”

“You missed the turn.”

“Dammit!”

- - -

Virgil stood back a little, grinning to himself as Logan pressed his face up against the tank. On the other side of the glass, a rather uncomfortably large fish looked back at them. Virgil had already been dragged around four different rooms in the span of less than fifteen minutes, but despite that he couldn’t wipe the dumb look of adoration from his face as Logan excitedly rambled to him about parrot fish. 

“Did you know that they create bubble nets out of their mucus to hide in from sharks?”

“Uh...no, I didn’t.”

Man, the ocean was weird. 

“Ooh, this way! They have touch tanks in here!”

“They have what now?” Virgil asked, as Logan grabbed his hand and started pulling him into another room. 

“Touch tanks! So you can touch the anemones, urchins, sea cucumbers, and whatever else they have in there! Very fascinating textures, they have. Especially the anemones.”

“Wait wait wait...touch them?”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Logan said quickly, coming to a halt at the room’s entrance. He glanced at Virgil. “If you want I can show you first, and then you can decide. They won’t hurt you.”

“Uh...okay.” Virgil wanted to say no, mostly because being wet was not what he had planned, but Logan seemed so excited about it that he couldn’t help it. Besides, it was just his hand. He’d be fine.

“Here’s a purple sea urchin.” Logan pointed at a little spiky thing in the sand, grinning from ear to ear. “Their spikes can’t hurt us, but they’re cool to touch.” He dipped his hand in, running his finger along one of the urchin’s spines. 

“Whoah, they’re closing together around your finger!” Virgil leaned over the edge of the tank, eyes wide. Logan grinned at him. 

“They trap food with their spines like that, isn’t that cool?”

“You mean it thinks your finger is food?” 

“Yup! Don’t worry though, he can’t hurt me. See?” Logan pulled his hand away easily, showing Virgil. “Wanna try?”

“You’re crazy.” He looked down at the urchin. “...Yes. I’ll try.”

The water was stupid cold, but Virgil rolled up his sleeves, pretended he didn’t notice the adorable smile Logan was giving him, and dipped his hand in. The urchin’s spines were hard, but smooth, and quickly hugged onto his finger as he watched in surprise. 

“You haven’t been to an aquarium before, have you?” Virgil glanced at Logan.  

“I haven’t, no. Ocean always gave me the heebies. Didn’t realize it was so...uh, cool…” he turned away to hide his face, which had turned a delicate shade of rose, and quickly washed his hands while Logan tried to pet every sea cucumber he could find in the tank. 

“They’re very squishy,” he said as he joined Virgil by the entrance. “Very smooth. I like them.”

“I can tell,” Virgil answered with a grin. 

They went to more tanks, then ate at the cafe inside. Logan excused himself after they sat down, leaving Virgil alone for a few minutes as he disappeared. 

Virgil pulled his patch jacket closer around his shoulders, and let out a small sigh. He’d never been much of a learner like Logan was - sleeping in class, doodling on the margins of his notebooks, ignoring the teacher and everything around him...but learning from Logan was so different, so...fun. He realized he’d been enjoying himself immensely the whole time, even though he now had more facts on sea cucumbers than he’d ever know what to do with. 

Being with Logan was fun, he thought. 

“What are you thinking about, Virgil?”

“GAH! Logan, why?”

“I apologize.” Logan sat down, a smile hiding in his eyes as he tried to look sheepish. “I uh, didn’t realize that you hadn’t noticed my presence.”

“It’s alright,” Virgil shook his head, pushing a plate of food towards him. “You just startled me.”

“I will try to avoid doing so in the future.” 

They talked about black holes and green sand; about comets and cone snails and nebulae and nurse sharks. 

And Virgil loved it. 

At last, the day had gone and it was time to go. Virgil was exhausted, but glowing with happiness as they made their way towards the exit. Logan held his hand; similarly quiet, similarly happy. 

As they reached the front door, he stopped and turned to him. 

“I uh...got you something,” Logan said quietly, holding something up for him to see. 

“Is...is that an urchin plush?”

“I, uh...I thought that since…I went back to the gift shop...wanted to get something special...”

“I love it.” Virgil gently took the plush from Logan, cupping it in his hands and feeling how soft it was in his fingers. Logan grinned widely, and before either boy knew what was happening they were in each other’s arms. Logan’s embrace was gentle, but firm, and Virgil was pretty sure he never wanted to leave his arms again. 

Silently, he thanked Roman for his best terrible idea ever.

[inkstaineddove]

Asystole

Ships: AusHun

Characters: Hungary, Austria; mentioned Prussia

Summary: His empire failing, Austria is desperate enough to make anything work. His empire failing, Hungary is desperate enough to finally break free. One of them must give.

Vienna, 1867.

Erzsébet padded across the hallway, spine stiff and shoulders rolled back. A minute before, some poor servant had been tasked to play the messenger, urging her to head to the office straightaway. Ordinarily, this sort of urgency would’ve shocked her; today, it was expected. All people talked, from the lowliest maid to the richest of emperors, and word of their machinations never seemed to escape her. Plus – if she allowed herself a moment of honesty, instead of falsely praising her cunning – her politicians had told her everything. There truly were no surprises.

Her first sight upon entering was that of Austria, scowling down at whatever papers were before him. She wondered when she had last seen him smile – and not the fake one he flashed at diplomats and hangers’ on, but the real one. It couldn’t have been years, could it? It seemed true enough, but for his sake she hoped she was wrong.

“Are you intending to get your face frozen like that or do you just enjoy tempting fate?” Hungary slid into her seat as she spoke. Her voice lilted up in a way that would sound like gentle teasing to the untrained ear.

Fortunately, his was trained perfectly to her pitch. He rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair, looking as if he was in no mood to be messed with. He’d been looking like that a lot recently. It disappointed her, only because it put a damper on her fun. There was little joy in kicking a dog while it was down, even one prone to biting.

“Would you prefer I pretend to sit here, giddy about all my misfortunes? If you wanted that, you should’ve convinced your boyfriend his time and resources would’ve been better off warring with a different enemy of the hour.” Austria attempted to keep his tone dispassionate, though it didn’t work. Try as he might, it never did.

She sniffed, scrunching up her nose. “Do you have to call him my ‘boyfriend?’ That sounds so…juvenile.” It was a minor thing to pick a fight over, but she certainly wasn’t going to over whether Prussia’s war had been legitimate. There was no need when they both agreed.

“I feel I have to because, if I didn’t and forgot my restraint, I’d be tempted to call him something awful like your little bitch, but I would never. I’m above that.” Austria smiled, all teeth and hostility, and Hungary wondered how nice they would look knocked out on the floor.

She flicked her wrist dismissively. No reason to get herself worked up over something so petty. There was business to discuss and deals to be made. She leaned her weight onto the arm of her chair. “Can you just tell me what you want? You know how it is, so many rebellions to plan and so little time.”

A quirk of an eyebrow was enough to show his displeasure. “Not like you to play the fool. There’s no reason for you to pretend to be so unaware.”

“If I didn’t pretend, you might get curious on my methods. If I reveal my hand, there goes whatever illusory personal freedoms I have. You want me even more miserable than I am?” His silence was the answer she wanted. She smiled, resting her cheek on her hand. “So, tell me. What does Hofburg have in store for me?”

“You’ll be thrilled to know that for a change, it’s an offer instead of an edict. I don’t see any point in attempting to sweeten reality to you – you live here and you’re not an idiot, after all. The empire, my empire, is in an increasingly bleak situation. You would think this would endear me into the hearts of all my subjects, but I suppose I underestimated how deep nationalism’s poison infected their bloodstreams,” Austria rolled his eyes at his own foolishness. “Yours being the most infected – and, as you love to remind me – being the most likely to one day succeed, a deal needs to be made to quell their bloodlust.”

That certainly was one way to put it. Hungary couldn’t stop herself from laughing, unable to look at Austria’s overly serious expression or risk breaking into hysterics. Taking a deep breath, she composed herself, though still with a noticeable smirk. “Bloodlust? Really, Roderich? They want independence, not the death of every Austrian. Who has the time for that kind of petty revenge?”

He scoffed, clearly insulted. “As if they’d be capable of that. If I had to sacrifice a few peasants here and there to keep them peaceful, I wouldn’t bat an eye. My kingdom for a commoner is a trifle. No, the blood they want is mine. They want to see what I’ve built up over the centuries diminished in months, in days. I’ve jumped into wars for less, you know as much. Unfortunately, I don’t think we’d fare well if an army were sent in and the backlash for such a heavy-handed move doesn’t make it worth the trouble.” He shook his head, clearing his mind of useless plans.

Hungary pitied him. Look how desperate he was to hold onto something so ephemeral, so meaningless. Empires came and went like the seasons. Here was a man who thought himself wise, yet he couldn’t grasp such a basic tenet of their existence. She had learnt it; so had Poland and Lithuania and every other plaything these so-called ‘powers’ sought. It was a lunacy, one that infected all of them the same. Now his was crumbling all around him and instead of attempting to move on, he would drag out the process. It was predictable and entirely disappointing. Despite having no reason to, she expected better of him.

She sighed and turned her gaze away from him. If she stared at him any longer, she’d feel nauseous. “What do you want from me?”

Relieved to be back on track, Austria’s body became less rigid. “Nothing, really. My offer is quite favorable to you. Our marriage, partnership, whatever descriptor you prefer becomes one of equals. Complete control of your lands returns to you. You’ll have the privilege or the torture to pore over the minutiae of whatever half-formed, barely coherent policy is cooked up by your own hacks in Budapest. Christ, am I normally this cynical?” He shook off the self-awareness. That could be dealt with later or, preferably, never. “Really, everything you’ve ever harassed me and all my various rulers about is now yours. You lose nothing in this arrangement.”

“Everything, bar the most important thing. Just because it’s been roughly twenty years hasn’t changed what the people want. You’re not giving me anything you view as important. Ruling my people has become an inconvenience, so you’ll hand it off to me. Ten years ago, you would’ve been insulted at the prospect. And now the insulted party will be us.” She sighed, shaking her head. “Why is conceding so difficult for your lot to do? Clinging onto everything will only make the inevitable that much harder.”

His eyes narrowed as he stared her down. “Nothing is inevitable. We’re in a difficult spot, but we’ve been through those before. As long as I bide my time and there’s no more incidents, everything will be back on track and no one will make anymore of their bitchy little comments.” The way he sneered as he said that last part, she was willing to bet that bothered him more than anything else. He tried smiling at her, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve conceded a lot to you with this. Fine, you’re not quite independent, but it’s just as good. In some ways, I’m doing you a favor. Foreign policy is such a nuisance. All of them are sharks, all of them would be circling you, sniffing out fresh blood. Europe isn’t how you remember it.”

Hungary grinded her teeth together. Patronizing, always patronizing. Even desperate for her assistance, he couldn’t view her as a peer. And then he wondered why she behaved the way she did? Why, sometimes, she can’t even stand to be near him? He was dumber than he had any right to be.

“Do you think I’ve been completely isolated from the world? I know how they all act, how they all think. The only ones I’d have to worry about fighting off would be you and Russia, and without me, what army do you have?” She smiled, enjoying how that blow landed. How could he argue against it? He’d said as much to her – sometimes with pride, sometimes with fear – many times throughout the years. “And believe me, I would love to strike out on my own and form my own alliances. I can think of a few who’d be more than happy to spurn you with a treaty or two.”

He folded his arms over his chest, staring at her with derision. “Insulting me won’t get you what you want, Liebchen.” He practically snarled out the nickname. Pet names had always been their favorite weapons. “This is the only deal you have. I don’t get all your bitching either. We negotiated with two of your most darling heroes. There’s no need for you to be putting up this much of a fight. Will you ever be satisfied with anything I do for you, or should I learn to accept your eternal disdain?”

She took shaky breaths through her nose. That was hardly enough to constrain her. “Perhaps I’d be more accepting of the terms if you’d bother to invite me to negotiations! I appreciate,” she roared the word out, her fury overtaking her, “that you were oh-so-fucking considerate enough to know who I would’ve chosen to be my representative. And here I thought you only paid attention to my lands to slaughter innocents! But you have never, will never, respect me enough to listen to me on what my own goddamn people want! Deák and Andrássy are good men, but they know nothing compared to me! How many times must I scream this at you until you get it? If I’m not allowed to have any free will in this life, then so be it! That’s my curse, but at least let me speak on their behalf! Give me the chance, the fucking chance, to win them the freedoms it appears I’ll never have!”

She only realized she was leaning over his desk when she was done. Her rage, built up over the centuries, was causing her to tremble. Staring into Roderich’s eyes, she swore she could kill him. She swore she could and it would be the last time, the most permanent of his deaths. It was so vivid in her mind that, for a moment, she believed it to be reality.

What brought her back to the present was how utterly bored he appeared at her antics. Here was the same song and dance they performed for each other. Here it was, meant to play out for eternity. Why would he fear her? What could she do to him that was permanent? Nothing. The one thing she could, he locked it away in some deal she wasn’t allowed to be apart of.

“Don’t you ever get tired of carrying on like that? So sanctimonious. As if your cause is the most just. Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to be bound to you?” He shook his head. “I’m convinced that if you ever tried to shut up, it would kill you. Though, honestly, I’d be grateful for the silence.” As she sat down, he smiled with an unrivaled arrogance. “There. Now, please, Erzsébet, try to be reasonable for a change. There’s no use in becoming so hysterical over this. Everything doesn’t have to be such a battle. Fighting like this, you haven’t taken a break in centuries. Aren’t you tired?”

She would not be baited. She refused to tell him what he wanted to hear, refused even if it were partially true. “The only thing I’m tired of is being brushed aside, but I know not to expect change from you.” She looked outside the window and sighed. “The ink is already dried, isn’t it? I can’t stop what’s been put in motion.”

“For the most part. All it needs is ratification. Though, we’ve been assured that that won’t be an issue.” Once more, he relaxed against the back of his chair. His relief was clear across his face. “I’m glad you’ve calmed yourself of those delusions. While I can commend your…dedication, you’ll have much more important things to busy yourself with.”

Hungary smiled, pleased with his false sense of security. “You’re right, there will be. I understand that, at this point, I can’t prevent anything. But, when news travels around, most will not be happy. This flies in the face of everything they’ve worked so hard to achieve over these last few years. They’ve been sold out, and I’m inclined to believe them.” She licked her lips, savoring the moment. “So, when the people take to the streets, when they demand what they know is owed to them, I won’t try to smooth things over. Never again. I will be right beside them, doing whatever I can to rile them up. Whatever they choose to do, however they decide to handle this, I will support them with every fiber of my being. And if that creates problems for you?” She stood up, smirking and curtseying. “Solve them yourself. I’m no propaganda piece.”

Head held high, she began striving out of the room. It was the only card she had left, the only thing she could think of. With every step she took, she prayed he’d be as weak as she knew he was. He had said it himself, there was nothing he could do to fight anything. Today did not come about out of a position of strength for him.

“Wait, Erzsébet! Please, don’t do this.” She heard him rise, heard the soft steps of his feet. “If you do that, neither of us will walk away from this looking good.” A soft intake of breath from him. “For once, I’m not too proud to admit that I need you. But, please, don’t throw it all away over nothing.” His voice was gentle, as if he were pleading with a lioness and not a woman.  

When he reached out, she allowed him to touch her and spin her around. When had his hands last been that soft? Cornered, he was like a new man. “All you have to offer me is insults. What should I stay around for? I have more to gain away from you than besides you. I always have.”

“I know, dammit I know!” She watched his Adam’s apple shift as he swallowed. Roderich’s eyes were wide, all too aware that he was on the precipice. “Not now, though. You’re right, you’re my equal. I’ll give you whatever I can, within reason, to prevent that. Anything to prevent you from ruining me.”

The urge to scowl at his self-preservation was there. What else should she have expected? He was still Roderich; nothing could change the core of a man. Still, this was further than she’d ever gotten before. “You know me well enough to know what I want.”

“I assumed I did when making the last deal and look where it got me. Forgive me for wanting you to spell it out.” The beginning of a smile appeared on his face.

Erzsébet didn’t know whether to laugh or sigh. Feeling off-kilter, she settled for sitting on the sofa. “Not even you could mess this one up. I’m tired of sneaking around your back to leave the home. I’m not a young girl and you’re certainly not my father and you will stop treating me as such. If it’s that important to you, there’s only three places I’d be anyway, and you know them all. More importantly, start treating me like a person! You want your life to be less miserable? Then do yourself a favor and at least treat me with indifference, I’d rather that than constant disgust.” Her eyes met his and held them, challenging him to deny her. “And, whenever some big decision comes up, you better discuss it with me and actually give some consideration to my thoughts. You’re not any smarter than me and I’m as aware on everything as you are. If this is going to be both our futures, for whatever time you just bought yourself, then I’m not going to do anything to sabotage it.”

“That’s the very least of what I can do.” If she hadn’t known better, she would’ve thought she a flash of shame in his eyes. It couldn’t have been. She doubted that he could feel such things, so high were the walls he’d built.

She studied him skeptically. That had been far too easy. There must’ve been something he’d want in return. He couldn’t just have thought what he’d taken was enough. “Don’t you have anything you want from me? There’s no terms?”

Roderich paused, deciding his best course of action. He shrugged, apparently not finding any trap in her words. “Two. The first: cut off the affair. It can be anyone else, but not him. On a personal level, this will make me look like an even bigger cuckold than we all know I am.”

Erzsébet’s eyes hardened and she leaned away from him. “No, that’s out of the question.”

He frowned when she offered no further explanation. “Really? You could do so much better. Don’t tell me you actually love him.”

“You have no right to my personal life.”

“Right. I thought that was the case.” She couldn’t quite distinguish the exact emotions in his voice beyond disappointment and resignation. There was a layer to it that wasn’t simple to place.

He snapped her out of her thoughts when he spoke again. “Now, the emperor wants this sealed with some sort of formal wedding between us. I begged him to do anything but this. Unfortunately for the both of us, he thought it would make such a lovely story for the masses.” He gave an embarrassed smile. “I’m also not exactly asking for you to do this, since there became a gentleman’s agreement on it, but something that means much more to me.” He grew serious again at whiplashing speed. “Let me break the news to Gilbert. Give me the satisfaction.”

Erzsébet could imagine how it’d go. How the scene played out in her mind, it was horrid. Her stomach wrenched. “You’d wreck him.”

“That’s the point,” Roderich wore a cruel smile. He’d been imagining it as well.

“Why do you think I’d ever let you do that?”

He shrugged in an effort to appear nonchalant and failed. “Simple, really. If you tell him yourself, do you think he’ll believe you can’t just stop it? God, he’ll have every moronic scheme to prevent it and act all wounded when you tell him it can’t. I wouldn’t be surprised if he thought he were just your little plaything all along. Even though I have ‘no right to your personal life,’ as you so kindly put it, I’m no fool. What’s the point in risking it and being stuck with me?” He smiled at her, warm in a way she was unfamiliar with. His tone attempted to strike a friendliness that didn’t fit him. “If I do it, he hates me, comes sobbing to you about it, and you can both continue to curse my very existence. The status quo is maintained. It’s an obvious choice to me.”

She wandered if he’d prepared that speech just for now. It was tempting to ask him, but the knowing would be worse. Ignorance could, indeed, be a bliss. Erzsébet knew there was an ulterior motive for his words, there always was with him. He wasn’t Feliks, who she wouldn’t feel such guilt over listening to. Still, there was a human part of her that needed outside validation regardless of the source. “Do you think I’m a coward?” Her voice was so soft, she wondered if he’d even heard her.

“No, because I can understand it. Sometimes it’s braver to manipulate.” There was an understanding in his voice. She wouldn’t be surprised if this were coming from experience.

“Fine, but don’t be crueler than you have to. Try to have some compassion if you can.” There was a feeling of hollowness Erzsébet forced herself to ignore. Her life would be livable, that was what was most important. No one would have done it differently.

“He’ll get what he deserves,” Roderich bit back his irritation. They both knew who it was really for. Instead, he nodded his head and offered her his arm. “I’m sure you don’t want to spend the rest of the day watching me work. Allow me to walk you to the door.”

She politely took his arm. They walked in silence to the door, too busy was her mind for idle chatter. Anyways, hadn’t they said enough? Only on her way out did she smile at him and offer him her thanks.

He smiled at her. “Thank you. I promise I’ll make this worthwhile.”

[purplesurveys]

1232

Did you make any money today?  Not today, because it’s a weekend.

What was the highest place you've ever jumped from?  I’m not too sure, actually. I tend to be cautious when it comes to jumping just because I always have this fear at the back of my head that I could possibly snap my legs in half upon landing lol.

Have you ever gone swimming in a river?  I don’t think I have.

Is there something you really want to buy at the moment?  I want a jumbo RJ doll but it’s quite expensive and not one of my priorities at the moment. 

Would you ever consider culinary school?  I want to learn how to cook but not passionate enough about it to enroll in culinary school altogether, so no.

What was the last souvenir someone got you?  It’s been a while since anyone went anywhere...

Do you have a favorite remix of a song?  I’ve never enjoyed remixes and just stick to original versions of songs. The one remix I’ll give a pass to is BTS’ Mic Drop with Steve Aoki just because that one includes a dance break that sounds really nice and gets me all hyped up.

Has the power gone out recently?  Yeah, like two weeks ago. I was working from home then so it had been a huge bother, but fortunately I had been charging my devices all day and also had enough data on my phone so I was able to continue.

Do you like driving at night?  It’s ok and actually pretty relaxing if it’s LATE late at night and there’s barely any cars. Driving in the evening during rush hour, on the other hand, is just fucking stressful.

What do you think is the most saddest sounding instrument?  Depending on how it’s played, probably the piano or violin.

Do you really pay attention to the ratings on movies?  Yes. It’s a pretty influential factor.

Have you ever snuck in to a theater/dance/bar etc?  No.

If given the chance, would you go to Ireland?  I mean, it’s not really on top of my bucket list but for the sake of travelling and experiencing a different place and culture I definitely would go to Ireland.

Are you afraid of standing on the edge of hills/skyscrapers/cliffs etc?  I am scared but whenever I’m given the chance to do this I kind of scrap that fear first and live in the moment.

Do you have a favorite species of wild cat (tiger/lion/cougar etc)?  No.

Do you have an absolute favorite name (boy or girl)? Alessandra, 120%. It is so beautiful-sounding, plus I love that you can use "Alessa" as a nickname. My Silent Hill obsession is quite thrilled by that, ha ha. < I love that name too, now that I think about it. For now, I think Olivia still tops my list.

Are you good at pronouncing foreign words?  My English is alright.

When listening to music, do you usually tap your foot etc to the beat?  I tap my fingers more than my foot.

Have you ever literally cried on a friend's shoulder?  Yeah but they were also my significant other then, so I dunno if that counts. I’m not super into physical touch so this isn’t something I’d do towards a friend, no matter how close we are.

Would you ever consider being a DJ at a party if you were paid?  Nah, I would suck.

Do strapless bras work for you?  No, my boobs are too small. 

Has anyone told you that they wanted to marry you/were planning on it/etc?  No.

Do you feel comfortable enough to wear short shorts?  Yeah, I just never really have the opportunity to wear them.

Have a favorite actor/actress from Old Hollywood? (Marilyn Munroe, etc) AUDREY HEPBURNNNNNNNNNN

What's your opinion on people who stretch their ears?  They can do whatever they want lol. I’m personally not a fan of the look but that’s my own problem to deal with.

Do you think tattoos are expressive art or unattractive?  Expressive.

What is your school mascot?  None of the schools I attended have one.

Have you ever seen a bear in the wild? I have never seen a bear.

What's the book you're currently reading?  Not reading anything at the moment.

Can you recall the most disturbing movie you've ever seen?  Eraserhead. Requiem For A Dream is also stressful to watch, even on your 2nd or 45th rewatch.

Has anyone you know gotten mono?  Possibly, but I can’t place names at the moment.

Have you ever picked an apple off the tree and eaten it?  No. Aside from the fact that I don’t eat fruits, apple trees aren’t native here so I’ve never actually seen one.

Can you say yes/no in different languages?  Oo/hindi, ne/ani.

Out of the traditional superheroes, which one is your favorite?  I don’t like superheroes.

Ever peed in your pants after the age of 10?  Not in my pants but my bed, but fortunately it just happened once.

Had any surgeries? What kind?  I have not.

Ever told your parents you hated them?  I had it written down on my journal when I was going through those rebellious puberty years, but it was only directed towards my mom because that had also been the peak of her emotionally/mentally abusive days. It’s funny because she snooped through my stuff then and saw the entry and ended up crying...and I didn’t even feel bad about it because 1) I meant what I wrote, and 2) she literally went through my shit. I still don’t feel bad about it.

Do you let your pets on your furniture?  Yes they can get on the couch and my bed.

How do you feel about kettle cooked chips?  I don’t really have an opinion lmao. If they are chips then they are going in my mouth.

How strong do you like your coffee?  I like milky/creamy coffee best tbh. When it comes to how strong they are I don’t have a preference.

Would you rather see someone of the opposite sex naked or nicely dressed?  Idk.

Would you ever consider visiting Texas?  I have relatives based in San Antonio and we’re pretty close to that side of the family, so yeah. 

If you could make a movie, what would it be about?  I’ve never been one for creative writing.

If you were kicked out of your current residence whom would you call?  My grandma or one of my aunts.

Do you want a boyfriend or girlfriend?  Not at this point in my life.

Do you prefer broccoli or asparagus?  Oooooohh I love both!

Was the last person you kissed attractive?  Objectively yes, but I no longer feel the attraction I once held for her.

Are you racist at all?  No.

Do you read creepypasta? If not, you should.  No thanks.

Have you ever vandalized?  Yeah some desks when I was in grade school.

Would you ever scuba dive in shark-infested waters if you had the chance? Most likely not. And by the way, they do not "infest" waters. That's their home. I hate that phrase so much. < This is a good point and I’d like to keep it here. Anywho, yeah I’m willing to do this but as far as I know they keep you in a cage when you go down in the water. I’d only do it if this was guaranteed lol.

Have you ever been drunk at work?  Hungover, yes. Drunk while at work, hell no.

Have you ever hit a parked car with your car?  No. My mom has done this with my parked car though -____- She had been backing up and I kept honking as she inched closer to my car, but she heeded me no mind until she finally hit me.

Have you ever slept on the floor with someone you like?  We probably had but I don’t remember the details anymore.

Which do you prefer: french toast, bagels, or cereal?  Bagels.

Do you prefer light or dark haired?  Dark.

Have you ever read any of the Chicken Soup for the Soul books?  Yes, I liked reading those in like grade school and high school.

Would you be prepared to do a job that you didn’t like, if it paid well?  I haven’t been placed in that situation yet, so I’m not actually sure how I would handle it. Depends on how much the money is, I guess.

Do you think age is needed for maturity?  No.

Do you believe the future is predetermined?  I don’t think so.

What words are most comforting to you?  Words of reassurance, like, “I’m just here,” “You don’t have to apologize.”

How important is money to you?  It is generally pretty important to me and I’m usually good at saving...I’ve just hit a road bump the last few months because getting into K-Pop means wanting to get something out of every new merch drop hahahaha. I went alarmingly crazy from April to June, but I made a vow to calm down starting this July; and so far, aside from pre-ordering the new Memories of 2020 DVD and buying some merch from the pop-up store, I haven’t bought anything else.

Is there anything you want to last forever?  Cold weather in the Philippines.

List three of your passions:  Writing, food, and museums.

How old do you want to live to? Just because I’m competitive even until age, I want to make it to 100 lmao.

What kind of love do you value the most?  Very comfortable platonic love. I highly value friendships where I can pretty much treat them like an SO hahaha.

If you could control one element, what would it be?  I don’t care.

Do you prefer foxes or wolves?  No preferences.

Could you ever deliver a baby?  OMG no I would be terrible and would for sure bring more harm than good to the mother.

Do you think suits are sexy?  Uh yeah.

Ever been called babe?  Yeah.

How old is your youngest sibling?  18.

Who in your phone has a heart after their name?  Angela.

Favorite boy’s name?  I guess I have several preferences, but I dunno if I have favorite boy’s names. I like the sounds of Lucas, Jacob, Liam, and Mason.

Are your parents together, separated, divorced, never married, what?  Married.

Do you go online every day?  For sure.

What is the best quality in the last guy you kissed?  I’ve never kissed a guy.

What do you usually do during a kiss? Depends on how passionate it is? < Yeah.

Do you have an older brother?  Technically no, but I have a cousin that I pretty much see as one.

You’re offered free tickets to a Justin Bieber concert. What do you do?  I love Biebs, but I would probably sell them. Some extra money is always good hahaha.

What’s the genre of the current song you’re listening to?  K-Pop, R&B.

Would you ever keep your favorite animal as a pet?  Yeah, I already have two of them.

Would you ever sell your soul?  Erm, I guess not.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #412

“there’s nothing i could ever write to help you understand this life  /  there’s so much beauty when your eyes lay lost in all the city lights”

Did you make any money today? Nope. What was the highest place you've ever jumped from? Idk. Have you ever gone swimming in a river? Yes, but it wasn't in a fast-flowing area of it. Is there something you really want to buy at the moment? I mention Venus' terrarium enough, so besides that, I'd really like to buy a plane ticket to see Sara, as well as new glasses. Would you ever consider culinary school? No. What was the last souvenir someone got you? uhhhhhhhh Do you have a favorite remix of a song? BOI I couldn't begin. Has the power gone out recently? No. Do you like driving at night? NOOOOOOO. What do you think is the most saddest sounding instrument? Either a violin or piano. Do you really pay attention to the ratings on movies? Nope. Have you ever snuck in to a theater/dance/bar etc? No. If given the chance, would you go to Ireland? Yeah! I'd love to go on a photography journey there. Are you afraid of standing on the edge of hills/skyscrapers/cliffs etc? Yeah, heights scare me and I have a serious case of "what if I jumped off?". I'm not suicidal or anything, but there's an actual term for that urge that is somewhat normal. I just can't remember what it is. Do you have a favorite species of wild cat (tiger/lion/cougar etc)? Probably the clouded leopard. But I LOVE wild cats. I think lions are the most interesting. Do you have an absolute favorite name (boy or girl)? Alessandra, 120%. It is so beautiful-sounding, plus I love that you can use "Alessa" as a nickname. My Silent Hill obsession is quite thrilled by that, ha ha. Are you good at pronouncing foreign words? I'm decent with German. When listening to music, do you usually tap your foot etc to the beat? It's weird, I actually have a habit of swaying my leg back and forth. Not even to the beat, I just do it. Have you ever literally cried on a friend's shoulder? Yes. Would you ever consider being a DJ at a party if you were paid? No. Do strapless bras work for you? Look man my boobs are too big for those lmao. Has anyone told you that they wanted to marry you/were planning on it/etc? Many times. Guess who's not around anymore. Do you feel comfortable enough to wear short shorts? HELL no. Have a favorite actor/actress from Old Hollywood? (Marilyn Munroe, etc) Not really. What's your opinion on people who stretch their ears? You do you, boo. Do you think tattoos are expressive art or unattractive? A R T ! ! ! What is your school mascot? I'm not in school. Have you ever seen a bear in the wild? No. What's the book you're currently reading? Wings of Fire: Moon Rising. Can you recall the most disturbing movie you've ever seen? Paranormal Entity. Has anyone you know gotten mono? My older sister did when she was I think in high school. Have you ever picked an apple off the tree and eaten it? Yes, actually! It was one of the best apples I'd ever tasted. Can you say yes/no in different languages? In German, ja. (See what I did there lololol I'm clever.) Out of the traditional superheroes, which one is your favorite? Spider-Man. Ever peed in your pants after the age of 10? Maybe TMI, but a few years ago, I had a very strange episode of premature incontinence. It stopped, but it was very weird and embarrassing. Had any surgeries? What kind? I had tubes put in my ears as a two-year-old, and I wanna say at the end of 2016 is when I had my cyst removal surgery. Ever told your parents you hated them? My dad, yes. Very vehemently. I will always regret the letter I sent him. Do you let your pets on your furniture? Of course. This is their house, too. How do you feel about kettle cooked chips? Ew. How strong do you like your coffee? I don't like coffee, period. Would you rather see someone of the opposite sex naked or nicely dressed? Uhhhh I dunno. I guess it depends on the mood. Would you ever consider visiting Texas? I have friends there I'd love to meet, but I don't think so. Too hot. If you could make a movie, what would it be about? Some of the less-upsetting/disturbing RP stories I've taken part in writing. If you were kicked out of your current residence whom would you call? My dad. Do you want a boyfriend or girlfriend? I mean I do, but I don't think now is the time. I need to set shit straight about myself first. Do you prefer broccoli or asparagus? Broccoli. Asparagus is repulsive. Was the last person you kissed attractive? She's gorgeous. Are you racist at all? Not at all. Do you read creepypasta? If not, you should. Nah. Have you ever vandalized? Nope. Would you ever scuba dive in shark-infested waters if you had the chance? Most likely not. And by the way, they do not "infest" waters. That's their home. I hate that phrase so much. Have you ever been drunk at work? No. Have you ever hit a parked car with your car? No. Have you ever slept on the floor with someone you like? Yes. I remember Jason and I made a palette on the living room floor at least one night. It was SO uncomfortable. I don't even remember why we did it. Which do you prefer: french toast, bagels, or cereal? French toast. *_* Do you prefer light or dark haired? I prefer colorful hair. Have you ever read any of the Chicken Soup for the Soul books? No. I remember we had at least one, though. Would you be prepared to do a job that you didn’t like, if it paid well? No. That would affect my depression so badly. Do you think age is needed for maturity? Absolutely not. Do you believe the future is predetermined? No. What the hell would even be the point if it was? Like you'd have no free will; you'd just be a character in a story a higher power wrote. What words are most comforting to you? "I love you," "I'm here for you," "you're strong enough to get through this," stuff like that. How important is money to you? I have a stressful relationship with money. I've never in my life had a stable income because the three jobs I've had were so incredibly short-lived, so the money I DO get, I cherish the shit outta it.. I make sure I REALLY want something, and I mean it modestly, but I'm also honestly pretty selfless with money, too. I'm very willing to leave considerable tips, I don't mind buying pricey gifts for people if I think they would really, really like it, stuff like that. Going my whole life being poor, I just understand the situation so well and want to help people where I can. Is there anything you want to last forever? Love. By that I mean I hope even beyond death, the relationships we built in life stretch into what afterlife there may be. List three of your passions: Animals and their conservation, LGBTQ+ rights, and the pro-choice movement. How old do you want to live to? As old as I can before the point of being totally dependent on others to do things like clean me and stuff. I do NOT want to be get to the point of essentially being a rotting corpse. What kind of love do you value the most? Romantic, honestly. There's just something so special about it. If you could control one element, what would it be? Water I suppose, because it would be the most helpful. Do you prefer foxes or wolves? Man, that's hard, but I guess foxes. Could you ever deliver a baby? I don't think I could. I handle stomach pain VERY poorly, and I know I would screech loud enough to crack the damn sky before it would be time to perform the epidural. Do you think suits are sexy? Yeah. Ever been called babe? Yeah. How old is your youngest sibling? She's 23. Who in your phone has a heart after their name? Sara. Favorite boy’s name? Probably Severin. Are your parents together, separated, divorced, never married, what? Divorced. Do you go online every day? Yep. What is the best quality in the last guy you kissed? The last guy I kissed, maybe his loyalty. He has ALWAYS been there for me. He's also funny as hell. What do you usually do during a kiss? Depends on how passionate it is? Do you have an older brother? I do. You’re offered free tickets to a Justin Bieber concert. What do you do? Sell those bad boys. What’s the genre of the current song you’re listening to? Pop. Can you believe it?? Would you ever keep your favorite animal as a pet? ABSOLUTELY not. I could write an actual essay on why meerkats should NOT be kept as pets. Would you ever sell your soul? Noooo thanks.

[bitchardhendricks]

Well I’ve Never Been to Heaven (But I’ve Been to Oklahoma) pt 17

I know it’s been a terribly long time since I last updated - to be frank, the last couple of weeks have been almost too full to bear. Wife and I foster dogs through a local shelter, and our most recent was a hospice foster whom we had for the last 6 months (aka all of quarantine and beyond). He finally declined to the point that we had to make the call, and we said goodbye to him last weekend and honestly? I’ve been too sad to do much writing or thinking about writing, because this loss, even though it was an expected one, has left a massive hole in my heart. Unrelated, but I am now in the remote wilderness of Colorado in a cabin for Wife’s 30th birthday - essentially sheltering in place, but with a hot tub and mountain views. It finally feels a little easier to breathe and the getaway has done me a lot of good. Here’s an extra-long update of Tulsa fic for an extra-long wait. I hope you all are taking care of yourselves out there and giving yourself breaks where you can. Catch up on past entries here, and come say hi and tell me about the pets that you’ve loved.

***

When Richard opens his eyes on Saturday morning with his face smushed against his pillow he suffers a dizzying moment of time travel - he’s in his childhood bedroom wearing one of his old high school t-shirts and seeing his Ninja Turtle sleeping bags rolled up on the floor. But there’s no Big Head playing N64 at the foot of his bed, and his sheets smell like detergent and some familiar floral scent he can’t quite place, not spilled Red Bull and teen boy sweat. 

He flops over onto his back and closes his eyes for a moment, breathes deeply through his nose. Hears his sister’s voice, teasing but not mean: mooning over someone, that’s what he looks like. His mother’s voice. He’s a million miles away, like always. Jared’s voice, hushed in the dark. All I wanted was to find a place that I belonged, where I was wanted. Isn’t that what Richard always wanted too? Jesus, how many nights did he spend in this room, in this bed counting down the days until he could finally fucking escape, trying with all his might to think himself away from this place. “Creation is an act of sheer will,” after all.

And what did you create, Richie? 

You made a shitty music player that no one fucking wanted, and you gave away your one good idea to your competition. What does that leave you with - a great company name? Shit, if Jared hadn't seen the potential of the algorithm, you wouldn't even have a company. Jared sparked the idea for middle-out. Without him, you wouldn't have middle-out, you wouldn't be a CEO. You wouldn't have anything at all.

Maybe Jared knows what he's talking about. 

***

Diane’s already awake, a coffee cup cradled in her hands at the kitchen table, when Jared carefully and quietly emerges from Richard’s bedroom and shuts the door. 

“Mornin’ sugar,” she whispers and gestures for Jared to sit next to her, which he does. "I didn't expect anyone to be awake yet on a Saturday. You must be an early riser, like me. Here, sit you a spell, lemme grab you some coffee. Did you sleep well?” she asks, as she gets up to fetch him a mug of his own. This force of Diane's maternal energy continues to catch him off guard, and he reaches for an answer like a man in an unfamiliar hotel room groping for the light.

“Oh yes, they were all nightmares I’ve had before so I knew my escape routes. I feel fresh as a daisy!”

“Mm, that’s good,” she replies, sounding far away as she rummages through a cabinet and pulls out a mug, then pads over to the coffee pot to fill it. “You take cream and sugar, sweetheart?”

“Black is fine,” Jared says, and gratefully accepts the cup she offers him. It says HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY in comic sans font surrounding a faded photo of the entire Hendricks family, sometime in the mid-90s from the look of the boldly patterned oversize knit sweater on Steven and the perms sported by both Diane and Caitlyn. They’re standing in a verdant field in front of a split rail fence, Steven and Diane in the back, Caitlyn and Richard in front; Richard is a skinny, coltish boy, those auburn curls still a riot around his head, his father’s hand clapped firm over his left shoulder. 

“Somethin’ wrong, sugar?” Diane asks him, and Jared startles from his reverie. He shakes his head, quickly takes a sip, “Mm, no. This is good, thank you, Diane.” He tries very hard not to think about his strange, alien presence in the warmth of this woman’s home, with her powder blue terrycloth robe and her commissioned family mugs. They sit in silence for a moment, listening to the birds chirping outside the kitchen window. 

“Jared, honey, can I ask you somethin’?”

“Of course,” Jared says, caught off guard. His fingers play with the collar of his plain white t-shirt. 

“Richard has always been...sensitive. He acts standoffish, but he - he takes things hard, you know? I thought he might grow out of it. He was such a sweet little boy...used to pick dandelions for me on the way home from school, almost every day. Can you believe that?” 

Jared looks at the unabashed grin on 9-year-old Richard’s face, standing in a field and squinting into the sun, laughing with his family. He can believe it. “Yes,” he says, but Diane doesn’t seem to really hear him as she continues.

“But you know, high school and hormones, and my lord did that boy get moody!” She laughs a little, but it sounds sad. “I just...ever since he went off to college, I feel him slippin’ further and further away from me. Does he - well, what does he say about us, exactly? Does he ever talk about us?”

Jared’s expression must reveal more than he intended, because she nods before he can speak. “Ah. That’s what I thought.”

“But it’s not,” Jared hurries to reassure her, “I don’t think it is what you think. Richard doesn’t talk about his past really, or anything altogether personal.” Except this weekend, his mind whispers and he tries not to flush. He’s full of stories this weekend. And those long nights in the garage, in the bathtub, in bathrooms of VC offices; all those fears, all those anxieties. It feels so terribly personal, but listen to what his own mother is telling you and give up all those fantasies that it could be anything else - it’s just business, Donald. He rushes on, “You have to understand, Diane, the tremendous pressure he’s under. There’s not really time or, or room for - “ but he falters, unsure how to proceed when he doesn’t really believe what he’s saying. 

“Oh I know, he’s busy, always so busy. Off being a big shot CEO, I get it. I just wish...” she shakes her head, looks down into her coffee mug. 

“I know you must miss him terribly,” Jared says, grimly picturing the ragged hole in his chest that would remain if Richard ever left him behind. 

“Sometimes I wonder if...does he hate me, Jared? Is that why he won’t come home?” 

“Oh gosh in heaven, no!” Heedless of houseguest decorum, he places one of his hands over her smaller one on the table and squeezes in an attempt to comfort her. Her only crime is loving Richard too much, an infraction he is all too familiar with. He can’t help but offer her a balm to soothe, even if it’s not his place. “He misses you, and he loves you. I think...I think Richard is someone who tends to live inside himself a great deal, and doesn’t always pay attention to the effect he can have on other people.” Jared can feel his ears pinking, but he soldiers on. “He’s like a shark, always moving forward, never pausing to rest because he has to attack the next problem and the next. And while that means he can stay focused on creating wonderful things, it also means he doesn’t always notice the little remoras swimming around him, taking care of him so that he can keep on swimming and avoid deadly parasitic infections.”

Diane looks at Jared, her face drawn and tight, an expression so like her son’s face when he’s working out a problem. Her eyes search his, and for a moment, Jared has the terrible urge to shrink before her, a child under scrutiny. “And is there someone,” her voice falters, “takin’ care of him?”

He’s caught, his heart thrumming like a rabbit’s in a snare, but he’s helpless against those wild blue eyes, and he nods. 

“And is he happy?” She has turned her hand so that her fingers are now clutching at Jared’s, feverish. A woman holding onto a lifeline. 

Jared wants to say yes, wants to say it’s terrifying and exhausting and every day is an uphill climb but we are building something magical together and he wants to say I am doing everything I can to make him happy because he said no to Gavin’s money and I didn’t know people could do that. What he actually says is, “I - I want him to be.”

She searches his face, her expression unreadable, then releases Jared’s hand immediately as Caitlyn pads down the hallway in an oversized OKC Thunder t-shirt and plaid sleep pants, yawning loudly. “Hey, mama, did you make coffee?”

[snowflake-of-destruction]

Lost in Translation

I can’t write a quick, few line caption to save my life Part 3/8. Based off of the third picture of THIS POST and the idea that Sora just yells in dolphin when getting frustrated at his human’s slow learning curve. Read more for length again. Italics are mermish. This is dumb but so are these boys.

 @shaky-mayhemm

Part 4/? of Mermaid AU that needs a name

"Hello," Sora enunciated slowly and clearly.

"Sea Urchin," the sailor chittered back uncertainly. 

Sora shook his head and repeated, "Hello." 

"Hello," the sailor mimicked. 

Sora resisted the urge to slap his fin against the surface of the water in triumph. There was a delicate balance at play. His human had proved more skittish than the red one, even though the handsome silver sailor had technically sought him out first, if falling out of his boat could be counted. Sora would have thought pulling him back to surface and clearing his lungs of water--after a brief confusion where he'd tried to coax the human to swallow more sea to make him feel better enough to wake up--would have proven his intentions were good. He'd even brought the human a fish to eat and get his strength up, though he supposed the sailor must have been too worn out by almost drowning to be hungry because he'd batted the still flopping fish away from his mouth quite forcefully when Sora had tried to feed him. Maybe he just didn't like  to eat when he first woke up. 

 Even with these good first impressions though, the sailor had made a loud screech when he'd first noticed Sora's tail and had dug his hands into the ground and propelled himself backward as far away as he could with the limited room he was allowed on the tiny rock island jutting out of the water Sora had brought him to. He'd scrubbed his eyes with his hands and spouted a series of incomprehensible but almost angry sounding mouth noises, making Sora wish he hadn't kept quite so far a distance when he'd followed Roxas to see where he kept disappearing to (Sora had known for awhile Xion was just making up stories to cover for his twin. The day she ran out of plausible excuses like trying to fill the trench so the ocean floor was even or cleaning the shells of geriatric turtles as community service, and flat out claimed Roxas had been eaten by a whale had cinched it. Granted, Kairi had said Roxas was sneaking to the surface weeks ago, but Kairi hadn't been around when Roxas and Sora had last tried to move sand to the trenches to fill them so she didn't know how convincing that excuse sounded). If he'd been better a better spy when he'd observed Roxas meeting with the red maned sailor then maybe he'd have an idea of what mouth sounds would soothe this human. 

He'd done well enough without human words so far though, even if pantomime  was tough. There had been a major setback when Sora had swum quick circles around the rock to ask if the human felt well enough to swim with him back to proper land or try to find his boat now that the storm had passed, and the sailor had seemed to interpret this as "I am a shark about to eat you," but they'd gotten back on track and Sora had coaxed the sailor to at least trust him enough to keep to the edge of the rock instead of the middle. He almost ruined it when the silver-haired human had first felt confident enough to dip his feet in the water--to prove to himself Sora wouldn't pull him right in--and Sora had immediately swum up between his legs, but this, like the other setbacks, was eventually remedied and they were now back in that position, human sitting on the edge of the rock and Sora bracketed between his legs, arms resting above the sailor's knees, face tilted up as he tried to teach him to talk properly. If he stayed as still and calm as he could, he was sure he could avoid startling the sailor again. He'd already been tested when a hand had reached out and combed softly through his hair. He hadn't been able to help a contented sigh when he'd been petted--grateful that the human was realizing he was friendly and was being friendly back, that was the only reason--but it hadn't scared the human. just made him go pink for a moment.

"Sora," Sora pointed at his chest, then tilted his head to the side like a question.

"Sora?" the human reached out again and tentatively brushed his fingers against the smattering of scales on Sora's shoulder, like he wasn't sure if they were shells or attached to the merman since most of the rest of his upper body didn't show signs of being part fish.

Sora nodded vigorously. "Sora," he kept a hand pressed against his chest for a moment and then patted the front of the human's weird baggy detached skin over his heart. 

"Riku," the sailor supplied.

" Reee-coo? Riku! Riku, Riku Riku." Sora tested out the name, smiling at the bubbling feeling the sounds caused in his chest. 

"Sora." Riku was smiling too. Fingers gently combed through Sora's hair once more.

Sora leaned his head against the side of Riku's knee, humming the name one last time, "Riku," and debating what should come next. Something useful. Something that would help him get Riku back to where he belonged or signal him to wait while Sora went and found Roxas to help. He looked up at Riku's face to see if the human had any ideas. The sun on the surface of the water, making it sparkle and dance like it didn't below and bringing out warmth in the blue-green had nothing on Riku's eyes. "Pretty."

"Pretty," Riku agreed, while continuing to pet through Sora's hair, and the merman turned his face to the side, burying it against Riku's leg in embarrassment. The human couldn't know what he was saying.

"You weren't supposed to repeat that one. I'm not...you know. I'm just me. Even Kairi was disappointed. She didn't say it but I know she had to be. She came all the way from the Radiant Seas to see this prince she's supposed to marry...and ohh let me tell you that's awkward...or not really that awkward because I'm not sure she wants to get married either....not right away at least...What was I saying? Kairi makes me feel small because she's a pearl and I'm just like grit stuck in a clam...which also becomes a pearl I guess, but that's not the point because she also somehow makes me feel strong? Like I can do anything? Like save you. I think my whole life was leading up to saving you from drowning. Is that stupid to say since we just met?" Sora paused to gulp in air, even if the dryness of it made his throat burn a bit, and risked a glance to see how Riku was taking his rambling. He'd felt the absence of the hand in his hair and now he saw it was because Riku was covering his ears. "Sorry, you're right. That was coming on way too strong, and you probably don't care about the Kairi stuff, though I bet you would care about Kairi if you met her. You can't help it. Kairi's amazing."

Riku pushed a single finger against Sora's lips, leaning in close enough as he did that Sora was slightly concerned he'd topple into the water. "Shh" Sora went slightly cross-eyed looking at the digit and had to resist the nonsensical urge to lick it. "You need to go slow, Sora."

"I don't know what you're saying," Sora confessed.

"Pretty?" Riku tried to reorient the conversation.

"Forget that," Sora ordered.

"Pretty?" Riku tried again, thinking his pronunciation was off.

Sora yelled a noise of wordless frustration and Riku imitated him. 

"You need to stop fixating on that word. Let's pick another word. Sky. Boat. Octopus! Algae!"

"Pretty?" Riku tugged on his weird second skin as he asked the question. "Pretty?" He pulled a lock of his hair. "Pretty?" He gently bopped Sora's nose. 

"Yes, you're really pretty. You're the prettiest thing I've ever seen. No! Not me. I already told you that I'm not pretty! Technically you're not pretty either. I should have said handsome but....you are so pretty, but you really need to focus."

"Too loud," Riku frowned for emphasis. "Too fast. Slow down."

"I don't know what you're saying!" Sora found himself speaking more loudly as he repeated his earlier words.

"I wish I knew what you were saying," Riku sighed.

"I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU ARE SAYING!" Sora made large hand gestures, waving by his mouth, to help the conversation.

"Too loud," Riku just spoke more insistently and mimed covering his ears.

"THOSE ARE EARS. EARS!" Once Sora started yelling, it was hard to stop.

"Too loud."

"EARS! WHAT YOU ARE SAYING SOUNDS NOTHING LIKE EARS!"

"Too loud!"

"EEEEEEEEEAR!" He'd been pretty loud, but maybe Riku was still losing the nuance.

"How do I get you to stop screeching? That's too high a pitch for me, Sora." 

"YES, I'M SORA! GOOD JOB RIKU. NOW SAY EAR!"

"Pretty Sora?"

"NOT THIS AGAIN. NO, SORA NOT PRETTY. RIKU PRETTY. PRETTY RIKU. SAY EAR FOR ME, PRETTY RIKU!"

"Too loud!" Riku was bending down again so their foreheads almost touched.

"TOO LOUD? DO YOU WANT ME TO COPY YOU? TOO LOUD! WHAT IS THAT?" Sora switched between English and mermish.

Riku sighed heavily and leaned back. "Sora, please stop screaming at me. I can hear you perfectly fine. How can I make you understand?"

"IT'S OKAY. I STILL LIKE YOU, RIKU, EVEN IF YOU CAN'T SAY EAR," Sora encouraged.

There was a long moment of silence as both boys tried to think of the best way to be understood. Sora wracked his brain for any human words he'd overheard Roxas say. 

"Kiss?"

That was the wrong word. The human's chest was as still as it had been when Sora needed to press the water out of it. Come to think of it, his color was retreating too, leaving him the same sickly pale as when he'd been waterlogged.

"DO YOU NEED MORE AIR AGAIN?" Sora tried to push himself out of the water, intent on blowing air into Riku's mouth like he had while he'd been unconscious.

Riku scrambled backward to the center of the rock.

Great. Another setback. They'd figure out this communication thing sooner or later.